The time I live in is not what it used to be
Social networking is the new talk
Texting is the new writing
Skype is the new "hello"

In the midst of all of this I'm caught in a parallel of do's and don't
Lies and untold truths
And then I realize these kids are only speaking from what they see
Not from what they actually know

The words they speak is out of vanity
Insanity, really
And it's as if they have lost all sight of communication
Forced to find a new way

Teens find ways other than physical confrontation to get their point across
Whether it's harass or some picture their parents wouldn't approve of
Their words are no longer something spoken
But, something thought of and hoped to be understood

This day and time isn't anything "normal"
But, what is normal anyway?
Their violent words scar the heart of others
The things they say will never actually come out of their mouths

When you think about it, who really speaks anymore?
Kids use everything else to say what they "feel"
When it's not really what they feel at all
Just a disguise to be someone they aren't, but to gain attention in the process.

tonight a girl stands on a bridge.
the midsummer breeze dances around her curves.
it begs her to come play.
her heart beats steady.
her gaze is motionless.
the changing air steals a whisper.
"we are moving into the house of Aquarius"
under the bridge a man sleeps.
in a few weeks he'll turn fifty-eight,
but he doesn't know that.
he hasn't had a birthday celebration in years.
he hasn't had anything to celebrate in years.
the bridge is home now.
above  him,
a girl is rediscovering herself.
a girl is rediscovering her fear of heights.
she looks 25 light years above her, at Vega.
in a way, she thinks, she is like this star.
she is about midway through her life expectancy,
but her light died a quarter century ago.
the man sleeps soundly.
a smile is spread across his face.
he is dreaming of his dinner,
a footlong sub.
extra olives, just the way he likes it.
it was his first meal in several days
but tonight, his stomach is full.
he has come to like the grease on his face.
it shows he has survived many challenges.
the hardships have only made him wiser.
the girl, she minored in astrology.
she was fifth in her graduating class.
debt lurked deep in her mind.
it polluted her every thought with
reminders that she was not in control.
now, she tries to justify her current position.
on the bridge.
looking out at Lyra, partially hidden by clouds
"nothing I do will matter."
she reconsiders.
she recalls an anecdote she overheard
on the subway, or somewhere:
"when you're dead, you're dead for a looooong time"
she smiles. kids say the darnedest things.
tonight she curses her 'lucky stars'.
nothing the girl does will matter.
tonight she will become a woman.
tonight she will give  herself to the wind.
the man will find her in the morning.
the man will chuckle to himself.
"they always make it down here,
one way or another"

Someone once said,
kids say the darnedest things.
People say we're teaching kids,
but the reality is,
they're teaching us.

I overheard a young child
in the grocery store yesterday.
It was in the check out line.
The young one was tugging
on his mother's sweater & out of
the mouth of that babe I heard,
"Mommy are all people butting in line *******?"
Everyone turned to look.
"Shhhhhh", she said,
"honey, they might hear you!"
I thought, what the hell,
those kind of people should know better
than to set that kind of example
with small children around!

Someone once said,
kids say the darnedest things.
People say we're teaching kids,
but the reality is,
they're teaching us.

My father
my lovely, unbreakable father
braved the Iran Iraq war in the 80s

My mother had just given birth to my older sister
and my father was to defend Baghdad, leave behind his beautiful wife and first born to live with missiles and miss the first decade's memories of my sister's existence, withdrawn from his love

He was young
but aware that he would need to survive this battle for 3 and that breaking was not an option

My father
my soldier of a father
had to fight in the frying sun, dirt and blood of his brothers for 3 years until the fighting was done
Iran then held him behind bars for 7 innocent years to stomach stale bread, spoiled soup, to rot his teeth and live inside of his head

My father
my prisoner of a father
learned that only so much pain will turn you numb
turn you to silence
when there's no where to run

My father
my hero of a father
stands today as if a war had never come

My father
my selfless father would rather not bare his stories for they have been buried deeper than the bodies he had to bury

When I asked him if he would watch a documentary called my country my country based in Iraq
he immediately declined saying
"Lay buyun takhren ichmendi"
translated into
"I don't want to remember anything"
how ignorant of me to think that it would be a fun thing to do...
while my poor dad is still wrestling with his memories
trying his darnedest to suffocate them
I'll never know what really happened because he is a vault forevermore
he would not dare burden his little girl with what he endured
that sole fact makes me proud to be my father's daughter

My father
my incredible father could probably write a better poem
yet I could not be more grateful for all the sacrifices he made to give me a life

Hell,
if my dad never made it home
I'd never have made it to tell you
about my father
**My perfect father

I just murdered someone I adore,
Now I realize, I can’t handle this anymore
Right now, your stuck in my brain
Everyday a pail of tears I gain every pain.

