Touch it: it won't shrink like an eyeball,
This egg-shaped bailiwick, clear as a tear.
Here's yesterday, last year ---
Palm-spear and lily distinct as flora in the vast
Windless threadwork of a tapestry.

Flick the glass with your fingernail:
It will ping like a Chinese chime in the slightest air stir
Though nobody in there looks up or bothers to answer.
The inhabitants are light as cork,
Every one of them permanently busy.

At their feet, the sea waves bow in single file.
Never trespassing in bad temper:
Stalling in midair,
Short-reined, pawing like paradeground horses.
Overhead, the clouds sit tasseled and fancy

As Victorian cushions. This family
Of valentine faces might please a collector:
They ring true, like good china.

Elsewhere the landscape is more frank.
The light falls without letup, blindingly.

A woman is dragging her shadow in a circle
About a bald hospital saucer.
It resembles the moon, or a sheet of blank paper
And appears to have suffered a sort of private blitzkrieg.
She lives quietly

With no attachments, like a foetus in a bottle,
The obsolete house, the sea, flattened to a picture
She has one too many dimensions to enter.
Grief and anger, exorcised,
Leave her alone now.

The future is a grey seagull
Tattling in its cat-voice of departure.
Age and terror, like nurses, attend her,
And a drowned man, complaining of the great cold,
Crawls up out of the sea.

Seven days straight, the sun rolls up,always from the same
side of town and just the same way it gives up and lays down
The same buses run on the same old routes.
No letup.
So dream a dream.
Next day,instant replay.
Know what ? I know the  drill

Sunday.is like Halloween, Rubber faces and trick or treat with Reverend Ike.
Fire and brimstone. Please turn down ya cell phones.Pass the plate.
payola to heaven's gate.

Monday.Back on the grind, Blood,sweat and tears.
Grinding mental gears.Pop the clutch,Earn so little
Pay so much.

Tuesday.? just locked in. The Lotto is calling, cant win if ya dont play.
Teasin me bout easy street. Gimme my lump sum Then watch me fly.
Keep missin me with that later, greater noise.
Keep it real son.

Wednesday. Looking of into the sunset now.All ****** up
getting up for the down-stroke.Sweat  of my brow. Feel me NOW ?
Take a deep breath blow out slow. If you dont tell it then the devil wont know.

Thursday. Gettin closer to shore,Go for your backstroke  cause yer starting to
fade.  In through the mouth and out through the nose focus your gaze on the
circling crows? Crows ?

Friday. Ah snap yer ends came up short. Tax man just waxin yer ***.
Ghoulish?. Foolish. Some ends might not meet.

Sat-Day. Not so fat day. Pullin pocket lint by 6.PM.Chump changin.
is changin your mind. Gettin glimpses of stressin the old bump and grind On Moanday. ****.@%#$##$%@
expletive deleted.

Stun-day. Hungday?
Rake  your sh%@t in a pile day ?

No Doubt Assed out.
Hello... Monday.

She only loved the way I made her feel. She didn't love me. Yet I'm okay with that, because I never loved her either. She was a temporary distraction in this eternally dull life. I guess she got something out of it too. She escaped her sad reality of always being alone, even if it was only for a little while. Yet I still wonder, why she keeps crying over my lifeless body. This stupid girl, were you so lonely that you made yourself believe that what we had was real?                     ...I hate that she keeps crying, it's been weeks since my death now. Why can't I pass on to the afterlife? She is probably the cause of my letup, I had thought.                     How much time has passed?  Why can't I move on? Why can't she stop crying?                    Maybe she did truly love me...   A single tear dropped from my right eye.                 Maybe I was truly inlove with her... I began to smile, and I thought to myself... "I guess I was the only one keeping myself back, from passing over to the afterlife.    Goodbye my dear...."  Yet I know she never heard those 3 words, that echoed from my lips as I began to pass on:                  "I    l o v e...      y         o          u."

Though monetary wise,
It doesn't promise to pay
I craft poems everyday,
For instance say

'Why my dream object,
To affections mine
Is adamant to reciprocate!'

