When first, descending from the moorlands,
I saw the Stream of Yarrow glide
Along a bare and open valley,
The Ettrick Shepherd was my guide.

When last along its banks I wandered,
Through groves that had begun to shed
Their golden leaves upon the pathways,
My steps the Border-minstrel led.

The mighty Minstrel breathes no longer,
’Mid mouldering ruins low he lies;
And death upon the braes of Yarrow,
Has closed the Shepherd-poet’s eyes:

Nor has the rolling year twice measured,
From sign to sign, its stedfast course,
Since every mortal power of Coleridge
Was frozen at its marvellous source;

The rapt One, of the godlike forehead,
The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth:
And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle,
Has vanished from his lonely hearth.

Like clouds that rake the mountain-summits,
Or waves that own no curbing hand,
How fast has brother followed brother,
From sunshine to the sunless land!

Yet I, whose lids from infant slumber
Were earlier raised, remain to hear
A timid voice, that asks in whispers,
“Who next will drop and disappear?”

Our haughty life is crowned with darkness,
Like London with its own black wreath,
On which with thee, O Crabbe! forth-looking,
I gazed from Hampstead’s breezy heath.

As if but yesterday departed,
Thou too art gone before; but why,
O’er ripe fruit, seasonably gathered,
Should frail survivors heave a sigh?

Mourn rather for that holy Spirit,
Sweet as the spring, as ocean deep;
For Her who, ere her summer faded,
Has sunk into a breathless sleep.

No more of old romantic sorrows,
For slaughtered Youth or love-lorn Maid!
With sharper grief is Yarrow smitten,
And Ettrick mourns with her their Poet dead.

§
Battle of New Britain

Lieutenant Jim G Paulos led elements
of G Company in a savage counterattack
that ousted the intruders supported
by Lieutenant James R Mallon’s improvised
platoon of H/11, which remained
to help man casualty-depleted line.

Improvise (OED):
One: to compose on spur
of the moment; to utter
or perform extempore

two: to bring about or get up
on the spur of the moment;
to provide for the occasion

Three: […] hence to do anything
On the spur of the moment

Improvised platoon
Df James R Mallon:

When most of your platoon
lies dead in the pumice sands
of the South Pacific-Japanese
bushido bullets tear flesh and spirit
out of the corporeal—husks of limp
limbs you fought to defend and they you
Japanese mortar fire, machine and small-gun fire
fifteen yards in advance of the wire
how do you bring about or get up
the courage to grab whoever—
the nearest marine
talk through ears drums burst by mortar succeeding shockwaves
forget for the time the men
you spent months training
sipping beers in Australia
laughing over bar stool drunken jokes
men you shared your dreams about after
away from the mosquitoes
away from the constant moisture
rain rain rain day and night
soaking through fatigues through skin through bone
never enough sun to dry out
air already saturated
sweat or seawater—it is all the same
now you must find new men—men you have seen,
but do not know the same as your own platoon
their life and yours in each others hands
alone in a group of stranger-brothers
always faithful
keep composure in the face
your buddy’s entrails pouring into the pumice sand
hence to do anything
on the spur kicked into your side
to block what no man should ever be asked to see
and do what you can in the moment
to save your division from enemy fire.

§
Cyclops Black Eyes

One summer e’ening drunk to hell
He stood there nearly lifeless
A gal sat in the corner
And it’s how are ye ma’am and what’s yer name
And would ye like a drink?
She looked at him, he at her
All she could do was accept one

And rovin’ a rovin’ a rovin’ she’ll go
Through his pair of blue eyes

She knew not the pumice beaches and streams
Sometimes walking sometime crawling
amongst blood and death ‘neath a screaming sky
Where Cyclops black eyes waited for him
Was it birds whistling in the trees?
Always the Cyclops black eyes waiting for them
So they give the wind a talkin’

And a rovin’ a rovin’ a rovin’ he’ll go
Away from those Cyclops black eyes

And the arms and legs of other men
Were scattered all around
Some cursed, some prayed, some prayed then cursed
Then prayed and bled some more
All he could see were Cyclops black eyes looking at him

No Cyclops black eyes waiting for her
And a rovin’ a rovin’ a rovin’ she’ll go
And never know what saw his pair of blue eyes

Could she forsee in that pair of blue eyes
Decades he’d spend drunk to hell?
Sometimes walking sometime crawling
Rovin’ and rovin’ away from those Cyclops black eyes

§
Colt 1911**

I was nineteen when I learned
my Dad his father’s Colt 1911 pistol

when Dad was young he
and his brother found
the gun—hidden in the rafters
of the cinderblock basement
their father built; magazine bullets and pistol
on one rafter—separate, except
the bullets lived in the magazine

my dad and uncle, like any
young boy, were fascinated
by the pistol; though too young
to feel and know the power
and danger in the cold blue metal

when their father and mother were
away—home alone they snuck
to the hand-laid basement
reached around the rafters
through years of dust and darkness
feeling for the colt and mag
scrape-click-pop—ca-chick
round in the chamber—“freeze!”

so played boyhood fantasies
cowboys & Indians
cops & robbers
with a lethal toy


so my dad kept it a secret
locked in a tarnished steel box
locked through the trigger guard
magazine separate
four silver, dimpled, bullets rolled round between
their queue and releaser

I was struck by the weight—heavier than I expected—I felt the years of use polished into the wood grips—thick hand grease sweat blood humidity sand saltwater gun oil mud tears life saved and taken.
At the bottom of the wood grips ticked notches deep in the grain—both sides—different numbers; “What are these?” I asked running my finger across the nocth-ticks feeling their depths their absence consciously carved with his next best tool—kabar: workhorse that can baton through five inch diameter logs, machete through two-finger branches, dig a hole to burrow while machinegun fire mows down jungle; easy to sharpen, keeps an edge; full tang to hammer temples or tent posts

“I don’t know; the only thing we have is the lore.”

fI counted seven
the number the magazine carries
eight total, if you have one in the chamber

You have to commit to fire
a 1911, the cliché: don’t pull
the trigger—squeeze
is how the 1911 fires—a button
fits the crotch of the thumb and index finger
opposite the trigger on the handle;
to unleash the hammer then
lead, squeeze the two—firm
tight at the target; no shot fired
by accident—no Marvins with the 1911.

