I live for pleasure
And it bores me.
Out of measure,
I live deplorably.
In all frankness,
I always tell lies.
Reality is a mess
I lately despise.
Why not let go?
Why not fritter away?
Because I may never grow
Lest I see the end of the day.

Its nefarious arrogance, that's scaring grandparents, but its in the air and I'm airing it, as we are seeing all the signs, but just staring at them.

Somehow there is safety as an arian, where we are safely alien to  Americans made in sapient sanitariums, shooting you first for glaring at em.

So what if i'm Dolling up my delirium for a serum to cure them all.

I am awol, from my call to duty, recreating movies, for serial groupies, suiting up to slither a delivery of a soothing sour piece.

I am stalling to clean the secretions from hostel sheets from the screamers being eaten, by Cretans, with beaten dogs at bay, staring blank at the fanfare from a cage.

Im burning white sage, under pages of poetry anointed by a stoical spleen, tuning out the dreams, of lesser beings, until complete.

A zoo within a zoo within a zoo, i barely know you now

Barely know how, to know you as a model citizen with baller trimmins, fixins, and a life with others wives, in the rough diamonds of the bluff, before the door opens just enough, to look through and confirm what you already knew.

Love is the stuff dreams are made of.

And through you..

Im through.

Pleading, to seed the need for repentance and with reduced sentences, bleeding the demands on stances of chance, in costly cants.

I am convulsing in the congruence, in which I am influenced, by my afflictions of depictions in my head

I might be addicted to the dread of previously said decor, in my adorable horror show afloat, deplorably denoting the nopes of logic, and the slippery slopes of khangi, that spring off me when i'm coughing on my green tea.

You are wrong to stop me in my dislogic, dodging the narcotic mocking of toxic strong arming, in proxy alarms, setting barns ablaze.

I praise the poetry pushed on me, dauntingly haunting me with savant like ambiance, from the have nots, having things as far as the eyes can see.

Since the election
Beloved
I've been deplorably depressed
my heart has lept into
a starless river of tears
and is swept away

I've seen you passing through my
dreams, Swami
a shadow robed in raven black

Dearest Lord
Your Name is still alive on
my lips
although I clutch a rosary
of onyx pearls

And Pray..... Thy Will Be Done

When will Your bride
adorned in summer jasmine
blush the golden pink cattleya orchid
hues of dawn

And dance with You, oblivious
across Heaven's sapphire
august dome

He wrote upon the walls, in the abandoned halls, of his misfitting ways.

Wayward were his days, of poetry, motioned in the passionate oceans, in which he played, the songs of his state in grace.

Alone and zoned for a beautiful place, in candle lit eloquence he commenced, in subtle hints, of tomorrow.

Deplorably adorable, he swallowed the sorrow, of the pity of a horrible city of broken wit.

Smoking from his eyes, he politely denied, the open spaces and spotlights, in the flickering pieces of his soul thesis, scrawled in black felt, from a disharmonious whelp of feel bads.

Misguided and still glided onto the path, with his hand out, he shouts aloud,  lashing out, to pull the weak in, to see the sun again, as it shone through the broken window upon his heart, departing from him, the dark that killed him.

Inhospitable landscapes
And ****** canapés,
Give into grief
And metallic decay:
Your mind in situ.
Moral compasses compounded.

Green grows grey
Far swifter than you think.
In the blink of an eye
We'll see different skies.
A pale blue bloom
Will soon become doom and gloom,
And marigolds macabre,
Perfume of tulip and
Netherworlds of hubris,
Will consume the gold
And the grey.

Except
We're not there yet.
Giacommetti, Picasso and Muller foresaw:
We're all going to be ignored.

Ultimately.

A single state engrained into lore:
Deplorably thick custard creams
With a side of sea bream,
Quarter-loaf multi-seed bread
And half a shilling in the shed.

Unimaginable-
Immemorial.

Pass the headstone,
Don the frown.
The bright brown obelisk of fate
Awaits you now.

Turn left, you go far;  turn
right, you don’t. Yet,
deplorably, not knowing, and
qualms and fears, and reasons
known and unknown, and
causes known and unknown:
life, so full of choices,
becomes random and choice-less.

The breeze blows, leaf flees
from fruit, falls on flowing
river, and finds its way
forward.

Life, so simple;
or possibly not.

Medicine would bar
Her inside where
She could die unto me
While her bra that was too loose
Only craft her final wish of me
That our writ merely circle of platitude
While shame deplorably bout sin
And our rampant leader ran amuck.