The other way round,
Though to acquaintances
Absurd, it may sound,
Some, I have to spend
My poems to newspapers
Magazines and
Websites to send!

For love of the labour,
I will never
Letup the endeavour!

There is a
Great deal of satisfaction
From sitting hours,
To put words into action,
Racking brain
And stretching imagination,
From the earth's core and crust
To the sky and firmament!

At night, when all is quiet,
Till I hit the nail
Right on the head,
I will not repair to bed!

Reading poems
Has satisfaction
No less, for it affords,
Handshakes,with poets
Of all ages,
Poets with poems
Of all colour shades.

Probably the works
Of Shakespeare
That we hold dear!
What is more,Tagore.
In my duties
I will be remiss,
If I forget  mention
Savo,Anna Akmatova,
Sara Teasdale
And Salomeja Neris.

Till getting a cherished corner
www.Allpoetry.com
www.poetrypoems.com
www.poemhunters.com
­www.hellopoetry.com
www.writeoutloud.com
www.novelcollective.com
­Ecstatic I was never!
Now I peruse the websites
Of contemporary poets,
Displaying poetical prowess!

I want to add of course
An east African voice!

Out, a poem to digest
One could make a descent
Into wisdom's pit,
So poem virgins
Why don't you go for it?

From my experience,
For uplifting poems
'Start with Helen Steiner Rice!'
It is my advice.

'It is by the brow of one's sweat
One could paint
The future with
A rosy pink,
Don't you think?

Sitting idle,
Dreaming a rose-bed
Is quite absurd!'

Reversing such mind set
Go for targets set!

Though monetary wise,
It doesn't promise to pay
I craft poems everyday,
For instance say

'Why my dream object,
To affections mine
Is adamant to reciprocate!'

The other way round,
Though to acquaintances
Absurd, it may sound,
Some, I have to spend
My poems to newspapers
Magazines and
Websites to send!

For love of the labor,
I will never
Letup the endeavor!

There is a
Great deal of satisfaction
From sitting hours,
To put words into action,
Racking brain
And stretching imagination,
From the earth's core and crust
To the sky and firmament!

At night, when all is quiet,
Till I hit the nail
Right on the head,
I will not repair to bed!

Reading poems
Has satisfaction
No less, for it affords,
Handshakes,with poets
Of all ages,
Poets with poems
Of all color shades.

Probably the works
Of Shakespeare
That we hold dear!
What is more,Tagore.
In my duties
I will be remiss,
If I forget  mention
Savo,Anna Akmatova,
Sara Teasdale
And Salomeja Neris.

Till getting a cherished corner
www.hellopoetry.com
www.allpoery.com
www.writeoutloud.com
­www.novelcollective.com
www.poemhunter.com
www.poetrypoems.com
Ec­static I was never!
Now I peruse the websites
Of contemporary poets,
Displaying poetical prowess!

I want to add of course
An east African voice!

Out, a poem to digest
One could make a descent
Into wisdom's pit,
So poem virgins
Why don't you go for it?

From my experience,
For uplifting poems
'Start with Helen Steiner Rice!'
It is my advice.

The numb feeling
It's back
I thought I was healing
But I've been hacked

The Demons came back meaner then ever
They have the upper advantage, even though I fight back
They have there hands on the grey lever
But they have something I seem to lack

My head is a dangerous place
Spinning with millions of thoughts and images
My head is acting like a dark cold locked case
Acting as though they can be characterized as erysipelas.

