- for my friends
Sally B.
and
Elisa Maria A.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
two poem titles ‘accidentally’ merge,
like twins whose bodies
inexplicably attach,
two differing themes, somewhat contradictory,
bend~merge~blend, and who am I to disagree, because
both were birthed
inside of me and no
muses-dare-to-be-bothered
to ask my permission
~
settle into my spot,
drinking the first mug
of you know what,
for no clarity in my possess
to the exact direction
these compromising contradictory notions
will take us
and
if you desire to accompany me
as we descend to ascend
to the end of this elegiac, rueful,
conception
~
my first incline
was to design
a poem of the absurdity of life’s
daily contra~sensibilities
the absurdity
that we provide protectective services to our “poli”ticians”*
who cannot find the will to overcome their
shame,
for never finding the money
to protect
OUR
children in their sanctuaries of learning;
**** them and their lying thought and prayers!
~
I tremble to control my rage,
for this bleeds into so many of these obvious indelicate
suppositions that the poem might awry,
but one more please,
~
is it wise, productive, to pay the
sports players, the rock’n roll stars
the millions they want /believe they came to earn,
recalling afternoons in the 60’s at Yankee Stadium
when the family units of my youth
could happily in unity
ensconce themselves in bleacher seats at the ball park
and even buy us each by a parental custodian
ALL
of us a seat+&,
a $1.00 hot dog with all the fixings,
for less than the magnanimous sum
of maybe twenty (!) dollars
~
here, I cease and think about elegance,
the tail side of this newly minted coin of
poetry
~
how we worship our bodies exterior,
unappreciative of inner workings so beauteous
and no one’s innards is not acclaimed,
prettier than the next?
the thot sneaks in,
that what ever the M.C.* you worship
made a terrible mistake
by not designing us inside out,
me imaging me admiring the contours of your
liver,
maybe, but whose to say the curves of your
these hearted words from
within, are
“better”
than mine?
~
there is much elegance in this world,
that goes unseen,
granting the anonymity of being taken
for granted,
which why the poets idolizes the fantasies inherent in
nat-ure,
(yes I know they nat-ed it after me)
this gift to us all,
where all unanimous agree
on the universality
of its
incomparably beautiful elegance
beyond anyone’s human ability
~
some of us flip a switch,
turn a faucet,
never wondering how these amazing feats of glory,
water+powet
just ‘happen’
to transpire,
everyday of our lives,
but not for all…
the elegance of the minds
that imagine and then create
the most elegant solutions
is it not contradictory
that the apportioned profits therof
be not at least in part be available to all/
for the greater good,
like our poetry is?
~here I cease~
pleasantly pleased
that one interior heart,
killed two titles,
So now i can get
my second cup
of you know what
and that is
wonderfully,
elegantly
non-contradictory
fini. nml
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 8:30 AM UTC
- for my friends
Sally B.
and
Elisa Maria A.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
two poem titles ‘accidentally’ merge,
like twins whose bodies
inexplicably attach,
two differing themes, somewhat contradictory,
bend~merge~blend, and who am I to disagree, because
both were birthed
inside of me and no
muses-dare-to-be-bothered
to ask my permission
~
settle into my spot,
drinking the first mug
of you know what,
for no clarity in my possess
to the exact direction
these compromising contradictory notions
will take us
and
if you desire to accompany me
as we descend to ascend
to the end of this elegiac, rueful,
conception
~
my first incline
was to design
a poem of the absurdity of life’s
daily contra~sensibilities
the absurdity
that we provide protectective services to our “poli”ticians”*
who cannot find the will to overcome their
shame,
for never finding the money
to protect
OUR
children in their sanctuaries of learning;
**** them and their lying thought and prayers!
~
I tremble to control my rage,
for this bleeds into so many of these obvious indelicate
suppositions that the poem might awry,
but one more please,
~
is it wise, productive, to pay the
sports players, the rock’n roll stars
the millions they want /believe they came to earn,
recalling afternoons in the 60’s at Yankee Stadium
when the family units of my youth
could happily in unity
ensconce themselves in bleacher seats at the ball park
and even buy us each by a parental custodian
ALL
of us a seat+&,
a $1.00 hot dog with all the fixings,
for less than the magnanimous sum
of maybe twenty (!) dollars
~
here, I cease and think about elegance,
the tail side of this newly minted coin of
poetry
~
how we worship our bodies exterior,
unappreciative of inner workings so beauteous
and no one’s innards is not acclaimed,
prettier than the next?
the thot sneaks in,
that what ever the M.C.* you worship
made a terrible mistake
by not designing us inside out,
me imaging me admiring the contours of your
liver,
maybe, but whose to say the curves of your
these hearted words from
within, are
“better”
than mine?
~
there is much elegance in this world,
that goes unseen,
granting the anonymity of being taken
for granted,
which why the poets idolizes the fantasies inherent in
nat-ure,
(yes I know they nat-ed it after me)
this gift to us all,
where all unanimous agree
on the universality
of its
incomparably beautiful elegance
beyond anyone’s human ability
~
some of us flip a switch,
turn a faucet,
never wondering how these amazing feats of glory,
water+powet
just ‘happen’
to transpire,
everyday of our lives,
but not for all…
the elegance of the minds
that imagine and then create
the most elegant solutions
is it not contradictory
that the apportioned profits therof
be not at least in part be available to all/
for the greater good,
like our poetry is?
~here I cease~
pleasantly pleased
that one interior heart,
killed two titles,
So now i can get
my second cup
of you know what
and that is
wonderfully,
elegantly
non-contradictory
fini. nml
*M.C. master creator/
4/27-26
<>
if you read my poetry,
be very advised, you run the risk of
add~diction
to my insanity
~
* Politics: “Poli” a Latin word meaning "many" and "tics" meaning "bloodsucking creatures".” -- Robin Williams
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