Write lyrics like spreadsheets with number crunching
Calculate the isotopes
numerical accuracy in the vein of vain attempts to overcome
the show off tendencies of artist who exhibit flow to illicit
concern about existence beyond what they can see of pedagogical poetry
more concerned with numbers and patterns
who gives a **** what the stress is on the vowel in the third stanza  
lyrically despondent personal correspondents for a publication that says
more about what you know than what you feel
and who you are
computer says no, statistically impossible, synaptic haiku
five seven five
musical ronin
go go gadget of talent
extend-o-pole and flying nimbus as you train like son-goku
hyperbolic chamber where time is an illusion only to collapse
true Saiyans are warriors from the womb until death and after
over nine thousand and the scanner short circuits
write on the clouds with light so hot that it burns on thought
not contact
no constants, just variables, electron microscopes to try and hear the angels sing.
Large Hadrons small dreams, no love, just roman numerals
XIV, ***, Blood transfusions in the realm of “O Positive” and you're just a pessimist, negative Nancy at the end of evolution
Flesh and bone as a tent in your double helix of a genome,
flesh like clay in the hands of some master
but you know no master
no nations, under no gods but Darwin
all 23 chromosome pairs making 46 parts of your brain
screaming neurons fire
WRITE
WHAT
YOU
ARE
If you should so choose as to end not with a bang but a whimper
then your memory is forfeit
contribute in some meaningful semblance of sarcasm and sinsethesia with anesthetic medications of pop remedies and voided memories
of sinthesisia
Smell the colours and taste the sounds of pen on paper
when you never own a pen or a pad
just a bright white rectangle you stare at for hours on end
No thoughts just Digg and Reddit
your only contributions a thumbs up or a red thumbs down
like buttons
but no dislike, because if you've got nothing nice to say
then say nothing
unless you're outrage and full of spite
and morose
at the state of human nature
beauty and song thrown out in an effort to leave nobody behind
and so we have a generation coming in
at the age of 5, who are told new math
new science
wrote memorization of equations
no thought process, no argument about relation
theory of relativity, the genious mind just numbers and letters on a page with squiggles and lines that don't have to mean anything more than they mean on the book
we have a generation with no lust, no hope
Do they dream in black and white?
do they dream at all?
is the consequence of IQ tests and graded paper intelligence
the thirst for knowledge and creativity?
WE HAVE TO SCREAM
at the injustice
Burn it to the bricks and ashes
we hurl through the windows
in the streets and in the parks
car radios and clock towers sold
for cheap homemade *****
dance around the fire like the wild things are
LET THE WILD RUMPUS BEGIN
but then we're still hollow
no happy medium, just excess
in the pursuit of Dionysus, trepination,
demon possession is illegal in the eyes of the police and federal law
spread your legs and lean against the car
as they frisk you and plant the seed
of doubt
in the cuffs of your jeans
You have the right to remain silent
but I hope you don't
refuse
question
resist

Walk
Dear Mr. President-
I think it’s time we talk-
See I walk in that same stilled motion-
Engraved in my soul-Sir-is the same old theory notion-
Handed a dripping blood star spangled rag of devotion-
I hear the anthem play as I make way through this sandy ocean-
Yet I have compromised for the life that I have chosen-
Sir-
I am frozen-
Stuck among the simple brainwashed component-
Wondering where home went-
And they say home is where the heart is-
But what if the heart has left home-
Then it’s been condoned-and postponed at the emotion that should have been so home grown-
Yet I am so alone-
I’m surrounded by thousands of drones-Moving in illusions to the beat of contemporary confusions is leaving the stink of retribution and the contusion on the spirit of this institution Keeps proving while correspondents are continuously reviewing the inability to honor the constitution-
So with all due respect-sir-what the hell are we doing-?
I am losing my G-d **** mind-While patient politicians predict the estimated time-
And in the mean time-Bullets fly by brittle bodies-Rotting minds wait for mind-full plotting-Knowing knowledge knocks simple logic-And it is chronic-
And I don’t mean the kind you smoke-But more so the kind that poke jokes by late night hosts-
So when the hell did is this war become a show?-
My soul it lays defeated-physically-mentally-and emotionally-depleted-
I am bleeding-
Needing a reason to keep on breathing-Dreaming of a moment when my mental torment becomes dormant-And I am no longer fending-but feeling-Kneeling-Screaming-Asking-
The Lord for a meaning-
These fatigues have me stressed and fatigued and this disease it seeps deep into my sleep-And I just creep hoping my weary feet don’t lead me to a concaved grave that bleeds-
As trails of remorse stream down my cheek-
I plead-
With you Mr. President please set precedence consider my wishes relevant I just want to go home to my residence where Corrupt Cooperate Capitalist no longer have this regiment-and the elements of peace sir have a higher percentage than that of the deceased-
See-
These dog tags come with body bags perfectly delivered in a neatly folded flag-And the fact remains Sir-it’s an endless game-Sir-we are trying to conquer a region we can’t maintain-Sir-So I ask you to refrain-are youth from being slain-Please-let wisdom reign-Indulge in peace not in pain-Please sir-go against the grain-in that stilled motion-I walk the same-
If you recall Sir-
I voted for change-