While he isn't grandiose thinking
Only to solve problems
Heretofore unrecognizable
Please don her leader
Today whom is not yet there
A bill always trump card.

I’m smiling fictitiously, feigning functionality, I battle growing apathy, due to your incessant irrationality. Spewing hate filled bigotry, by angrily insulting me is no longer satisfactory, i've been growing rather weary of your paltry ****** misery. You act like you’re a victim, when you’re actually vindictive, yet everyone still beckons, to your pretentious petty whims.
Your consistent conniptions are causing great friction, you’re a deplorably toxic affliction that your friends have to endure. You don’t seek a cure, ignore the people who care, and never mature, but sure. We are what’s wrong.
Affecting everyone around you with your irritating ignorance, not noticing the damage that you make your friends experience. By acting solely on your selfishness, you’re becoming quite a hindrance.
Replace this self-annihilation with rehabilitation. You’re always seeking affirmation but go about it the wrong way, keep up this desolation and then no one’s going to stay for you. Because with enough persistent pressure, the strongest rock will become weathered, the bonds you’ve made will start to sever, you’re going to lose your friends forever.

Darkness slays the sun. Descending, he dies.
To hide his glowing countenance and wait;
Until his resurrection flood our skies
With promise of a greater solar state.

Oh mourn and weep, ye gaining shades of night;
An orange sunset lingers in the west.
The trumpet sobs a reveille; the light
Is dwindling on the presidential fest.
And cypresses are sighing in their shame
For Orange Man has forfeited his game.

The technocrats and leftists, as a mass
Opposed his righteous reign with godless spite.
Not once did they relent, but dogged his ***
In jackal-packs still slavering to bite.
And yet he is deplorably adored,
Nor friend nor foe politically bored.

Vile virtue-signalers (with none to show),
Despised all those who dared support his plan;
And prideful with each whining coward blow
Confirmed themselves inferiors to the man.
Pink feminists, at odds with all that's right
Displayed themselves as ******* in the fight.

They could not stand the mention of his name.
The Globalists and other Euro-trash,
With Luciferian bankers, void of shame,
Resume their one-world plotting in a flash;
Preparing for re-set. (We wish they would
Let God reset them for their own **** good.)

So DRUMPF's Fourth ***** must sadly reach its end,
And Jared's **** wife return her shoes.
His Völkisch warriors shall no more defend
Republics that weak RINOs all refuse;
And Milquetoast Mitt, and Bush, his parting hail
Grown tired of winning, longing yet to fail.

My Einsatzgruppen uniform: no more
To wear the holy garment in my pride.
My shimmering hood and robe I now must store;
Well-pressed, I lay them tearfully aside.
My lynching rope I coil with loving care,
My Ku-Klux armband nevermore to wear.

Alas, the fascist father-figure goes;
His bigot minions, all my own, lament.
Misogynists and racists at the close
Have lost their weary way and all is spent.
He wasn't dictatorial enough;
We all grew tired of winning. It was tough.

But wait; a zephyr stirs the orange grove.
The dusk has not yet sighed its final breath:
Once more a scent of citrus wafts above . . .
Twas' premature, their festival of death.
Then TRUMP arises, grinning, from the bier
And all who wished him gone recoil in fear.

Fresh horror now the adversaries sweeps;
The trembling crypts foreshadow his rebirth.
Progressive politics despairs and weeps
While liberal dread supplants their vengeful mirth.
Then Donald rises, leering like a ghost
To fill with panic every heartless host.

Mere hopium, this horror-movie plot.
It looked like he might pull it off— but no.
Now darkness teaches light what it is not
And half the nation jeers at him to go.
Healing urged—but fake. Polarization
Shall characterize our waning nation.

Hopes of resurrection vanish with night. 
The scapegoat's legions waken from the dream
To seek nocturnal solace from the fight:
The tepid normie water's middle stream.
And Q-**** numerologists learn code.
(The rest of us just wonder what we're owed.)

Saint Orange must diminish, half-impeached;
And sunset velvet now becomes his hue.
The ballot urns of Georgia never reached;
Our judges sat to stifle what we knew.
The monoparty's monkeys steal the show;
His puppet masters hiss him. Let him go.