The night becomes you -
hair coiffed in fashion
illuminated eyes reveal attraction,
the scent of body oil
pervasive,
ambient music evolves
persuasive
savory rhetoric,
cabernet erodes my inhibition
no contrition, turn the ignition.

The night becomes you -
you wear it well  
an amalgam,
ardor and insouciance -
redefining glamour,
ephemeral moments
dial down the sunlight,
I am slain - voice and accent
weave their spell;
black dust coat, white hat,
a pair of posh boots
they live to tell.

The night becomes you
rhyme scheme -  lyrical poetry
sophisticated venue, table for two
ensconced, the
leather lounge,
similitude within difference;
undulation - cadences of
counterpoint -
poise and peril of duality
we inhabit the floor.
Postprandial, conversation extempore;
machinations of intoxicating discourse,
I could drink your words -
artistic milieu- beguiling imagery,
sonant susurrations
penetrate my being.

The night becomes you -
theoretical locutions
phrasing depth and humor,
undiluted amour, tensions resolve
frame by frame,
solidify the affair
and validate the rumor
subsumed in sequence, pulsating,
igniting the sapid interior flame
silver screen ending,
effusive reviews
two hearts collide and form one;
the cherub's arrow finds its aim.

©2008 & 2011 W.S. Warner

There was one.
A young man,
Smart, confident, eloquent.
Lost.
Popular, the leader of the pack
Yet courage doesn't always roar, and neither did he
Strong whispers echo with thunderous force
He is the humble king;
What he says goes.
But he did not mean it this way,
Did not ask.
Such responsibility is a heavy handed task.
He wanders amongst his squires and compatriots
The omniscient light in a realm of darkness,
Bringer of love, and peace and hope.
But inside of him these emotions have been abducted
By the predatory tenebrosity of his own mind.
An everlasting, ****** battle takes place
But who is to be deemed victor if he is fighting himself?

There was another
A young lady.
Smart, confident, eloquent.
Withdrawn.
Her desperate need to please others saw her relegated to the outskirts of society
Clingy and desperate, when it suited them,
Helpful and irreplaceable another day.
Until she'd had enough
And cast herself away in exile,
From anyone and everyone.
She sought to make herself invisible,
After all, you cannot plunge a sword into the heart of one you cannot see.
This she knew was her blessing and her curse
Her savior and her foe
And just like that she was back to square one
The girl they had pushed and pulled,
Until she was permanently subdued,
A mere ghost of the exuberant being she was before


Then one day
The wandering souls fused in spectacular fashion
His bright beam illuminating the corners to which she had receded
A meeting on extempore, of broken hearts, broken minds.
They looked deep into each others minds,
Their internal recesses open
Showing a continuous film of horrific abuse
Damaged products drawn together
And then

There were two.
A young man and woman,
Whose lives became intertwined like weeds in flower beds
Twisting and wrapping, suffocating and strangling
Choking with a vice like grip
Unable to breathe, having to fill each others lungs
Company was no longer a want, but a need
If they were to survive, it would be together.
This mangled and gnarled love was anything but smooth sailing
But it was worth the struggles and continuous setbacks for those few moments of bliss.
Moments when responsibilities and pain and direction were forgotten
Where being lost was okay, because neither of them knew were they were going
The pain would subside, the revolting stench disguised by the scent of love.
And happiness and hope were tangible.

Still there were two
Yet she knew not what to do
Thoughts raced through her mind in befuddling fashion
Like a horse who hears a gunshot
She panicked.
The distance, her safety blanket was long gone
But she had only just realised her guard was down
White flag waved
That her path took her into the firing range
Where he was behind the gun.
A vow came to mind
A self-promise that she would never hurt again
And if she were,
It would be by noone but her
So
She ran, knowing it would crush the life out of him
A mother leaving her child in the wicker basket
A father saying he would be right back,
And never returning.
She was all these things and more;
Thief or plunderer would be an accurate description.

And then there was
Well, there was not much
For when she left, she took most of him with her
His shell remained seated, waiting patiently for her return
Even after day three thousand, when he had become a brobdignagian mass of dirt, grime and hope.
That's all he had left; hope.
For nothing else but her reappearance.
Life; he had given up long ago.
But he never gave up on their reunion;
on the opportunity, if only briefly to return to the bliss, the joy,
The exhilaration of his eyes locked onto hers,
Both so broken they could only maintain for a few moments.
He never gave up
Until he too, was gone.

And then there were none.

Content, with a tinge of love,
I repent
All I've given up.
Realize what I've surmised
Is a traversed trial of fire.

Higher, higher;
The atmosphere you admire:
Lighter breathing,
Muscles beating,
Entreating my desire.

A pyre,
The phoenix feeling renaissance:
The lover's having ---
Once the want to be satisfied ---
Which was, while shattered, reconciled ---
Compiled a mile-long list
To mist the ever-flowering tree
Of prospect,
Respecting past
Opinion.

