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Lawrence Hall Jun 2018
Socks to Relieve Pain Coflex® Interlaminar
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Stabilization Menard’s Dedicated
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
To Service & Quality Leg Cramps at Night
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Brian Tracy International Bank
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Of America Merrill Edge Tyson
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Keep it Real Keep it Tyson Is This Sequence
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Correct? Luminosity Zenni Slide
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Belts American Red Cross Let Palmolive
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Handle the Mess Hole Leather Sandals Ad
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
By Revcontent Newchic AOL Computer
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Checkup Try it Free Fisher Investment
“We’ll Try not to Show that Ad Again”
Socks to Relieve Pain Coflex® Interlaminar
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Stabilization Menard’s Dedicated
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
To Service & Quality Leg Cramps at Night
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Brian Tracy International Bank
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Of America Merrill Edge Tyson
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Keep it Real Keep it Tyson Is This Sequence
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Correct? Luminosity Zenni Slide
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Belts American Red Cross Let Palmolive
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Handle the Mess Hole Leather Sandals Ad
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
By Revcontent Newchic AOL Computer
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Checkup Try it Free Fisher Investment
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Socks to Relieve Pain Coflex® Interlaminar
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Stabilization Menard’s Dedicated
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
To Service & Quality Leg Cramps at Night
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Brian Tracy International Bank
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Of America Merrill Edge Tyson
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Keep it Real Keep it Tyson Is This Sequence
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Correct? Luminosity Zenni Slide
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Belts American Red Cross Let Palmolive
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Handle the Mess Hole Leather Sandals Ad
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
By Revcontent Newchic AOL Computer
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Checkup Try it Free Fisher Investment


“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
“We’ll Try Not to Show That Ad Again”
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2015
if pre 2000s pop was a twin town of chedder, then post 2000s pop has to be twinned with sodium hydroxide, or palmolive / dove; this pope is high on crack, reshuffle and scrub down the kareoke, please! soap opera just turned into sing-alongs, it became cheese opera due to the repeat for a century to come... now it’s all about cheese opera and soap... the sort of cheese that might give a mitchell a half-mined-mile into coal mountain... and the soap ready for the twitter democracy of the required comment that’s about a cried-on pancake eaten with cranberry chutney but not the turkey.*

even if i write the most spectacular verse
it goes with the geese into the couldron
of a second life / un-becoming...
the latter is very much true with regards to feeling,
you’re in a race to claim a zeno record
against the turtle... but but still the flea beats you,
going against kantian symbolism, concerning 0,
it could also be the decimal point, rather than negation,
like the way i was given the x-men collection
at £10, seven movies...
i started with multiplying 7 by 10... to get 700...
then i added the 7 of each film,
added the “symbol of denial,”
moving the rubric for seven movies, sigma £10...
that’s like £1.70 for each movie...
the remainder is abstract as to relate the arithmetic.
well i was in the best club ever on a friday...
the street.
i bought myself a three quid leffe beer bottle
nearing the litre and with a champagne cork...
opened it...
walked by the police swinging a jive of gulp
and un-repentant... you want me to repent
my alcoholism serialising alcoholism as the problem?
you’re the problem:
i never box drunk...
you know how many marriages have failed because
of over-cooked pasta or under-cooked potatoes?
too many.
ready-meals like school-meals in england prime
for the selling of pre-prepared digits of chips
also ready to spend more time in the glue / spiderweb
of the television, which forgot its place
as a pleasant distraction of
the news for the small-town folk or national
pride via sporting events.
but you know what really ****** me off...
it’s called illiteracy for a reason...
but it’s also called religion concerning the literacy from one  book...
like the koran... or the bible...
strange that that isn’t illiteracy all by itself...
but it isn’t... literacy is then measured by the secularisation
mechanism of homework...
children don’t lie... their social status does not expect it...
it’s more like: i don’t like you... snail goo in a shell missing snail...
i like you... butterflies at the lunch break...
so in this dream i’m sitting in my bedroom
with this little boy... two fiendish creatures enter...
the boy says: this is allah...
he’s fat and burned...
(i hate the freudian self-projection of dream interpretation)...
the other is “schizophrenic,” i.e. two faces inter-mingling...
then the second dream... the fat monster is there, on a throne,
and a bunch of muslims...
suddenly they run away...
i’m left with the crisp fat ugly one...
and i forge the twinned dream interpretation...
ah crap... that placebo schizophrenia experiment
lasting for 7 years worked...
i made medicine in-effective in england...
now i’ll just encounter idiots who think they know me better
than i know myself...
who will deny in order to amuse themselves...
who will not craft a doubtful mechanism to encourage
courting / polite thinking... the so called: end-of-all-implausible-possibilities,
reduced to all the pessimisms known as plausible realities
of english society.
by the way... after seeing the boy’s knowledge of that
deep-friend bulge of the double chin...
i walked from home to dartford bridge... and then to barking...
and then took the bus home...
if i didn’t run from that first impression...
i wouldn’t have been the re-interpretated “schizoid” twin...
missing in the second dream by the throne
with the muslims running for leather spanked...
couple dreams for a medium of thought entering the
unconscious...
i hate self projection... it goes against
that limit of the most sophisticated pigeon service
known as freudian mail...
imagine a more sophisticated system without
pigeon, postcard, poststamp, e-mail... can you, given dreams?
betterdays Aug 2014
there are some things,
that just smell so good:
corn freshly shucked, potatoes roasted in campfire coals, carrots fresh from the ground, then washed   and stovetop roasted
basted with butter
and lavender honey.

