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"harpooner" poems
*"Be the harpooner of the unexamined life, with unfettered rhapsody, comfort caress us, exhort the loopy to light their illusionary candles, turn the sad eyed lowlanders into crinkly eye-lined smilers."* l<>| writ many years past, just another dusted off phrasing, composed from life's lecture notes, collected by eyes tired from the hazing, eyes wearied by the addict-strong, incessant observational needing, of celebrating the loopy, they who make this planet capable of laughing at itself, a helping habit for mutual survival... *should you spot a man ungainly wrought, weighted down by a harpoon cross cursed  'pon his Cain-marked back, you need not move to the other side, 'tis only a make-believe poet, with his recording device, seizing your rhapsodies to rhyme, his collected artifacts, your crinkly smiles, his meat, his metier, his chosen career, a comfort caresser of your illusions into a shapely sculpture of words for you to keep, a token of your now examined worth, a celebration for the keeping...*
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Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
the harpooner of the unexamined life
When a woman says: she likes The man to take the initiative; What she is really saying is: *“Yes, I will **** you, just ask.”* As I write these words, I rent The Eugene O’Neill Theater, Located between Broadway & 8th Ave, on West 49th Street, No shabby venue, I might add. Then I stage & cast the play, Choosing for the role of me, Myself:  Queequeg. Ishmael’s Crypto-Gay, New Bedford, Mass bedmate, A large, well-toned, muscled Man of much ink & few words, Just short pigeon-English phrases, Utterances such as: “I likee.” That’s right, playing me is Melville’s freaky, tattooed, Polynesian harpooner, Right out of *Moby **** And should the ****** imagery & Metaphor of me—yours truly— Packing a harpoon in my trousers, Prove a trifle too scrumptiously Potent for you, consider please the ****** potential of a three-way with Chingachgook.
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
"Yes, I'll **** You, Just Ask"
Be a harpooner of the unexamined life, with unfettered rhaposdy, exhort the loopy to light candles of illusions, canonize the nursing mothers to deliver us the kinder Ishmael's who will revel, lead us with warmth and apprehension, with the strength of sinews fixed and flexible, we will believe and they will teach the rest of us that the first commandment is to empathize. with clinical observation, dense and demanding, make us laugh at the comedy of our situation, the comedy of our conscience, our free to see, the peep show of us, explicate and deconstruct our unexamined lives, help us to extend the boundaries, record the voyages of our timepieces, declare us all free and victors, file away the chains of language and declare us all poets
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Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
You! Pledge that you will
This poem is dedicated to Steve Yocum, author, poet, and soldier farmer, father, grandfather, man exemplar, whom I honor and honors me, with the noblest title in all humankind, friend. But above all, I honor him most, as a tireless, truthful, harpooner of the examined and the unexamined life ~~~ *"Be the harpooners of the unexamined life, with unfettered rhapsody, comfort caress us, exhort the loopy to light their illusionary candles, turn the sad eyed lowlanders into crinkly eye-lined smilers."* ~~~ these mine words writ many years past, dusted off phrasings, on dusty shelf long lain, mined from notes, decades steadily collected by steadily diminishing ears and eyes, gathered most from self-taught lectures and self-deceiving dances, garbed and wearily grabbed by the addict-strong  observational need, persistent and perpetual, to pay off fresh debits, renewables owed to the lovely, to the loopy, inhabitants who excite and inspire my so far, rebirthing, youthful, yearling heart who provide the special crazy that justifies existence just men, connected by a bond of sonship, kinship crowning kingship, blood types as different as an A is to B both shall weep in one blood, I, as I do now, while midst the nascent commencement of this sonnet, He, at its commencement, for a good friendship has no beginning or end, but is a circular track, a loop, familial by repeated runnings, yet never, coursed in the exact same manner or speed this thought, this knowledge, bring a smile to this crinkly eyed composer, that the metaphysical will always surpass the binding physics of mortal physical, that two man, who have never met, race side by side, not in competition, but in the mutuality of composition, each a candle holder, both writers, observing the dark illusions, re-making each into a carrier, a shedder of light, each a debt giver and a debt holder to each other, hosts to all the loopy, comfort caressers, to each other and to all who too, are light-bathed by being in possession of the title friend
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
Harpooners of the Unexamined Life
This poem is dedicated to Steve Yocum, author, poet, and soldier farmer, father, grandfather, man exemplar, whom I honor and honors me, with the noblest title in all humankind, friend. But above all, I honor him most, as a tireless, truthful, harpooner of the examined and the unexamined life ~~~ *"Be the harpooners of the unexamined life, with unfettered rhapsody, comfort caress us, exhort the loopy to light their illusionary candles, turn the sad eyed lowlanders into crinkly eye-lined smilers."