What is that flower I see?
While walking
Culloden pavilions

Sweet William
Sweet William
Sweet William

It may only be a flower
but it's story has power

to me
I see

Stinking Billy
Stinking Billy
Stinking Billy.

In my dream the other night,
I first heard a panicked mot's voice:

"Is me, mo ghile mear!
Cathain a thoicfaidh tú abhaile chugam?"

When light then entered my eyes,
I saw a young woman hunched o'er a table

She writing, quill in hand, to her man.
Like a ghost I hovered o'er her.

I saw the year, 1745
The year of the Jacobite.

I blinked my eyes
And my world went black.

Once opened again, I saw that time had passed
And a tear-stained letter lay on the desk.

Mo leannán fionn, the letter read
Tá me i ndeoraíocht.
Is ár bprionsa caillte.
A stór, mo ghrá thú, ach
Níl riamh feicfidh mé tu arís.

When I awoke that morn,
The ghosts of the lovers haunted me.

I pitied that mot, who lost her love forever to exile
I pitied that cove, exiled from his love forever.

Though only shades, their story
Is from the dawn of time.

that’s genius! honestly,
we killed apache and aztec tribalism off
with money,
by said: copper signatured elizabeth ii
is worth more than gold signatured john...
there was  never a second given
the magna carta...
only the individual will to will survives...
to get the biological categorisation treatment
is really horrid, morbid to resurrect death even;
otherwise it's all heidegger as:
only the individual will to be survives...
which really does but really doesn't appropriate
humanity, given there's no given example -
although ideally it's all maple syrop & pancakes dandy.
i hate the english intellectual output,
it’s so finite, so fascinated with post-anglo-saxon gore.
nonetheless...
    copper worth more than gold
    just, just because it had elizabeth ii written on it
    as the unrighteous owner of copper?!
    i dare say i will complain with a jacobite plot
   to plough fireworks in parliament.
i guess it does translate as kingdom in nothern ireland:
bow and **** the kind m’lord;
i’ll write you a ******* of reality you wish you could have seen:
just so you could satiate your necessity of writing fiction...
because in terms of reality and writing fiction...
you haven’t seen enough of the first.
so you do the next best thing equated with western democracy...
you hide me.

Here by the shore of the swift flowing Boyne
Where the Jacobite cause bled and died.
Here the piper had come to find his dead sons
that their loved native soil must soon hide.
What chance had they here against William’s cannon
Armed with muskets their grand sires bore?
Why had they been drawn to the sound of the guns?
A call they will hear nevermore.
While he searched he still harbored the faintest of hopes
That one of his sons still might bide.
But no, then he saw them as if they both slept
by the shore of the Boyne, side by side.
Beneath a great oak the man buried his hopes
His ***** turned the red clay aside.
His strong hands worked the earth for all he was worth
as a trickle of sweat stung his eyes.

I have heard that man play, on the cool evening’s breath,
Such a dirge as would make angels weep.
It’s a cry from his heart that escapes   from his pipes
to the place where his two heroes sleep.

(similar physiological phenomena
affected yours truly
exactly one year ago),
yet nevertheless hunger,
not only for victuals
but peace on Earth
and goodwill to all men,
women, children, animals,
plants, et cetera

Mine corporeal complex edifice
unleashes convulsions of anxiety
less so regarding mine kampf,
one paltry existence among bajillions
of **** sapiens, but rather
indiscriminate violence of war.

Wanton aggression unleashed
upon defenceless civilians
caught in the crosshairs
of abhorrent, indignant, repugnant...
pillaging, ******, trespassing,
violating, xing sacrosanct boundaries
against humble people.

Said encroachment upon Ukraine
major reason lack of appetite
prevails to savor even smallest bite
unlike Pavlov's dog,
I neither salivate nor excite
at prospect (parking) body
against table not low but fahrenheit
unfair punishment fates did indict,
whereby yours truly decreed
to suffer wraith inflicted

akin to ghastly revengeful Jacobite
asitia struck with vengeance
sucker punched pit of stomach
with furious dog forsaken might
unsavory predicament figuratively
eating away me passion
to relish comestibles day and night,
hence feeble effort to craft poem quite
lame rhyming for no reason right?

