If you want to feel
As the poet feels,
Don't hold her hand;
Pick up his pen.

If you want to hear
A poet speak,
Don't listen to him;
Read her lips.

If you want to see
As the poet sees,
Don't look to his eyes,
But see with her's.

To smell like a poet,
Splash in the rain,
Dance dry in the sun;
Follow your nose.

But get an inkling
In your mind,
Deaf, mute or blind;
Find your center,
Sit with it.

I oftimes get a sense of it.

The crickets jump...! The crickets hop...!
Chirping in the dark, they won't stop...
Telling me where they are and where they're not
But they are not there, when I reach the spot.
Little crickets, the chirps you make -
Oftimes your location is faked!
Where are you? Along the long grass I look - ;
I just want to give you a gentle stroke.
Little crickets, you're such a tease!
You jump! Then you ride on the breeze...
You sing thro' the night, on a summer day;
I listen to your song from far away.

I oftimes write
To ensure I still can.
Ergo. This.

Never is the sky always bright,
Without dark clouds that bring the rain;
And never is life all delight,
Without suffering, sorrow or pain.

I know not how I’m to thank you
For everything that you’ve taught me;
You regard me as I the dew
Altho’ I love you most keenly.

Oh! Give me the key to your heart;
Oh! Tell me how you can be moved;
Or teach me how to make a start;
Whisper how I should my love prove.

Oftimes on you I contemplate:
A statue towering sky high –
Thro’ marble naught can penetrate;
Its inmost thoughts none can espy.

Death becomes himself

He climbs, ivy finger'd
On the shadowy rise
Death drives His chariot
Drawn by stallions on fire

Oftimes He approaches
Silent, on velvety hooves
Toying with his prey
As the cat teases wool

Perhaps His indulgence
The warnings first sound
Foreseeing the inevitable
The fall to the ground

But I
Refuse.

Not yet
Mr. Death
Not yet

I will fight your marching
At every advance
And battle you out
To the last stance

That you will know as you claim
The remains of my earthen hide
That I have fully worn it out
Well before you arrived

I like bugs, rocks, and the color of mud
Earthy critters who scratch and plod their way up my spine
Your walls were lovely to talk to
and disembodied hands may be comparably so to hold
But I did not dare move to do so

I’d sing soliloquies for your amusement
I’d transcribe your affections,
Better than you or I could ever feel them
So frangible and infrequent
Yet blazes like the Eternal Flame,
Your windows verdant and of the Earth;
a mane of ribboned russet
Your bow is steadied with precision
Whose compass surely does not need or require me
Nor mine yours

You must be fond of honey hair that twists and turns
and splattered spots uncorrelated
Scattered across the face
Plump lips that pose in anticipation
For words spoken in jest and sincerity
Oftimes conflate and converge
Conceive a certainty two would only know
Should they only recognize in a mirrored flame

Both deny and protest but surely
Both magnetic and bewitched by the other
In a fashion that is both sinful and edifying
Subscribing to no particular Sect or Order
But this imperceptible tug is a religion of itself is it not?
The feeling of enlightenment and the fervor
Is unlike any one thing experienced by men and Devils alike
Feverish and decelerate,
It is a slow and radiant burn
Such assumptions may feel erroneous and presumptive
But unquestionable at your core nonetheless;

Maybe suffering from days long since gone by will
Collapse any hope I have to have you
You said you rarely get what you want
So let me give it you

Because you have ****** yourself  
You have made yourself a prophet,
and so it shall be self-fulfilling
I imagine that you’ll never have it
Perhaps a ship whose voyage is lulled,
slow and shallow
will wash onto your shore,
tired and hungry you will feed it
As it takes from you
So you don’t have to feel as much or as affectingly
As I make you feel, with roots so entangled and abyssal
This I have known, because I am inclined similarly
Just as two positives will never meet,
Just as Endymion and Selene,
Gods of the Moon and Sun
Cursed to orbit and never elope

I have been orbited and have revolved around,
But never loved or in love; so I wonder
If it would consume us or hurl us forward
Into a void of which there is no escape
Instead of ruminating on what may
Giving into it and surrendering

Never experiencing the frailty
Of something that touches one’s essence
For fear of being changed forever

To the Sun,
it is more convenient to love the Clouds,
and the Moon
better suited to love the Sea,
because they may touch more closely

And never wonder what could be.

