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Mateuš Conrad Oct 2017
concerning the pop. narrative -
   i'm a wordsmith after all -
someone gives me the raw materials
of islam and (a rainbow) of affixing -phobia
and i can't seem to hammer
the **** thing into shape...
   it's, foremostly: a pseudo-phobia.
a misnomer of the phobia compound.

for a people who have an "irrational" fear
of islam, it seems strange that the same
people gave birth to some form of rationality -
let's just call it islamophobia
  not an irrational fear - but rather:
                      and irritation -
the irritable fear of being suddenly forced
into the extremities of living the daily life -
when something unexpected happens -
mind you, the people who have been forced
into these situations: stop their want
for adrenaline in a base jump, from an aeroplane,
or bungee jump off a bridge.
   islamophobia is not a "phobia" as such,
it's not irrational - it's just irritating -
but then again you don't actually believe
a spider to be a irrational creature (arachnophobia),
  you don't believe an open space with lots of people
   (agoraphobia)
  to be an irrational circumstance -
you're facing yourself being irrational in
both circumstances -
    since the phobia hides an actual rationale -
islam?
        that's much harder - since you're
being "irrational" while someone is actually
being "rational" -
               when in fact there's no escaping
that contra of you being "rational"
   and the muslim being "irrational" -
not one side is either *rational
or irrational:
the spider and the open space filled
with people already stated:
                 you're being irrational;
the fear of spiders is irrational -
   but there is no rationality from the perspective
of the spider: what does a spider
know about rationality? jackshit!
        there is no such thing as islamophobia:
because you're not being irrational about
what has its own rationality -
     its own monologue and intra-dialogue...
whoever coined this stupid word
is as dumb as their rationality allows them
to make enough people use it;
it's only an irrational fear: if there is no
                 rationale behind it;
point being: there's rationale behind islam,
ergo there is no such thing as
islamophobia.
Thursday, January 2nd, 2020 &
Friday, January 3rd, 2020

The Resplendent Sol shineth forth for each one of us. We are all one, even whence divided. In truth, there is no schism betwixt us.

       I awoke this morning assured of the Cosmo-Plexus' Empyreal Love, The Ransom of the Lovebound, and Provenance of Life by the Holy Dove. I am sure that his auspices remain even now. Even in the din of disquietude, in the Soulborne War of Stillness, his aegis dost remain.

I am roused from my slumber by foreordinance. The maelstrom of lament only stirs the Leadings of Lovelight within. I must simply listen to the glistening waft to illumine my shadow'd microcosm.

From what Starlit Aethers shall my Niveous Dove alight? From thence shall heartsease unfurl! I know not when the Light of Life shall shine his visage upon me; yet and still, I must trust in the sweetness of hope. Her honesty inspires faith & amour.

Somewhere over the Rainbow, there exist no needs for unrequited dreams. Why? The fantast fathoms imagination an extension of reality, a synergy, a duality, a plurality. Yet, even the phantasy desires realization.

The Rainbow is an insignia of the Noachian Covenant. The prism is a kaleidoscopic thread, one woven across the firmaments by a Grand Creator. It is a dream realized, by the Divine, of the Divine, and from the Divine.

       How can I find stability, how can I summon strength without the Light of the Lovebound within? Our moor in a sea of sanctity, is he, Christ.

Sometimes I feel chasmic & abyssal, as though my heart were a rapacious sea. I know not from whence this emptiness has arisen, nor from whence it can be sundered. Yet and still, I carry on, sometimes consumed by the seductive embrace pulsing betwixt my ribs. Will the charm of despondency unfurl its pall over me forevermore?

At this moment, pristine synchronicity aligns my heart & mind, thereby affixing my entity upon cloud-nine. I am genuinely enough; I am genuinely substantive, for, at this moment, reason & rhyme intertwine upon the wavelength of the sublime. Therefore, I choose happiness not because it comes easily, but because it is the only real & authentic way to live.

----------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------------------------------The Life-Bearing Dictum:----------------------------

(Added for the
Promulgation of Inspiration
On
March 11th, 2020)

----------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------

(I) "Creativity is the residue of time wasted."

-Einstein

(II) "Darkness is the birth of a new dawn. It should be celebrated, not feared.

-Aladdin Zackaria

(III) "For look! I am creating new heavens
and a new earth;
And the former things will not be called to mind,
Nor will they come up into the heart"

-Isaiah 65:17 (New World Translation Study Edition)

(IV) "For you the sun will no longer be a light by day,
Nor will the shining of the moon give you light,
For Jehovah will become to you an eternal light,
And your God will be your beauty.
No more will your sun set,
Nor will your moon wane,
For Jehovah will become for you an eternal light,
And the days of your mourning will have ended."

-Isaiah 60: 19, 20 (New World Translation Study Edition)

---------------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------------------------
Words uttered
Reverberate on a sonority
Now distinctly tinged
By the sanguine ripples of
Malice & betrayal.

A soul bound
Has been unfettered;
Yet, pain lingers in the anomaly
Once inhabited  
By a paradoxical wholeness.

Perhaps suffering is life,
Maybe life is suffering,
But what is life,
Without art
(?)

The Magnum Opera of the World
Were forged in an
Empyrean blaze of spontaneity;
Penultimate Vision;
Mastery of emotions; Mind-over-matter.

(The Legacy Carries)
Ever onward; therefore,
Breathe,
The Light is near,
Oblivion of Shadow.




Excelsior Forevermore,



Ω



Sanders Maurice Foulke III
Jake Espinoza Oct 2012
Today I felt my skin turn to bark as I leaned against a tree. I felt a warmth spread through me as I reveled in joy of hidden things. I watched people pass me by, had a conversation with a few people perceptive enough to notice my fringes.
    They said hello. You are difficult to notice.
    I nodded silent thanks.
    Why don't you speak?
    This is how I thought. You're asking a man nearly imperceptible why he stands so still.
    At times the bark or grass fell from me replaced with concrete or off-white plaster or the likeness of another. I stood and watched as I smiled, talked, acted, convinced, spoke from the heart, and not a souls suspects.
    When I feel like hiding, this is what happens: I become everyone. I become no one. I am tasteless, odorless, bland. I become no one, but not the kind of no one that gets noticed. I see that the truly homogeneous hide twofold, sixfold, eightfold. I hide that I am hiding that I am hiding that –
    Continuum. I become a vacuum of character, perfectly unremarkable.
    This is whenever I feel like it.
    Whenever I want it, my outline becomes harsh, sharply black against white against black leading to my deadened surface made vibrant by desire, by necessity, by conscious appraisal of the path of least resistance. Feeling clashes with wanting, the cacophony is maddening where such fragile melodies had once been harmonic. All of a sudden it is clear that I am hiding. I can no longer conceal the bare bones sprouting from my shoulders, clumsily fashioned into bare outlines of wings. All of a sudden I am laid bare, and the unfinished construct is revealed. Everything looked wonderful, immaculate, meticulously attended, even upon close inspection, until the keystone shook loose. Can't find adhesive that lasts more than a few months these days. My fragile creation appearing bold and strong, emanating vitality such that it can be gleaned with proximity, fell.
    All I can see are my feet or darkness.
    I cannot produce sound more substantial than murmurs.
    I cannot clothe myself but with scraps of cloth that fall with the most gentle breath of wind, but still I toil.
    The spectacle as it has become is made piteous by the clarity with which I am seen. My futile attempts to recover myself incite anger and pity. They fade, and sadness remains. I am in plain sight, as if illuminated by some unseen light, and I am understood. It is understood that I will continue affixing the fragile scraps to me until they stay. It is seen that I am undaunted by such a seemingly insurmountable task. After eons of exposure to the eyes of all, a scrap grafts itself again to my bare flesh. My lips spread slowly into a wicked grin – for it is known. It is known that those witnessing this disgusting degree of satisfaction at my own partial concealment will soon forget the fissured and sickly creature they now behold. They will soon forget what stood in the place of the great statue now erected around me.
    Inside, I stand in fear of the day when again I must build myself anew.
    Like a bird constructing its fragile nest, I take everything I can use. My toil is patient...careful. I refine tirelessly. The light turns hard and flat, but still I am great and formidable in my fragile, meticulous, manufactured splendor.
    One who remembers sees this, and knows that this is my true love.
    One among them all remembers.
    He is the closest thing I have to a friend.
Robert C Howard Sep 2013
Beethoven once said of the cantor of Leipzig
“Not a stream but an ocean.”

