Fantastically fashioned fingers,
  running smoothly through hair;
past present post-
  Father Time struck by Sand Man's stare.


Heavenly hanging hair,
  draping gently over lips;
tantalizing teasing tendrils-
  Aphrodite's mien, Venus' hips.

Lusciously loving lips,
  smiling softly at wandering eyes;
delirious delighted daze-
   Pyramus and Thisbe's kiss--butterflies.

Efficaciously effervescent...
  enchantingly endearing...
    enticingly euphoric...
      exultantly excited...
[Simply] ethereal! Eyes,
  diamonds, starlight, life, of Earth, sky, and sea;
bejeweled boundless bless'ed-
   If thou were Medusa, stone I'd be so readily.

Simply said Shakespeare,
  thou art the sun;
falsely framed fairness-
  for the sun is not brightest,
    tis You tis You,
      my wonderful, beautiful One.

Tightening the rope as the fools dance and dither
Squandering the moments as hourglass falls,
Walking the tightrope in a world lost to thither
Assassins maraud as the fat General calls.
Flat fingers hover above plastic buttons
Hover in hesitant moments of pause,
Waiting in limbo instructions from Hades
Exultantly plunging to holocaust cause.
Plunging erotically down to the plastic
Smearing the sweat and blood in a pool,
Lusting your moment of utter destruction
Casting all humankind’s best …to be fool.

Doubt not veracity’s balance in tremor
Out there the Devil is dancing his jig,
Everywhere globally men flee in terror
Uncertainty slides with the squeal of the pig.
Russia inflates as tyrannical tyrant
Isis is spreading its carpet of blood,
Worldwide the military gird for battle
Appeasement disbursed in a torrent of flood
Shades of veracity flood Sarajevo
Memories taunt of that drumbeat to war,
Demagogues strut now the march of the scarlet
God flees reality….and is no more.

M.
17 March 2015

Embrace by the voices that plague this very weary soul-
Tidal waves of existence-Drowning in complete sorrow-
Reach for the heaven-allow the glory behold-
Smile for the fakes-continue to mask it with goals-
In the stomach of knots lays a treasure of trove-
Where heartless beats-bop-never to stop cries of the cold-
Truth be told all the stories of how you withered a fold-
Deep in your breath you weathered a storm-
The age of the ageless contented the norm-
Rock a buy a lullaby-dreams of being grown-
Home to the distance-Vacant to the throne-
Thorn in the needle-Needlessly torn-
Home is the distance-Distantly shown-
Awake for your existence-un-exultantly known-
Embodied by the voices-the plague-you delicately call your own-

Richard “Ab7e Poet” Itskovich
3/5/2012

Need just one card
Then I could win
Flipping through the deck one more time.
But the Ace of Diamonds never surfaced.
Giving up, scrolling across the screen,
There it was! The card I had searched for
In front of me all the time.

I had lost big time in life.
Everything held as important was gone.
Wondering how to ever get it right
When I had tried so hard!
Letting go of everything
Sitting under the Banyan tree pondering......
My consciousness experienced Him.

An infinite God is not easily
Spotted from a finite perspective.
Especially since we have never
Known a moment of our existence without Him.
He is the big bang of all the multiple universes' out there.
He is endlessly smaller than any semi conductor findings.
His is a part of every thought within each of us.

Walking away from everything I held as important,
Wondering how life could be different,
Knowing that my efforts could always be thwarted.
Asking, "How can I get it right?"
Then and only then
Did I finally see the card always before me.
The one card I needed to win the game.

No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draw him,
and I will raise him on the last day. John 6: 44

Beloved, do not be surprised a trial by fire is occurring among you, as if something strange were happening to you. But rejoice to the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, so that when His glory is revealed you may also rejoice exultantly." 1 Peter 4: 12-13

*Jesus said to his disciples: "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit."   John 12: 24

If only i had a chance to relive my past;
i would
i have a reputation of feeling worthless and not knowing what it really means to be loved
or does it eventually happen when you taste the true essence of life?
if i had a chance to undo my scars and heal from what i have experienced
i would start by conquering my fear and standing up for who i am
i let people overrun me
i let liars and my enemies manipulate me
and where has it left me?
nowhere!
if only there was still a way to remove all my sorrow or my pain
i know i would exultantly leap forward and take the step of erasing the wrongs i have done
and then making each moment precious by believing in who i am
also, rather than being told what to do
for once doing things my own way
i wanna be who i am and not lurk behind.