Analogous to black box
holding untold secrets,
(after deadly plane crash
no survivors except
a journeyman foreigner),
I share the following self
introspection with ye dear readers,
which purported hidden truths
might set me free and clear,
albeit laborious effort

to loose constituent amalgamated
compound elements unmined
tantamount to agony
riddling psyche effort to extract
thorny matters incumbent upon me
analogously synonymous with
Androcles and the lion
think Roman mythology
whoops (Greek: Ἀνδροκλῆς,
alternatively spelled Androclus in Latin).

Oftimes methinks... whoami
spending scores of years
with frustrated sigh
hermetically sealing - waxed body electric
housing generic garden variety guy
as prepubescent severely, physically,
mentally emotionally tormented
contemplating, foregoing existence,
integrating, blithely urging wish to die
even at this moment,

still doth not reluctantly shy
away to embrace death wholeheartedly
simultaneously, naturally nor would I try
putting anonymous life (mine)
on the line, though...,
nevertheless envisioning rejoicing
(as told to significant other -
the missus naturally averse
to my demise well nigh)
without ability to explain why

per se if mortal ailment
truncated corporeal constituent
collective comprising mein kampf
Noel cowardly lie,
cuz becoming gratefully dead try
not to laugh while
yours truly cannot deny
permanent absence mine decoupling
from humanity, no longer linkedin
with consciousness, I recognize

hard skool of knocks alumni
soul finally free to roam spiritual realm
posthumously making his name sake
(synonymous with introvertedness)
deceased modest mortal hallowed human,
though the foregone feted occasion
beholds mine future
no longer entwined with the missus,
whence cessation as breathing being
decades into the future

whereby mine cremated ashes  
subsequently scattered across
reconstituted secluded terrain
once expanse of one hundred acre woodland
populated with poo poo ticky tacky,
about a half century ago
partitioned into cookie cutter
vinyl city occupying happy hunting grounds
witnessing abundant flora and fauna,
where Glen Elm estate

(an expansive demesne
formerly occupied by the Leipers) razed;
within corner abode
(at crossroads of Stoughton and Level Roads)
wherein dwelled Williams family
(offspring grown and senior citizens,  
the eldest daughter
happily residing in Carhibeg,
Rosscarberry county Cork Ireland)
to me, a garden variety generic guy
forsaken atrophied opportunity

loosed, whisked, and zapped...
toward sheltering sky
linkedin love never did transpire,
hence moot point absent wedding bells
did not require men to don black tie,
only selfish sexagenarian
mourns angst peppered soul,
whence death do me part
banshee will signify
all quiet on western front forever reunify
me with cosmic consciousness eternal ally.

Forlorn; bereft of golden
(slippered) opportunities I weep;
Three score and four years
replete with mailer daemons,
hence mindset adrip
with self denouncing expletive filled bleep
unwritten expressed recriminations
wielded upon figurative head of wimpy blip;
decades elapsed at light speed clip
as the world turned days of mein kampf

exhibited slow psychologically
torturous analogous intravenous slow drip
during emerging adulthood
approximately half life of mine,
when yours truly painstakingly
besotted with unrequited love
accursed extreme introvertedness
severely hobbled coping ability
gifted at birth with congenital weakness
mama's boy lacked ways and means
integrating himself among peers,

no supportive services to equip
shy lonely lad devoid of fellowship
palmar hyperhidrosis affected slippery grip
in tandem with being diminutive
aiming to experience childhood's end forever
son of a gun flailed with dating later in life
compromising, forsaking, and issuing
counter productively undermining
potential heterosexual relationships
invariably shooting from the hip.

Eight different prescription medications
allow umpteen combinations to yield
against bombardment that fate doth wield
delivered, signed and sealed
courtesy the grim reaper
able, eager, ready and willing
to maneuver across pitted minefield
accessing exiled soul whisking same
to idyllic place named Edenfield.

Oftimes methinks how cessation to breathe
spirit buoyed aloft, where garlands wreath
to escape hell on Earth,
where neurosis and psychosis seethe
within mine sixty plus shades of gray matter
symbiotically flourishing at expense of sanity
case in point being:
anxiety/ panic attacks
obsessive compulsive behavior,
schizoid personality disorder,

long in the tooth fellow
his sustenance similar to pablum
constituting imperial diet of worms
of the Holy Roman Empire -
called by Emperor Charles V
fit for grown baby,
especially when removing dentures
cuz he must resort to eat soft foods
unless by some miracle I teethe
for the second time.

Homegrown destructive force
muscles, tussles, wrestles,
et cetera within me
likened to (but separate from) Intifada,
(thus no insinuation this wordsmith
linkedin to any militant group)
grips mine soul asylum,
a recalcitrant doppelganger
within windmills of my mind
doth insidiously, poisonously,
and unpleasantly drum
palpably affecting writer
of these words to feel glum.