Reminscing those memories made me feel guilty,
But, why did I did that with my own curiousity?
Yes I am crazy because of my mentality.
But right now I want to come to you for infinity.

Am I going to hell for killing someone?
That darnedest things made me my life done.
Yesterday, tomorrow, I’m living with lonliness
Stuck in a room begging for happiness.

In reality, I want a time machine to happen
So that our love can be deepen
I want to say sorry for having you killed
I    want those promises to be fulfilled.
Yes, I have my life too regretting,
Everyday I think I am too intimidating
I hope my sorry’s can be acceptable,
But I assume it will never be because of those troubles.

I am aware, that day for you we’re too scary,
Realizing that you have to much injury
Just because of my abnormality
Hatred, guilt, aroused, personality
Our story ends within a seconds
Blood and tears falling, with no response
In this world, where I’ve been,
I just want to rewind all those unseen
At the age of sixteen.
You didn’t know how horrible my story.
So please don’t judge me because of my history.

Right now, so proud of holding a gun.
With you I can start with so much fun
I looked at your eyes, didn’t know how it begun
So please come to me honeybun

Last Phrase — I love you t’ll infinity.

as I nearly slept, I nearly
rolled over in my bed, did not,
folded my hands, slumbered on
dreamlessly imagining signals hmmms
Massive
low
notes, accepted as receptible
by my phone with no reply request
acknowledge
accusatory story…, here, I see, okeh

Each sapien sapience, from the womb,
to final dust, despite the mounds of mud,

and opera, werks, shunning sweat,
rear up any child in the way one wishes
that child to grow, see, noble king
one must see those things one wishes
were true,
then rule,
be the head of state itself, the wedom
of all the subjective class, objects
deemed worthless but by thy
grrrace, grunting there is a hell. there is, there is
as it is said Christians must believe,
having as one prays, even now,
those needs, cast off all care,
imagine all debts, all paid,
no offering to prove it
needed, only be
left to see your own way, open eyes, a bitter taste,
aftertaste of wisdom, used as in a spirtual duel,
with a passle of powerful fools, unaware
of the rules, anointed, by truth, dare
prove all things, challenge
the persuader, offer bitter herbs with salt.
Salivate conditioned reflex,
some day all your enemies
feel your own self made up form of love,
and that loving burns their evil minds,
to useful illuminosity, before
catch, grip. holf if, see
ante-cipitates, make each look up,
pledge the believers every day,
good
to go,
so in time, as stages pass,
one knows, this is what my hand
has found to do.

In your service dear reader, thus far,
in our momentary now reality,
between our shared unreal pasts,
in the bubble of we, the people of earth,
attempting to buy the world a coke,
since a certain series of orange acid
during February and March, 1970-
- Chicago. Kesey and Wolfe
- fine weather, for a few days in March

ping vid mind adapts, yes, we re
member seeing something so close
to that exact day at that exact spot,
and the weather
was way worse.

but then I he(a)rd the songs of Mao,
being mys-tried, re sung once more as if
each line was free of debt to Lao Tze
no wei, no secret sacrosanction.
dedeMao, now.
b'n ice geeye ai ai - feel the power
lust right, the drill
will to…
w8
Impulse to cut and run, see a message,
make it stick to the bumper of your cat. Cat.
Tell the world what you are
catalogical,
sorted by did you not wish you knew
rearview, how much of that
do you know,
do you know once, we remember