When I was a little girl,
I could remember the days when
I used to exultantly run across the
yard in front of my home, the sun
stealing a peek at my beautiful,
melanin skin, how it glowed a golden
hue in the perfect position, the way it
depicted a young girl living with no pain
or fear in the world, the way the summer
breeze shifted my body in different directions,
my eyes in sync with the spectacular beat
of my feet, the way the great, flaky clouds moved
in rhyming motion, allowing themselves to delve
deeper into my dimension and feel the excitement
bursting within my soul.  I could see the many
oncoming vehicles slow driving down my street,
the white smoke from their engines rising in the air
like a baby bird learning to hover for the first time,
the way they gazed at my petite body with extreme
fascination, the way I could see them retracing the days
back to when they were a little kid, feeling the warmth
and the sweet sunshine encompass their vivid view, like
they would never age into adulthood, like they were connected
to an unknown reality where time was nonexistent.  I knew
at that moment if they could just stop their vehicles and pull
to the side of the road and touch my soft, vibrant skin, it would
spark a fire so bright that would send them back into their childhood days.

Aye sandman, I surrender to yar supreme governance
surreal spectacular soiree gifts subconscious sphere
soothing (analogous to natural palliative), ah...REM
member nought, asper exquisite entertaining cerebral
kaleidoscope replete with nonpareil visual trappings

aesthetically tantalizing unforgettable..., but lo' eye can't
captcha scenario upon awakened state, tis bothersome
transcendent, resplendent, quiescent,...transient dream
ticking escapement shuttered against recollections...
aye plead mercy to jog, (and gently jimmy - yeah of

course figuratively) shuttered facet slammed tight soon
nee immediately inaccessible dimension brought forth
teasingly, phantasmagorically, numbingly ephemeral,
nevertheless temporarily liberating, enshrouding, and
cocooning against incessant drubbing mine corporeal

wakeful body electric relentlessly fraught with profuse
inexplicable perspiration (principally palms) recurs
like clockwork (despite prescription medications), this
physiological discomfort hazards livingsocial quotidian
joyless agonizing oft times including courtesy, not

"FAKE" panic attack, these anxiety less debilitating,
when emotionally torturous teenage years wracked
every cell (no matter how fast I ran - just Kuwait, the
mailer daemons threatened) to undermine even flickr
of happiness, hence suicidal ideations (eternal slumber)

tantalized (still populate though processes) as surefire
solution to mitigate despite leaving those who love,
and especially hate yours truly, his existence bereft
of quality, though tranquil physical quasi rural setting
(Schwenksville), a naturalistic, fantastic, holistic balm,

here quiet as a cemetary removed, not considerably
distant from Philadelphia (hubbub disagrees with hair
trigger vulnerability), where madding crowd affects my
innate neurological predisposition, these lovely bones

easily rattled, quite aggravating to live verging upon
tremulous agitation assuaged through writing - catharsis
delivers temporary alleviation as doth solitary voluntary
sequestration poor substitute to relish L'Chaim!

Now Holy cow, I modestly bow vine
and dandy attired with New Times Roman font –
showing off me lix - plus iv ridging
despite afflicting unsuspecting reader  
to experience insufferable oh press
sieve corny word play yes
please lemme know and honestly profess
if profusion of words create lingual Loch Ness,
when hens can't come home to roost
especially, encountering
the following conglomeration
in Matthew Scott Harris patois.