Sebastian Bach wove sonic tapestries
and scoffed at notions of genius
“Anyone who pays the price can do it.”

Whether for Sunday’s choir or *****
or for a palace fete of state,
The fountains of his bounteous spring
embellished every age and station.

Yet he could crack a joke or two
in a cantata to coffee’s pleasures -
sipping from a sturdy cup
of nature's matchless brew.

Flutists, fiddlers, singers, organists,
children and masters alike,
have netted hearty sustenance
from the seas of his boundless vision.

But modesty forbade him boast
the importance of his station -
affixing to his noblest works,
a trio of humblest words,

“Soli Deo Gloria.”

December, 2007
Not so much a poem as a narrative tribute.  I'll work on this some more.
Cary Fosback Oct 2011
There is a hairs breadth between agony
And serenity. You must dance the fence
Like jumping wildly over a broad flame
And play the line between torment, torrent,
Or truth. There is no room for error here.
You must caress the demon in your mind
And sooth him, and feed him, and care for him
For this is the key to finding freedom

You must bottle your hurt and keep it safe
Affixing a sure gaze on the hour
Watching for changes, studying each bit
Of its black, grey, green, red pulsating form
So that if it breaks loose, you may find it
So that if it attacks, you may retreat
And retreat, you will, to your teary crypt
You must caress the demon in your mind

You must stitch it to your being, intentionally
Pushing the needle each time more deeply
And pull the wailing fabric through the mass.
Your body must convulse, leak; naturally
From time to time returning to this start
It is imperative that you are ready
In your heart as it beats double bass line
So that if it attacks, you may retreat

The line between paradise of your mind
May be found within each of your sorrows.
In what you remember or learn from them
And from the beauty of experience
Worthy, fully, of valuable heartache.
You must accept this, it is inevitable.
Assimilate your minds fictitious factions,
It is imperative that you are ready.

You must caress the demon in your mind
So that if it attacks, you may retreat
It is imperative that you are ready
For this is the key to finding freedom
There is a hairs breadth between agony
And serenity
You must dance the fence
Amber S Mar 2014
the city winds had ****** me up and spat me back out,
and i thought i was so hip and unknown, with swirling
leopard prints and black gloved hands. a boy by my side
that looked at me with thunderstorms.
the city buildings shadowed me and protected me from
the truth attempting to leave bruises on my
buckled knees.
a tourist in uncharted waters, a damsel
who continuously puts herself in
distress.

my hair was Medusa, his fingers were
Dionysus, and when they fused,
our Mount Olympus was created, tasting like
berries and scratching at snake bites
scabbing and itching to be
reopened.

his kisses tasted like nostalgia.

i’m an american girl who is super glue, affixing
herself on whatever will stay long
enough.
JM Romig Nov 2021
A moderately sized planet,
afloat in a distant spiral galaxy
orbiting an unremarkable star,
has taken the Tardigrazian nations by storm.
For thousands of their star cycles,
they have been capturing the imaginations
of countless people watching from their pods
both Planetside and Satellite alike,
brought together by the light
of the Blue Bead –

The little exoplanet and that defied all reason
and persisted at all cost,
despite itself,
possibly to spite itself.
Millions of lightyears away from our humble empire.

This tiny little dot
and the two-legged folk walking upon it
became something of a cultural phenomenon.
We have become the cheerleaders
for a people likely long passed.
We used to believe they might outlive their star
Go on to visit other planets -
meet their neighbors, like we did.

But recent transmissions from our probes
spell a tragic end on the horizon
for our distant friends,
whom we’ve seen climb down from trees,
invent tools, and writing, and cities, and more
but they never stopped at a reasonable spot.

No amount self-inflicted suffering
they brought in the name
of that momentum would stop them.
Progress, and the comfort that comes with it,
being not unlike an intoxicant for these people.
Addicts will always justify the means.

Their world has rapidly grown warmer
in the time we’ve been observing them.
Soon it will be outside the narrow window
in which they can reasonably survive.

We watched, screaming at our screens,
"The fuel - it’s the fuel causing the rise!!"
They’d gone this long, burning the dead
and expected no consequence.
It's not their fault they’re so short-sighted
It's how they evolved.
A mere hundred years or so,
that’s the lifetime of these feeble creatures
Hardly enough to gain wisdom,
let alone pass it down.

Nevertheless, they lived, they loved,
and they thrived.
Surpassing even the most generous
of our expectations.
Against all odds, they learned, and they grew.
Eventually, we did see the brightest of them
realize their jeopardy and speak the truth.
Just in time, they would unite as they did
so many times before
…or so we thought.

Instead, they fought more.
Even on the edge of extinction,
they dig their trenches,
and they pick their sides.
The great imaginations
that helped them build the world
now affixing them in rigid fictions
of their own making
Unable to see beyond
these preconceived limitations.

It feels, now more than ever,
as though we’re seeing the
final seasons of the Blue Bead.
The fall of a beloved people.
Who will never know
the billions of lives they’ve touched
in the brief time we’ve gotten
to share with them.

But then, they have surprised us
countless times before.
Perhaps they will again.
agdp Feb 2010
Escaped, is that truly the objective adjective
A feeling perhaps everyone has projected
Or are we seeking within filling to feel secure
Are we affixing words for our selfish cures

Let us take our thought and dissect its pieces
Fit the jigsaws, does it compliment with ease
Photographs stuck on milk cartons like cement
The directive is the fleeting human element

Living in ones past, shadowed assurance from last
Foibles of human inquiry questioning with haste
Lapsing the collective logic of the inner sage
Soul bombarded, thwarted, strengthening with age

Examine not observe nor merely think your being
Vignettes to films are you truly sure your seeing
2/3/07 ©AGDP
while out and about
an unexpected over bare ring bout
to defecate arose,
     where sphincter asserted clout
and would excrete
     despite without doubt...

if closing distance
     (to reach rental abode)
beaten out by loosening sphincter muscle
     transmitting excretory code

set sights on prowl for outlawed, secluded,
     and wooded make shift commode
and essentially for naught negating
     toddler toilet training, sans

     getting ***** trained undone
     via my ***** ready to explode
and blast immense solid waste byproduct
     (oh...close to the size of Rhode Island)

thus a marathon race against time
found immediate readiness to pull off roadside  
     to access make shift water closet
     generating image firmly in pooping mode

     grabbing hold of a tree trunk
     (a mini rocky horror picture show, -
     this analogy included for no particular reason
     other than as a non-sequitur)

     and also to convey, how I tried
     to allay distractions
     while painful contractions flowed
(perhaps approximating a woman

     on verge of giving birth)
but...no matter, aye could envision,
     an ever increasing heavy mf* load
hence approaching Highland Manor Apartments

     this chap abandoned
     prior simultaneous evacuation plan
     starkly aware probability for secluded spot sunk
(nonetheless, thy darting darting

     anguish, futile lizard like lookout,
     a geico Gekko whose cheeks did blush
     even for a measly Georgian bush
quickened nsync with ****** spasms

     visual scouting industrialized
     where backhoes didst crush
once a time sacred happy hunting grounds
     of native Americans, now flush

with newly built vinyl city re: urban sprawl a gush,
where cookie cutter houses long since bringing hush
     puppies muzzled, yet never the less and mush
a doo doo about nothing) except sprint

     ting to a void push  
immortalizing indigenous tribes ghosts rush
peopling infrastructure affixing
     urbanization with their warrior whoosh!
Melissa Nye Jul 2013
I'm addicted to wasting my time and searching for new beginnings
New beginnings that don't exist because I can't finish what I started
But inside I know that I am looking for something perpetually new

I'm stringing to the idea of our thoughts affixing
I hope that your lips are as honest as your mind and as pure as your heart
I'm thinking of how to resolve this war between my vanities and your altruism