I did, feel a signal, listen,
think I speak mammoth, listen

in fact, we all did, at the time,
we project that as impossible to prove\
reproof of construe-ition is the way of life
instruction in right use, upgrade scales
praxis co-knowing our each selfish in a
we as a wedom, awesome
by the way life lingers
on topological math,
see,
below the actual band width
of light, white
in the middle see the bones
of the bits, those are from stars,
photons ping touch /percepticons
see-ing
opposition in the future, met today,
hey hey hey
tell me what I say,
that ain't no way to pray,
I done said to each, ever lasting
misconcieved grand spirit of a movement
when the guts of goodnessakesknowswhat
is clogged in curses,
generational debt,
the ruler mind set,
to rob the rich, I was led,
daily I watched the Adventures
of Robin Hood, while I only saw Dragnet
once each week,
ethics of each occur in all boomers, as a wedom,
the first generation born after 1945,
sorted by standardized Dewey measures
of progress. toward becoming
community minded boys and girls,
destined to bring tomorrow by conforming
to the systematized sorting, grading on math
and language arts, then history and science,
then juris prudence for civilians, duty,
- team player drills daily, 40 minutes,
- extracurricular activity choices, weighed

current deception opens green receptors
for signals
to me sent, presently as a gift,
from the queen
of the south.

We assume the idea of gifts, tributes
to k'ki'kn'no'ings, legendary models,
magi conquerors who kept the roads free
of theives and babblers
of goodness only, used as sacramental
kindness made sacred,
bidding you have a mighty fine day.

- is that the Power Farm?
- Circa 1989, HyperCard, crazy easy coding.
- But not so easy as now, finally, harmony,
- knowledge was never what divided
- truth from multitudes of witnesses,
- globally aware more mass shooting than days
- to share with former saints in 2023, so far…
All ye
Religious spirits, little impulsive crossing, muttering
thankyou to the unknown god, higher power, el ultimo.

You know, Wisdom herself, given her due, trueee baby,
too true, knowledge is power, wisdom is might,
stand up, right, perpindicular to the true balance,
prepared, made ready to use thoughts abound,
and turn you around
on a low pressure gyre, rolling up Tornado Alley,
as you imagine it all connects.

It's that hard rain, the poets called,
a seeing from the old'ns,
son, ya got a good eye,

never hesitate to wink, and think, I can see,
should I ever need to give up an eye
for my life's comfortable ends, in mind, my
days of rest --ha, these, after a spectacular

reexamination of metaphors filled with crud,
as seen in plastic sacks of potatoes,
left to sprout and rot, in the dark,
not the slightest snakey lick
of seeing with infra-red, in your head, augmental
conjoining
click… serious speed of recognition instant
cognosis,
we both know, like in a Romcom, how- to movie,
shaping mindsets to put on while in rut.

Historically Christian Nationalist Roots, Cowboy way,
circa the informational slots we slipped by, ran away,

one bought a carnival, one bought charisma seeking,
one bought a vision
through the future to right now. Eh.

How oft must one reset such knowns as nouns,
and names of action words, love, fear, hate, lie, die

Did your mindset bid you challenge

Since 2016, I have my word, I swore, with fervor,
once more eternal hostility
to any form
of tyranny {outside-will control} ever imposed
upon the mind
of mankind, wombed or un, however we be
physically, there is none of that in Christ,
believe your rules of rights use.
Examine the faith that being apes,
who could signal names of things, Adamkind,
pre functional womb model.

He could name things, he could not make babies.
Adamkind, warrior breeds from olden days,
such as fight to entertain the mob in waiting,
fans for flames, founders kenning use
of passionate inflamation to provoke
good works, in the mind of the mob,

vicarious sons of deceiving reasons, come
to call my use of faith proves nothing real.

There are made men using God's name, in vain,
eh, it never works, but it is their religious duty
to think kingly, eh,
too ghuckingoodforoneself, we, Trumpians.
We believe,
we never imagine a war we can't make.

Or a set of actual conspiratorial winds,
with names, familiar spirits, returning winds,
infested with Saharan dust, where once were lush
gardens, back when Greenland was green,
or, so I heard/

Bham harumpharump feel the answer,
pick up the combover, so cool, no care, unaware,

- exposed to the expert in this warfare,
- symbolic marvelous armour,
- for pulling down strongholds, castles,
- silicon solid state preservation cast away
- war in the spirit with historical daemons,
- meeting the neo-Manicheans, word for word…
Ai ai, sir, yessir.
We won a mindtimespace precedent mind state writ,
with the entire child of Arpanet, my second wit,
ready writer motto,
use knowledge right, criticize your story,
sift solidity through cellular security,
finest flakes of self assurance, shine
on
and on as
knowns evil or good.. only the priest can call
foul or fair, there,
excuse you, lawyer
for the defense that there is no vicarage, no live
embodiment
of the intercessor between,
truth's way through life,
and the common dominion
of a certainty,
Your MOTHER IS
BY GOD, ALL CURSES, SHE's

the reason
for your father's rage, generational curses,
daddy wounds,
mommy deprivation, post partum. chaos

love, assuage
woe, soorry, Jesus. But, as has been widely
reported the business
of religion,
by exposing truth
pays a visible wage, shiny smile,
U joint versify,

if we may,
play in the code of life, past any inkling fear
of death,
ducks
in order, will and testament cleared,
read already, ready
to oppose, I suppose, am I.
Logically a state of mind, at the moment.

