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this got written x years ago
behoves this update version of a bozo
christened sans parents
   playing eeny meeny miny moe,

yet upon tiring of game with a no
   nonsense attitude
   eventually decided on Not Nada Poe
Whit - Walt har vee gong to call So and So?

Now, you probably wonder and ask
yarself y am.i. On a wishy washy
web site - far tis to bask
in offline and/or online friendship

as like quaffing from a flask
with no deliberate intent
   to antagonize nor mask
n e hidden agenda -
   quite a challenging task.

Thus, i turn the question back 2 u,
per what spurred posting/responding too
and might there be interest
with me - n average hue

man male - hoping
   4 an acquaintance brand new
from - this barred bard -
   scot **** matthew.

Dis ***** older buck haint gonna take a byte need to take fright
i merrily scout cyber seas donning
me virtual webbed whirled wide wet suit to brook

a female friendship countless
   adult oriented web site
such as ashleymadison, badoo, craigslist, elitemate,
plenty of fish tagged twoo,

or other venue left of the political right
and if absolutely positively unquestioningly
without subatomic particle of interest
than please just respond albeit and try to be polite...

good morning, noon, or night
to be guarded when an acquaintanceship
   begins out of sight

whereby data bit bump and grind
   thru the information super
   highway somewhat tight
and bring x rated epistles to life that i write.

Ma arch i bald dingbats of fingas clip by
at greased lightening speed
justa friendship this poor fella doth need
an accommodating gal to offer a lead
mien eyes did not purposely heed

nor any greed
from one suppurating marriage
this guy wants to be freed
with no malice this cheap tricking
   super tramping wordsmith
of inxs ac of dc charged cheap tricks
sans done ***** deed.

This impersonator qua sometime bard of yore
admits to his apology
if ye get taken totally abominable
like bar rammy aback

to proposition ye with carnal desires in store
and ideally match deeds ease with these words
towards such strong desire to adore
forsooth that naked realm

to allow the noggin to bore
together in close syncopation like couplet core
and would now gently encourage
his newfound muse

to let me dip me quill in
   iambic pentameter du jour
a wordsmith who shies away
drinking *** or smoking *****.

Now with a zing
i step into the digital xing
via summit da fall low wing
written jest to byte tongue in cheek
yet unsure if zee phone here will ring

or an unexpected gold plated invitation
after the yodeling ding
in an effort to hear that pleasant
yet discordant musical ka -- ching
for cherished pennies,
   nickels, dimes, nickle back
et cetera from heaven to bring.

Twiddling me fir and twenty black bird
shaped like a green thumb
as me schmart simian Semitic ****
gets comfortably numb

after quaffing
   humongous amount of ***
while downing oral rob hurts
   sesame street pudding

made of pureed plum
unlike jack in the corner
   my luck mooch oh more glum
and despite ****** stubble here
and there a stale crumb
this har dabbler in words haint no ***
only a hard knock er skool alum.

from thee one and only almighty
alfred e. neuman king crusty crab crumb son Rodg
er alias scott matthews - whose words
   intended as playful persiflage

if curious to learn more about me
   emanating from cranial lodge
   unless no auto mat tick interest arises -
   whence this reply u can dodge.
Randy Johnson Mar 2018
She was 79 years old when she passed away.
She was my aunt and her name was Ina Mae.
When a relative passes away, it's always sad.
Ina Mae was the only blood aunt that I had.

She was special and she was Mom's only sister.
Many people loved her and many will miss her.
She was a wonderful lady and a loving mother.
She had a bond with her five kids who loved her.