I believe our friendship is stronger now than ever
And I'm hoping that you see it too
Because the way you laugh and how you make me smile
Is worth more than a mere sign of benevolence
But a merge of amity and ecstasy
Norman Crane Dec 2020
Everything happens at once. The mixing
of blue-green dropping white on cold brown rocks,
a maelstrom of water sounds affixing
themselves to fine hovering mist which talks
pouring and pounding to the surroundings,
flat river interrupted; sculpted liquid
fluctuations arising / collapsing
ever-changing life depicted in mid—
crest: trough, tribulation, swirl and foam,
scented moisture feels soft over the jagged
undercurrent. A fish jumps. Water carves stone.
We are released: through spray the river flows,
exiting the eddy and peacefully home.
Andrea Espinosa Jan 2014
your words cut deep,
deep in the flesh of my soul
and that was how it’s always been,
I guess. And we were just waiting for
words to go between the words we said,
to add up to the little things that brought us
together, saying words to each other slowly,
without affixing other words that can drive us
away from each other, like when the love was said,
and when the love was gone, and all we ever did was
say ‘I don’t love you no more,’ instead of what we always
told each other, as if the words ‘don’t’ and ‘no’ are always just
negatively inserted between the cartridges of our vocabulary, and instead
of loving each other more and more, we settled on elisions, thrown between
our words, our sentences, our 5 AM conversations, our used-to-be-connections.
your words cut deep and we tear our tangled limbs. elision. that’s what it will be.
Reluctant to Obey destiny’s call,
The voice from within me re-echoed
Loud as never to ignite mine passion
To in me trigger an avid obligation

Write on was the command

I looked around keenly to see
From whence came the urge
Before long I realized that
The scary charge was within

Write on without hesitation

Then I knew there was a task
Gigantic in nature waiting
I cogitated on how to initiate
And realized it was pragmatic

Write on the time is now

The command again came to me
The urgency of the task ahead,
Was in it undoubtedly spelled out
And now am left but with one thing

To start writing on as commanded
Write on for there is inspiration
Pages never can contain the fountain
Of knowledge lying latent in you

Dare to take the golden pen to
Your thoughts & imaginations pen down
And be so much amazed at the outcome
Which to many shall be a resource

I reached out for pen & paper
Pondered a while to receive inspiration
Affixing pen on paper I began to write
As I dare took the challenge insight abounded

My pen had became unstoppable
My ink flew unceasingly to document facts
I sort to halt and rest but no way
Passion to finish the task had consumed me

I wrote on what should become masterpiece
If I had ventured to stop the call
The volumes of wisdom would exist not
For eternity would have me swallowed up

Knowledge in me would have been wasted
If I never heed to the call to write on
The cemetery would have grown richer
With my joining those who refused to write on.
Saint Audrey Oct 2018
Who carries enough weight already
Shoulders taught, bowing backs under
The extent that is already carried
Strength born from what was torn asunder

That the burden we all place
From misguided necessity
Would hardly disrupt their pace
Sheltered from all uncertainty

A true hero, to save us from ourselves
To walk their fragile line, keeping us afloat
Lest we drown somehow, in our own murk
Shifting, grounding

Shouting out our names
From somewhere behind us
Furthering our doubt
While always reassuring
Keeping us in place
Granting us our freedom
To ignore what we came from
Picking up our broken remnants

Engorging always
To feed a toxic ego
Reaching out ahead
Affixing our alluring
Goal, so we would miss
How it's come to be
What we would achieve
If given half a chance

I guess we'd be indignant
Should we shoulder burdens
Similar in scope
To struggle with the truth

Internalize the world
How it is, not how we'd like it to be
Or how it's been perceived for us
Arlene Corwin Apr 2017
The Pleasant Difference ‘Tween The Spiritual & Scriptural

How to say this briefly:
How to find words for the inexpressible.
They exist.
Here is the gist:
Components - churches, sects, cults,creeds:
The claim of being chosen.
Inner spirit doesn’t need a system woven
Into scripture claiming knowing
What is best for all.
One wherein if you’re good you rise
And if you’re bad you fall.

The faith-based places emphases
On unity of life within the mixture of belief;
Consensus, peace and joy, and getting these;
Transcendent over time and space,
The sense that you are face to face
With truth above reality,
Its indescribability.

Not impossible to voice
With Love that comes, fear that goes!
******, no, more loving kindness big & small,
Universal, if you will.
Permeating, calibrating,
Affixing to an All that’s spirit: all in all.

Practices to help along:
Meditation, psilocybin, prayer and song.
The non- theistic preference
Needs to be demystified,
With road for genius or dunce.
Not piety, religion, magic, paganism, or god-based;
Theological or physical,
But meta-, deeply meaningful,  
Yes mystical:
The core of all.

The Pleasant Difference ‘Tween The Spiritual & Scriptural 4.4.2017
To The Child Mystic II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Nature Of & In Reality;
Arlene Corwin
Read this.
that will neither revolutionize whorled wide web,
   nor pollinate like fecund human loam
viz - it mine neurological nuances here
   within Schwenksville, Pennsylvania,

   my present home,
town pulsating with
   so called "butterfly effect" ineluctably
fluttering microscopically
   like dust motes or invisible foam

(bell leave me) metamorphosed
   mental whim, within cranial dome
(in valise case body electric)
   covered in 50 + nine slim shades
   of gray streaked brown dread fully medium
   length lockets i rarely comb,

   boot food for thought to set literary stage
before affixing my poetic missive -
   from this word wrangler,
   hoof hinds himself dumbfounded

   at **** bang of years cuz - just yesterday
   aye remembered being a boy,
   now i yam more than
   half a century since birth didst age.

without further ado
i offer literary missives enclosed
   within this body politic spooked
   me playful teenage inner child goes "boo"
fur ye to ponder and brew

of his small bread box sized lil motley crue
two daughters due
tee flapped wings, and flew the coop
whereby aye resemble offspring hybrid
   ostrich crossed with an emu,

whose deux progeny sired from personal
   super reproductive goo
swimming swiftly in
   harried styled, swiftly taylor made
   viscous tailored tulle lord hue

carrying miniature bin - laden
   genetic heritage predominantly Jew
wish with one late uncle Sam,
   who preferred to be called cra debt lou
who himself happened to be,

   a milch cow frequent moo
wing for bare naked lady gaga friend
   winnie mandy della pooh,
which induced inxs doth rue
what comprises Darwinian

   Origin of Species to be true
evolutionary biologists versus
   Bible thumping creationists claim
   with tangible proof as their view
perchance includes you
this chimp bull leaves humans
   originated from primate zoo.

NOW **** THE MOMENT TO PREPARE TO SCRUTINIZE
MY WRITTEN ATTEMPT AND HOPE MY OFFERTORY
DISTINCT FROM OTHER GALS N GUYS.

thankful to enjoy genesis of thoughts
from whence doth spring germ
of an idea, that either takes root
(exhibiting potential to live with
arms strong) when just a tender

vulnerable shoot (ephemeral as notes
issuing from a magic flute)
within fifty plus shades of gray matter
per this fifty plus year ole coot?

This need dull in haste tack
search for source that gave rise
per process to enable **** sapiens
to think doth nag horse sense
of this poet as he initially digs shallow,

yet sometimes forced to spelunk
into crawl space narrow and shallow,
or shine laser focus into a chasm
teetering on brink (hunting down

gamesome elusive dodging catlike whims)
out pace readied whorled wide net
to capture alive agile rat fink unseen
quiet as a mouse notion gives hardy fellow
(quite a chase) scurrying thru micro
cosmic burrow of Manhattan skyscrapers

at a blink, said quarry vanishes
without a trace just as quick mental cogs
and wheels generated riveting link
connecting bot sized tinker toys pinging

within cerebral cortex appearing random
as nonsequiturs conscious kinks via
distracting ability to latch onto awesome
fleeting mindspace inducing minor frustration
at lack of ability to nab (albeit painlessly)

zinc shimmering insight cognizant ability
likened to ode to Grecian urn vase frieze
depicting ever closely captured thought
process, cuz lifespan shorter than a wink
king third eye blind comfortably numb beatle browser.
High athwart global sphere
planet Earth doth app pear
tubby totally tubular as a mere
twinkling gem devoid of lesions from hare
brained schemes to exploit near
Gaea, where