Something stinking this way comes
not just the nausea of cobblestone
on Sundays and all public holidays
'neath the stairwell of insidious intent
hooked onto the static line for ages
the suicidal fish sinks deeper in the
pool of bile but cannot drown, so he
toes the line of the drama queen via
the lament-laden path trodden by
god's servant, past the corner where
foreignicating correspondents collide,
turn right or left – doesn’t matter
which way he chooses, it’s wrong.

The misfortune of being missed by
a Fortuner, he proceeds to jump off
Tilak Bridge and is hit by Range Rovers
endeavouring to hit and run after
the mundane Meru that lost its wind
shielding itself from the tyranny of
daddy's little boys with flaccid toys and
***** mouths and itchy trigger fingers,
misadventure interrupted they pause to
douse the flames of the dying but
urea isn't carbon dioxide; it's piscicide.

Something Kafkaesque calls him but it's
masked with the aroma of ******* served
in the nick of time from 22 through 71,
past Lahore Chowk down Baker St.
Pedestrian rat on the wrong side of
a one-way expressway to your skull
about turn into pitch black cul-de-sac,
scurries in through the out grille gushing
acerbic symphonies from the basement,
storm-water drain up against the tide,
never learnt to swim yet he tries.

After a while, she'll be home and dry.

The low ceiling makes him slouch
in and out through endless maze,
daily grind never takes a break
no room to turn around walk out,
yet again he forgets not to stretch
yet another fresh bump on his skull
now there are four score maybe more
benign, perhaps, who knows?
rats can't scan, only cats can.

The ache's spread to the limbs
the head and the hypertensive heart
then anterior now posterior
the costive claustrophe bleeds again,
it's a duct with a view downstairs,
he's a ****** not entirely by choice,
tom cat jerry kitten eating in and out
the pie is beyond grasp, at the exit
lies a mousetrap sans the bait,
nothing else for him to do but
work his fingers to the bone.

Sheets of white piling up on my desk
Red alerts with red flags flooding my mail
The little ping, ping, ping of incoming messages from various correspondents
Demanding my attention

"You should learn to say no; stop doing everything by yourself."

Once, my insides would clench and I'd feel like I'd been
Kicked in the shin whenever I see something that reminds me of you
But now, search as I might, I can no longer see your face
Even down memory lane, you've vanished as suddenly as you did in reality

Other events flow like running water, with the clarity of a clear lake
Yet when I try to recall the words you said
It was as if a mischievous kid decided to mess with the tap
On; off. On... off. On... off. On; off.
A buffering in my mind like chopped up notes of a song when a video wouldn't load properly
1991. 9893. 0306. 162. 0341. Numbers are all I remember.
How did
Your smile look like?
How did your voice
Sound like?

I stare at the excel sheet I've been populating
I stare at the values I've been entering
One after another, work requests come
One after another, the traces of you go

A yell for the child comes with momentum
It shakes a creak out of each elderly step and surrounding glass fixture
Wailing wakes the set of mahogany stairs before stopping at the moat of the dudette’s dungeon

Kaboom, it kicked the door in on the dream

Enter a flow of sunlight
Now visible dancing off the sweaty leaves and onto the walls of the hallway
Leaping onto the eyelids of our beholder
She turns to face the wall
This empty vessel isn't ready

The yelling quickly becomes relevant
As it Sharpens into an irritating spear  
Creating unwanted foramen
Making mesh out of the impermeable cushion enveloping the chrysalised girl

The parent is a lackluster alarm clock that she bought
But still wants to beat the **** out of.
Though they serve their purpose
the half conscious tend to be ungrateful

A smile breaks open now
knowing such noxious noise is futile Fighting the lull that was already present in the room.