Yours truly cannot remember,
how many days, weeks, months... ago
elapsed, whereby with voraciousness I ate
(above mentioned statement veracious -
food for thought) I plainly communicate
hoop fully buzzfeeding, dishing out quandary

in fortified effort to elucidate
thee dear anonymous reader great
if newfound (albeit tenuous) intrigue
awoke courtesy mine artful ruse to initiate
reciprocity, cuz regret iz the stealer of joy
thus verbally athletic, cryptic, enigmatic,

generic, idiotic, kinetic, magnetic, opportunistic
quixotic, solipsistic (ha) troubadour
who heartily hales within
southeastern keystone-state
dares himself to reach out across cyberspace
in an cautiously optimistic effort to mitigate

and extend his metaphorical (albeit empty) plate
maintaining netiquette, an amorphous,
yeah flirtatious nebulous groovy savoir faire,
which mine body, mind, spirit triage
suddenly seems restoration of natural craving
toward sustenance doth oscillate.

What relief long starved taste buds to appease
cuz methought (courtesy obsessive compulsive
worst case scenario catastrophizing)
one garden variety guy
acquired some generic disease
A deep sigh of relief he dryly heaves!

December first nineteen fifty nine and
December first two thousand twenty three
represents sixty six orbitz
one prized Earthling
named Amélie Beth Harris-McGeehan
completed round the sun.

About half her life linkedin
with spousal enrichment,
(while hunkered down livingsocial
in Woodbury, New Jersey),
hence the hyphenated married name.

Though said endearing eldest sister
approximately thirteen plus months my senior,
ofttimes during mein kampf,
she displayed maternal (motherly) mien.

Back during mine boyhood
dark shadows along the edge of night
(emanating from outer limits
of the twilight zone)
spooked me to flinch
as did appearance
of the boogeyman induce affright
only exacerbated my delicate mental health
punctuated psyche of mine
with disequilibrium ******-social blight
above named sibling a protector I cite
twilled me in the valley

of love and delight,
an emotional refuge rescued sought
deliverance from anguish
loving succor proffered
peace upon mine body, mind, and soul,
she did immediately expedite
warming cockles of me heart
analogous to affecting, creating,
forging, jumpstarting, offering, and ushering
ideal paradise island temperature
if measured by degrees balmy fahrenheit
pointing, revealing, shining,

and training a guiding-light
unafraid to defend diminutive
docile, inordinately meek brother,
when threatened courtesy bullies
that significantly towered over mine
below average stature height
a measly little skinny, yet zany
(when within comfort of home) lad
naively oblivious to our mother,
when her first born daughter dynamic,
especially smoldering contention
kindled figurative tinder, which squabble

escalated in intensity
sparking vehement feud to ignite
loosing volatile verbal exchange
triggering The Emergency Alert System
to issue warning
lest clear and present danger
(at 324 Level Road)
recorded in history books
licking, overshadowing, rivaling,
and undermining revolution
kickstarted and hashtagged as Jacobite.

Mine corporeal complex edifice
unleashes convulsions of anxiety.

Lack of appetite
to savor even smallest bite
unlike Pavlov's dog,
I neither salivate nor excite
at prospect (parking) body
against table not low but fahrenheit
unfair punishment fates did indict,
whereby yours truly decreed
to suffer wraith inflicted

akin to ghastly revengeful Jacobite
asitia struck with vengeance
sucker punched pit of stomach
with furious dog forsaken might
unsavory predicament figuratively
eating away me passion
to relish comestibles day and night,
hence feeble effort to craft poem quite
lame rhyming for no reason right?

Yours truly cannot remember,
how many days, weeks, months... ago
elapsed, whereby with voraciousness I ate
(above mentioned statement veracious -
food for thought) I plainly communicate
hoop fully buzzfeeding, dishing out quandary

in fortified effort to elucidate
thee dear anonymous reader great
if newfound (albeit tenuous) intrigue
awoke courtesy mine artful ruse to initiate
reciprocity, cuz regret iz the stealer of joy
thus verbally athletic, cryptic, enigmatic,

generic, idiotic, kinetic, magnetic, opportunistic
quixotic, solipsistic (ha) troubadour
who heartily hales within
southeastern keystone-state
dares himself to reach out across cyberspace
in an cautiously optimistic effort to mitigate

and extend his metaphorical (albeit empty) plate
maintaining netiquette, an amorphous,
yeah flirtatious nebulous groovy savoir faire,
which mine body, mind, spirit triage
suddenly seems restoration of natural craving
toward sustenance doth oscillate.

What relief long starved taste buds to appease
cuz methought (courtesy obsessive compulsive
worst case scenario catastrophizing)
one garden variety guy
acquired some generic disease.