legions of self aggrandizement tear
ring into all four corners  
   of terrestrial firmae orb queer
hull us wreaking indiscriminate havoc,

   yet blithe dismissal mare
ring greedily inducing
   brass knuckle sandwich lobbed punches
   punctuating each pugilisitc
   jude dee ish us punch with denunciatory jeer

accompanied in situ with a malicious glare
destroying staunch
   eco-friendly advocates tabulated violations
   kept under lock and key  
  within a filing cabinet dossier
to hell rants Donald Trump and his miscreants
   in reference viz those “FAKE” defiant, hippo critical
   defenders of Earth, wind, fire, and air

subject to rampant wanton (soup per) discrediting  
   substantiated scientifically airtight conclusion,
   sans irrefutable linkedin cause and effect
   against human perpetrators
   rampant environmental abuse

pegged since that first Margarita
   signaled industrial age crowdsourcing,
   crowing, crowning deuce
ex machina leveling landscape until
   scoured bowels of oblate spheroid glacis loose
to wring and extract sought after mineral wealth
   essentially wrenching, hammering, nailing cinch,
   which global gem analogous

   to affixing a polarized noose
specific metals deemed precious
   justifying reckless ramifications thin as gruel excuse
whereat said esteemed Mother Nature privy ledges
   sheared to extract vis a vis akin to a sluice

industrial machinations insyc –
   dynamited, sheared, sound blasted to rob
   (point blank with no criminal sentence),
   especially when conglomerate
   conspiratorial corporations
   violated most every truce

boot at bottom, any vow to tender flora and fauna,
   a dead letter steeped in violations ruse
vitiate prior drafted conservation pacts signed, sealed
   and delivered with “faux” obeissance

uttering lame excuse
in an effort to squeeze and seize
   (by aggressive means if necessary), the goose
that laid golden eggs intended to line deep purple pockets –
   brushing aside accusations with VAMOOSE,

particularly to marginilized Native Americans
   already a shadow of their former glory,
   but production even at the expense of
   slo-mo genocide annihilation a road block
   to sought after mineral deposits juiced

waiting for opportunity to rake landscape bare
   as the Moon (with a eh “No big deal attitude)”
indiscriminately sowing seeds of bleakness
   via uprooting, scraping,

   and pulverizing plants and animals
such as Bull Winkle the moose
and crown such egregious destruction
   claimed as righteousness purportedly pinpointed

   within religious texts to render unto haven
   of innocent creatures, and other organic life,
   the God sent email to reduce
once resplendent oblate spheroid,
   now nothing but a wasteland
   even a nightmare to Doctor Zeus!
Connor May 2018
A witness to Epochs
sired in miniature
Arabias, listening to the drawn-out
gasp of God, our
sleepy master rising from their
daybreak chamber

Future fatherhood adorned/Sunkissed mirage of
Irises doubting, adrift &
hazel/Adulthood is an aching spectacle
between selves/pinewood casts salivating for
devotion

I willfully lend to the wild Palace of my mind,
affixing gargoyles
and Memento Mori,
dispose of playthings & grieving Tulpas
with great inclemency,
marking dates to see the gold spring from my
Hiraeth Valley

I dream of shadow music
and the Sea, Oyamel trees quiver
at an approach, here-

Another turning
do you think we could put aside the internal asides prattling past rapture gone rupture, table or under the table throw those scraps to the dog that's pawing in favor of what's under our noses, on the plate facing up at us smiling a reflection in a circle of ceramic glaze gazing past the imperfect ramifications crystallized in those times and bones that still do bind and also occasionally chafe when they chime, the fragmented fancies that danced behind eyelids then knocked back the whites taking unglued precedence while neurons sat back and just watched momentum pulse, so stunned to find where you stopped there I started, and the only push-pull was helixical orb tossed on linguistic winks kinking our forever-tied lines that plead underneath the jilted to stop slanty-eyeballing the looking glass crass, affixing shark fangs where one once only saw wings, though truth be told, I have both of those things, but drain you, I won't, and feed you, I will, leaving marked memoirs of my work, but it'll be your fault, really, evoking the majestic while summoning the animal that reminds me why I'm knees-grateful to be a woman

?
The serpentine and ageless liquid
   mercurial possessed snake
eternally swallowed
   since the beginning of time
   one unquenchable thirst to gorge and slake
slurping up an icy cold mountainous pebbly shake
   yet fresh as an irish spring
   using thy tongue o gaelic spake
   then tumbling down into the cavernous abyss
   subsequently carving
   a deep criss cross patchwork
   across the rock hard rugged topography
   like the handiwork of some invincible force
   commandeering a humungous rake
affixing legendary signature
   quasi-indelible grooves
   only for the near indomitable
   chiseled masterpiece
   to be erased, twisted then wrenched
   by that natural landscape altering phenomena
   identified as an earth quake
creating a fresh tabula rasa to begin anew
   inviting waters from on high to carve
   from the ebbing and flowing millennial currents
   which eventually find a more direct course
   beginning as trickling creek
   swells from winter rains
   and thence in summer while the sun doth bake
   when flora blooms and fauna prance
the firmament  then abandons
   bent elbow oxbow lake
as a former bend in the river.
My Abandonment Issues cordially invite your Abandonment Issues to usurp their lack-of-****-togetherness with a fusion of festivities!

What: A.I. Fusion Fest
Where: Sunny Padded Land
When: Now - You Can Never Leave

Activities Include:

- Acro Yoga
- Tandem Biking
- Graffiti Affirmation Wall
- Cuddle Puddle Grotto
- Synchronized Trust-Falls
- Sock Puppet Heart-to-Hearts
- Fear Archery w/ Custom Targets

Don’t miss the main event!

Three-Legged Race

Utilizing all the greatest affixing technologies (including, but not limited to: rope, Duct Tape, Super Glue, Gorilla Glue, wet cement, bungees, resistance bands and all variety of *******), the race will begin by the Fountain of Unknowns, ascend over Mount Paranoiac and finish down in the Valley of Chillax AF, where there will be infinite punch and pie.

No need to RSVP. You’re coming.

:)
(March 25, 1942 – August 16, 2018)
(Thee ALFA (alpha) BETS Best "Queen of Soul")

Though unbeknownst to the diva,
where thee now sings with angels
(me, an invisible nameless spirit),
accompanies your mythic legendary
legacy afterlife already doth
Make Me Feel Like
an average star descended from on high,
thus inducing this generic solar stellar body

to exalt My tribute to A Natural Woman,
who unwittingly wrought
and outshone such golden gilded
fused steely mettle, imbuing
A Brand New Me,
twinkling in your posthumously shadow
nonetheless averring
A Change Is Gonna Come

pronouncing A Deeper Love
toward A Natural Woman
bonfires bursting bonafides
when ye whar barely done being cradled,
prepubescent maternity became latent
within yar promising nubility didst
budding classy pet auld aging dame
retaining topnotch je nais sais quois

A Rose Is Still A Rose
unsurpassed vibrancy despite
super nova waning zenith,
thence descent into hallowed grave,
where Ain't No Way any other Angel
could hold an Olympic torch
blindingly as thee to
illuminate Another Night

infused with brilliant poignant
heartfelt sentiment, sans
awe rays burning queenly
pulsating Baby I Love You
no matter crossing into
now ye didst cross over
into eternal resting place
thus, apropos for thyself

a disembodied essence
unbeknowst to thee to intone psalm
afterlife Border Song (holy Moses)
guiding holy spirit across Bridge
Over Troubled Water
asking thee to Call Me
upon arriving safely
decoupled from Earthly

Chain Of Fools,
where timeless Day Dreamin'/Dreaming
setting par excellence moral compass
asper Do Right Woman Do Right Man
diligently subscribing to Doctor's Orders,
whose plaintive insistence begs
cherished honorable muting refrain
respecting Don't Play

That Song (you Lied)
misled by Dr. Feelgood
specialist affixing botox
faux Mona Lisa smile
thorough fare lee exiting
off re:Freeway Of Love
back tracking along boo
love hard of broken dreams

sighing - Here We Go Again
nonetheless, I Knew
You Were Waiting For Me
unknowingly W| George Michael
intonating viz inflection admitting
to thine disembodied spirit,
ye obliviously unaware
blithely divulging unguardedly

"I Never Loved A Man
(the Way I Love You)"
relishing the murmur, "I Say A Little Prayer"
"I Will Survive," cuz bred confidante
to this trusted invisible pal August 2018
amorousness re: "I'm In Love"
aware such romantically
smitten state elusive from

Jumpin' Jack Flash lightening fast,
no matter unbounded toward stratosphere,
yar mortality harbored self
destructive cancerous spores
disease asserting to confidant air of stoicism
soul resilient malignant against
perforce never "Killing Me Softly" (you)
cleaving cerulean celestial

peppering heavenly vault with Oh Me Oh My
Respect plus Rock—a—bye Your Baby
With A Dixie Melody a firm ming
Gibraltar Rock Steady.
The wild unforgiving landscape,
The perilous heat and,
The untamed sun.
A fools conquest the land was.