Going through the first motions her feet find a base
and her socks slide dangerously over splinters and thornish nails peaking out of the floorboards
The drums of her feet meeting the stairs announce her arrival.

On the first floor there awaits a vision of her childhood
Her father watching programs and eating breakfast with Charles Osgood and his correspondents
Mother making moves towards the car.

She’s surprised
The sweet smell tricked the girl into believing adventure land had been relocated to her kitchen.


She witnesses Bands of fibrous smoke slide off of the bacon
And harden as happiness on the rims of her nostrils
Her hunger whispers clear thoughts and primitive instincts from her core
And a shell of rubber pellets is released to ricochet around in the girls belly like a couple of quarters in a piggy bank -
Wants reverberate and drive up her throat
Driving her hands to the cooler of the three tired skillets

She does a quick but thorough survey of the stove top eyes hitting every grease patch and
Yellow egg puddle worth avoiding

Sitting at the galaxy black table
Jaw tensing against its will
Gums sweating and shocked anxious
Tastebuds wiggling into the room left available by the imagination
Eager on ripping into fattening pleasure

Osgood leads them into their moment of Zen to be ended at the pace of the subject
Father different from daughter
Daughter different than the mother.

I heard about
this kid
the other
day

the one
who
got run over

I can’t remember
his name
and
on the news channels
they only
show
blaring ambulances
and
well-dressed
tv correspondents

as far as I know
there’s a funny-shaped
deer hiding under
the white blanket

I was I could remember
that kid’s name,
he was 17
or 15
or 12
or 5
or some
terrible age
like that

but all I can find out
is that another innocent
life has been lost
and that at 9
Friends will be airing
a re-run

I want to write long rambling letters
Like Ginsberg, Kerouac Burroughs
Stream of consciousness
The sea of unconsciousness

But I have no correspondents
No one writes letters
None of my friends ever have
No one puts pen to paper

Texts are ethereal wisps of smoke
Letters are concrete things
That belong in old shoeboxes
Until the words fade into obscurity

I should deliver my letters to the void
With no mailing address, no stamps, no nothing
Just drop them in mailboxes
Like a single raindrop falling into the sea

The words won’t be trapped
In my head or in in old notebooks
Or in undiscovered corners of the web
But floating out there in the kosmos forever

Mark not the day for grief
nor gather round to celebrate
though the time for either was not brief
the wounded heart they will not satiate.

Hours, days, weeks and months
the heart breaks and thunders
hide not the tear or smile once
for you might miss lifes wonders.

I was astonished to receive over 60 messages yesterday about poems I had recently posted.

But I was appalled at the possibility that some of the correspondents had not appreciated that many of these poems were not written by me, but were favourite poems that I wanted to share with others.  Most of them by authors long dead, but all within the public domain, and all attributed.

Reassuringly, however, many of the tributes were for my own verse and I simply wish people to know that where no attribution is given, the work is my own.  Otherwise the author's name will always be revealed.

Sorry I have not written this in verse :)

Politicians, when questioned, who begin their answer with “So”... Those who waffle when questioned and yet they clearly don’t know.
Juggling “ums”, “erms” and “aahs” when struggling to avoid the truth.
It alienates, infuriates and generally makes those interviewed sound unprepared, uninformed, dense, almost uncouth.
But that doesn’t stop them!

The nation’s thirst for updates demands Government be contrite. Approaching difficult situations, yeh - but ours, dropping ******* left & right.
It means an address from a hapless minister almost every night.
Each department must have top aides quaking in their boots
because the media correspondents, incisive, sharp, erudite and firm
shoot tricky questions, deliberately, to make the politicos squirm.

It shines a light on what the country needs... clear thinking, logic common sense, honesty, truth, stealth and less guille.
Not subterfuge, not **** covering,“let’s dodge the bullet” style. Certainly not ten grand extra for having to work from home.
But sharper more contrition, put yourself in our place for a while! We want to be reassured, buoyed up, not consumed with bile.

You get more support and sympathy if you just tell the truth!

umpteenth heat wave since onset of summer...
sizzles Delaware Valley today August 26th, 2022

Said geographical area composed of counties
located in Southeastern Pennsylvania,
South Jersey, Delaware, and
Eastern Shore of Maryland.

Sweltering temperatures
figuratively grip human zoo
bipedal hominids (yours truly,
an olive - garden variety simian)
seek much sought after shade
under whirled wide webbed yew
encompass vantage point to view
how flora and fauna cook née stew.