Your dominion over my
Ever-subjugating heart
(Pulsating a Morse message)
Belittles meaning in
Stockholm Syndrome,
For I am no
Shackled drone;
And, forever,
This you've known.

We are symbiotic.
We are psychotic.
Celeritous symbols
Sampling this:
Extended metaphor.

Extempore, we entertain and
Adore each other,
The world we are to each.
So: teach me how you look
With beseeching reach
Into deep territory in sleep;
Incept directly
And affect me
Romantically.

Augment what is meant and true.

cigar smoke
In my lungs,
no alcohol in your
System,
we live on
stupid caffeine headaches
and doing bad things
to our bodies.

goodbye became
all too real,
all too soon.

neither of us was ready
To let the other one go,

but you are on a journey
i don’t fully understand,

i just know that
sometimes the flower
has to grow through snow

to become
her blossom.

Not for me
does the sun burn,
not for me
does the earth turn,
not for me
do the waters flow,
not for me
does the moon glow.
not for me
do the birds sing,
not for me
do the birds not sing.
We are not
a family of loved ones,
we are not
companions in hate either,
we are just here now,
may be living till then
may be not.

It’s no beauty nor ugliness,
neither chaos nor finesse.
We’re in a maze,
trying to figure out,
what’s it all about.
Some say accident,
some say miracle,
some say a hole,
some say the pinnacle.

It isn’t a story
but an act extempore,
some act slavish,
some act free.

Until we figure it out,
Let us love each other all out.
Let us hold our warmth
in our embraces,
Soothe me when
my heart races.

Even if I never figure it out,
I’d know what love is about,
You could become my universe,
And I’d soothe myself knowing you,
If I ever could.

I be for you,
You be for me,
Let us love each other all out,
Even if we don’t figure it out.

Let us love each other
So that a few more verses are born
To crawl majestically on the thorn
Of the fear to lose the one you love
To finally get bruised and scattered
Letter by letter
Fetter by fetter,
falling apart and joining the letters of past
which fell like these long time back,
waiting for some more to fall in the future.

Scared you seem,
I wanted you to be,
So you love me
and never leave,
and spare my verses,
my letters.

Promise me you won’t be
like a sun or a moon to me,
I’ve told you my heart,
Don’t tear it apart.
But if you ever do that,
Do it like an art,
Be delicate,
Pierce me with a barbule,
The wound be like a mark,
A mark of my love,
And of your move so dark.

Itchiness burning pain swelling or bleeding in this morning so we wool and that is why this to be with you and that is why I  went home and to give it to my brother Tay to......

Change utilizes time
That's why patience is labelled a virtue
Temporarily sublime
Needed high on a mountain to climb
Temper your temper-
Proceed without caution and growth will prevail
Extempore!

A Joker par excellence, a tour de force
He baited his viewers who hooked on for more
His words shot out with wit endowed
On and on his repertoire grew -
An entertainer, an actor, a humane soul

Weathering the seas and storms crashing in his mind
He bore it all with courage; he was of a tenacious kind
Often, over the years, he felt lonely and soured
Only to rise up from those dreaded chasms to face lifebiz extempore

On that fateful night his blues a blackened fury hued
His youth and the powers he’d borne - a distant memory to be wallowed?
Every night he’d faced these demons forlorn…
But tonight he lost the battle to his mind’s old foe…

…And the man who once tickled the world is now no more

R.I.P Robin Williams

During I was cogitating
I felt something silently booms
A spark bubbles it is, vellicating my desire.
I let down my hands collapse
but, constantly merry scared was I again
by a sparks' silent booming in front of me.
Purple, violet, pink and colour mandarin.
Glimmer, maddling, melting.
A sparks' shy bubbling coy blink
Blue, turquoise and diaphanous white.
«Stop this transcendental dance,
you'll subluxate yourselves», mentioned I.
Soon an exhilarated game overtook the chamber.
«Your tingling tickles me», said I and they scattered thorough in the air.
«You should run fast», uttered I, «for I'm going to pursue you» and bit a rose betwixt my teeth whilst rejoining them, dancing tango with extempore fashion.But having been besides them, they vanished letting me hit with my shoulder the window, looking down my blunder, grimaced contemptuously by their blundish.
«That's the matter: you are immaterial» murmured I whilst removing and throwing the rose behind me without looking back.
Thus, looking down, letting a sigh flew in the air, I laid my hit shoulder to the window and turned left my down-bent neck, letting my hair cover my face.
The sun it was, bathing the chamber, cheated by the black clouds.Its departure's time is coming closer but, early tonight.«How deluxe» murmured I schematizing a grimace of a half smile.The sun didn't see it, for only my unshaved chin was obvious to him.
«Hmmm, the dawn is inexorably amaranthine for those accomplished the impossible» I sighed turning away my indifferent sight.
I was heading immodesty to my comfortable armchair.But the sparks' bubbling, squeezing my three-days unshaven cheecks, plopped me to the sofa, dancing like a ballerina.Dazed by the intensity, I fell in a prone position on the sofa with my legs bending to my back, my eyes covered by my hair and my coat's tail covering the rest of my upper body.
Soon, yellow, green and grey, I fell ill.
«Yyoouuu vvanquishedd me luxuriously» I murmured and closed my eyes.
Having them opened I observed the rose on the floor, being bathed by sun's last beams.
I tried to catch it but, it was farther I optimized.
I looked at the sparks, who were dancing more vividly and playful.
I blew my hair,blinked and looked them again, with my eyes begging artificially whilst they passed it to me, continuing their dance.
«Oh, benevolent you are», I murmured having a contemptuous half smile.I blinked.Then my coat were fixed and my hair parted by them.
A rose, I was deliberating.
«I have to be arose» sighed I a blow against my hair, slightly.
A rose red as blood and gold of fade.
I couldn't get up.The mesmerizing fragrance couldn't be interpreted.
Then, I resume my deliberation, with my body fixed, facing the ceiling, bringing my fingers' distal phalanges together at my lips whilst the spark's bubbles were trying to lull me.
And I closed my eyes.