Dawn comes to the very boundary of the empire,
standing on the uncontrolled border.
A string of forts stretch long and thin,
covering the horizon with their power.

Dawn breaks as the men wash and meditate,
affixing there turban to begin the day.
Sensing a looming threat in the air,
the Sikhs man their posts.

Someone tells a joke to break the tension,
everybody laughs, but the feeling remains.
The lookout shouts about an enormous mass moving on the horizon,
The twenty-one takes their defensive positions.

At least 10 thousand tribesmen,
once there allies but now, in full retaliation,
descending on the forts with only the signalling post,
standing in there way.

The unit is piling up ammunition,
barring the gates to there tiny compound.
The signalman sends a tiny message,
"Can you send help?",
Only with a slight delay, "no".

The men in the unit gathered around their commander,
Ishar Singh, knowing fully that they could make a break for it,
Ishar then tells them calmly about what they are already,
in their hearts, are ready for.

They will stay and,
They will fight.

They will delay the oncoming tribesmen,
as long as possible.
They will buy the forts the time they need,
to call the reinforcements.
This is the first part of the poem 'Saragarhi' and it is based on the events of September 12th, 1897. This is about 21 Sikhs sacrificing their lives to help their brothers.
insync, especially with Amitiza delivered solid ecstasy

Without shadow of doubt
I feel much relief
though literally pooped out
attested courtesy following
(oft posted poem
written some years ago
in short self plagiarism),
where funhouse mirror

humorously distorts physique
disproportionately skinny or stout
as though plagued
with excess adipose tissue
in reality paunch throughout
abdominal area mine
self evident yours truly
generic guy does not work out.

As of early/mid afternoon
today - November 30th, 2021
I could not but barely move
mine whole body felt
analogous to sluggish mollusk
frequent constipation found me
doubled over in gastrointestinal agony
as if elephant or red (livid with rage)

I've re: created how bull
heaver in fiber ****** his tusk
into lower abdominal area dawn to dusk
ah...voila... hence subsequently
blessed natural laxative,
the magic of Daily Fiber
100% natural psyllium husk
also known as metamucil.

Upon sprinkling two doses powder pack,
which orange flavor sweetened
the missus mishmash pop slop
not aesthetically pleasing major drawback
heavy as a full coalsack
sometimes burned and scorched black
movement came swift, on par how fast
snaky Mister Plumber doth attack
obstructed ***** bowl.

Well now... monumental poetic challenge,
I now craftily abbreviate
(think clogged toilet synonymous with blockage) 
waste matter after days did accumulate
ready to apply corkerasp
regarding ****** blockage to alleviate.

Imagine impossible mission to defecate
which debilitating scenario mine accursed fate
frequently recurring more often as yours truly
i.e. latter day saint Matthew Scott got older
****** affliction compromised me
ordinary easy going demeanor
disallowing, disenabling, and not permitting
me - effecting, emulating, and exhaling
Tony the tiger's catchword grrrrrreat

if queried about my constitution
absolute ecstasy found me
expelling bowel movement
weighing approximately hundredweight
though relieved, nevertheless
the toilet bowl clogged,
correcting historical records
on two accounts despite
causing potential ruckus
disaster buffs may incriminate

nsync notion huge bowel movement
(mine) took down (analogous
voyage to bottom of sea) toto Lusitania
and actually additionally
caused separate incident
complex edifice (think Titanic)
both sturdy ships of state
former rendered
latter purportedly crashing
into iceberg me mate.

------------------------------------------------

Lemme explain the essence of a corkerasp

Whenever constipation a pain in the ***
just maneuver this lightweight
metal contrivance made of brass
no matter if anybody
considers this action crass

apply corkscrew motion up the
alimentary canal to remove waste
which most likely will be
thick like petrified paste
stuck deep inside bowels of the
sphincter muscles and solidly encased

causing severe cramps within
lower gastrointestinal tract
inducing one to wince nonstop
from being with ***** matter packed
and no amount of primal groaning
doth loose this hard fact

nor does imagery of freed ****
ease the **** plight
no laughing matter despite how absurd
squeezing does nothing even
applying all inner might

thus necessary to incorporate
unnatural intervention to unclog
****** blockage + uncomfortable bloating
swelling **** the size of a hog
disabling barely any ease to stand let alone jog
yet tis essential per extricating what
feels like one swallow a log
lest epitaph induce impossible eulogy
unless spoken the language of Prague.

Every ounce of effort
required to bend
over gingerly affixing
plunger end of device
to business rear end
best accompanied with close
companion or friend
since ***** deed done dirt
cheap trick will ideally rend
rock solid excrement to roll
and crashing sound send

upon the bathroom floor
possibly inducing seismic
waves less or more
whereby toilet bowl water will pour
over the sides akin to
white caps near sea shore
without doubt making
gluteus maximus extremely sore.
Unsolicited, revered, and praised
potential literary fete,
(yes a bit hyperbolic),
sans mine posted poems that perambulate
such feedback, whither donning *******
("FAKE") facade, Oriel sincere

twittering, nonetheless tis great
for an ego striving to maintain
hum bull modesty, yet I hate
to be misperceived as
arrogant, boastful, pretentious,...wait
et cetera, cuz honestly,

these conglomerations create,
themselves, via some inexplicable
literary process which generate
prestidigitation soon after
affixing wired thinking cap,
whereby positioned electrodes exfoliate

on scalp yup thence, off miniature oblate
spheroid (suddenly barren) of golden locks
most soup Priam wantonly depilate
(envision candidate
undergoing biofeedback,
or...captured as bait)

by...yea (of course) alien invaders curious
to experiment, and subject a random pate
with out of this world tests that agitate
most precious anatomical accouterment
'bout size of average poe tate
toe (actually...almost same consistency)

okay...sorry, this chap doth relate
such comparison to
his own cerebral aggregate,
where he starkly realizes
neurological concentrate
takes a permanent vacation

to distant Palatinate
essentially leaving a void, ah...just
perfect for cosmic outliers to allocate
(no...no...no noninvasive, i.e.)
their laser like gizmos scrutinize how

(albeit unwittingly) to ameliorate
writer's block, thus
glad tubby ("Guinea Pig"),
and let abductors amputate
my killed expense ******* ("FAKE")
noggin pulp struggling to articulate,

(hence quite a relief,
you cannot imagine), dear mate
when fiber optic threads of light
essentially painlessly
(rather ticklishly aspirate)
clump of useless gray matter,
yours truly does implicate

as complicit to cause unnecessary
difficulty to associate
with **** sapiens, an extremely
strenuous task, thence joyful to dedicate
(without being headstrong),
an ***** minimally missed at any rate
long last free to babble poppycock
oblivious as ambitious readers berate!
Squarely conscientious, I unwittingly
sanction selfhood acutely triangulate
courtesy webbed geometry jeopardize,
galvanize pluck nudging contrived arc,
virtually courting temptation aware,

sans impetuousness compromises an
anonymous commingling, nonetheless
electronic fraternization enthralls mine
plucky chutzpah possibility intrigues
yours truly sporting impish grinning

smile across world wide web unsure
quasi cryptic communication decrypted
maybe imperfectly interpreting message
this enamored disembodied spirit doth
chance circling foursquare kibitizing

downplaying grand illusion spontaneity
gist ripples thru this human entity while
comfortably cushioned buffered against
disappointment accepting outcome - par
for the course amidst cyber spatial gulf

nothing ventured brings disappointment
more often than not, this solitary fellow,
a beetle browed fool on the hill smarting
over...he ne'er gathered rosebuds fruitless
ruing foregone opportunities, hence tho'

cocooned against adverse outcome revel
at fleeting giddiness affixing envisioned
smile upon unknown reader, or perchance
another veritable stranger, cuz amiability
need not be sole providence aimed at one
select web surfer, but extended warm free

greeting permissible allow one imperfect
troubadour to sprinkle pleasantries to any
person, whose scrolling intersects with my
genuine not "FAKE" aery mission to offer
abiding friendship e'en if limited to realm
of harmonized synthesized online reality.
As of late - I could not but barely move
mine whole body felt
analogous to sluggish mollusk
frequent constipation found yours truly
doubled over in gastrointestinal agony

as if elephant or red (livid with rage)
bull ****** his tusk
into lower abdominal area dawn to dusk
ah...voila... hence subsequently I tout
blessed natural laxative the magic of Daily Fiber
100% natural psyllium husk.

