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Vipul Mehra Apr 2015
Thrown away carrom men
Hunting for the queen
Grey white turqoise marbles
a spinning top on the table
an electric motor a gadget then
bifid nibbed fountain pen
Cassette wheels and a chip of steel
ran faster than ritzy hotwheels
tazos and trumps spurred triumphant jumps
peacock clay in redolent sandalwood
I collected and carry in the treasure of childhood
Fresh home from therapy,
     and resonate with zeal
**** air cerebral cogs a turn'n
     analogous to rack and pinion wheel

hence attempt made to bare soul,
     sans thru poetry re: veal
ling avidity, asper barreling neurological
     daily kos loaded truck full

     heading toward figurative
     lifelong landfill deposits
     on weekly ******
     logical session I unseal

manipulating bothersome issues
     controlled via bot size thumbwheel,
which grave undertaking i.e.
     professional counseling allows,

     enables, and provides opportunistic
     gradual process at selfheal
ling oft times necessitates
     reviewing silent Virgina reel

comprising the story
     of earlier life piecemeal
akin to a slapdash montage
     chronicling existential ordeal,

now referencing adenoids
     (removal first mention within
     poetic endeavor, when young boy)
     loosely linkedin with nasopharyngeal

pseudo oral palate
     highway tucking each meal
     across miniature bridgework,
     ma late mum meekly

     acceded to doctors orders,
     said operation sub
     sequently deemed unnecessary
affecting negligible decreasing nasality

     predicated on split (bifid
     or bifurcated uvula), viz laryngeal
utterances finds me speculating
     speculating now, whether taking kneel

ling pose possibly coo dove
     wrought divine intercession
giving me super powers ideal
for fighting off being bullied

     gloating this instant imagining
     bringing beastie boys to heel
actual reality visit my kid self,
     a most convenient scapegoat

socially withdraw puny size lad
internalizing hateful barbs glom
     ming up significant emotional gearwheel
inferiority complex predominating

     supplemented with cumulative
     anger, a potent feel
ling exacerbating anxiety prone disposition
     courtesy chromosomal
     (pop'n mom genes) art of the deal.
Satsih Verma Jul 2020
The sage of tree
sits cross-legged under the
shade of dilemma.

Would you pray for
me when the thick forest
of hope catches fire?

Between mantras and
peace, comes the bifid tongue.
Half truth and half lie.
obvious to any person who peruses one or more attempts of mine at crafting freestyle modus operandi to express idea, sentiment or thought experience courtesy me, an educated, intelligent, modest, quiet-natured, unpretentious, and yawping wordsmith, whose main ambition to write constitutes futile dogged endeavor to bring good things to light - figuratively.

Non averse to me
(chilling as an outsize ego freezer)
profusely perspiring
and heavily panting
experiencing one after another
stuff whet dreams are made
frolicking in autumn mist
envisioning breath
emanate out snout
Puff the Magic Dragon
(think Maxfield Parrish painting)
while skirt chasing
and playfully tackling,
a gamesome gamine with verve
mercilessly coquettish ingenue
"precociously seductive"
overgrown ****** wannabe.
Solitude and introvertedness
mebbe made more manifest destiny
courtesy severe nasal notable twang
(otherwise known as split uvula)
yours truly wittingly drew taunts
and unutterable pang
to escape being bullied as scapegoat
entering magical world
of mine imagination
fostered learning about
all creatures great and small
by age appropriate books.

Logophile lusts ever stronger after
twenty six letter combinations
(analogously surrendering to mistress)
that yield an estimated 171,146 words
count them yourself if you doubt me
currently in use in the English language;
according to the Oxford English Dictionary,
an additional 47,156 obsolete words exist.

I luxuriate engrossed
with choice reading material
and out of desperation
to slake insatiable thirst
(to discern syllabification)
yours truly doth read aloud
intently hearing cadence
of vowels and consonants.

Up until I entered six grade
(at Henry Kline elementary -
a one classroom per grade - school)
classmates bullied, derided,
and feigned to hammer -
jabbing leering, nasty
pimping ragout as a rule
which boyhood self of mine
availed a perfect bullseye target
with combination of diminutiveness,
being painfully quiet,
essentially remaining mum the entire day
except when called upon to answer question
thence utterance emanating between lips
produced and emitted
a strong nasal sound to boot
grist for the mill
sans malice meted, mimicked,
and mocked mashup
of mine warped congestion
ah, twas only by a fluke conversation,
whence a speech pathologist
informed my parents about
the Lancaster Cleft Palate clinic,
where oral an examination
revealed minor birth defect
identified as a submucous cleft palate,
"bifid uvula" - meaning the uvula
forked or split into two parts;
it's often considered the mildest form
of a cleft palate, which explained
the severe pinched twang
somewhat mitigated by wearing
a removable prosthetic
fashioned by Prosthodontist
Dr. Mohammad Mazaheri MSC, DDS
fastened with clasps to upper teeth
whereby a makeshift miniature
plastic protuberance closed the gap
so air would be prevented
passing thru my button nose
and thus gentle and soft as a shutterfly
shunted air out thee oral opening
though congenital defect disallowed
returning merchandise back to sender
nor could blame be affixed
at either father nor mother
who both harbored the genetic mutation
now such admissions
re: aforementioned impediment allows,
enables and provides boasting rights
if in a mood to temper
any curiosity or satisfying a rumor
whispered down the alley,
whence I said “ah”
left nagging nincompoops
as if pie hole filled with a gobstopper.

— The End —