A spark bubbles, tickling the incessant intensity.
Intensity forever stultified.
We are neither savages, nor can become salvages nor slaved.
But we belong amongst, amidst sparkles shadowy.
Touched like vellicated babies by a bird's song.
«You are ossifying the world, please stop».
«Others melt by feasts, why don't you call them beasts?».
Who then luxuriates the corpus?
Who embellish peace?
Lotus by whom are distributed?
It's a piece of blast threshing what can last.
That neither yield nor bend.
What trending is throwing hope inside a spring's bottom.
Becoming immediately a dried hollow which billows.
Billows spitting dust and gold.
The dawn is inexorably unforgettable for those accomplished the impossible.
Constantly, purple red and pink,
glimmer, maddles, melt.
Neither calamity blooms.
Nor clarity booms.
Are we then, not all abiding.

Oh yes, oh yes,  salams, hello, hi
Aha, oh yeah, oh my, oh my
My favorite dream places happen to be
coincidentally
ones that rhyme with the words
aye, aye, aye and bye, bye, bye
for I wish to fly
to divine Dubai
to showy Shanghai
to beautiful Brunei
and heavenly Hawaii
and last but not least
the land of the Thai

The only odd ones out in this rhyme scheme
of exotic favourite places of my dream
are touristy Turkey and Singapore
ah, I wrote this kinda' extempore.
So if I do go gallivanting
somewhat like Gulliver on his travels
these are the places I'd like to explore.

Ah, it's always great to travel
and geo atlas mysteries unravel
upon God's wide world to marvel

Going places to collect and bring back memories
A collection of curios and cherished souvenirs

As indeed whenever you bring back some exotica
you enhance your knowledge with those ephemera.

So guys I'd love to fly
to travel to Turkey and Thailand
Sojourn in Shanghai
depart for Dubai
holiday in hawaii
Board a flight to Brunei.
One has to try
to get into jetsetting style
act somewhat like the jet set
for frequent flyer mile.

This has been a poetic travelogue
for voyages are ever in vogue.

But whenever I can and if I have luck now
I know I could never tire of journeying
to Aligarh and Lucknow
For motherland India calls me like no other,
a place to hug my origins, beloved dad and mother.

Ah, only if there were no travel formalities
I could be sightseeing many more cities.
Without need of passports, ticket and visa
anyone could've travelled
to watch the Leaning tower of Pisa
or even the egyptian pyramids of Giza.

But for spiritual enlightenment and nourishment the mecca of thronging visitors flocking ,
I wish to frequently visit Mecca as a pilgrim,
It's the favourite sanctuary for every Muslim

So O' Tinkerbell, sprinkle me too with yer fairy pixie dust
so I too can fly, and satisfy, my spasmodic wanderlust

Slithering.
The end curls into sight,
Growing, growing
Until it looms so large denying seems
Impossible.
Yet we can pretend to be blinded
Walk away
While it follows
Writhing, sputtering.
Defying gravity was no longer
Of wonder for denial seems
Easier.
And we fall, comforted, relived
Till it is upon us again
Cowering, raging.
And then no more.

And we forget.

We forget it returns.

untimely death sentence ordained
approximately six months prior
to mother dearest celebrating
her seventieth birthday,
though the last three years of her life
impacted courtesy hysterectomy
to remove malignant growth,
which severely limited
mobility of once vivacious
former Arthur Murray
ballroom dance teacher
when she exuded youthful innocence.

The remaining lines comprising
following reasonable rhyme
crafted quite so many moons ago
exhibit exemplary codified cobbled attempt
to communicate belated filial declaration.

Test teasing prophylactics embarrassing
purchase never made at local drugstore
unsurprisingly, obviously, invariably...
birth control taboo subject, best to ignore
subsequently ******* awkwardly coordinated,
consummated, completed extempore
hence bun in the oven bon jure

yielded unicellular spore
while in utero ~ early/mid
February I ain't exactly sure
nineteen hundred thirty five - dirt poor
Harriet Harris, fourth, last born
fetched vicinity Coney Island offshore

by stork, became favorite progeny begat
courtesy Morris, and then swore
celibacy forever more
Rebeckah Kuritsky heretofore
harbored inchoate genetic fore
boded, encoded, inscribed
deadly mutations housed,

fetched, dispatched and bore
flawed BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes sketched
affecting circumscribing her allotted mortality
orbitz equaling about three and a half score
unknowingly, unsuspectingly, unwittingly,
her biologic fatal demise indelibly etched.

Breast cancer first brush
sounded death knell
Harriet approximately clocked fifty plus
underwent grueling radiation
plus chemotherapy
carcinoma eradicated allowed,
enabled, provided breathing spell

reprieve accentuated, galvanized, punctuated...
newfound zealous zest almost
nothing could quell
significance pray tell
new lease on life to sell
lib berate cherish, relish, whish

each precious moment
thwarting pell mell
adversity with bon vivant elan
and gusto to issue rebel yell
kickstarting, making breast
livingsocial aye bell,

especially after despite... er... well
her double mastectomy,
she looked fabulously swell
courtesy silicon implants
slight downside reconstituted
racked ***** *****
susceptible to ooze gel.