the nape of my toddlers neck,
that clean fresh hopeful little boy smell.
coffee, straight up, freshly brewed
caramel warming,

passionfruit, strawberries, citrus any type, zested. freshly planed fennel curls, mint crushed for a mojito, roast lamb and rosemary gravy.

the smell of planed wood in the palms of my man's hands as i kiss them. frangipani, coconut tanning oil,
earth newly rained upon. popcorn popping, chocolate melting,
jasmine, orange blossoms,
a grove of pine trees.
warm gingerbread and mulled wine.

salt tang on the morning breeze.
the smell that lingers after the lovin.
garlic and ginger in a hot wok.
salt tang on the evening breeze.
prawns all sea salty and
a crisp cold beer.

sandlewood and citrus aftershave lotion on your smoothed cheek.

nectarines, apricots,
a yellow juicy peach,
freshly bitten.

apple scented shampoo daphne & lilac my nana's smell,
bay *** newspaper print and palmolive soap,
my pop's study.

rose petals crushed.
earl grey tea,
toast just before burning damper and cocky's joy
crisp fresh linen warm from the sun.

so many scents, so many smells...
these are my favourites please feel free to add your's, as long as it's clean
and above board.
damper=camp fire bread similar to soda bread
cocky's joy=goldensyrup.
Appearance of the New Courier
(with namesake "Georgia Ives")
flew into the courtroom
faster than Bold face WingDings!

After the judge opened
the waxed sealed envelope stamped
with the official legal imprimatur
sound of silence filled the courtroom.

After perusing highlighted principle details,
a noticeable con jug gay shun
didst Impact countenance of attired judge.

Recess announced at authority decree
(spelled out with quotation marks high
lighting dotted i's and crossed t's)
figuratively a nouns sing moratorium
for those accused of run on sentences,
split infinitives, then versus than...
incorrect usage of ellipses, et cetera.

The justice of supreme court
critically espied quotation marks
(underscoring reductio ad absurdum
Times New Roman regulation)
against stiff penalty asper those
who commit rhetorical perturbations!    

This lenient fiat occurred immediate
by innocent omission of a colon,
which subsequently, naturally,
and immediately affected
every future jury presiding over
a defendant applying incorrect punctuation!

A favorite comma cull anecdote
often repeated by my late english
grammar (a palliative to me psyche
despite the multi-generational
difference in age) happened
when she celebrated twenty  
and counting punctual marks, whence time
in utero came to an end period.