Upon sprinkling two dose powder pack,
which orange flavor sweetened
upon missus mishmash pop slop,
not aesthetically pleasing major drawback

heavy as a full coalsack
sometimes burned and scorched black
movement came swift, on par how fast
snaky Mister liquid Plumber doth attack
obstructed ***** bowl.

Well now... monumental poetic challenge,
I now craftily abbreviate
(think clogged toilet synonymous with blockage)
waste matter after days did accumulate
ready to apply corkerasp
regarding ****** blockage to alleviate.

Imagine impossible mission to defecate
which debilitating scenario (mine) accursed fate
frequently recurring more often as yours truly ages
i.e. latter day saint Matthew Scott got older
****** affliction compromised me

ordinary easy going demeanor to boot    
disallowing, disenabling, and not permitting
me - effecting, emulating, and exhaling
Tony the tiger's catchword grrrrrreat
if queried about my constitution

when alas... absolute ecstasy found me
expelling bowel movement with effort
weighing approximately hundredweight
though relieved, nevertheless
the toilet bowl clogged,

prompting me to correct historical records
on two accounts despite
causing potential ruckus
disaster buffs may incriminate
nsync notion huge bowel movement

(mine) took down (analogous
voyage to bottom of sea) toto Lusitania
and actually additionally
caused separate incident
complex edifice (think Titanic)

both sturdy ships of state
former rendered foundered
latter purportedly crashing
into iceberg me mate.

------------------------------------------------

Lemme explain the essence of a corkerasp

Whenever constipation a pain in the ***
just maneuver this lightweight
metal contrivance made of brass
no matter if anybody
considers this action crass

apply corkscrew motion up the
alimentary canal to remove waste
which most likely will be
thick like petrified paste
stuck deep inside bowels of the
sphincter muscles and solidly encased

causing severe cramps within
lower gastrointestinal tract
inducing one to wince nonstop
from being with ***** matter packed
and no amount of primal groaning
didst loose this hard fact

nor does imagery of freed ****
ease the **** plight
no laughing matter despite how absurd
squeezing does nothing even
applying all inner might

thus necessary to incorporate
unnatural intervention to unclog
****** blockage + uncomfortable bloating
swelling **** the size of a hog

disabling barely any ease to stand let alone jog
yet tis essential per extricating what
feels like one swallowed a log
lest epitaph induce possible eulogy
possibly spoken the language of prague

every ounce of effort
required to bend
over gingerly affixing
plunger end of device
to business rear end

best accompanied with close
companion or friend
since ***** deed done dirt
cheap trick will ideally rend
rock solid excrement to roll
and release crashing sound sent

upon the bathroom floor
possibly inducing seismic
waves less or more
whereby toilet bowl water will pour
over the sides akin to
white caps near sea shore
without doubt all the while
gluteus maximus extremely sore.
(or swing sets and monkey bars)

A pitch perfect spring day
such as today April 8th, 2022
within quaint hamlet
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
in close proximity within mind's eye
to Lake Wobegon, Minnesota
finds me reminiscing...

When, scads of light years ago
(half life of mein kampf),
while yours truly,
at that time a father linkedin
emotionally, mentally and socially
kibitzing with his two young adorable girls,
ah charming children indeed
(totally unbiased opinion that)
both sweet lassies to boot
figuratively got their daddy
tightly wrapped around all four

of their middle fingers,
matter of fact coercive Munchkin,
and her younger sibling Shayna Punim
both whose playful rebukes
courtesy daughters role playing
stern yet affectionate “mama,”
this papa feigned not to heed,
maybe begetting a boy
(cuz I ofttimes then
envisioned being pro creative
regarding bequeathing XY chromosomes

which engendered gifting us a son;
i.e. ideally conceived male child -
obviously at mercy
of biological random chance
genetic material receiving
proper allotment to garner
personal pronoun predicated
upon strict binary addressable as he/him),
when reproductive gamble roulette
never did yield nor diploid offspring
to carry forth Harris surname

constituting for good measure
genetic qua mixed breed,
would have elicited contrary response,
when playing reversed roles
whereby Matthew Scott the kid
(Billy me) not docile like his real self
and his imaginary male progeny
aplomb (fig your at Tivoli) found me
taking his fruitful lead
apple lee going bananas acceptable
make believe games regarding

above named adult playing
mischievous, innocuous, harmless
behavior committing neither
illegal transgression nor misdeed
from this grown man,
Sir Wren during self to architect
landing flat on me then
palm pilot sized ***
(measured by Andre the Giant)
as if drunk from mead,
where playfulness my creed

those were the days my friend...
years ago that streamed
flicked across thee ethereal net
at lightspeed, I experienced
manifest destiny nsync
with government assigned
mummy dearest head shrinker
taking eminent domain freed
Aladdin side me, those decades,
sans long gone fatherhood
plus roles he learned to succeed

recalling catfights ('twixt
daughters) he assertively refereed,
who cherished those
offspring, he did seed -
reckons adult opportunity
gifted yours truly mentoring
with excellence they did exceed
unlike yours truly
he rarely ever let loose maybe once,
the scairt (of his own shadow) boy inside
subsequently cowering frightened lad,

healthy development anxiety did impede
his spontaneity ****** and leveed,
thus renaissance awoke
to travel back in time
reliving boyhood non disrupted,
and prior to parenthood,
would be less apt to concede
how natural to bond with progeny
fostered by being keyed
into esprit de corps of biological charges,
now grown without need,

nor want of his company (halt)
sudden embarrassment that person,
whose absence in
“My Struggle” did bleed
unstaunched sadness till affixing
available spare time with books to read,
and poems to write attempting to feed
an errant stray tear every now and again,
more pronounced as father time guaranteed
begetting precious bundles of joy,
how pedestrian days