Many years post remission telltale
diagnosis, viz ovarian,
despite requisite hysterectomy
emotionally did impale,
she instinctually, intuitively,
invariably, yet quiver and quail

against impending demise 24/7 did assail
guardian angel(s) of no avail,
nor did yours truly proffer nurturance
resentment smoldering within this male
red hot poker anger lambasting me
peppered with ultimatums to vamoose,

never got resolved ensuing estrangement
deterred reaching out to embrace,
hearing raspy fading breaths exhale,
miserably tethered with tubes,
when she did severely pine
silently beckoning sole son
never knowing extent she did ail

and after seventeen plus years ago
still grievously, necessarily,
and unquestionably bewail
corporeal essence ashen pale
awkwardly, helplessly, stupidly... I stood
formidable grim reaper foe whisked mother
to Elysian fielded dale.

An innocent miss steak kin...
once former main lion den cha hoard servant,
resident iz cow herd vegetarian boar
hoof faux whatever reason iz explore

ring bing foo fighting beastie boy, who doth
newt practice, what he preaches your
truly battens down chicken
coop hatches so... call me galore
re: us hypocritic,
this honest to dog omnivore – more

accurate said buzzfeeding primate -
**** sapiens, he whelk hams
adieu after quick bonjour
hears ear splitting eeyore
deaf finning chore
tills unable to ignore

admits transgression,
now wonder wherefore
whether art thou still
game to reed my adore
hub bull poetry
understandable if ye deplore

such atrocious, egregious, opprobrious...,
violating ethical core
**** regarding straying
against dietary herbivore
rudimentary eel lamb ants
(chocolate covered my dear Watson)

boot fault in the starfish...por
favor mice elf can
oxe plain twittering like plover
with reasonable rhyme for sure
don't get doggy dimples in bunch
cause to skewer me but... but before...

sending killing squad to slaughter -
this puppy, aye kindly honour
my wish and don
me noggin with pompadour
as fetching drag queen
torpedo sized *****

squirting parti-color
milk as self defense mechanism
averting casus belli thus
amidst melee I abhor
find self on horns of dilemma
life story of this poor

cooked goose flambé
caught between rock and trapdoor
special cannibal delight
where madding crowd
chants "send him back"
accursed unconscionable roar

ring anger, but lurch for eats,
an impulsive reflex courtesy extempore
rain nee yes unforgivable poor
craven impulse to up peas hunger
uncontrollably craving regarding carnivore

pang additionally not further injure
ring innocent animal plus more
to this fishy tail than
meats the Wawa birdseye.

1935 - ~ May 4th, 2005
(untimely death sentence ordained ~ early February 1935)

I trot out a poem acknowledging birthday
of dear ole mom, who succumbed,
lost lease on life
nearly two decades ago,
who frequently asked me,
but never received acknowledgement
during her livingsocial years did abjure
(as the sole son)
communicating HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Test teasing prophylactics embarrassing
purchase never made at local drugstore
unsurprisingly, obviously, invariably...
birth control taboo subject, best to ignore
subsequently ******* awkwardly coordinated,
consummated, completed extempore
courtesy the mythic sheet with a hole
through which prudish  
maternal grandparents supposedly copulated
hence bun in the oven bon jure

yielded unicellular spore
while in utero ~ early/mid
February I ain't exactly sure
nineteen hundred thirty five - dirt poor
Harriet Harris, fourth, last born
(interesting enough shared same birthdate
with eldest sister twelve years her senior)
fetched vicinity Coney Island offshore
by stork, became favorite progeny begat
courtesy Morris, and then swore
celibacy forever more

Rebeckah Kuritsky heretofore
harbored inchoate genetic fore
boded, encoded, inscribed
deadly mutations housed,
fetched, dispatched and bore
flawed BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes sketched
affecting circumscribing her allotted mortality
orbitz equaling about six months shy
of three and a half score
unknowingly, unsuspectingly, unwittingly,
her biologic fatal demise indelibly etched.

Breast cancer first brush
sounded death knell
Harriet approximately clocked fifty plus
orbitz around the sun,
she underwent grueling radiation
plus chemotherapy
carcinoma eradicated allowed,
enabled, provided breathing spell
reprieve accentuated, galvanized, punctuated...

newfound zealous zest almost
nothing could quell
significance pray tell
new lease on life to sell
lib berate cherish, relish, whish
each precious moment
thwarting pell mell
adversity with bon vivant elan
and gusto to issue rebel yell

kickstarting, making breast
livingsocial aye bell,
especially after despite... er... well
her double mastectomy,
she looked fabulously swell
courtesy silicon implants
slight downside reconstituted
racked ***** *****
susceptible to ooze gel.

Many years post remission telltale
diagnosis, viz ovarian,
despite requisite hysterectomy
emotionally did impale,
she instinctually, intuitively,
invariably, yet quiver and quail

against impending demise 24/7 did assail
guardian angel(s) of no avail,
nor did yours truly proffer nurturance
resentment smoldering within this male
red hot poker anger lambasting me
peppered with ultimatums to vamoose,

never got resolved ensuing estrangement
deterred reaching out to embrace,
hearing raspy fading breaths exhale,
miserably tethered with tubes
when she did severely pine ail

and grievously bewail
corporeal essence ashen pale
awkwardly, helplessly, stupidly... I stood
formidable grim reaper foe whisked mother
to Elysian fielded dale.

(alternately titled: lion eyes hide sharp claws
unless made irate, then yours truly
bares his sharp talons
on all of mine faux pas).