Weather records (temperature + heat index)
(one for the books) chart mercury
rising hot enough to melt tar,
which indicates global warming
quite evident I fear,
what with mean Fahrenheit degrees
from January – August 2022 (thus far)
noticeably above norm for this time of year
prognosticators foretell forecasts
per this third planet from the star,
which inhabitants upon Mother Earth
burden of responsibility must bear

billions of people wanton pollutants
ratchet up barometric millibar
dialing up greenhouse effect,
which serious scenario scientists fear
correlation from profligate offal ways
traced from freed genie in the jar,
no longer stretch of imagination
affects mankind did sear
since day of reckoning,
whence Prometheus set stage for war
pitting mankind against Gaia
urgent messages we fail to hear.

Dystopian forecast impossible mission to avoid
since doomsday thoughts pervade consciousness
after perusing newsworthy information
globe trotting correspondents riskily employed
imperiling their life and limb to acquire
truthful natural and/or human interest stories
occurring across all four corners
of oblate spheroid,
i.e. world wide web,
whereby Earth situated within nebulous void.

I try mine darndest to maintain optimistic aire
all the while gleaning apocalyptic intimations
courtesy human engineered phenomenon
all the more rhyme and reason to beware
**** sapiens on brink of armageddon,
especially when trustworthy cognoscere
painstakingly document their research
and without lacking hesitation declare

drastic paradigm shift away
from dependence on nuclear
energy and fossil fuels everywhere
else climate change could bitta bing
bitta bang hasten global warming,
where wicked watery wasteland
wreaks bleak soggy frontier
backed by popular demand
majority trumpets grandpoobear
for president, he who donned hair
actually he got bewigged courtesy fake
orange toupee, which got blown away
while he hoisted himself
with his own petard.

Imagine dragons if ye will - one immense
ferociously diametrically,
and climatological, cosmological,
geomorphological, meteorological phenomena
opposite that of Polar Vortex
(perhaps an apropos
nom de plume
would be Hades Furnace)
asphyxiating, clapping,
and encapsulating thee
entire oblate spheroid planet.

Judgement day could be similarly
blazing hot on the saddle, or cold
as a witch’s ***, which constant reminders
during Spartan, slated singe shearing,
stoic upbringing inured us Lutherans
to bite the figurative bullet
(which melted like caramel),
during those scorching, sea-sickening,
and sunstroke unbearable vaporizing winds.

No matter the temperature considerably cooler
holed deep within man cave
here within Lake Wobegon,
(especially with a box and desk fan
blowing pleasant air), nonetheless
I still lose out viz zit head by exertion
as a zero sum game.

Said geographical area composed of counties
located in Southeastern Pennsylvania,
South Jersey, Delaware, and
Eastern Shore of Maryland.

Sweltering temperatures
figuratively grip human zoo
bipedal hominids (yours truly,
an olive - garden variety simian)
seek much sought after shade
under whirled wide webbed yew
encompass vantage point to view
how flora and fauna cook née stew.

Weather records
(one for the books) chart mercury
rising hot enough to melt tar,
which indicates global warming
quite evident I fear,
what with mean temperatures
from January – August 2021 (thus far)
noticeably above norm for this time of year
prognosticators foretell forecasts
per this third planet from the star,
which inhabitants upon Mother Earth
burden of responsibility must bear
billions of people wanton pollutants
ratchet up barometric millibar
dialing up greenhouse effect,
which serious scenario scientists fear
correlation from profligate offal ways
traced from freed genie in the jar,
no longer stretch of imagination
affects mankind did sear
since day of reckoning,
whence Prometheus set stage for war
pitting mankind against Gaia
urgent messages we fail to hear.

Dystopian forecast impossible mission to avoid
since doomsday thoughts pervade consciousness
after perusing newsworthy information
globe trotting correspondents riskily employed
imperiling their life and limb to acquire
truthful natural and/or human interest stories
occurring across
all four corners of oblate spheroid,
i.e. world wide web,
whereby Earth situated within nebulous void.

I try mine darnedest to maintain optimistic aire
all the while gleaning apocalyptic intimations
courtesy human engineered phenomenon
all the more rhyme and reason to beware
**** sapiens on brink of armageddon,
especially when trustworthy cognoscere
painstakingly document their research
and without lacking hesitation declare

drastic paradigm shift away
from dependence on nuclear
energy and fossil fuels everywhere
else climate change could bitta bing
bitta bang hasten global warming,
where wicked watery wasteland
wreaks bleak soggy frontier
backed by popular demand
majority trumpets grandpoobear
for president, he who donned hair
actually he got bewigged courtesy fake
orange toupee, which got blown away
while he hoisted himself
with his own petard.