of yore like a tumbleweed
(think T.S. Elliot)
rocketed them thru preschool, kindergarten...
high school, college now this doddering
doth oft attempt (with futility) to reach them...
even cherished memories insync
with Jack and Jill Truck klaxon dost recede.
Aditya Roy Aug 2019
In the sibilant
Sound of dark and tainted painted sky
In back, murmurs jousting with themselves in the prying eye
The horror of the malleable man in the unyielding indigo  cued
Indifferent to the blue, of the youthful red earth, that are our foes shed clued
Bled on the midsummer's numinous blue, mouth to the mouth that beds at  the midnight, **** killing people in the hue oft' clueless again
Often, o'er in o'er in my murmur, someone else writes the remembrances in newspapers, purposes in the promise
This other punishment is daft and promising, promising promiscuous scions on starry minutes of miniature minimalistic wary of the remanded the ****** of the ornate jazz saxophone in an acolyte, and I say that many of them said they what's up
Remember, the ****** emanating witless and tesla innovations, isomers of electric molecules chutzpah oboe
Transcendence, slowly slip in the round mines around the aphrodisiac powerful sadness, held in the wild microphones mating in the free utilitarian economy playing in jazz bands in lines
Silence, in the lines of the musical ears, held their hazelnuts and chewed up the muzak, and spilled more music from their ferries
Down and out, lungs bell, the water smelled like beer, and beer poetry kept me at the break of dawn, when the snorers find dilapidated in missionary fixes, and affixing the dawn once again paddling themselves to the shore,
Then they went, time aged shushing us at the break of shining dawn crummy, ******* and rapscallions hushing the crowd
Dour, ****** plastered ceiling, and antediluvian, dormant
Barking Doolittle, amen to the lord's shadowy wretch
The dogs run out, on the charming the neighborhood with its afternoon
Change in the staid small things, we say
We starry loud dynamo, cloudless climes, do you know that we are short-handed on the stars
But, we can count them in the near future, when they die by the Butch Cassady run on the money, and the Will Durant books
Lie over on the oven in the sonny, listen to that roe often
One and one, no brown eyes left
And no blue eyes left us in rueful dark
Its afternoon, Wednesday and yesterday run, in the sun, bleeding brighter than the stars. saving us from the darkness
Pushing us into the light of a thousand roman wunderkind, kindred spirit in the life of the
Larks that sing in the stile on the stolid, so remember us in this jasmine from the World without words, so it's blue
What's up to blue, excuse me while I kiss the sky?
What's up to?
What's for the run?
What's a fine and rib-tickling poem?
I hate these things
What's right and wrong, and this is forfeiting the captain's joke, and jocular nature, as we survived the time we lost Detroit dreaming up Arkansas, dreaming of you in a different wilting hand, it's on my head
And sinful romance lends your hand to the crime
It's punishing, that you have left us without a starry place not talking of the pejorative
When, while a father with two young girls,
ah charming children indeed
both wrapped around mine *******,
whose playful rebukes
this papa did heed
(who wished for a son),
he never did breed)
aplomb (fig your at Tivoli) found me

taking their fruitful lead
apple lee going bananas acceptable
mischievous behavior harmless misdeed
from this grown man,
sir render ring self to land
flat on me ***
as if drunk from mead
where playfulness my creed

years ago that streamed
by at lightspeed,
I experienced a
manifest destiny that freed
Aladdin side me, those decades,
sans long gone fatherhood
plus roles he learned to succeed
recalling catfights ('twixt

daughters) he refereed
who cherished those
offspring, he did seed
reckons adult opportunity
gifted yours truly mentoring
with excellence they did excede
to let loose once, and always frightened lad,
healthy development anxiety did impede

his spontaneity ****** and leveed,
thus renaissance awoke to relive boyhood,
and prior to parenthood,
would be less apt to concede
how natural to bond with progeny
fostered by being keyed
into esprit de corps of biological charges,
now grown without need,

nor want of this
sudden embarrassment person,
whose absence in mein kampf did bleed
unstaunched sadness till affixing
available spare time with books to read,
and poems to write attempting to feed
an errant stray tear every now and again,
more pronounced as father time guaranteed

begetting precious bundles of joy,
how pedestrian days of yore like a tumbleweed
rocketed them thru preschool, kindergarten...
high school, college now this doddering
doth oft attempt (with futility) to reach them...
even cherished memories insync
with Jack and Jill Truck klaxon dost recede.
About four plus weeks after
frazzling fiasco from friggin fraudsters
white knight still mourns swindled money
Lynne Costello Senior Civil Investigator
(assistant to Philadelphia attorney general)
unable to recoup forfeited funds.

While holed up in castle keep,
(albeit fetchodit fuming father
cursing out blimey scamming creep),
I replay nightmarish scenario
that disallows me to sleep
inconsolable tears yours truly doth weep.

Though secular humanist,
nevertheless yours truly (me)
beseeches a higher power
something in the order of

voltages ranging from
115,000 to 230,000 VAC
Voltage Alternating Current
or Extra-High voltages ranging
from 345,000 to 765,000 VAC.

Courtesy malefactor left me bereft
cyber criminal shrewdly,
meticulously, hucksterish antagonistic
online criminal with deft
once again revisiting series of theft
designed warp and weft
traitor to the cause of honesty
wove webbed, whirled wide net
pounced (visualize yourself analogous
recipient of lionize) de León.

I implicate myself aside from bogeyman
being submissive at financial havoc
fake Macbook Pro wizard
posturing as legitimate
Apple computer technician did wreak
more than laptop malfunction, he did tweak.

Any number of "red flags"
clear as day in retrospect
stand out like a sore thumb
with self reproach
and attendant emasculation
"how could I be so dumb,"
not ready to concede desperation
to scrounge around
for every little monetary crumb
when "Que Sera, Sera
(Whatever Will Be, Will Be)."

Resultant severe emotional grip
courtesy financial fallout
fantasy thought arise
regarding being cursed with
purchasing winning Mega-million
and powerball ticket,
hence the following fantasy.

Lucky lottery winner
…and the super powerball
and mega millions jackpot winner is…
from Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.

No way.

This must be some off-season
April fool and/or Halloween trick or treat.

Yea right.

In my dreams.

A voice inside urges
“take another look.”

Yet upon frenziedly staring
(for what seems like an eternity)
at the matching numbers
(per tickets for both
record breaking sweepstakes)
no denying that every numeral
exactly the same as those randomly drawn.

I don’t know whether to cry or scream.

But, if held at pen point and forced
to splutter out how such winnings
would be managed (from mine mouth
to God's ears) such fantasy will be elaborated
within literary exercise
(just for the purposes of this writing contest),
I now let finger flit to and fro,
hither and yon across qwerty keyboard.

Though a pauper, no ambition
could goad me to live like a king.

The immediate step would be
to seek professional top-notch guidance
from a sterling gold reputable investment banker.

He or she to be a staunch advocate
of wise management
sans such substantial windfall.

Consent to be given for a chunk
to be divested into high yield
money market funds with a modicum of risk.

Other dollops off currency denouement
elected to be doled into
on demand personal funding accounts.

A suitable proportion thence hedged
toward monies for thee spouse and
two darling daughters.

Said wife would be awarded ample chunk
to meet her present
and future financial needs and/or wants.

Since she tends to be tempted
to spend any cash on her purse (son)
plus pose (on bended knee) plaintive pleas
for this husband to drain his meager resources,
a ceiling limit incorporated
within said deposited arrangement.

Each progeny (both charming young women)
established with academic, catastrophic, exotic…
healthy portfolios.

Upon reaching age of twenty-one
release of full access to aforementioned bonds,
dormant fiduciary interest bearing,
known, noteworthy
Yankee Doodle dandy legal tender.

Even though total claim to do as they wish
with apportioned denominational millions.

A caveat will include disallowing banal,
flagrantly haphazardly spent (even though
exercising a spending spree not illegal),
the contractual obligation affixing
each offspring will witness the forfeiture
from fathers’ instantaneous famed fortune.

Self imposed restrictions viz electronic mechanisms
(probably at least one computer software application
(probably dashed off by kindergartner during recess)
will bar this fanciful papa
to blithely act frivolously,
yet a predetermined
monthly allotment made accessible.

No spending spree will occur sans yours truly
until bulwark of allocation, dedication, gratification…
securely settled analogous
to digital electronic gatekeepers,
which strategy (affording truckload of dollars
to appease capitalistic cravings)
still replete with common cents paid out
to select charities and non-profit organizations.

These agencies to focus on animal welfare
of genus and species besides **** sapiens,
eco-friendly.

Environmental utilities, educationally
non-discriminatory colleges/universities,
and other copasetic, democratic, ecologic,
holistic, non-partisan opportunistic
politically welcome think tanks.
for the umpteenth time
during spate to sit scrawny buttucks
on porcelain throne id est
videre licet toilet bowl...
with toxic water brew threatening
to overflow onto the floor,
and hence found yours truly (me)
immersing himself in the holistic experience
for the pure love of bucket flushing
since applying plunger to no avail

found me able, eager, ready and willing
to whoosh upon a star to enlist
the entrepreneurial daring doo doo  
of eldest offspring to design a corkerasp,
and found (me) zee papa frankly
zapped, pooped, fatigued, et cetera out,
thus daring poster boy afflicted
by recurrent bouts of constipation
to share embarrassing communiqué I post,
a reasonably rhyming poetic shout out

to air flatulent grievances
concerning outsize bowel movement
hoping (fat/slim shady chance)
Mike Rowe happens tubby about,
though shadow of a doubt,
he will avail himself
**** eyes zing thee
nightly dump for yesterday
September 2nd, 2024 - whereby
plying plunger in vain, cuz suction

barely helped obstruction give way,
I nearly lost me life and limb oy vey
oh my dog, the same asinine outcome
which spurred poet to get underway
matter of fact, a replay
of excretion almost
occurred earlier today,
and thus an attempt to describe
a tragicomic scenario
regarding bowel movement

the size of subway tram,
an urgent message to maintenance person,
yours truly must relay
overflowing ***** nearly
found yours truly quay
king, yet impossible mission
arises to portray
with unsightly turgid prose
and cons of situation,
the juvenile elements of harried style

swiftly tailored, I hate to overplay
odoriferous subject matter
nsync with constipation
since laxative delineates,
expedites, facilitates,... née
posits heavy load emanating out ******
quite amazing what
smelly waste exits out me
necessitating able linkedin line
O Captain! My Captain!