Aye attest tubby reincarnated
from one male Russian Blue
species Felis silvestris catus
named Morris if that gives a clue,
and during my fuzzy past
hence, asthma “Cats Cradle”
segued into kitten hood
fur hum lee established

type cats as (tin pan) alley cat,
a rather litter boxed gritty debut
t'wood become (later in life) tabby
quick as greased lightning
snatching in the air,
when tender vittles flew,
technically got fired (acquiring
appropriate pet nicknames)

as fame (like a bushy cat tail) grew
viz perfect back up crooner
for “Cat Stevens”,
or lead singer for
the "Stray Cats" oddly
coupled, featured, and
incorporated with the guru
Horton Hears A Hoo,

yes him Elephant resembling
a humungous mandrake
from the, "Animals,"
whose body heat could
easily melt an igloo,
whereby Eskimos accepted charity from
Korean philanthropists named Joo
(founders of Palaces for Pachyderms),

these lumbering creatures possessed
an exemplary photographic memory
(rivaling that of the amazing
deceased idiot savant
Kim Peek) knew
practically every detail
incorporating trunk hated lines
(and could track missing lynx),

when felines shared common ancestor
but,...such petty files would most likely boar
and go way off course, and hence
I will shy away being extempore
favoring a deliberate fore
ray padding around basically ignore
ring any rhyme or reason
suddenly ending this persiflage,
and thence to thee bon jour.

Ah..., how I idolize the days of yore
before June twentieth, and twenty first
two thousand twenty three
when utter senselessness wore,
a trail of woe brutally
ravaging and savaging mine psyche,
yours truly attests gullibility tore
and rent asunder
leaving cumulative finances
decimated, pulverized, and frankly zapped
rendering me poor
as a Unitarian church mouse named Kishore
***** deed done dirt cheap extempore
courtesy yours oblivious to "red flags."

I still bitterly lament how
the computer/scammer
who called himself "Harvey Specter"
exhibited exceptional faux zeal
and blame myself,
whereby figurative cog and wheel
within sixty plus shades
housing mine gray matter
did not properly turn
ordinarily (when perspicacity,
sensitivity, and acuity optimally function)

setting off an ear splitting squeal
loud enough to rouse
a sleeping Leviathan
when upon awakening would bellow
now cue the giant
from Jack and the beanstalk
Fee-fi-fo-fum!
I smell the blood
of an Englishman:
Be he alive, or be he dead,
I'll grind his bones to make my bread.

Nevertheless significant loss
viz medium of exchange
(enriching the coffers of another -
particularly him that scoundrel
née fraudster foisting financial fiasco
frazzling father most definitely nonideal
modus operandi I envisioned,
hence the gofundme page
(ofttimes sited with
gentility, honesty, integrity...
when crafting previous poems),
yet passage of time did not heal

severe financial hemorrhage,
keeping checking and savings accounts
analogously under critical care
(think intensive care),
whereby heroic measures undertaken
wads of cold cash linkedin
to many intravenous tubes
but ideally capitol offense
aired once again toward remuneration
imposed upon ganef

who bled me dry
courtesy convincingly, glibly, liberally...
sweet talking his way,
and I swallowed hook, line and sinker
(fabrication that Citizens bank employees
scheming to siphon investments)
yielded zilch (the big goose egg),
absolute zero positive result,
i.e. even partial remittance of lost monies,
when yours truly did make an appeal.

Anthropomorphic test device to explore
amply, cheaply tricked out
with super tramping,
albeit unsophisticated trappings
strewn ceiling to floor
available for purchase at Dollar store
(actually merchandise
cost more than 100 pennies)
nonetheless unmanned spacecraft made
perfect landing upon alien nation i.e. red
planet's moon Phobos, meanwhile corps
engineers back at the ranch (nondescript
building) hi-fived each other perfect score

housed astrophysicists who didst monitor
remote control desktop exhaling relief for
misplaced anticipatory
uneasy tense premature
panic/fear transferred
figurative reins more
or less to onboard robots
re: exchanged pleasant bonjour
all around - as mission
impossible (most swore
could not be pulled off
without a hitch) successful procedure
to launch humanoid cargo spurred roar

as international teammates
(former rivals) just recently at war
liberated mutual accolades did reassure
each other, abe linkedin pact enterprise
predicated - regarding good rapport
witnessed courtesy delicate
present endeavor bore
invariably promised cheers galore
since assignment on shoestring budget,
would reap bajillions to sponsor
manned near future
outer space excursion hefty price tag
guaranteed state of the art – fourscore

and seven years ago proclaimed
men/women analogous
to pioneers of yore
solar system the new "wild west"
since Earth hereinbefore
now did offer, testimony tour
ring outer limits twilight zone
no way José extempore
modus operandi ditched
humanity to pollinate cosmos
ghost of Carl Sagan
would applaud as fitting encore.

and ruffling turkey feathers!

An innocent A1 miss steak kin kith
once, a former main lion resident
living social where Tigress and Euphrates
converge and pool into Lake Wobegone  
necessitate extensible claws
to CAPTCHA unsuspecting top notch praise
omnipresent among cat skills
hidden from public scrutiny
iz cow herd vegetarian boar
hoof faux whatever reason explore
ring beak homing hootie and the blowfish
foo fighting beastie boy

regarding akin getting turned into transgender
goo goo doll, who doth
newt practice, what he/she preaches
nevertheless please befriend me
a (goofball - gipper generic and gallant
aging baby boomer and
long haired pencil necked geek i.e.) your
truly audacious, efficacious,
judicious, and perspicacious
wordsmith, who though married
thwarts egg gone eye zing hen pecking
courtesy unnamed ruler of roost.