I callt the efficacy of faith
to call all the outs in.

So we see them on TV, they everywhere,
other people,
OH GOD, why must there be
other people,
oh, my, we may agree,
this answers that,
reasoning, by active faith,
usualized, made common sense.
Why would any sane lover of truth god,
create a forever for enemies of lies?
Belief in spirits opposing truth,
metaphors abound, Kriegspiel on coke,
the real thing, viewers imagine,
watching all the nobles
become naked, and as ugly as any among us.
We see the chins and hairlines in horses,
yet neglect to notice, mustang
herd management, as traits
adjust to new standards,
wild life reset to order.
We realize the riddle,
is the reason, we feel foolish and know it,
U knew, not me, forethought,
morphically resonating
peace, as on a gong
gone
normative,
adjustment bureau wise
sinner's bound in a doctrine
- cut to the gist, there is no sting in death.
- and teaching children to fear death is abuse
- of right authority granted parents
- of loved children, chosen ones, olden days.
Legendary warrior mind, allowed, only if
initiation allows exposure

the daysman lack-
no, look crosswise,'
stripes, whistle, dude
-see, there, the excuse, Job ttalked back.
And Yah, he say, you know, you got that right.
Heysus hisself, look at me he say, I'll go,

become the logical conclusion,
to a story where there was a flaw,
and time threatened to run out, but
the hero, ready to become the tool
to answer a malignant liar with his religion.
Job said to Yah,
you do not know how it feels to put on
a carnal  mind, set by God in Atom's right
to be first
to say this is that…
and one thing leads to another
- you feel the power without knowing
Mysteriously, you,
suddenly seem shy, thinking
how can I say what this is,
you have no right
to say a name Adam did not
say first, we say ****, you say poo,
******* artistic instinkty ways to say, not what
goes in,
corrupts, but what comes out sure can,
that's
gnosishit trustatistical fact according
to science
scent, pre
yours it stinks to, Jesus said.
Brush y'teeth, with Pepsodent to night, be
brite
- visible
knowledge is all good see, so we say we say
good riddle. fit for a king
prone to seek an interpreter of signs and sigils.

A trained cadre of bright boys, as runners,
or senders,
senders using drum and fife, to lead,
trumpet to send, and banners,
to rally round on our side,
whose sigil is that? Do we aid or raid
the edges, scavenge strategy
from the dead.
Live to tell, as I the lone survivor,
I who slew the king at his request, please
believe me
I never steer you to wrong.

Letters flow qwerty wise,
let it happen in the fingers fit to the task,

take a little walk, listen
to a story, sit a while and wish the
enemy were here to enjoy the ease,
beyond the bliss of ignoring,
past the weight worth standing under,
to the home imagined right in time
to finish in December, 2021, one thing
done.

Search any phrase of life, and find answers
to unasked questions, regard-iding lying done
id est as when it is, totally Scriptural moral- wise
right in such a time as once

when some liars who held fast to prophesy
hired the guy who rode the wild ***,
which cognosisadictattenti sorts say
the darnedest things, strecht
stitch in time
Art of Linking Letters, Art Linkletter,
as regular a lunchtime mind flush with a chuckle
and nod at the secrets children can
claim to publicly believe, but ….

the link was to the stay-at-home mom,
not her peer's latch-key kids in allegiance prep,
who get home each day,
for a solo home run heads up on,

who did what on the news, since last night.
Wait, when did Kid Parrett buy the farm,
for more lasting fame than many
in the game, of vicarious triggerers of revenge
reaction, action ready
wha, wham
I a,am sh…za'am is a real rebbiwort, glaubtgut
Jesus
do u read Seuss, still, a quest, mark, take,
leave, ask best bet, take
chance…
look away. Beulah land,
then Beulah see, wise black nanny guide from non-
nodded off, witty, pretty sweety Mary
poppin' clap off pop
stand and deliver, let it be
sistarepistol packin' mama, whoa
Sister,
I did not think to ask, have you been this far? Before?