* ~~~ these mine words writ many years past, dusted off phrasings, on dusty shelf long lain, mined from notes, decades steadily collected by steadily diminishing ears and eyes, gathered most from self-taught lectures and self-deceiving dances, garbed and wearily grabbed by the addict-strong  observational need, persistent and perpetual, to pay off fresh debits, renewables owed to the lovely, to the loopy, inhabitants who excite and inspire my so far, rebirthing, youthful, yearling heart who provide the special crazy that justifies existence just men, connected by a bond of sonship, kinship crowning kingship, blood types as different as an A is to B both shall weep in one blood, I, as I do now, while midst the nascent commencement of this sonnet, He, at its commencement, for a good friendship has no beginning or end, but is a circular track, a loop, familial by repeated runnings, yet never, coursed in the exact same manner or speed this thought, this knowledge, bring a smile to this crinkly eyed composer, that the metaphysical will always surpass the binding physics of mortal physical, that two man, who have never met, race side by side, not in competition, but in the mutuality of composition, each a candle holder, both writers, observing the dark illusions, re-making each into a carrier, a shedder of light, each a debt giver and a debt holder to each other, hosts to all the loopy, comfort caressers, to each other and to all who too, are light-bathed by being in possession of the title friend
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Never understood How to write a full Sentence, But did figure out How to put down Random silly syllables In just a minute, Never figured out How to play the flute, But i did learn how To pick fruit, Caught a cricket Never understood The game cricket, To my dearest Never meant to make you Cry or break your spirit... That was my younger self, I've grown and have learned New ways to carry myself, I know you'll never rest your Eyes on this... This being a poem i wrote Well More typed on my phone While you was in the back Of my dome, I know I'll never aton For the actions i have sewn, Just know my shoes I walked in holding your hands I've out grown, I have became a different man, I'm sorry for not telling you That ever time i looked In your eyes i drowned, They where so blue they would remind a pirate Why he loves the ocean, That Sunday nothing but loud lust moaning this Sunday nothing but silence, I do regret the choices I have chosen, I'll end it there For my memories found a way through the catacombs, But my bowman took them Out thank goodness, He who took the shoot Shall be my yeoman, Honor killed the Shogun Snowman left in the snow Was abandoned, Young girls heart was stolen, So much stress took a Nap fell asleep on the cushion, I'm living the life of a foreigner, Cant understand no one Working for a dollar Selling my so called freedom, Thinking of home.. Falling in love with a woman Often, Fortune lady try to tell me my fortune i said " no thanks for you can not tell me my own future" If you did it would just be a rumor, Woke up late cause the Cougar killed the rooster, Didn't see it so i guess that Makes me the accuser, Gotta find it put her in The scope and remover, But if a shark did it I guess I'll have to harpooner, Get blood on my carpet I'll have to shampooer, Either way I'll have to **** the evildoer, But probably offer her A job and interviewer, Fall in love and Honeymooner, Find a cloning factory and reproducer, But i got a better manoeuvre, I'll go to church and scream Hallelujah, Hopefully that'll be one Step closer to get the doors To heaven to open, Dose this count as a poem??
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Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 12:24 AM UTC
He put in headphones a instrumental came on
Never understood How to write a full Sentence, But did figure out How to put down Random silly syllables In just a minute, Never figured out How to play the flute, But i did learn how To pick fruit, Caught a cricket Never understood The game cricket, To my dearest Never meant to make you Cry or break your spirit... That was my younger self, I've grown and have learned New ways to carry myself, I know you'll never rest your Eyes on this... This being a poem i wrote Well More typed on my phone While you was in the back Of my dome, I know I'll never aton For the actions i have sewn, Just know my shoes I walked in holding your hands I've out grown, I have became a different man, I'm sorry for not telling you That ever time i looked In your eyes i drowned, They where so blue they would remind a pirate Why he loves the ocean, That Sunday nothing but loud lust moaning this Sunday nothing but silence, I do regret the choices I have chosen, I'll end it there For my memories found a way through the catacombs, But my bowman took them Out thank goodness, He who took the shoot Shall be my yeoman, Honor killed the Shogun Snowman left in the snow Was abandoned, Young girls heart was stolen, So much stress took a Nap fell asleep on the cushion, I'm living the life of a foreigner, Cant understand no one Working for a dollar Selling my so called freedom, Thinking of home.. Falling in love with a woman Often, Fortune lady try to tell me my fortune i said " no thanks for you can not tell me my own future" If you did it would just be a rumor, Woke up late cause the Cougar killed the rooster, Didn't see it so i guess that Makes me the accuser, Gotta find it put her in The scope and remover, But if a shark did it I guess I'll have to harpooner, Get blood on my carpet I'll have to shampooer, Either way I'll have to **** the evildoer, But probably offer her A job and interviewer, Fall in love and Honeymooner, Find a cloning factory and reproducer, But i got a better manoeuvre, I'll go to church and scream Hallelujah, Hopefully that'll be one Step closer to get the doors To heaven to open, Dose this count as a poem??
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Humpty Dumpty dinosaur Cabbage intervention Pomegranate superman Cat combustion engine Floribunda mermaid sock Tulip nuts crab apple Dingo sausage metaphor Peanuts wedding chapel Rabbit bacon octopus Toadstool hair satsuma Weasel carrot gristle flag Timone simba pumba Purple chicken nugget sauce Generic baby boomer Zebra armpit underware Butterfly harpooner ***** pickle under pants Worm negotiator Windy beansprout sausage dog Cardboard Rotavator Hairy ice cream body ***** Juicy **** denial Otter baby gusset lunch Autopsy free trial
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Feb 12, 2020
Feb 12, 2020 at 3:55 PM UTC
In my head today is a ...