Mystery man battens down amply spacious
(think webbed wide wolf gang proof)
lot for free roaming chickens,
who as little chicks respond courtesy peep
so cute, I vowed to become vegetarian
disassembled cramped coop hatches,
though impossible mission
to swear off being craving meat
even if juiced a braised animal morsel
whets appetite of carnivore

so... call me galore
re: us hypocritical plant dependent chap,
this honest to dog omnivore – more
accurately said buzzfeeding primate -
**** sapiens, he whelk hams
adieu after quick bonjour
hears ear splitting donkey hote tee mockery
analogous feat cheering despondent eeyore
nudging deaf finning stubbornness quite a chore
to motivate Jenny, she finally relents

and distills mine genuine goodness
qua gentle prodding unable to ignore,
especially sensing favorite treat
which carrot and stick ruse admits transgression,
and slyness teasing out desired objective,
similar to wily, totally tubular quirky logophile
employing double entendres,
now wonders wherefore
whether thou art still
game to read remaining adore

hub bull poetry of mine
understandable if ye deplore
such tongue in cheek
atrocious, egregious, ingenious, opprobrious...,
(just shy violating ethical core
**** regarding straying)
against dietary herbivore
rudimentary eel lamb ants
(chocolate covered my dear Watson)
boot fault in the starfish...por

favor mice elf can
oxe plain twittering like plover
with reasonable rhyme for sure
don't get doggy dimples in bunch
cause to skewer me but... but before...
sending killing squad to slaughter -
this puppy, aye kindly honour
my wish and don
me noggin with pompadour
as fetching drag queen

torpedo sized *****
squirting parti-color
milk as self defense mechanism
averting casus belli, thus
amidst melee I abhor
find self on horns of dilemma
life story of this poor
cooked goose flambé
caught between rock and trapdoor
special cannibal Buddha delight

where madding crowd
chants "send him back"
accursed unconscionable roar
ring anger, but lurch for eats,
an impulsive reflex courtesy extempore
rain nee yes unforgivable poor
craven impulse to up peas hunger
uncontrollably craving regarding carnivore
pang additionally not further injure
ring innocent animals plus more
to this fishy tail than
meats the Wawa birdseye.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njHvGxZgTPk

Relaxing Music for Deep Sleep. Delta Waves.
Calm Background for Sleeping, Meditation, and Yoga.

Amidst human tempest
malevolent fiery brew
whereby renegades who
kickstarted effective coup
I laid down with
eyes wide shut yours truly drew

listening to above
world wide web hyperlink
silently lambasting rambunctious
hoodlums ewe
could literally feel
maniacal malefactors rage that flew

wrenching loose ramparts
held together courtesy democratic glue
as pillaging hooligans
shrieked ear splitting cry and hue
heard far away as Aleutian Islands,
where said sedimentary islands
capped by steep volcanoes

resemble an immense stony igloo
interestingly enough housing
a very reformed (Unitarian) Jew
whose state of the art cave
of course tricked out
with sophisticated internet connection
subsequently therefore he knew

upheaval despite Washington D.C. situated
approximately four thousand
and three miles away
much relieved to celebrate his upcoming LXII birthday
(January thirteenth – three days hence)
(enhanced courtesy boyish good looks)
far removed from former swamp

long since repurposed into Capitol Hill
the seat of the U.S. government, home
to domed United States Capitol, Senate,
Houses of Representatives and
neoclassical Supreme Court
linkedin with countless major beltway.

The information superhighway doth allow,
enable and provide live streaming access,
which unsettling all American (as apple pie)
terroristic travail etched creases
into mine permanently furrowed brow
suppressing appetite, hence

hoop fully explains bowl of uneaten chow
prepared by top notch chef
(recipient of many Michelin stars -
and stripes too many to count)
comprised by seafood an expert fisherman
(who trawls hundreds of miles)
spends many hours aboard custom made dhow.

Naturally mentally conjured
inquiry regarding why
and how a sore loser
must foment such anarchy, thus I sigh
especially troubled how an
anti-semitic, bigoted, depraved
self-glorified kook, planned
and venerated maelstrom well nigh.

Impossible mission to ignore
(just barely) aborted attempt
ruffians sought to overthrow government
characterized by one young punk
donned with animal skins and horns to bore

holes into human flesh, now arduous chore
borne by Joe Biden not only to decry and deplore
abomination weeks in the making extempore
since 2020 presidential election decreed
which results Trump did abhor.

battered pinata like

Yours truly courtesy servitude
tethered existence suffers neck
brunt of yoke
fiscal recklessness got me woke
within cosmic schema,
a mere infinitesimal speck.

Insolvent crisis principally bespoke
interestingly enough
caught me off balance
sudden pennilessness
(dollar short/ day late dada)
analogous to vice grip
stranglehold doth choke
coffers emptied
*****-nilly Okey doke
colorblindness
fundamentally governed me

into zombified state
thus another plaintive plea
I repeatedly, lamely, and feebly evoke
meaning remuneration welcomed
courtesy altruistic generosity, magnanimity
and philanthropy humble
anonymous Lake Woebegone folk
ideally Norwegian bachelor farmers
to alleviate fiasco from fiendish
fraudsters frazzled father.

In plain (Schwenksville speak)
broken English,
I fell prey to hustlers
audacious, ferocious, malicious,
voracious, zealous tricksters,
who stealthily found entry
into my Macbook Pro
and locked computer screen
with threatening implication
security of mine private domain
awash with byte size bits
of valuable information
at risk of being tampered
with or obliterated.

Analogous to eminent domain of yore
mine digital terrain
manifest destiny meant war
virtual flesh and blood
regarding these lovely bones
yours truly gussied up
as chargé d'affaires
sent on risky (business) dutiful tour
to inflict comeuppance on him
who rendered me poor
as a Unitarian Church mouse,

plus I recruited
offspring of one of countless
related German Shepherd dogs
featured in fictional stories
on film, radio and television,
who starred as Rin Tin Tin
belonging to elite K9 Korp
receiving unexpected support
courtesy end of gum
(cryptic message for ye
to chew on) sympathizers
voluntarily boosted success
at recouping major financial setback
my morale viz extempore.