I scream and I shout
But my voice comes out silent and I am mute
Everything I learned as a defense starts to become a doubt
Everyone is giving me a shameful expression, kicking me aside with their boot

So instead as my defense I curl up
I hide from the world to avoid more pain
Waiting for someone to letup
Instead there’s just overwhelming distain
And I extinguish that old flame in me in submission

I warned that you that my head was too dark of a space to enter
I told you I'm a **** up - right down to my centre
I warned you that I am broken
Emotionally and mentally, I'm a burden
I guess that's why everything is all about me
I have these impulsive tendencies
If I feel fear or doubt
I lash out
I won't hang about
I'll speak in the moment
These impulses make me this poet
I find it hard to say what I feel
So I write it down before the ****
I warned you that I am a **** up
In my mind there is no letup
I told you I see things differently
Tis why I am eternally lonely

at a funeral
you don’t know what to do with
your hands
you see cousins you haven’t seen
since your grandma washed you together
in the sink as infants
baby fathers and exes that stayed close with the family
strangers and relatives alike
at a funeral
you don’t hear laughter
or ringtones go off
or the pounding of kids colliding
into people’s shins playing manhunt behind stools
with candles and
scattered memorial programs
only the stillness between the body of your
loved one
in a casket
and that’s the last way you’ll see them
you wallow and think back at pictures
of better days with them and it’s
surreal
that you’re gone
surreal that there is life
after you
people sit in rows and gaze to the front
the closer they sit
the more healing they needed
and the casket is adorned with festive cut outs
to ring life
in their cushioned box
at funerals there are
solemn carpets where
young widows have walked
childless parents have walked
long lost family have walked
and big men have walked
to carry the casket to the hertz
at a funeral
the directors place dollar boxes of stale tissue that
gets ran through without letup
and when people are ready to continue
living they go over to the primary family
hug them
reassuringly hold one hand
and make their exit unknowing of
the next funeral they’ll have to attend
in order to come together
once again

how can you turn a blind eye
to what we could be

i grab your hands and make them latch on
to my thighs
thighs that could give
a dead man life and so i
took your fingers and
trailed them all over
the bumps
scars
stubble
and bruises
telling my story
all of what you don’t hear
choose not to see
yet feel
caress
and ******
to embrace without letup..

there's a black bar glister--

that strikes between the

flippant poles, of this steady

rate of rain.

while bone dry with a rain that

has letup its old footage, a present

nonevent.

an encinctured iris shot.

Infinite pitch black void zoomed,
I vacillated then pitched headlong
(head and knobby knees, over heels)
where skeletons in shuttered closets roomed,
and antithesis of freedom loomed
large (think) cosmic size grand canyon groomed
courtesy the once mighty Mississippi,
now barely a babbling brook in places

espouses, and cloisters unbridled wedded bliss
till after honeymoon, than couple fumed
one accusing the other of infidelity
absolute zero witnessed crime of passion
lifeless bodies in shallow grave entombed
after violent retribution forensic experts
determine homicide after lovely bones exhumed
shotgun marriage from getgo doomed
structured sound of silence boomed.

Against the wishes of slumbering wife,
the following I nonetheless narrated,
to you how she temporarily held
yours truly check (mated),
thus eternal salvation sought
at healing waters of Lake Woebegone
repurposed conscious being
to experience sanguine mood linkedin
attending high school reunion
ridding hypocrisy, modesty,
and travesty initially I hibernated
away from madding crowd
once for all ascending
soul asylum gilded gated

stairway to heaven
consanguinity amidst deceased brethren
impossible mission to discern,
dawdling against inevitable fated
doom, thus I nevertheless equivocated
and bemoaned series of unfortunate events.

Daniel Handler an American writer and musician
best known for his children's series
A Series of Unfortunate Events
and All the Wrong Questions
Lemony Snicket honestly created
salvation blissfully, knowingly belated
and thankfully ameliorated.

At long last doomed existence
finally fancy free and footloose
Earthly afflictions divine creator
severe trials and tribulations let loose
promise body, mind and spirit triage
**** physical, mental, and
spiritual afflictions permanent vamoose
yoked Sisyphean and mephistophelean woe
summoning herculean strength
(mine) to vanquish
courtesy (halloo) gibbet welcome noose
necks stop outer limits analogous cooked goose.