Imagine if ye will - one immense
ferociously diametrically,
and cosmologically phenomena
opposite that of Polar Vortex
(perhaps an apropos
nom de plume
would be Hades Furnace)
asphyxiating, clapping,
and encapsulating thee
entire oblate spheroid planet.

Judgement day could be similarly
blazing hot on the saddle, or cold
as a witch’s ***, which constant reminders
during Spartan, slated singe shearing,
stoic upbringing inured us Lutherans
to bite the figurative bullet
(which melted like caramel)
during those scorching, sea-sickening,
and sunstroke unbearable vaporizing winds.

No matter the temperature considerably cooler
holed deep within man cave
(especially with a box and desk fan
blowing pleasant air), nonetheless
I still lose out viz zit head by exertion
as a zero sum game.

sizzles Delaware Valley today July 16th, 2024

Said geographical area composed of counties
located in Southeastern Pennsylvania,
South Jersey, Delaware, and
Eastern Shore of Maryland.

Sweltering temperatures
figuratively grip human zoo
bipedal hominids (yours truly,
an olive - garden variety simian)
seek much sought after shade
under whirled wide webbed yew
offering protection from the sheltering sky,  
which heavenly reflection within
shining sea witnesses wahoo,
whereat fisherman angling
to encompass vantage point to view

how flora and fauna cook née stew
scorched wildlife
postpone impossible mission
to search and rescue
despite bucket brigade lined in a queue
to stanch imminent wildfires
sparked by lightning striking
dry as kindling tinder
linkedin with El Niño and climate change
omnipresent phenomenon offered preview

Weather records
(one for the books) chart mercury
rising hot enough to melt tar,
which indicates global warming
quite evident I fear,
what with mean temperatures
from January – July 2024 (thus far)
noticeably above norm for this time of year
prognosticators foretell forecasts
per this third planet from the star,
which inhabitants upon Mother Earth
burden of responsibility must bear

billions of people wanton pollutants
ratchet up barometric millibar
dialing up greenhouse effect,
which serious scenario scientists fear
correlation from profligate offal ways
traced from freed genie in the jar,
no longer stretch of imagination
affects mankind did sear
since day of reckoning,
whence Prometheus set stage for war
pitting mankind against Gaia
urgent messages we fail to hear.

Dystopian forecast impossible mission to avoid
since doomsday thoughts pervade consciousness
after perusing newsworthy information
globe trotting correspondents riskily employed
imperiling their life and limb to acquire
truthful natural and/or human interest stories
occurring across all four corners of oblate spheroid,
i.e. world wide web,
whereby Earth situated within nebulous void.

I try mine darndest to maintain optimistic aire
all the while gleaning apocalyptic intimations
courtesy human engineered phenomenon
all the more rhyme and reason to beware
**** sapiens on brink of armageddon,
especially when trustworthy cognoscere
painstakingly document their research
and without lacking hesitation declare

drastic paradigm shift away
from dependence on nuclear
energy and fossil fuels everywhere
else climate change could bitta bing
bitta bang hasten global warming,
where wicked watery wasteland
wreaks bleak soggy frontier
backed by popular demand
majority trumpets grandpoobear
for president, he who donned hair
actually he got bewigged courtesy fake
orange toupee, which got blown away
while he hoisted himself
with his own petard.

Imagine if ye will - one immense
ferociously diametrically,
and cosmologically phenomena
opposite that of Polar Vortex
(perhaps an apropos
nom de plume
would be Hades Furnace)
asphyxiating, clapping,
and encapsulating thee
entire oblate spheroid planet.

Judgement day could be similarly
blazing hot on the saddles, or cold
as a witch’s ***, which constant reminders
during Spartan, slated singe shearing,
stoic upbringing inured us Lutherans
to bite the figurative bullet
(which melted like caramel)
during those scorching, sea-sickening,
and sunstroke unbearable vaporizing winds.

No matter the temperature considerably cooler
holed deep within man cave
(especially with central air conditioning
set at seventy degrees and a box and desk fan
blowing pleasant air), nonetheless
I still lose out viz zit head by exertion
as a zero sum game.