#divinely
_I am not my words,
Nor am I the letters from which they are formed;
I am a beating drum,
A cacophony,
A riot keeping pace with mortal time;
Spinning order thriftily,
So as not to cheapen the divinely proclaimed language of the soul._
Mar 9, 2021
Mar 9, 2021 at 7:45 PM UTC
(composed about eight years ago
moments ago this poem underwent
slight poetic surgical face lift
modifications by this bro)
this spine tingling reaction,
sans flushed testosterone
from heads to toe
sketched out sometime
from ~july or august 2012 or so
and (just now) triggered chain reaction for roe
man tick undulations i.e. wishful desires slow
lee shifting (in seconds flat)
from neutral to overdrive
exceeding speedometer limit maximum
nearly attaining speed of light quo
shunt seeing an aesthetically pleasing chic chick
in the summer of full feminine bloom
envisioning plunging hot rod
into her lubricated derrick
(and yes, young enough
to beget me via ****** fling
a splendid supreme offspring
of this gap toothed fifty three year old simian),
who doth wanna swing
like a boyish chap
at prime love making time zing,
with thee, whose primary purpose comprised
tutoring my daughter whose deficiency
with language skills warrant
communication exercisesd
born with cognitive developmental delays
in sundry dis guised,
whose academic weakness qualified her since birth -
or soon thereafter meta morph a sized
to receive intervention to allow, enable
and provide her with life skills
even though patience thoroughly utilized
so she can become self reliant as an adult
thus bringing this papa aegis
of said progeny prances carefree like a colt
and via exposure therapy
comfort zones, convince this dadaist dolt
magic touch, sans young women,
(who seem prominent in social service field)
bear witness as thy Punim doth molt
blindsiding actions of tender loving care
these myopic eyes
with hypnotic trance observe flair
ring results conjuring up illusions of grandeur
spurring commendable utterance
of touche...here here
but self consciousness kept gleeful outburst
under lock and key lest detriment comb near
compromising instructional progress,
that could easily dis ap pear
into a sinkhole forsaking requisite basic skills
reinforcement ever since first year
youngest progeny Shana Aubrey Harris did need
recipient (thine offspring)
received private lessons to help her lead
a supposed "normal" life,
thus this biological papa did heed
and amenable, lovable, valuable rudiments
of classroom ABC's a challenging deed
for thee lass aye helped beget, yet
a quiet riotous soiree
along information super highway got set
within my imagination
achingly longing to compose a poem
for this righteous dignified dame whose net
whose, incalculable interpersonal worth
voiced melodically ineluctably seduced, sans mirth
and athletic physique
goaded this married father
to attempt some organization awakened image (to be,
or not to be dwelling) within remote hamlet
with rustic cabin crackling hearth
dormant libido (bereft within marriage)
toward some unknown outcome,
yet how grand to parlay pregnant girth
without intent to convey any further details
cuz message of unequivocal charm
minus additional intent for physical interaction
brought joie de vivre deliverance on this Earth.
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
Whatever has been Divinely said and done is never in vain
because it has a higher purpose which results in our gain.
____________________________
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 8:01 PM UTC