Neither family nor scant friends twill mourn
severance outlook linkedin inextricably forlorn
accursed psychological agony since I got born
incessantly pilloried courtesy bullies hood scorn,
yours truly convenient scapegoat raked over hot coals
preferable versus insidious,
malicious, nefarious, opprobrious

querulous, ridiculous, salacious...
suffering post traumatic stress disorder wartorn
invisible battle scars branded me, yet well worn
shell shocked comfortably numbed skull
(just another brick in the wall)
jimmied heavily inebriated distilled, cracked corn
trumpet silenced (think) muted horn.

Anger at self wells up
regarding passive stance (mine)
convenient akin to jellyfish,
and/or crustaceans without spine
essentially a dorky nerdy wimpy kid
i.e. faulty genetic design
unsure if attributable to Capricorn zodiac sign
essentially allowed, enabled and provided
easy excellent access akin to scavengers to dine

bitter draughts synonymous quaffing quinine
bobble headed, I
meekly, grudgingly, admittedly opine
figuratively forced down gullet - nein
letup liberally heaped upon
courtesy 20/20 hindsight, a tangential pact
with Sue S. Side, promising starvation diet
package deal plus absent I, cant see
(now a tan - gent) unwittingly did cosign.

Infinite pitch black void zoomed,
I vacillated then pitched headlong
(head and knobby knees, over heels)
where skeletons in shuttered closets roomed,
and antithesis of freedom loomed
large (think) cosmic size grand canyon groomed
courtesy the once mighty Mississippi,
now barely a babbling brook in places

espouses, and cloisters unbridled wedded bliss
till after honeymoon, than couple fumed
one accusing the other of infidelity
absolute zero witnessed crime of passion
lifeless bodies in shallow grave entombed
after violent retribution forensic experts
determine homicide after lovely bones exhumed
shotgun marriage from getgo doomed
structured sound of silence boomed.

Against the wishes of slumbering wife,
the following I nonetheless narrated,
to you how she temporarily held
yours truly check (mated),
thus eternal salvation sought
at healing waters of Lake Woebegone
repurposed conscious being
to experience sanguine mood linkedin
attending high school reunion
ridding hypocrisy, modesty,
and travesty initially I hibernated
away from madding crowd
once for all ascending
soul asylum gilded gated

stairway to heaven
consanguinity amidst deceased brethren
impossible mission to discern,
dawdling against inevitable fated
doom, thus I nevertheless equivocated
and bemoaned series of unfortunate events.

Daniel Handler an American writer and musician
best known for his children's series
A Series of Unfortunate Events
and All the Wrong Questions
Lemony Snicket honestly created
salvation blissfully, knowingly belated
and thankfully ameliorated.

At long last doomed existence
finally fancy free and footloose
Earthly afflictions divine creator
severe trials and tribulations let loose
promise body, mind and spirit triage
**** physical, mental, and
spiritual afflictions permanent vamoose
yoked Sisyphean and mephistophelean woe
summoning herculean strength
(mine) to vanquish
courtesy (halloo) gibbet welcome noose
necks stop outer limits analogous cooked goose.

Neither family nor scant friends twill mourn
severance outlook linkedin inextricably forlorn
accursed psychological agony since I got born
incessantly pilloried courtesy bullies hood scorn,
yours truly convenient scapegoat raked over hot coals
preferable versus insidious,
malicious, nefarious, opprobrious

querulous, ridiculous, salacious...
suffering post traumatic stress disorder wartorn
invisible battle scars branded me, yet well worn
shell shocked comfortably numbed skull
(just another brick in the wall)
jimmied heavily inebriated distilled, cracked corn
trumpet silenced (think) muted horn.