I signal emergency mayday
posterior end, a dime size orifice,
which malfunctioning sphincter muscles
one moost never be lackaday sic cull
though kids and adults
laughed back in the day,
if and/or when Danny Kaye
tactfully poked fun including that girl
at such critical ****** phenomenon
equally important as a jackstay
to keep afloat body electric

accursed with ****** ammunition
auxiliary accouterments interplay
analogously precise as
Swiss made timepiece
said system responsible
to expel ****** toxins
upon which sitting on porcelain throne
one can softly utter hooray
thankful to experience relative pleasure
until one becomes feeble minded,

whereat sixty plus shades of gray
matter allows, enables, and
provides enjoyably foray
into the bathroom, which entranceway
hoop fully not barred nor off limits
cuz that primitive
urge one best not delay
lest one requires lower
gastrointestinal intervention
especially if blocked up

***** matter which turns to clay
unless of course one doth
cause damage and betray
respect toward well
oiled human machine
exercising and eating healthy
avoiding backside skeleton musculature issues,
yes... I reckon during twilight years
control over bowels doth slip away.

The Essence Of A Corkerasp.

(which fictitious object contrived
by my then twenty plus year old
third year college student,
(who will turn twenty eight
on December twenty second),,
but SHE would never admit
to birthing such an offal bit of drek.

The essential name arose
from preschool, predicated,
precocious person, and the words....?

Whenever constipation a pain in the ***
just maneuver this lightweight
metal contrivance made of brass
no matter if anybody
considers this action crass
apply corkscrew motion
up the alimentary canal
to remove human waste,
which most likely
will be thick like petrified paste

stuck deep inside
bowels of sphincter muscles
and solidly encased
causing severe cramps
within lower gastrointestinal tract
inducing one to wince nonstop
from being ***** matter packed
and no amount of primal groaning
doth loose this hard fact,
nor does imagery of freed ****

ease formidable **** plight,
no laughing matter
despite how absurd
squeezing does nothing
even applying all inner might,
thus necessary to incorporate
un-natural intervention to un-clog
****** blockage + uncomfortable bloating
swelling **** the size of a hog
disabling bare derriere

ease to stand let alone jog,
yet tis essential
per extricating what feels
like one swallowed a log,
which could presage demise
of sufferer, whereby epitaph
twill induce impossible
eulogy spoken language
where tongues wag in Prague
every ounce of effort required to bend

over gingerly affixing
plunger end of device
to business of rear end
best accompanied in tandem
with close companion or friend
this ***** deed done
dirt-cheap trick will ideally rend
rock solid excrement to roll and crash
(on par traversing highway
to hell) soundcloud, I

without fail regularly out the ***** send
upon bathroom floor
possibly inducing tsunami
seismic waves less or more,
whereby toilet bowl water will pour
over the sides akin
to white caps near sea shore
without doubt making
gluteus maximums extremely sore.
Tyler Feb 2022
slowely caressing souls
on a voyage to understand you.
with each healing intent,
i intend to fix something i have broken.
to reach through the breached breaks
affixing each fixes until i walk upon the unbreached wall in your heart where is home,
but to enter welcomed.
a place where they speak my name with gentle loving lips.
and waxing poetic lip schtick adorned with moustaches

Swarthy, spooky, scary carved
pumpkin faces thickly materialized
out of thin air
as Halloween holiday loomed near
yes... just an innocently naive fickle kid,
who easily did scare,
attended Henry Kline
for 'most every year

elementary grade school
no matter I abided every rule
and colored within every line
turquoise blue favorite jewel
blackening every other tooth
affixing moustache, sideburns,
and beard upon every face kooky rule.

Nor, never stepped on sidewalk crack
to break mother's back
wonder who believes
such poppycock alas and alack
I haint superstitious
nonetheless steer clear of any black
cat, nor walking under any ladder,
especially on Friday thirteenth.

Fear made ordinarily wavy hair
poker straight stand on end
not a muscle I would bend
unfamiliar sounds, smells, and sights
tingling sensation along small hairs
spine - shiver me timbers would send
courtesy paranormal phenomena
this then lad could not comprehend.

To this day, no ghost of chance
finds your truly daring to partake of seance
essentially scaredy cat soiling mine
spongebob squarepants
skittish regarding supernatural realm
best play with Lincoln logs or tinker toys.

Dog bless those who search out
eerie sound and/or sight
or reed macabre genre
upon dark and stormy night
kudos to those talented
gifted, blessed... to write
blood screaming horror
stories, where adrenaline
spurs one to take flight

unwittingly, unquestionably,
unknowingly, unforgettably... right
into path of haunting spectre badlands
housing ghouls, ghouls, sprite
full hobgoblins spellbinding sight

lurk dark shadows at edge of night
shapeshifting costumed masquerade
zealously, thrillingly, blindly
looming larger in height
lumbering, lingering right

before me scenting how afraid...
desperado whose becomes white
as an albino - blood ******* vampire
sharp as razor fangs bared ready to bite

into tender warm succulent flesh
i.e. cannibal's delight,
yet try as I might
feeble literary effort ne'er achieved
to concoct witch's brew where fright
induces blood curdling scream,

thus much prefer to pen lame
lines, where skeletons make no bones
red dully underpaid gig employees game
to pocket chump change
with absolute zero intent to maim,
thus unlikely to devour thyself
or provide selfie before asking name

of groveling, mumbling, sniveling... alien,
a Dylanesque rolling stone
harkening from outer
limits of twilight zone
accursed series of unfortunate events

spirited as token "scapegoat"
penniless and unable to phone
home, a stranded extraterrestrial,
whose familiar turf grown
dragons holed in their dungeons.
A History of Western Philosophy
copyright date 1945

Trenchant treatise purchased
August 25th, 2020
at Limerick Chapel Book Sale
(in Church gym)
offered old library books
cost 25 cents apiece.

Musty tome
seventy five years out of print
found welcome home
nevertheless mine brown
myopic eyes eagerly roam
affixing knowledge
within fifty plus shades
double ****** size
gray matter with cerebral dome.

Aging long haired pencil necked geek
said storied author I effusively bespeak,
his whose pedantic trademark style
revered analogous to beholding
resplendent riches property
of selfless sheikh.

Impossible mission to describe
intoxicating sensation when
yours truly doth imbibe
superfluous words cannot oversubscribe
most august emotional vibe.

Though agog where euphoria doth alight
each word, sentence, paragraph...
metaphorical tasty bite
read outloud with deliberate delight
(tis akin to kid in candy store)

senses luxuriate across
elapsed millenniums excite
genuine fanciful flight
comfortably numbskull buzzfeeding
until time for goodnight

becoming learned about height
civilizations flourished
food for thought insight
bedazzling mental receptors
as if fingers ****** jadeite

perhaps carved as
chess piece (think) knight
phosphorescence generating light
emanating courtesy enthusiasm
powered thru awesome might

thru simple pleasure reading
me oblivious to approach of night
ever since boyhood reveled within world
printed pages poured splendor
(worth more than fine spun gold) outright
dependable catharsis to ameliorate
most any psychological plight
strong medicine agreeable with

garden variety generic bookworm quite
now if ye will please pardon me
aye venture to experience
remote contra dancing right
fully ceased going since coronavirus (COVID-19),
if curious just access
https://www.thursdaycontra.com/
virtualDance.html website.

— The End —