Cuz because the love of parents
should not would not will not lie
nor must not be not ever denied

Be respectful and confide, fearless with truth;
since love itself is mostly
if not only always right
Cuz because our hearts are wise
(Remember be good in kind...)

So then guardians will and trust
and must keep an eye,
though their words are of instruction,
with logic and reason - what if and why,
assist in the up lifting of our futures' minds

Yet remain the reminders of follies before
and guide with guiltless light

Look 'em in the eyes!

Cuz because Love don't lie,
it's alright
let them wander beyond the shore
have 'em ready at the door
say "I love you"
all the while
living anew your wan of life

Keeping in touch
still keeping an eye
cuz because it's never too much
loving wise parents
are allowed to gush...

and to the mindful ascendants
the children we adore
it would be kind to do your darnedest
make us proud
stay true and warmest with every smile
often visit with laughter loud,
And sit and talk for awhile...

Cuz because
our circle is / of Life
wraps itself back around
yes, would be wise to love 'em Now...

Cuz just because.

i see through the gap in my teeth
and smile out of the side of my eyes
because when we were supposed to be right
we weren't
and when we were right
we still weren't

i've got eyes in the back of my head
but don't worry
they're blind

just like my mouth doesn't listen
but my ears say the darnedest things

just like
when our minds
weren't right

young folk

I walked through a park and found a swing;
Thought of the joy it could bring,
I swung and swung;
Until the cold air in my lungs stung,
I wanted to swing all my worries away;
I was a little kid again gone out to play,
But my worries were not the simplest thing;
I swung until I felt the tears in my eyes sting,
All my dreams seemed to sit there;
What would it be like not to care,
Yet swing after swing I was still not free;
Trapped and stuck is this all I am to be?
I kept swinging back and forth;
Thought of what all this was worth,
And then I thought of the darnedest thing;
As I sat on that swing,
I could always come back tomorrow;
And swing away my sorrow,
A few minutes on this swing;
What joy it will bring...
© okpoet

Cuz because the love of parents
should not would not will not lie
nor must not be not ever denied

Be respectful and confide, fearless with truth;
since love itself is mostly
if not only always right
Cuz because our hearts are wise
(Remember be good in kind...)

So then guardians will and trust
and must keep an eye,
though their words are of instruction,
with logic and reason - what if and why,
assist in the up lifting of our futures' minds

Yet remain the reminders of follies before
and guide with guiltless light

Look 'em in the eyes!

Cuz because Love don't lie,
it's alright
let them wander beyond the shore
have 'em ready at the door
say "I love you"
all the while
living anew your wan of life

Keeping in touch
still keeping an eye
cuz because it's never too much
loving wise parents
are allowed to gush...

and to the mindful ascendants
the children we adore
it would be kind to do your darnedest
make us proud
stay true and warmest with every smile
often visit with laughter loud,
And sit and talk for awhile...

Cuz because
our circle is / of Life
wraps itself back around
yes, would be wise to love 'em Now...

Cuz just because.

When I was walking
I tripped over the darnedest
Thing
A pile of daisies growing
In the side walk
**** near broke my
Pretty little neck.

You waste away your day you say
And I will tell you "it's okay"
It's okay to be lazy
(If it doesn't drive you crazy)
Do something that makes you proud
If that means to shrug off the shroud
Then give that shroud a good'n tug
Go outside and unplug
Know that the initial leap is the hardest
Take that chance, try your darnedest
And soon you may come to find
Though we try to occupy the mind
That waste away we all must do
How it happens is up to you
Even the sky at times is blue.

Petersen House, Washington, D.C.

I admit to own a passion
for the Civil War in general,
and the life and death of
the sixteenth president in particular
between a hard spot of whiskey
and draughts of arrack;
nonetheless (without doubt), this Yankee
would be fain to travel back
to Antebellum America
amidst the urban din and clack

where smelting earsplitting,
choking industrialization
a deaf fin hit drawback,
and where dark shadows cast an eternal
edge of night twilight zone pallor
tubby somewhat exact
from mighty robber barons,
who tolerated no flack
(nope not even Roberta)
despite the bleeding nose against grindstone
inhumanity bearing down hard
with very little giveback
viz zit head as greenback

yes...no matter the noxious
crash course urbanization
(and attendant ghettoization)
breeding a lung wrenching tuberculosis hack,
this twenty first century middle aged
married man (an average Monterey Jack
***), whose sought after
claim to fame penchant
modestly admits to **** knack