Despite being a nineteen year old bride
she wed Boyce Brandon Harris
half a decade her senior,
(where I ranked less than a twinkle in their eyes)
during the month of June 1955,
not quite half a century later ~ May 4th, 2005
death severed the pledge she did troth
linkedin wifely role,
cuz against her will she died
at most four weeks to be more exact
golden wedding anniversary never witnessed
raging against accursed grim reaper
countenance succumbed into collective sorrow

life force forever absent snatched away,
yet magically transformed
into the breathing edenic idyll
courtesy green thumb of eldest sister of mine
once livingsocial mother of ours
invoking trademark contagious l'chaim
flickering aura, charisma, instant karma
persona could not hide mommy dearest
physically eclipsed after
rigor mortis displayed deathly pallor
bonafide grateful dead
signed, sealed and delivered
human cargo into crematorium.

Born November 13th,1935,
the presence of long since deceased mother
her absence acutely recounted on said date,
no matter familial relationship between us,
who begat yours truly (me)
fraught with antipathy,
especially when writer of these words
felt he long overstayed his welcome
as I racked up living with parents
while being a long haired
pencil neck baby boomer geek
experiencing dating women for the first time
courtesy thursday night contra dance.

Books ravenously digested
and female protagonists he brood
as an illusory substitute for this dude
whose retreat into his bedroom
kindled like tinder unidirectional family feud
and donned Samson guise as a protective hood,
whereby Beatle browed,
foo fighting literate philosophical thinker
envied groovy hippies of the late nineteen sixties
riffing lyrics of fab four
fabled melody of Hey Jude,
where testosterone laden fantasies
triggered whet dreams housed lewd
seminal urges pestering spouse,
who offtimes rarely in the mood
for a quickie with the dickie.

Mein kampf as a thirty plus year old groom
test teasing prophylactics embarrassing
purchase never made at local drugstore
unsurprisingly, obviously, invariably...
birth control taboo subject, best to ignore
subsequently ******* awkwardly coordinated,
consummated, completed extempore
synonymous with ******* fulfillment
gonadal hormonal secretion
on par with the mythic sheet with a hole
through which ***** and archaic  
as modus operandi methodology
maternal grandparents supposedly copulated,
hence bun in the oven between self
and future missus Matthew Harris
wrought premarital *** bon jure.

I trot out essential tidbits of poem
acknowledging birthday of dear ole mom,
who succumbed to deadly terminal illness,
she lost lease on life, and met her demise
sooner than indomitable will clamored to live
approximately nineteen and a half years ago
from May 2024, who frequently asked me,
but never received acknowledgement
during her livingsocial years did abjure
(as the sole son)
communicating HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Impossible aery mission
to pinpoint when advent of zygote
triggering miraculous bitta bing bitta bang,
whence deoxyribonucleic acid wrote
legacy of mortal maternal demise
only a hunch backed up
that mystery to unleash
feral fiendish fornication once smote
yielded unicellular spore
while in utero ~ early/mid

February I ain't exactly sure
nineteen hundred thirty five - dirt poor
Harriet Harris, fourth, last born
(interesting enough shared same birthdate
with eldest sister twelve years her senior)
fetched vicinity Coney Island offshore
by stork, became favorite progeny begat
courtesy Morris, and then swore
celibacy forever more
Rebeckah Kuritsky heretofore

harbored inchoate genetic fore
boded, encoded, inscribed
deadly mutations housed,
fetched, dispatched and bore
flawed BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes sketched
affecting circumscribing her allotted mortality
orbitz equaling about six months shy
of three and a half score
unknowingly, unsuspectingly, unwittingly,
her biologic fatal demise indelibly etched.

Breast cancer first brush
sounded death knell
Harriet clocked approximately
six months shy of being a septuagenarian
orbitz around the sun,
she underwent grueling radiation
plus chemotherapy
carcinoma eradicated allowed,
enabled, provided breathing spell
reprieve accentuated, galvanized, punctuated...

newfound zealous zest almost
nothing could quell
significance pray tell
new lease on life to sell
lib berate cherish, relish, whish
each precious moment
thwarting pell mell
adversity with bon vivant elan
and gusto to issue rebel yell

kickstarting, making breast
livingsocial aye bell,
especially after despite... er... well
her double mastectomy,
she looked fabulously swell
courtesy silicon implants
slight downside reconstituted
racked ***** *****
susceptible to ooze gel.

Many years post remission telltale
diagnosis, viz ovarian,
despite requisite hysterectomy
emotionally did impale,
she instinctually, intuitively,
invariably, yet quiver and quail
against impending demise 24/7 did assail
guardian angel(s) of no avail,
nor did yours truly proffer nurturance
resentment smoldering within this male
red hot poker anger lambasting me

peppered with ultimatums to vamoose,
never got resolved ensuing estrangement
deterred reaching out to embrace,
hearing raspy fading breaths exhale,
miserably tethered with tubes
when she did severely pine ail
and grievously bewail
corporeal essence ashen pale
awkwardly, helplessly, stupidly... I stood
formidable grim reaper foe whisked mother
to Elysian fielded dale.

One loyal person who will commit to me.
This is what I ask of thee, just seems like some fantasy.
Something as basic as loyalty. The patience so amiss.

Players galore, lies extempore.
I am hopeless in life, completely.
I believe a non-toxic man does not even exist.

This is hell.