She was a human being who can never be replaced.
She and mom are in Heaven which is a better place.
When she died in 2017, it was bleak.
Ina Mae was both special and unique.
Dedicated to Ina Mae Dooley (1937-2017) who died on February 24, 2017.
RebelGirl Feb 2018
the little face i see when i look down at my nephew
it is like he is my own
at least some days i wish
i could keep him
it seems only yesterday i was in the hospital a new aunt
holding him in my arms craddeling him
falling in love with him more and more every minute
that i still held him
he is now three
and it seems like time has flown scince the day he was born
he is my guardian angel
and i love him more than anything in the world
my nephew the one who taught me how to love at least one person in my life
lins Feb 2018
little baby girl or boy
you already bring me so much joy
I can't wait for you to get here
I'm waiting patiently my dear
I'm anxious to see your smile
yet I still have to wait a while
I'm excited to see who you'll be
I hope you're a little like me
my sweet niece or nephew
what will you grow up to do?
I pray that you will be strong
and know that sometimes you will be wrong
understand I'll always be here for you
you can talk to me whenever you want to
I'll give you unconditional love
like the kind you receive from above
right now, you're just a little baby
from now on, I'll love you daily
your mom and dad
are bound to make you mad
just know I'll be here
a phone call away when I'm not near
you can call me Aunt Boo
if that's what you want to do
call me that and I'll do the same
I promise to give you a silly nickname
"oh, the places you'll go"
I'll see you soon mi sobrino
my future niece or nephew, I will see you in July
Star BG Jan 2018
Living behind
the gates of no sight
my FATHER is.
Perhaps snapping away
with a spiritual camera- like eye.
as he knows I love and miss him.

Living behind
the gates of no sight
my AUNT is.
Perhaps sitting around a manifested table
laughing and enjoying the moment.

Living behind
the gates of no sight
my MOTHER is.
Perhaps feeling the ocean of love I send her
as I recall her mothering aspects.

Living behind
the gates of no sight
giving love and direction for me
who needs its guidance.
Inspired by IIion Grey a grand writer. Thank you
You hurt each other all the time
You fight, ignore, plague each other in rhyme

The first one is the oldest
She is burdened to succeed
She's withers away as life takes it's toll
Once a limelit life filled with opus
Now swallows her with greed
The pole stains more than just her soul

The second one is the baby
She cries out for attention
Everything will never be enough
Success in life she found the key
Her struggles she'd not mention
Weak inside but her exterior, tough

You cause each other pain and jade
For both your sakes I hope this will fade
For my mother and aunt
Tyler Grace Jan 2018
you can't forget your family

no matter how hard you try

mirrors remind you you have your mothers face

hard times remind you like your father you never cry

keep it bottled up, don’t worry about the past

seeing relatives remind you “you’ve grown to fast”

my bloodline is a burden that i wouldn’t trade

even if this burden is all that weighed
b Jan 2018
My Aunt Hazel smokes so much
She watched the curtains burn red.

She looks and sounds like Patty and Selma.
A pitbulls bark for a swoon
That rises like the tide
At any who dare
To swing words like swords.

No smooth edges on Aunt Hazel
A dash of whisky might
Bring out the tiger within the lion.
A lion with oddly questionable views on hot-button topics,
spoken with irrational confidence.

A beautifully real caricature of an east coast mother.
So deeply entwined in the comfort of small town fallacy
And big time conspiracy theory.
Although, those two might go hand in hand.


She makes gowns for a living.
Her skin withered like an old catchers mitt.
Strong is the storm that knocks on the glass
But every crack in the wall always ends up filled by her hands.

The silent whales of watching your oldest boy
Thank you for everything
While he rips the tendons off his belly
That connected two forces from ever being apart
And wondering how she could bear it again
And again.  

I envy the ease of such loving hate.
To wield venom
And dedicate your life
To helping love.

My Aunt Hazel smokes so much
You'd think she didn't know what love was.
And that if it were real
It must be at the end of a cigarette.

My Aunt Hazel smokes so much
She watched the curtains burn red
And smoked the pack through.
merry 2018