Many question marks still abound
as per the specific circumstances
of this generally uneventful birth,
only that she seemed to dash
from the womb (of her mother –

mine great grandmother christened
Latina Greco) with a pointed
exclamation declaration
of independence while ****** constitution
adorned with supposedly shimmering
invisible golden braces
and a full set of teeth.

Somewhat averse to authoritarianism
and mores of assuming the sir name
of the groom, she maintained nom
de plume affixed on her birth certificate.

If born that way today, and ready
to pledge marital vow, would
probably follow the common custom
and hyphenate name of beau similar
to newlyweds of this day and at this very moment.

Back in those days though,
town’s folk exclaimed with
pointed superstition that a baby born
after being bracketed nine months

within the womb (which seemed
like an eternal sentence), and equipped
with the means to chew would
most likely experience little colon difficulty.

As a dignified divine dowager,
she willingly shared her cradle
to graveside tidbits (populated
with many wisecracks and
marked quotations from a life
that spanned more than a century21.

Smart as a whip or pin
(the latter term somewhat out of vogue),
this independent woman
(who married into nobility

from humble roots) frequently evinced
el shaped lips when the un
suspecting recipient ensnared
of her harmless ingenious pranks.

Aside from what many considered
childlike antics (which characteristic
salient trait appealed to this grandson),
she excelled at verbal adroitness

and could spin a jesting lightly
mocking pun, which seemed
to quiver with an invisible
apostrophe shaped blackened barb.

Though privileged per parochial parents,
her inherited empire and peers, the people
of the proletariat class felt
figuratively parenthetically
included as persons of concern
to this genteel dame.

She exemplified and wore that moniker
noblesse oblige with utmost
august excellence, and whenever
the need or wont arose to address
the madding crowd (this
crowned empress) resorted
to non-verbal communication ala semaphore.

Her lily-white hands (most often
remained sheathed in Palmolive
clad ding silken gloves - exuded
a faint patrician touch) partitioned

the air with arabesques accentuated
with sign language for those
among the teeming masses
unable to hear or in fact deaf.

Regular adherence to being grammatically
(yet not necessarily politically) correct
witnessed the air being sliced with even
less familiar punctuation symbols
such as the emdash, en-dash.

Even doctorates of English and
strict task masters (whose
frowning scowls strongly resembled
semicolons when even minor indiscretions,
infractions, transgressions, et cetera
with english language observed)

never found fault with this
former bohemian, whose rhapsodic,
melodic, linguistic voice ameliorated
dark memories from dereliction dis
played by former queen.

She also received the treatment of
a champion lyricist, whereby every lyre
(got set on fire) from utterance akin
to a choir of hells angels, yet this

chanteuse voice rang thru the
azure vault causing the small hairs
of the spine to experience a pleasant
electric shock therapy.
betterdays Jan 2018
when I was small
to small to see over
the tabletop, my aunt
taught  me to make God's Food
she gave me lessons
in baking, in alchemy

I stood on stool,
so I could mix the
ginger powder,
flour and eggs in
the big old green
mixing bowl
with a big wooden
spoon, half as tall as me

I wore an apron and had
one of my poppa's hanky's
tied over my hair...

My Auntie Barb,
poured over my dry mix
hot melted butter,golden syrup
and brown sugar, with careful
hands and then briskly mixed
it through, a glorious batter
was made.

together my hands
covered by hers,
soft comfort and calluses
would pour the batter into
old rectangle loaf tins,
paper and greased,
then into an oven
to bake and spread
the scent of  ginger, cinnamon
and caramel, throughout the old
weatherboard house....

