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since becoming housed here since this year
july first two thousand and seventeen,
   tubby more precise where
with thee missus, amidst bucolic environs,
   (one could don underwear

Schwenksville, Pennsylvania  
   trees abundant with leaves of grass spare
zip cone: one nine four seven three,
   this resident doth not find queer

disproportionate amount of time,
   he spends never to overhear
the mostly soundproof walls
   inside apartment b44 assigned midyear,

one bedroom living social space
   gives ample opportunity to assess linear
ratcheting asper elderly folks inch along
   chronological space/time continuum
   fragile as jasperware  

many experience diminution
   of vital sensory organs, and oft time cannot hear
even without television blasting away,
   no doubt harboring anticipatory anxiey sans,

   grim reaper's unannounced visit they fear
their non verbal body language
   (when aye espy and stride-rite past,
   an old lady or man riding shot gun

   securely strapped in wheel chair,
   shuffling back where buffalo used to roam,
   or trudging to common
   all purpose gathering place)

   speaks volumes analogous to a frightened deer
when caught blindsided
   within bright lights of an automobile 'ere
unsure which way to go, and dashing out in the thick
   of evening rush hour traffic,

   lacking notion, the figurative coast not clear
subsequently doe ting bucks killed, where birds of prey
   thence loftily circle gracefully  
   gliding within upper atmospheric air

upon scrutinizing what doth appear
as a hollowed out existence induces me to de clear
to maximize utilizing each precious moment 'ere
before each major metaphorical cog and gear
frankly zaps, this dude looks like a lady,

   cuz ah ma longish bedraggled
   hydrogen peroxide tinted hair
me haint give a rats ***
   what rumor mongers relish, and behind me back jeer

Since old people lack for purposefulness tis unlike to leer
that one day (fast as snap of fingers),
   lack of being ambulatory t'will be near
and upon limitation in physical functionality,
   aye aim to app pear
motivated to partake of mental exercises
   just sitting on me rear.
this own lee bro' thar of yars
   dashed analogously graced
on par how a marathon runner raced
to Macbook Pro laptop computer post haste

soon as he goat back
   to his domicile nestled and encased
in the bucolic, democratic,
   and fantastic spit non defaced

woodland partially hydrogenated oils baste
surrounding Highland Manor Apartment our ace
in the hole, whence he i.e. mice elf
   (Matty Mouse) with threads of gratitude laced

within a feeble attempt
   to burble, cobble, fiddle, easy as gravy,
   an insrutable letter placed
in the output queue

   soon as all
   the typo O graphical errors erased
and, though struggle to convey love
   for such an endearing older sister,

   which digitally squawking,
   aye did not cut and paste
boot doth admit to allowing,
   a saucy bit of small potatoes sayest

   in ma trademark (truemark)
   stuffing of fluffernutter (that taste)
G---R---R---E---E---A---A---T
   (courtesy of flaky Tony the corny tiger),
   which gimmerish aims to waste

juiced spare moments,
   and tubby direct, earnest and frank
lemme communicate without resorting
   to caginess,

   but free roaming thoughts to thank
ye and Rich for welcoming a small group
   of family and friends
   to your Woodbury, New Jersey abode,
  
   somewhat near Redbank
to relish the salad days of times gone by,
   when as kids,
   we tricked each other with a harmless prank

such as hiding a fuzzy wuzzy Willie,
   or scaring the other
   with the molded Creepy People that doth rank
as laughably innocent, these topsy turvy times,

   when faith no more
   eroded cameraderie
   among fellow Americans to tank
especially as the world wide web

   iz going to fill in the BLANK
thus moments to share
   a tasty repast did help me to crank
out this artichoked gibberish,
   which when placed
   atop pyramid of cranberries sank.
  
as didst this heart of darkness
   within soul asylum
   of papa and momma genes
to two beautiful young women
   re: daughters, whose absence

   felt as gloomy fiends
similar to the Ogre encountered,
   when goose that laid golden egg stolen
   by Jack of beanstalk
   of story book fame as a cash cow means.
alternate title – A bona er fide dog day afternoon delight.

A mere half dozen vowels
constitute the English language
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay
Consonants comprise the majority
(sans remaining twenty) Ta Deum,
whereby both in tandem allow, enable
and provide avast combination donning brooks at bay
ample lettered permutations

offer opportunities, where methinks
mother tongue avails allows, enables
and provides thyself
tubby spell as sigh arrange passions linkedin to create, evoke
and generate plenti of romantic expressions to convey
an amorous, bedazzling conception

describing ******, graphic, and iconic ****** propensities
this cobbler, dabbler, and fiddler
(no, not on the roof) doth display
his penchant, lament and bent infatuation
with these twenty-six symbols
that **** hen ewe to evolve,
and breed vernacular words to reflect from an eBay
definitions apropos to the present, which
Uber state farm quixotic oeuvre,