this might be my favorite
Cat Lynn Oct 2017
There she was... In the arms of my sister-in-law
Peaceful and quiet, oblivious to my flaws.
A daughter, a new born, a stranger to this world
Bright, lovely, and beautiful, even when she wiggled and curled.
I froze, I didn't dare to take a step closer to my niece
For her father was my brother, he trusted me the least
I feared him, I thought of him as a king, and I as his slave
My eyes surrender themselves to the ground, my hands folding to behave.
My ears awakened by the small bursting cry of hunger
My eyelids raised to get a quick glimpse of the little light, but every moment got harder.
I tried to ignore the small frail infant, but it's match of fire kept on trying to set flame to my charcoal heart
My brother's hawk eyes dashed to me, tightly swaddling his piece of art.
My shadow colored claws dug into my waist as my pupils refused to obey
My soul was peeling as he got up and insisted that I sat down, he knows I've been lead astray.
I shook my head, the prideful side of me afraid to hold the young one who knew no knowledge
Like a wipe, his finger in a flicker pointed to the seat again. I had a choice, to listen or jump off the edge.
My conscious gave up and was force to yield.
I saw my hands shaking, my wounds now unhealed
I sat in the gray leather chair, my sense devoured in one swallow
I raise my head, my fedora blocking the ceiling lights, my mind forced to follow
The instructions of him "Put your arms out." was his command
I did.... but like the speed of a bullet, my arms shot back, crying was in demand.
I feared him, I feared her, I feared them all. For I was a disgrace, a mockery of the them all.
For I knew I was so unworthy to receive such an opportunity after such a fall.
I shook my head, I could feel every bone trapped under my skin crack and snap with every breath I harshly inhaled.
Did I dare waste a moment like this? Do I wish to refuse this chance to hold something so pure. My selfishness had to bale.
I release my numb and limb arms out into the strange open air
I still had no desire to hold her, but what other opportunity would I have to be fair.
When She was gently set into my arms, I felt a bullet of instant regret, but then things calmed down as her reached out and touched me...
My tears ran down her light, soft, pink finger as she made a faint joyful sound of rest. My soul still didn't believe...
My eyes blinked motionlessly, starring into her darling little face.
I trembled, scared that I would be a failure once again to the young innocent trace.
But her little smile... It had... removed the tar from my beating ticker...
I embraced her closely, crying into her petal like chest that was covered in a blanket, my tears got thicker...
Within seconds, I whispered into her sensitive fragile ear
My wishes.... my dreams.... my pleas.... and my fears...

"Please...please love me... I might have been a failure to them... but please... don't make me a failure of you... help them to trust me again... help them to love me again... I am so sorry... please... I know I'm selfish... so prideful... but please... embrace me... forgive me... I swear.... I am trying...I..i"

I Love You Lily... Thanks for Everything...
*For through you... The Lord has unblinded me from my bright reality...
For my dear niece who sparked a flame in me...
Amelia Crake Oct 2017
How doth thee compare to a Summer's Day?

You are like an Old fairy-tale, dusty and cold,
you creep and mistreat your way through murky forests,
tormenting innocent woodland creatures until you get your way.

Hidden away, I am a small house made of once hollowed out bricks,
now filled with lead. A steady fire burns within.
Finding a needle in the haystack
isn't so hard
if you turn the hay into ashes.
I am the scorching Sun,
my glare refracting into your eyes, a spotlight
meant to keep you at bay.

Your attitude is despicable.
Hungry for happiness yet unwilling to make your own,
you steal my brilliant rays.
I am the Sun,
sitting ominously in the corner of our garden,
turrets looming over-head,
casting shadows while I cover my toes in cool mud
and peach hued rose petals,
and I am watching
poison bugs buzzing by your drink,
landing with a sudden silent zip.
I say nothing.

As they sink to the bottom
I am so intrigued
that I almost do not notice the click of your teeth,
a subtle warning of what's to come.

Hyper-focused on every task,
I can only take one path at a time.
You are constantly upset,
I am always in motion,
you can not turn me down.
I am the Sun,
a giant ball of radiating energy.

Scatterbrained, I am an enigmatic magpie,
alone, an omen if you believe.
Picking silver needles off the warm mossy ground,
slipping silver threads from your once auburn hair,
I am filling my home with things that can not burn.

I am the Sun,
too bright, I am bleaching your skin.
It is like watching a photograph
fading in slow motion.

I am waiting for your deep eyes to darken,
something from under your skin, beginning to surface,
assuring torrential rains and gale force hail.
You are faltering,
a passing storm, a bubbling brook.
Nothing compared to the bursting giant star that I Am.
After 7 drafts of this poem, I am certain of only one thing; I will absolutely come back to it some day and rewrite it into ashes.
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