Now Dixie's juiceless orchards sing his dirge.
The willows hang their boughs in leafless grief . . .
Disgust for all the traitors starts to surge;
And clown-world tries but cannot bring relief.
Orange Savior's promise: undelivered;
The funeral expires—and all is withered.

supposedly
the competition
of the world's best soccer teams

has become
        very deplorably
a plaything of global politics

bad carma

The latter classified as a voivode
(prince) of Wallachia
(part of modern Romania).
Surrounded by enemies
that included the Hungarians,
the Ottomans, his younger brother,
and Walachian nobility,
Vlad employed extremely
cruel gruesome measures
to inspire fear in those
who opposed him.

He earned his nickname
by impaling his enemies on stakes.

No argument Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin
equals and invariably
will outrank Vlad the Impaler
the second son of Vlad Dracul
who became ruler of Wallachia in 1436.

Impossible mission to comprehend
propensity exhibiting characteristics
linkedin as impish, hellish, ghoulish... fiend
whereby pathological pretensions
besotted (punch drunk with delight)
to incinerate, eradicate, annihilate,
essentially to deplorably,
heinously, loathingly... interblend

all manner of atrocious, deleterious,
insidious, opprobrious, vicious... lend
ding his own vainglorious
trademark to offend
**** sapiens who strive toward
repairing ruptures versus to rend
usurpation of life, liberty
and continuity of civilization to upend.

Worst nightmare scenario
unfolding before our collective eyes
Ukraine suffers blitzkrieg
Russian soldiers devastatingly
carpet bomb major metropolitan areas
civilian population suffers
major loss of innocent lives
linkedin with accompanied
psychological fallout, especially affecting
babies, children and youth.

All commands issued by autocratic monster
probably housed within secure bunker,
meanwhile countless thousands
or millions of battle fatigued people hunker
among ruins gingerly negotiating
their way thru rubble analogous to spelunker.

Though yours truly
removed (think physically),
where chaos and pandemonium
run amuck and terror unruly,
overt rampant upheaval
plagues long established
generations of Slavic peoples,
this commonplace American
vicariously experiences grief

when tragedy viewed
online and/or television
heart wrenching images
also evoke anger being
linkedin to most abominable,
horrible, reprehensible, creatures
that roamed the terrestrial firma
since time immemorial.

Major war crimes against humanity
necessitate urgent punishment,
if in fact such a global entity
exists to condemn and convict
the uncontestable tyrant,
yet never in the annals
of twenty first century
geopolitical webbed zeitgeist
did self anointed totalitarian sovereign
access nuclear weapons
to obliterate great swaths
of fellow Earthlings.

My calves, ignorant of the danger they are in,
suffocate so slowly between the sheets that
it hardly feels like death, just
a series of monumental increments
where a sweat-drenched euthanasia
seems increasingly attractive.
Morning leaves only a scarlet scintilla
and a faint sense of must
I wake

Yes, deplorably: the sympathetic response
to my sodden rhetoric.
Not wanting to cause offense
to the benevolent creator
who gave me the gift of
firm lumbar support and
memory foam,
I resurrected
leaving nothing behind
but my body,
the imprint of my body,
and the umbilical dream
trailing in clandestine wake:
asleep

When I breached the gates of Eden,
The gardens did not sing; and
The crows were naught
But labouring -

A thousand charcoal teeth
Chewing at the rot, until
All appeared cold
As the Kings of Camelot,

When I breached the gates of Eden,
The fountain had run dry
And the men were on fire
Laid down by its side, and

A great wave of white lilies
Had devoured the landscape
Leaving naught but the words
Of unguarded graves,

When I breached the gates of Eden,
The mothers pleaded for a song;
“Will you sing, will you sing”,
They begged for me, all night long,

But I do not know how to silence
The howling of the bereaved
For the gates of Eden
Had been deplorably besieged.

No don (except me)
doth trumpet within the aborted
barren reach of freedoms within expansive realm,
I annexed courtesy manifest destiny,
which peoples now inhabiting said jurisdiction
circumscribed by following coordinates -
Latitude: 40° 16' 22.20" N
Longitude: -75° 29' 29.39" W
and for better or worse

must abide by decrees
promulgation declared today May 21st, 2024,
whence Poet of Perkiomen Valley
issues proclamation,
regarding any living person
paying blind obedience
lest posse comitatus act enforced
otherwise Herr Harris
will bring to fore active duty personnel

to "execute the laws";
however, there be disagreement
over whether this language
may apply to troops used
in an advisory, support, disaster response,
or other homeland defense role,
as opposed to domestic law enforcement
to challenge aforesaid claims
which forthwith ownership of said territory

foremost allows, enables and provides
yours truly to enact legislation,
and especially restitution of comstock act
predicated upon due diligence
guaranteeing appropriation
of all and every rights affecting
master and slave
linkedin with said domain.