I would happily lick the spoon
and scrape every last bit of gooey batter
from the old palmolive green mixing bowl
as we waited for the baking alchemy to occur

Roughly forty minutes later,
the oven door would be opened
and loaf of gingered goodness
would appear, the kettle would be
placed on the hob to boil, tea in the ***
cups, plates and cutlery on the table
sugar,milk and butter too

Then her voice, would call
gingerbread is up, and all
would come, interrupting
footaball, a good book,
an afternoon nap,
or the tv program
nothing stopped one
coming for gingerbread

The loaf would be sliced
still warm and thick
almost overwhelming
all that warm ginger
so very exotic, then
it would be lathered
with butter, that would melt
almost on contact.....
and that was a such a feast

There was magic in that kitchen
even though I make ginger bread
the same way, something is missing
perhaps the warmth of the old oven
or some little pinch of salt or nutmeg
or perhaps the ginger has changed

Or it might be just nostalgia....
for simpler times..when my biggest
responsibility was mixing ginger bread batter
Once more into the pews I snore
the vicar reads what he's prepared and doth sermonise on those who dared to sleep while he was spouting verbs.
If God has seen me, he'll know how keen I am to come to church and listen to a boring man,
I'd just as soon eat all my toes and this I'm sure God also knows,
but
into every life the sun must shine,it's Sunday so I should not whine but stay awake and take my medicine like a man.
Another plan and one more prayer,another layer to oxidise,to find the truth between the lies,here's hoping that my eyes stay open.
So,dear
God,please bless the Pope,palmolive soap,Rogers rangers,total strangers and all who sail at sea and if you have some blessings left send some of them to me.
"Nilus nil " a écrit Hérodote
Sans le Nil l'Egypte n 'est rien.
Mais même si je ne suis pas pharaon
Porté par un éléphant de guerre
Escorté de chattes et d'ichneumons
Feulant tels des sphinx dans la fange
Je bois aux eaux noires d'Isis
Je bois aux sept bras de son delta
Je bois son ***** chaude
Je bois son or baptismal
Je me tatoue de ses crues tumultueuses
Je suis ivre de ses dix-huit coudées et dix-huit doigts
Je ne suis rien sans ses eaux noires, ses méandres
Qui grossissent au solstice d'été
Et alors pendant cent jours
Je m'abreuve de ses eaux tortueuses
Et je m'épanche de toutes ses embouchures
Je bois aux sept pis du ventre de la vache
Longs de plusieurs milliers d'orgyes égyptiennes.
Je tète jusqu'à plus soif
Je tète sa bouche pélusienne
Je tète sa bouche tanitique
Je tète sa bouche mandésienne
Je tète sa bouche phanitique
Je tète sa bouche sébennytique
Je tète sa bouche bolbitine
Je tète sa bouche canopique
Je suis Thoutmôsis réincarné
Et je sculpte mes savons d'humus.
Onctueux comme crème
Sensuels comme parfum
Je taille dans la boue le buste de Néfertiti
Je sculpte la fille de Typhaïa la Jouisseuse
La chienne en rut du harem
Je sculpte la catin du Nil
La fille lascive du Aulète,
La fille nue des Lagides
Je sculpte Isis et ses ailes déployées,
Je sculpte Aphrodite Anadycmène
Je sculpte Cléopatre la Septième
Je sculpte, je taille, je moule, je peins
Et ce faisant je frotte le dos de Palmolive
De ma muse qui m'abreuve
En fredonnant un cantique antique
De l'eau de son bain de mousse nilotique.
gone girl  Oct 2015
a note
gone girl Oct 2015
A note I will hopefully send in 2 years.