He readily admits writing inventive
attempts usually ten tubby a literary mess,
thus finding innocent cyber cruisers
Angle fishing for Saxony fundamental fluidity
courtesy of Freudian stream of consciousness,
gabbling gibberish, muck not done on purpose
and certainly less
modest ambition to impress.

Gnome hatter intent toward
cogency, fancy ingenuity,
levity, the inevitable
resultant wrought gobbledygook
fascination for Lingua Franca
feeble endeavor splutters, splinters,
and splatters Asia Yukon guess.

Paramour status analogous with twenty six letters,
sans En gull Lush Mother tongue confluence
finds me submerged (as an Arctic Monkey)
swimmingly enervated
via ****** laced sentiments
perhaps finds bravely daring soul madly
hollering, gesticulating floundering,
(in close proximity to Davy Jones's locker)
to avoid drowning at sea
perchance comprehending passionate influence.

Upon espying a signature poem of mine
forces one pre ponder ring lurking predilection
tib hush anonymous re:
dears (dares) adventuresome mettle
taking him/her to the brainy
(briny) deep brink Icon fess

this (NON FAKE) pretense, why
aye metaphorically express
(via medium of ordinary Anglophile
alphabetic wonton soup,
or figurative egg drop soup
bubbling broth (el) doth brew)

pronouns Sibyl affectation
affliction sans plethora,
where each ladle full adrip with
richly flavor Verdana Font lee
and sincerely textured vocabulary.

Pluperfect mortals beings undoubtedly feel
(blindsided, how this hunger stricken author
suffers said sesquipedalian syndrome
particularly expectorating flashy

hoping tum bark on successful literary quest)
hyper aware aspiring paperback writers wannabe
might stoop to conquer, cheat, cadge
vis a vis plagiarize plethora
amidst storied plentiful English droppings.

Rather than succumb pretense feigning paucity
temptation to bask exultantly,
professed glorious unrequited love
announcing required sworn vow,
(el lye ding) avowed consonant covenant.

It’s crazy how you had
such a stronghold on me,
to take me outside of time
and bring me into your light simultaneously,
transfixed on your tantalizing stare,
how your gorgeously golden-brown eyes
kept me stuck in your tine portal,
incapable of reaching the border,
my core filled with electrifying equations
of your full-flavored honey
that circled my nation.
I was stranded in space,
surrounded by your elevated diction,
charmed by your blossoming spark,
how your heart held phenomenal pleasure,
taking me to the right places
of your seductive stages,
exciting me with your saccharine delight,
dreamy brightness interweaving your thoughts
into the enchanting waves of my glorious ocean.
You were so extremely inebriating,
generating steam like a mug of chocolaty coffee,
like a *** of boiling water,
so hot like scarlet Mars,
your body a boundlessly sunlit landscape
awaiting for me to stroll upon and loll
on the bare, untouched grounds of your soul,
to feel your thriving flow,
driving me towards the most profound depths
of your masculine magnetism.  
You reflected rapturous dreams
that led to various dimensions,
pulling me into your sparkling warmth,
into your brilliant multicolored rainbow,
into your extraordinary aurora,
into your heavenly humanness
that flowed like lyrical liquid down my throat,
allowing me to glow and gravitate to higher flights,
your overpoweringly bright sun shining into my life,
guiding me through the long, narrow alleyways
where your love replenished my existence.
I felt like a little kid filled with thrilling happiness
on Christmas day,
like a teenager falling in love for the first time in their life,
like a gentle white dove exultantly flying to its soulmate.
Your touch was rare and pleasantly cozy
like lying in a recliner at home
watching the smooth, powdery snow fall
from the endlessly distant sky,
my eyes lost in your romantic wonderland,
my hands pressed on my chest,
strumming passionate songs
on the strings of my violin that lied within me,
smelling the enchantment from your scent
of bergamot, lavender, sage, and sandalwood,
how you stood out in the purest light,
reminding me of the most aromatic flowers,
a sacred star, an amazingly lustrous moon,
a collection of crystal and translucent china,
a deep, striking sapphire,
a logical, lovable, and realistic man
that I loved most of all.