Welcome to the dictatorship
(er rather presidency)
of Putin diehard adherent.

Matter of fact, a favorite author of mine
crafted the following words of inspiration,
which evocation will help shed figurative light
on caricatures of terror reign as forty fifth president
targeted by political cartoonists,
but struggled to come up with an image that sticks.

In october 2016, Vanity Fair
made a video of four of its cartoonists—
Edward Sorel, Steve Brodner,
Philip Burke, and Robert Risko—
drawing Donald Trump.

They clearly enjoyed themselves,
exploring every aspect of his physique:
 his “girth,” the fact that
“there’s so much of him” (Burke);
the hair that “essentially closely a beret
flipped forward on his head” (Risko);
the eyes that show “greed, disdain” (Burke);
the “marvelously rat like” nose (Brodner);
the mouth a “sphincter muscle” (Risko);
the “******” look (Sorel);
the ****** features that resemble
“**** holes in the snow” (Brodner).

And now? How have artists and cartoonists
dealt with Trump since he became president?
We’ve seen cartoons of the orange
potus smooching Vladimir Putin
and groping the Statue of Liberty.
We’ve seen him drawn (by Barry Blitt
in The New Yorker) as a fat-assed golfer
driving ***** into the White House.
We’ve seen him caricatured (by Pat Oliphant

for The Nib) as a preening SS officer
being heiled by Steve Bannon.
We’ve seen him portrayed
(by Signe Wilkinson of the Philadelphia
Daily News) linking arms
with a Confederate and a ****.
We’ve seen him depicted
(by Mike Luckovich
of The Atlanta Journal-Constitution)

as Jabba the Hutt, holding Lady Liberty in chains.
We’ve seen him represented (by Matt Wuerker
in Politico) as a kook in a straitjacket.
We’ve seen him rendered
(by Ann Telnaes of The Washington Post)
as a red-faced fathead sitting
on the toilet while he plots
to pull out of the Paris climate accord.

Putin (also fell prey
to his fair share of cartoonists)
not only as Vlad the Impaler reincarnate
(a notion in mind of at least one writer),
but also various and sundry other manifestations.

The self styled ruthless ****
classified as a voivode
(prince) of Wallachia
(part of modern Romania).

Surrounded by enemies
that included the Hungarians,
the Ottomans, his younger brother,
and Walachian nobility,
Vlad employed extremely
cruel gruesome measures
to inspire fear in those
who opposed him.

He earned his nickname
by impaling his enemies on stakes.

No argument Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin
equals and invariably
will outrank Vlad the Impaler
the second son of Vlad Dracul
who became ruler of Wallachia in 1436.

Impossible mission to comprehend
propensity exhibiting characteristics
linkedin as impish, hellish, ghoulish... fiend
whereby pathological pretensions
besotted (punch drunk with delight)
to incinerate, eradicate, annihilate,
essentially to deplorably,
heinously, loathingly... interblend
all manner of atrocious, deleterious,
insidious, opprobrious, vicious... lend
ding his own vainglorious
trademark to offend
**** sapiens who strive toward
repairing ruptures versus to rend
usurpation of life, liberty
and continuity of civilization to upend.

Worst nightmare scenario
unfolding before our collective eyes
Ukraine suffers blitzkrieg
Russian soldiers devastatingly
carpet bomb major metropolitan areas
civilian population suffers
major loss of innocent lives
linkedin with accompanied
psychological fallout, especially affecting
babies, children and youth.

All commands issued by autocratic monster
probably housed within secure bunker,
meanwhile countless thousands
or millions of battle fatigued people hunker
among ruins gingerly negotiating
their way thru rubble analogous to spelunker.

Though yours truly removed (think physically),
where chaos and pandemonium
run amuck and terror unruly,
overt rampant upheaval plagues
long established generations of Slavic peoples,
this commonplace American
experiences vicarious grief,
when tragedy viewed online
and/or television heart wrenching images
also evoke anger being
linkedin to most abominable, horrible,
reprehensible, creatures
that roamed the terrestrial firm
since time immemorial.

Major war crimes against humanity
necessitate urgent punishment,
if in fact such a global entity exists
to condemn and convict the incontestable tyrant,
yet never in the annals of twenty first century
geopolitical webbed zeitgeist
did self anointed sovereign
access nuclear weapons
to obliterate fellow Earthlings.