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ogdiddynash Jun 2020
I am nearing seventy,
my woman, has me, surpassed.
that hallmark of difference,
is a race I can’t catch her up,
so always on the lookout for ways,
ways to equalize the difference.

laying in bed on a beautiful
Tuesday, (renamed Twosday)
romantic muse-marveling how
an ordinary weekday came to be
so spectacular, the senses are
keening, preening, as the warm
loving feelings upping with sun,
rising, and my eyes welling tears,
of youthful gratefulness and love

so
I propose we get matching tattoos
to lock in this storied moment historical.

She smiles.
Stealthy moves as if to bed exit,
when with a sudden twist of fate,
reverses with one of the three pillows,
her in-bed-reading-backup-accompanists,
no pretense, she tries to beat me to near-death.

Later.
She inquires.
“What tattoo exactly did I have in mind?”

Till Death Do Us Part
(inside a heart, optional).

She snorts.
“That can be arranged, if you get more deranged!”

from now on my passing thoughts of loving celebration,
gonna just keep on passing by, except for maybe, just,
tattoos of chocolates, a money saving device, so many
occasions useful, now you understand this poem’s entitlement.


Ogdiddynash
always a kernel of imaginative chocolate storytelling
with a center within of a truthful happening
ogdiddynash Jun 2020
you write of dismembered leaves,
pains too sweet,
using incontrovertible idiocies like
quiet rain, droplets shining like sunlight,
edible goodbye cheerios,
tastes that burn eyelids colored in
blood stained mustard yellow,
the gladness of sadness,
reversible rivers flowing heavenwards,

really?

dechambered hearts, ventricular mysteries,
brains wearing wooly sport jacket helmets
and others, more weirder too,
wonderfully inexplicable,
other jimmy olsonian beauties,
non-lexical non-commonsensical
ecumenical hysterical
chemical verbal reactionaries,
and then you wonder why,

PEOPLE ******* HATE POETRY?
ogdiddynash Jun 2020
ahem!

phasers on full,
having violated
someone’s human rights,
prepared to be eliminated.

on trial for a continuance
to keep on breathing,
gave a summation speech:

an untitled poem
is a diamond with
a single imperfection,
casting shadow doubt
on the flawlessness of
a huge finger rock


it’s an angel without a halo,
it’s a cat without any claws,
it’s a ice cream sundae sans cherry,
it’s a rudderless ship, no captain,
it’s rock ‘n roll without **** Jagger,
country with no Bonnie or Jolene,
female songwriters with no Adele


it’s a woman you’ve met on a train,
falling in love, instantly, whimsically,
she says I love you too! but there’s
no profit in it, no chance of success,
leaves without leaving her name


it’s a poem without a directive, a legendary,
imperfect perfection without a signpost pointer,
it’s the only loving worth having, that when lost,
unforgiving, the thousandth cut, so when she asks,
“forgive me?” your silence chokes, you cannot reply


incapable of completion,
you’re un-entitled,
you’re untitled,
a blank,
whited-out,
nameless as well


forevermore
^ feel free to substitute man, it makes zerodifference.
ogdiddynash Jun 2020
A Wouldn’t Object Limerick

for a few reasons to objectify,
peddle her a pedestal to request
a little eyeliner, some mascara,
actual clothes of non-athletic wear lineage,
cease and desist with daily loon of lulu-ness;
dare not suggest some lipstick or heaven forbid,
a piece of jewelry sparkle, lest I be trussed
and tested, returned to the closet to join
my fella sweatpants of graying demeanor,
of colorless pallor
and
smelly familiarity
ogdiddynash Oct 2019
~as promised~

bejeweled words

no reason you should know,
that one of my peculiarities
is buying jewelry for women

premise: it is one thing man can do
than improves upon nature’s rough cuts

the refractions remind me of those within
the human heart where light of love resides

so I am neither insane,
nor a complaint in a criminal conspiracy,
of which I am criminal, the accused,
the victimized, both of us co-conspirators,
defrauding no one

this weakness is a silliness,
that came about as an accident,
a story not worth telling for its truth yet accurate,
that fool man looks at  his works and over jewels purchased,
prefers his poems,
and those that loved them more


so, in conclusion, be unafraid, be available,
be affected, happily infected, give the jewels you can afford,
to the deserving
give them away, away...away on 10/23/19
ogdiddynash Sep 2019
“Your honey plenty crispy”

nothing in the fridge to eat,
I, Grumpy Mcgrupy, intone
to those responsible for its
fulfillment and my well being

the greek yogurts all have passed
their expiration date, silent assassins,
the cheese bin international emptied
of American and Swiss citizens,
the remainder wrapped in white in
languages not spoken

the produce drawer, naked in its drawers,
except for a sweet Vidalia onion from Georgia,
which is just no good for fresh direct eating,
besides, my tears, copious already
at my state of famination ruination

final recommendation textual arrives,
a solitary fresh honey crisp appe in the fruit bin,
which in desperation I inhaled while
writing poetry in the bathtub

text my pleasure at this last resort,
with a shopping list to which the response comes
in a tone of high moral ground, teasingly defensive,


Your honey plenty crispy!

rendered speechless but her words
added too,
to the shopping list...
True story
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