I've found myself and my very own happiness, but fortunately this "family" will never be a part of it. You always did say we put the 'fun' in dysfunctional but I never understood how disappearing once a year on the very day that you released the biggest mistake of your [life could be a functional relationship.
You say that I fill the very hole in your heart but [why are you digging one in mine.
You say that we are just like any other family, but other families hug each other, weird I know. You say that everybody deals with their pain in different ways, but I don't remember any of my friends telling me that their parents would take their paroxysm and give it to them as birthday presents.
I still quiver with fear when I hear the word love because I link it with pain.
"I hurt you because I love you"
"It is only because I love you"
"Love" is not an reassurance to hurt someone.
I have found out that breaking a cup is not an actual reason to hit a kid.
I have found out that telling someone that your parents words are sharper than shards of glass is not a reason to have liquid soap [poured down your throat.
I have found out that calling emergency services is okay when you do not feel cleansed after drinking PalmOlive, they might have mistaken it for cough syrup demanding to purge me of this sickness but needing to be rushed to the hospital, but it's okay because you love me right?
when they asked what had happened and you said I did it to myself and I was astonished but it's okay because you were doing it for me, -right?
I have found that when you leave tragedy from those shards of glass on your legs that your parents will disregard it and mistake it for comedy but I am not a playwright.
You forgot to notify me that the bedtime stories you use to tell me were fantasies of me {dying.
I have learned it is not normal to send your child to a madhouse when you simply do not want them to go on vacation with you.
I have learned that a trip to the sanitarium is the only vacation I'll get  and if you inform your child that they have shattered their family against the very ground that holds them, it will almost always engulf them in their very own straight jacket.
I have finally learned that love does not mean tight knuckles and I have learned that happiness is not painful.
Courtesy food pantries
Saint Eleanor's Saint Mary's,
Our Daily Bread,
the missus and yours truly (her spouse)
well stocked with good n plenti of
soap, shampoo and detergent.

Spongebob squarepants
would be in seventh heaven,
where sudsy clouds (resembling
Mister Krabs, Plankton,
Sandy Cheeks, Squidward, et cetera),
would drift across celestial vault.

Gratitude bequeathed to prophets of virtue
benevolent good samaritans
who trend righteous true
to the calling of helping hands who renew
faith (mine) in goodness of humanity
assisting not only yours truly
and the missus, but people
from South American country named Peru
or even indigenous tribes
accorded recognition comprising
population of inhabitants occupying New
Zealand, offered reparations

under the Treaty of Waitangi,
a process of reparation allowed
Maori to be fully recognized
at political level in lieu
of unfair practices inflicted upon
original occupant loosely similar
to descendents of long lost tribes of Israel,
endowed with (pure tin) pride
wishing I too could call myself proud Jew,
nevertheless attraction manifests destiny
(mine) someday to learn Hebrew.

Courtesy atheism more so Unitarianism,
I need not adopt
an explicit dogmatic, fanatic, humanistic...,
lunatic, narcissistic, puritanic... paradigm,
but only tout poetic justice (mine)
to recognize laudable traits
linkedin to orthodox faiths,
albeit rationalistic rubric
that caters to selflessness

for no other reason
than allowing, enabling, and promoting
random acts of kindness
without any forthcoming great expectation
downplaying remuneration,
no matter destitution begot mein kampf
hard times living within bleak house
slight hyperbolic exaggeration
poor as a cheesy church mouse poet.

Lemme coast to a fitting conclusion
bringing reasonable rhyming blather
originating courtesy me noggin,
within which wool doth gather
thus I a halt and
dial down philosophical lather,
cuz most likely
ye dear reader would rather
experience palmolive oil slather
preparatory to full body massage.
My poetic side COSMOFUNNEL
wordsmith thanks tumblr in his noggin
ofttimes triggering babbling brook
to swell after deluge
becoming stream of consciousness runnel
carving, gouging, and liquidating topography
qua zee mow toe natural formed tunnel.

Digitally remastered and revised
since original version rejected, thus
writer released,  purposely leaked,
and flooded mass media
courtesy the following
self branded watershed vaunted unabridged
sprawling questionable and deplorable
creation loosed upon unassuming readers.