and matchless kindling ******* serves as foreplay
for this heterosexual ma reed male caressing,
finessing, and integrating
expressions of speech oft times spurs
(what might seem as noun sense),
I ponder the peccadilloes of being gay
yet quickly reroute ****** predilections
albeit rolling in the hay,

whence this dis straw t fellow
conjures affinity, comity and excitability
latent within the consanguinity
of bossy verbs assaying boisterously
an interjection tubby top dog capstone amidst kennel
of barking canines couching with another similar subject
each with their body electric

nestled upon a davenport faux pas inlay
in conjunction with another
four legged friend, the direct object
particularly eyed iz a ***** in heat, who **** okay
to buffer end an un pro noun
sub bull underdog species, who feels passé
with ****** faw paw play

though averse to insult shaggy scoobie doo,
whose bark a role overture willingly
doth goad her to doggy paddle
while she woofs down remnants of  
picnic tourists left littered
while Lady and the ***** head toward the quay
Pier ring for private sloop to **** per ****,
then ******* hoo ray
afore slyly cagily approaching bag of tricks
see ****** exploits today.
Matthew Harlovic Oct 2017
if you cannot read it,
you should not eat it.

© Matthew Harlovic
Aspartame, Acesulfame K, Saccharin, Sucralose
Àŧùl Sep 2017
You ask me a query,
You ask, "Where Are You, Honey?"

I have an answer for you,
I say, "I'm inside your heart, honey."

You let it extend, your doubt,
You implore, "But why is it so hazy?"

I fire a ******* in response,
I say, "It's hazy because you're lazy!"

You smile but get perplexed by now,
You ask, "Will you stay if moving on I fail to?"

I am mature and couth,
I say, "I find no reason good enough to not to."

You wonder to yourself,
You ask, "Where from I got you?"

I remind you that I came back,
I say, "I consider it my responsibility to imbue your life with the brightness,
The light lacking in your life,
And to provide you with warmth,
So that you are free from your shivers,
And so that you can be my wife,
I want to fill that void in your day,
Maybe I was sent back only for you,
On your mother's recommendation,
And so wise was her receptivity,
I know that I am a man of my words,
Surely I will make it large for us,
And you are such a hardworking lady,
Our children will have it healthy,
And they will surely have it wealthy,
The wealth won't just be material,
But they will be taught fine civility."


You now ask me your final query,
You ask, "Who will be their tutor?"

I smile and simply end this discussion,
I say, "Obviously, me and you."

Even you are satisfied by now,
You smile & say, "I love you, honey."

I hear what I have been longing to,
I say with a broad smile, "I love you too, honey."
∆∆∆∆∆∆∆
My HP Poem #1664
©Atul Kaushal
G Valentine Aug 2017
There's a feeling in my mind I can not seem to reach, a feeling filled with joy, however ringing with defeat. Sometimes it comes in waves, sometimes just a few, but the one thing I know it's comes when I'm surround by you. Growing up in a box that appears to be locked, but appearances fool you, so you'll end up being mocked. In fact, the box was wide open all along, the whole time, it's the same thing with this feeling I can't seem to find. Is it gratitude, hopelessness, happiness, or fear? What even is this feeling, is it really even here? I've sat and wondered what life would be like in a different world, another place. Because physically I've escaped you but mentally I'm still battling all the demons you've made me face. One thing I know now is that this feeling is alive, alive inside my heart, in my head, in my mind. I've endured this long enough so it's time that I confess, what you've done to my mind, it's an unruly mess.
grace Apr 2017
I've written the word "you" countless times
to represent countless people
on countless pages
as I've aged I've become unable to place
exactly which "you"
belonged to who
because
Y
O
U
was easier to write down
than the names of the subjects
I knew I shouldn't be proud of

they all blur together
the faces
the letters
the shame I ignored
the love that I forced
the chapters in my life
I was too ashamed to identify
but one thing is clear
through all the past-poetry-opaqueness:

I know I'll never struggle to place
the word for the sound of rain
the laugh that sounds like a hearth
the effortless extemporization
the sound of your beating heart

June.

even the four letters of your own name
could never do justice
to the beauty of your being
that no word can capture
no dialect, no vernacular
you are more complex
than language
than pen on paper
and that is why I love writing about you
June,
I know I'll never get it right
but *******
do I want to try.
Dedicated to June, the love of my life, the only person who I've ever been proud to be loved by. I would learn every language if that meant I could properly describe you.
Dhaara T Jan 2017
You've been away, a while
I didn't miss you
You promised to stay
But I didn't kiss you

You held my hand
and my neck too
Hello again, you return every while
Why do you?

After all the lows
You've put me through
You still think you'll win
You have no clue!

I listen to my heart
But to my mind too
I listen to my soul
To ME, not to you
"You're just a voice in my head. You don't control me."...I wish (and hope) everyone fighting depression sees this, understands that there is always a way out. You have the power, even if you don't see it yet, but I hope you do, and soon! <3
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