crafting literary concoctions with no lack
of ideas, where one arose
strong as an oncoming mack
truck (this vibrant fascination
with the American Civil War
(even before Ken Burns popularized
calamitous event) in non black
and white (digitally remastered technicolor)
exemplified, enumerated, and emphasized
how a minor dispute got way off,track
whereat stately commander in chief did pack
a punch analogous sans, barreling forth
like unstoppable quarterback
despite his six foot four inch
gangly physique cull rack
tried his darnedest,
(or substitute unprintable epithet)
yet a coterie of anti war subjects
figuratively and literally up in arms

wanted nothing less to sack
the sixteenth president,
whose aged fifty seven year old countenance
one month after
Ides of March death didst dance
during the low key celebration sans,
internecine bloodbath Grants'
and Lees' armistice
one hundred and fifty seven years ago;

the peace treaty signed
(April 9th, 1865) at Appomattox,
an irrevocable agony did blow
when that fateful, mournful,
somber night at Ford's Theater
the grim reaper didst appear
(like Jim) crow king
ably linkedin with Reconstruction
after one shot rang out blasting,
where crimson tide didst flow
drowning American history
at that juncture grow

wing no less painless today, which hoo
veer ring agony didst smite
incomprehensible cleft mow
wing down unfinished ambition, which no
one other than Abraham Lincoln could sow
the racial rift, that slavery trucked in tow
generations shackled with compounded woe

that fateful April 15, 1865
at approximately 10:20 p.m
one hundred plus fifty seven years; it's been
long since deceased taking deadly
gunshot punctuated deadly din,
whence fifteen plus decades passed sans
conspirator tried to get even
at Ford’s theater – forever
eviscerating thin lipped grin
of the sixteenth president - still
his unrealized promising dreams with in

Reconstruction paradigm presses
historians to speculate what kin
ship his unrealized post-bellum blueprint
while he sat in his booth,
attended a performance of the comedy
Our American Cousin that night
when a bullet entered below
the president's left ear,
bored diagonally through his brain
and stopped behind his right …

wrought him slumped over,
now tis 7 score + 17 years witnessed
assassination of Abraham Lincoln
team of rivals mastermind, re: the
American Civil War wreck con struck shin
yet…his positive affects find him
honored with outsize depictions and a con tin
hue wing legacy sustained, whereby
hearts and minds he posthumously did win.

Said enigmatic man shrouded and idolized
with beatific, democratic essence
fantastic, honorific, pacific aura, dogma,
and persona with meager off fence
to generations of United States citizens –
enthralled ladies and gents
whose reverberations and ramifications

of humane karma lives on – hence
begotten progeny enjoying freedoms
perchance ensconced with rapt innocence
or those inured with sensibility and sense
can bequeath pride without prejudice
whether living in splendour or in tents
toward Illinois railroad log splitter,
whose humble roots forged steely covenants.

The air is made of muted colours
That vibrate with the delicate hum of light
And I’ll try my darnedest
Catching these fireflies in my palms
But they just slip like slow falling sand

And you snap your fingers
And the world turns off
And I’m back again grasping at straws
And shredded scripts
As I drag my lagging mind
Desperate to catch up to the play

But the actors heed not my calls
Of forgiveness and aid
And once again I stare at dust motes
Singing in the spotlight rain

I adopt dainty etiquette
when quenching thirst or dining
to buzzfeed growling beast
inside me tummy.

The missus requests obedience
raising both my little fingers in the air
upon taking beverage or repast to lips.

Additionally, she also requires I
(well healed husband who toes the line)
perform dance shuffle - think clog
feigning to trip over feet
as if yours truly quaffed to much grog
while balancing atop log.

Miss iz manners re: lee the spouse
sets prime example being lady like,
what with her belching and snorting
of course with mouthful of food
no surprise she nurtured impolite brood
raised on learning language crude

even this Geico caveman exhibits
less coarse attitude,
he likens himself to subdued dude
trying his darnedest (golly gee)
to avoid family feud

general behavior hashtagged as rude
linkedin with antics qualified as lewd
encouraged nsync while
slurping or masticating in the ****,
whereby other body sounds made
unsuitable for strait laced and *****

folks who don't take a fancy hearing
so called uncouth soundclouds exude
out body orifices considered foul,
inapropos and extremely lewd
when unless quarantined in solitude.