Analogously linkedin with
once upon a time
one doodling dandy Yankee slender man,
whose yang upended, overshadowed,
and eclipsed mine yin,
nevertheless, now yours truly self anointed
as an elder statesman - ha
gifted with unwanted
inxs of abdominal adipose tissue
(attributed to agent provocateur of aging,

which affects my metabolism
and/or courtesy
unwanted side effect reaction
from one or more
of the eight medications
nurse practitioner
at Penn Psychiatric Center
Phoenixville, Pennsylvania location
Elizabeth Clark prescribes),
which gained weight foments tussle

a fight to the death, I can never win
and alternately titled: arm ugh gut tin
yours truly loathes to mensch shin
one alien looking pear shaped
humanoid with redskin
liposuction advised courtesy Doctor Quinn
(a fictional character and magician,
I took poetic license
created above to help eradicate body dysmorphia),
she waved her wand and ****
transformed me into a puffin.

Aye dread getting undressed
and/or getting washed
even without spectacles
thar haint no mo' six pack ab,
which nearly rock ribbed
mid equatorial zone shape shifted
into corpuscular blubbery
ancillary physiognomy
where aye wanna bab
bull posttraumatic stressed out

middle age battle of the bulge
in summer re: a waisted effort
squarely (er rather roundly) testing
the elasticity of extra large sweatpants,
when straining to hide expanding girth
definitely producing undesirable effect,
(especially when floating in briny deep,
I squarely, honestly and closely resemble
the Chinese brother
who swallowed the sea  

strongly urging, necessitating,
and exhorting mister crab
to clamp down with pincers,
viz primitive liposuction,
whence rustling scupper
will efface this fleshed out
human bloviated ruggedly handsome
man of the webbed wide world
a bit heavy around the equator
over self indulgent fleshpot

unable, uneager, unready,
and unwilling to maneuver
his portly ill proportioned body
inducing unprovoked stares,
and tears for fears
eyes tracking billowing supersize shirt
resembling trireme sails being trimmed,
where fleshly freighted sloop
displaces entire watery expanse
stranding, stinging and starving an a ray

of underwater species,
now prolonging requisite inhalation;
I seek desperate sticktoitiveness
guidance courtesy Younan Nowzaradan
with steely mettle
hie trite to iron out flab
thus tis part and parcel of senescence,
yet auxiliary buttressed dermis
effect forming gorged girth
giving "love handles" grab

reigniting reign of terror
viz prepubescent anorexia nervosa,
boot strapped now - wen
remembrance of things past frankly
zapped distorted self-image
evoked holocaust images repugnant;
buttery rolls of fat insta jab
stubborn thoughts of self-loathing
entice me to become a lab
bore a tory guinea pig/
scapegoat role to restore

prime of life build when five foot ten
obviously me no Lemuel Gulliver
alignment could now perchance nab
first place in a slick couture magazine
from the neck down,
cuz face mottled with
nine inch nails clawing skin
wrought unsightly scab
taut torso bearing
fashion model and
senior citizen idol, where
every place I go receiving
venue offers free tab.

To stand stock still until shutterfly
would SnapChat
rippled tummy, could
fill my hungry wallet with inxs of cash
now, aye haint so gorge ***,
WhatsApp with
faux pregnant protuberance,
though thankfully
derriere still rather dash
shing, which palmolive pilot sized buttocks

doth newt offset sorry to report
lost battle of the bulge,
where diet tribes furloughed in a flash
abandoning their respective stations,
gnome hatter sinusoidal
parabolic frontispiece finds me to gnash
my toothless mouth for lack of means
to stave of the depredations
of slump pin proletariat
allowing me a hash

sheesh priceline tag
with hefty weight, acquiescing
this Pillsbury doughboy blivet
to subject himself to the sharp
stings of a cool whip lash
bearing the snap against
raw skin as due process
and supplication for atlas shrug
gin his broad shoulders
at the fountainhead naming me mash
shew Scott in regard to oblate inflation
insulation fiberglass around midsection, and

how ma late mum
(an avid fan of doctor Carleton Fredericks,
who preceded Mehmet Oz), would quash
the love she showered on this sole heir -
resorting to exhaustive palliatives -
even ear rash
shun null gambits,
and as last ditch effort
putting this offspring
on par with an albatross -
vamoose get out with the trash
unless everything (pertaining to
indelible stubborn blubber
comes out at the whoosh she wash
Diet of worms.

— The End —