Anger at self wells up
regarding passive stance (mine)
convenient akin to jellyfish,
and/or crustaceans without spine
essentially a dorky nerdy wimpy kid
i.e. faulty genetic design
unsure if attributable to Capricorn zodiac sign
essentially allowed, enabled and provided
easy excellent access akin to scavengers to dine

bitter draughts synonymous quaffing quinine
bobble headed, I
meekly, grudgingly, admittedly opine
figuratively forced down gullet - nein
letup liberally heaped upon
courtesy 20/20 hindsight, a tangential pact
with Sue S. Side, promising starvation diet
package deal plus absent I, cant see
(now a tan - gent) unwittingly did cosign.

tonight October  25th, 2022
terrifically summarily requoting

poetic outdated iteration,
I share the following lines
echoing in the valley
of love and delight.
courtesy 20/20 hindsight
October twenty fifth
two thousand and twenty two
admirable, corrigible, fallible,
and intelligible light

hearted fella (amazingly
gracefully aging
baby boomer) usually polite
doth not trend toward
superficial nor trite,
neither can yours truly
said to abide by beliefs, ethos
ideologies, et cetera notions characterized
as distinctly black and white.

Ostrich (I stretch) literary creativity
with Rhea yule wordplay
(mine metaphorical putty) enjoys
shape shifting rules
of English language
casting them bon voyage
analogous to loosing a hot air balloon
never knowing literary
endeavor (mine) outcome
unpredictable as wind
doth form sand dune

farfetch'd jimmied physique
peculiarly genetically hewn
no avian expert, yet
sports wide whirled
webbed analogous to loon
yours truly at heart,
an honest to dog poltroon
acquired pipes, whereat
ofttimes I (a fool on the hill)
sing out of tune.

No idea when predilection arose
to toy with said mother tongue
frequently buzzfeeding me passion,
I rend toward proclivity
maketh anonymous reader to doze
gibberish spews gobbledygook
which kooky logophile doth expose,
where gobbledygook profusely flows
gushing out imaginary hose
frequently diverging off course

pertaining to poem title
which (reading between
the roaring lines) here
sought to delineate highs and lows
regarding squandered (particularly
linkedin with female)
friendship opportunities aye sip pose
jangling this beau zoe
from head to his gnarly
webbed whirled wide toes.

I don't mean to engender pity
excruciatingly socially withdrawn
garnered alienation since birth
regarding human bonds, which dearth
all thru these three score plus three years
athwart planet (unfit) ness Earth
teetering in the balance
pregnant around equatorial girth
found yours truly figuratively
tied to mother's apron string,
I always felt safe and secure,
within home and hearth
even when Scottish welcome matt

yanked away by those who begot me,
now in retrospect ability
to muster mirth
within savage dime
a dozen verbal lashings
(courtesy mama and papa,
the former long since deceased
and latter (upon original date of this poem)
declining nonagenarian respectfully
their sole male offspring
ironically now here at petticoat juncture
amidst swath of rolling green acres
during mein kampf
distills their overlooked worth.

Shying eye contact, I vaguely recollect
Matthew Scott Harris
as wee lad did disappoint
way back during second grade lunch
at Eagleville Elementary School,
a pretty girl christened Renee
(if memory serves me correctly)
induced writhing and foaming
incoherent sounds of silence
indubitably witnessed yours truly
an extremely shy boy
hiding behind makeshift barrier
(possibly tartan patterned lunchbox)
to avoid at all costs
painful penetrating piercing
inducing me to look askance.

As an extremely shy kid
(lacking benefit of powdermilk biscuits)
even briefest eye contact with lovely lass
sent extreme agitation
coursing thru measly frame
wreaking emotional/psychological distress
(visit repeated aforementioned
refrain ad nauseum)
recurring without letup
boyhood to young adulthood,
when within close proximity
attractive gal froze mine functionality
even with intent to exchange passing "hello."

Fast forward to recent past
i.e. namely second half of bleak existence
angst oozed and profusely did bleed,
when ability to bolster daring deed
communicating amorousness awkwardly freed
potential foolishness or embarrassment,
I shushed inner voice of amplified reason,
side stepping preservation,
aye did not heed
boot blurted out juvenile

barenaked lady desires indeed
spelling repugnance and con seeded
instant ruination against fulfilling
hormonal secretion need
wanting to escape utter fool hardiness
beating hasty retreat
(think tail between legs)
ruffly at thoroughly bred dog  
with mile a minute
tail a wagging uber speed!