One upside of COVID-19
postprandial aural emanations
(all time favorite flatulence)
knows no outward bounds
unless colorectal explosions
register highest magnitude

when measured in concert
with handy dandy
blues clues rattle seismometer
and register courtesy
Richter Scale and the Mercalli Scale
direction and intensity of earthquakes.

Upon experiencing aforementioned prime mate
i.e. the bellowing gal offering herself as ahem
(pardon the double entendre) master bait,
I knew from the get go
Tex-Mex Connection

in North Wales, Pennsylvania
where we shared our first date
(outsize bean burritos)
I tooted my own horn,
she unwittingly got me into checkmate,
just for that her fate got sealed,

when our respective gametes
(ova and ***** cells respectively)
new life we did miraculously create
the first of two female offspring
would become housed in utero
and come to resemble

a spheroid somewhat oblate
even now unnamed counterpart,
(and partner in crime) still swell person
hook hood benefit to lose some weight,
cuz... well adipose freight
quite ample around equator.

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.

A poet (quite familiar with yours truly)
sat at his computer
trying his darnedest to craft a rhyme
imagining when both parents
of mine lived during their prime,
when me creative father acted out mime
though an amateur
his visible talent throwback
when Vaudevillian actors/actresses
(during silent film era),
whereby the spectators
(filling up an entire auditorium)
could hear kerplunk of a dime
versus the bajillion dollar contracts
showcasing stories about
punishment and crime.

Comeuppance eventually served
as just desserts
for those who
cunningly, knowingly, willingly...
commit a knowing wrong
criminal minded on the loose
hustling thru throng
courtesy butterfly effect
rifling back thru time
amid dynastic rule
during reign re: Qianlong.

Millennia ago - indigenous roam ming
contra bands that barely left their so called
"foot print," although live back thousand
of years ago rather brutish, nasty and short
(according to Thomas Hobbes - a British
political philosopher during enlightenment),
they cobbled flint stones in tandem with
crude implements to fell animals, which
fauna felled with purposefulness.

Now or ever since dawn of modern civilization,
we as collective human race appear to be on
war path of extinction, yet weapons of mass
destruction (seeping into popular culture)
pitch future of life on the brink of self-
annihilation, a reassuring thought to help
this bloke retire his weary bones and attempt
to become comfortably numb while dreaming
his forebears (no lion), tigers in the woods and
other creatures lumbering across terra
firmae without threat of extinction.

Progression of intellectual powers gave rise to
greater disparity between means to perform
beneficial versus destructive acts subsequently
fostering my morbid fascination with military
warfare from advent when simians stood *****
and could peer into distant horizon as like they
looked ahead when major lurches forward
allowed means to wipe out greater masses
of people with more precision.

Thus, a homage to those whose blood, sweat
and tears unwittingly delivered hair e beastie
boys into Daytona 500 speed demons (while
Barenaked ladies such as Madonna, Katy Perry,
and Taylor Swift showed indigo girl lush *******)
raced across finish line, while somewhere else
in time, the genesis of beatle browed kink e
dumpster diving dudes in dreadlocks for Snoop
Doggy Dog, Iced T, and Alice in Chains never
surpassing classical Greek drama longevity.

Lift the bricks
Things must be set right
Incompatible orthos
And they bite
Bite and bite
Their duty
Their hardest
Their darnedest
Paid no heed
i complete the resetting
The pain we each feel would scour millions of them
They cannot grasp the true pain
of making oneself the monster

Maturity

What was one thinking then?
What was one thinking when
One did the darnedest things
Ringing of naivité.
Or did not do things of substance;
Choices based on ignorance
And make-up’s many-sidedness.

Looking back today
They seemed so brainless,
Some foolhardy, irresponsible and thoughtless.
“How could I?”  And why, you sigh -
Tear-filled eyes the only prize.

Sizing up with clearer powers,
Time has passed, transgressions paid.
New sown flowers replaced errors.
Karma’s laws have laid the end
With just results: some good, some pained.

That’s what growth is all about -
With rings on trees the perfect symbol;
Narrow, wide, but growing still;
Even now (the adjective)
In silence and tranquility (the noun)

The coming of maturity,
The blossoming sagacity.
One hopes and prays
It comes and stays
Through lasting days
           of wine and roses.

Maturity 11.1.2020 Circling Round Ageing; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin