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Bardo Oct 2018
Gloom! Gloom! Gloom!
I can't see the Room for the Gloom
Is there anything else in this Room...
   but Gloom ?
How can I bloom with all this Gloom
   in the Room ?
How can I find my Vroom Vroom ?
I start a poem "Too soon! Too soon!"
And then it stops
And then there's Gloom
Fetch me a Broom that I might sweep
   away all this Gloom
If only there was something else in the
   Room... if only.

Doom! Doom! Doom!
How did you get in the Room ?
Who let the Doom in ?
The Doom is in the Room... Again!!!
Doom! Leave the Gloom alone
Doom!! Put the Gloom down
Doom!!! I'm warning you now!

Shall I fume, shall I fume ?
Locked in here with the Gloom and
   Doom
No! I shan't fume
They'd only say he's too far goon
   (ouch!)
What I need is a boom, a big big
   Boom!
A Big Bang a boom boom Boom!
A Boom BOOM enough to fill the
   whole Room
With that kind of BOOM!
I could take off to the Moon
Then I'd sing a different tune
There'd be no more Gloom and Doom.

But then, where would they go, what
   would they do
Poor old Gloom and Little Doomy
They'd be out there in the cold with
   nowhere to go
Lost without any Roomy
They'd be looking in the window at me
   all sad and teary
My poor Old Gloom and my poor Little
   Doomy.

No! I love my Old Gloom and, I love
   my Little Doomy
I know what I'll do
I'll put the Boom in my Room with my
   Gloom and my Doom
And then we'll all have ourselves a
   HUGE party
A Big Blooming Booming Gloomy
    Doomy
A Big Bang a Bang a Boom Boom
   Boomy Doomy
We'll all have a Ball in no time at all
Down at the Old Gloom and Doomy.
A bit of fun for Halloween.
Dingy dongy tiki tiki,
Boomy doomy  hissy pi,
Hushy hushi, pluckahchaki,
Traki doomy criihh.

Chipy Gippy farafashhh,
Micky mucky boooo eeh ah,
Dingy dongy hikipiki,
Boomy zoomieka.
TR3F1LD Apr 25
in better times, I remember I
began getting quite arrested, like
a ****** susp., by
Harmonía, which keeps serving
to this day as a source of both psychic sunlight
and real enjoyment (sometimes)
which is somewhat funny co[ɑ]mbined
with the fact it was a summer month I
started getting more in—volved in thI̲s diversion
summer twenty fourteen
which means she's something I have bE̲E̲n exploring
for... um... already more than
a decade, like rotten souls of autocratic rogues
["decayed"]
but it's a mite bigger story
given the fA̲ct I'd known
and been sort of into her some years before then
she can be so diverse, from natural
to artificial & including parts of both
plenty of heartbeat types & tempos
and vibes: from nice & mellow
to harsh & evil, from bright to dismal
from refined & regal to energized & feral
she can pep up automotive-buzz-replete strolls
she's there for you in times you feel low
and any kind of insult is something she won't
ever do, unlike a lo[ɑ]t of people; I can hardly be called
jolly, like a harlequin lo[ɑ]cked within walls
of a go[ɑ]ddamn mental
["Harley Quinn"; "Gotham"]
asylum, but, like an environment fa[ɛ]natic
in a paradisiacal la[ɛ]nd replete
with scenes of natural grace, I'm pleased
["blissed"]
that I̲ had a cha[ɛ]nce to be
introduced to her; and all the gO̲O̲d 'bout her
cited through the verse is why I'm glued to her
not a single day of mine is thrO̲U̲gh sans her
but if you think I'm alluding to[—]wards
a close other, you have sure
misunderstood the verse (some of it)
[Unlike Pluto has a tune being, as it's stated by him, "a love song as a metaphor for alcoholism"]
[it's called "Ethel", which is a homophone for "ethyl"]
————————————————————————————————
for I'm not one with a people-oriented frame
of mind, but a music nerd
with a broad extent of taste
for music, but one whO̲ prefers
mostly middle-paced
and boomy forms
of it, such as midtempo bass
midtechno, EDM glitch hop, moombahcore
drift phonk "*******", like a *****'s brain
moombahton, & 2000s reggaeton
but some years ago, when old & new reports
of injustices of the human world
next to the discontent of daily adult-hood were serv—
—ing as ****** fuel in terms
of the ignition of the stupid urge
to get something (boo!) destroyed
to bring against injustice-contributing jerks retribution earned
a craze for more dark-sounding, brutal sorts
of tunes was formed as a substitution for
destruction, like any amusement's purp.
["distraction"; "purpose"]
along with music, another gO̲O̲d means for
getting through the murk
has been, like when a whip's coming thrO̲U̲gh keen curves
sideways with its wheels sliding through the course
of it, creative writing, putting words (mislead)
["creative riding"; "ᵖᵤᵗᵢⁿ words"]
into this seductive-looking form (indeed)
————————————————————————————————
and I really was thinking after the last done work
(that killing joke tale)
that I won't manage to craft one more (usual thoughts)
took 'round three & a half months burned (for the most part)
and the thought of o[ɑ]bligation to wha[ʌ]t's been saving
me from ending up in a darker place in
order to undertake an—other rhyme creation
hopefully, like that racing co[ɑ]ntest on Terminal
Island, I'll have some more to show
that's something I am not sure of, though
["mortal show"; the "Death Race" show from the same-titled movie]
"Harmonía ("obliged" rhymefall)" by TR3F1LD (TRFLD) is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (to view a copy of this license, visit creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0)
I am like your moth in a streetlight's riptide
At both 40-hour jobs all week
Breaking my back just to make things matter
But not in the way you'd like

You always said,
"Get outta here."
In your fanfare
Of incompatibility

Specifically once,

I came home where the expectations should've been low
You were strange, so strange
Criticizing everything i did
Giving me your opinion on every decision
And always complaining about everyone

After four and a half months of working two full time jobs
And putting up with the abrasiveness you're blind to
When I stopped wanting to talk to you, you hobbled up to me and said,
"Oh. Hi. I forgot you even live here."

Yeah, because I work 80 ******* hours a week,
And I can't buy Ramen noodles without you whispering to a housemate:
"Weird. I don't understand why you wouldn't just season them yourself, but whatever you like to do."

At least it wasn't in that boomy, loud-woman's voice.

I can't talk about requesting off four days in June (it's February)
Without you saying, "so you're taking off four days from your jobs to get paid to work at a convention? hmm. all I'm saying is you gotta think about balancing fun with work. I can't imagine you've accrued vacation time yet."

And yes when I moved out you wanted money for the glass top stove which was not damaged which you welcomed four people to use as much as they wanted which I would not use much and went to my parent's house to make food because you just made me uncomfortable when I used your kitchen.

But I couldn't complain because technically, you were nice.

And never made me talk to you

And you wanted money for the drier which had some ink inside the drum which has since dried and the dryer functions perfectly.

And you wanted money for the damages you said were most likely in the room.

It's time to walk away from you. No, you were strange.
No, I don't trust a stranger.

— The End —