No respite whether I repose
in deep slumber or lightly awake
inescapable melancholic woes
haunts these lonely bones,
whereby system of the down
houses reticent persona constituent feature
characterized courtesy anhedonia
linkedin with passive suicidal ideation
accentuated when severe crisis erupt
analogous to smoldering volcano.

Fortunate for me the missus keenly aware
plus (despite every now and again
contention between us),
she makes crystal clear
communicating her displeasure
mixed with genuine fear
bantering deadpanning facetiously
gallows humor I half heartedly asseverate
gibberish spouting jargoneer
gravely alarms wife helpless to orienteer

conversation away from my demise,
thus figuratively switch horses
in mid stream and jockey
to calm her down
and lightening verbal exchange
by ******* from the waist down
revealing laughing stock of skinny legs
(easily mistaken for spindleshanks)
poking thru underwear
charging on imaginary steed

feigning being loco
despite NOT smoking ****,
energetic cavorting courtesy
nursing high test coffee,
nevertheless ineffective battling fatigue
despite flitting to and fro,
hither and yon bumbling along
(skeletal) joints of mine smoking hot
suddenly after sipping strong brew,
I temporarily shuck off lethargy

long enough break to out dancing
while simultaneously overtaken
to sing a song of sixpence
while wings flutter at the speed of sound
buzzfeed appetite for consumption
Ecclesiastical History of the English People,
one of our best-written sources
for early English history
authored by Venerable Bede.

courtesy third person singular.

Mise en scène pour décès
pardon his feeble attempt at French,
a unilingual English language
quibbling, and scribbling mensch
strongly advises applying
left handed monkey wrench,
which custom designed tool
assigned impossible mission
to discern sense and sensibility
regarding following poetic thread
subject of a fool's errand.

Mein kampf witnessed, punctuated,
and evinced courtesy final breath
automatically triggering (tumblr
to activate) final curtain call
and unremarkable death.

As stipulated in the living will
cremation of his lifeless body
cremated into soft gray powder.

A prerecorded hashtagged obituary
downloaded to individual smartphones
and simultaneously appeared on
the following poetry websites:
COSMOFUNNEL, Hello Poetry,
Neopoet, My Poetic Side, Poetry Soup,
PoetryNook, PoetryVibe, Prose|
A community of readers and writers,
and All Poetry.

He hesitated and lost out
on game of life big time
even fumbling crafting reasonable rhyme
noshing, spending, and whiling
inordinate amount of hours
squirreled away in his bedroom
surrounding himself with reading material.

He amassed fountainhead of knowledge
quietly engorging cerebral gray matter
whereat noggin swelled up
rivaling globe, but Atlas shrugged
at him, whose head
resembled the first Chinese brother
who swallowed the sea.

Odd his voracious appetite
to buzzfeed with one
after another binary byte
zealous precocity to engross himself
with storied reading material
that does extremely excite
(at the expense of healthy socialization)
where his imagination took flight,
nevertheless myopic eyes of his

did glean insight
keeping his button nose
between pages of choice morsels
to appease hunger
keeping himself awake
drinking high test coffee
during darkness aided by jacklight
processing meaty material with might
experiencing abundant, exultant,

intoxicant, over-extravagant
joie de vivre day or night,
a balm, elixir, inebriate... quite
the panacea to abet emotional incapacitation
which entails crafting poems
oftimes spending efforts
with efforts undertaking rewrite
unwittingly garnering a fanbase
courtesy ideology doth unite.

The regressive Supreme Court decision
hustled, proclaimed, and voiced
June 24th, 2022
immediately quashing pro choice option,
struck down constitutional right
(upheld for half a century -
formerly allowing, enabling and providing
the muliebrous population
access to secure and safe abortion)
and sent a chill into the air.

A woman of childbearing age
within the United States trade
risk seeking abortion if she
unwittingly finds herself pregnant
resorting to desperate measures
sans mortality written
courtesy blood and gore costly paid
for ownership of body electric
autonomy usurped to choose abortion,

especially females representing
low income statistic,
whose chaotic, frantic, hectic..., existence
quite unlike bucolic, idyllic, poetic
lifestyle exemplified, exhibited, and exuded
by Thomas Kinkade
impossible (aery) mission
to buzzfeed another mouth
hence unlucky gal
now faces criminal charges,
whereat strong arm of the law
one lass unable to evade.

Despite being an older
long haired pencil necked geek male,
(a genetic product
of the baby boomer generation)
albeit one dazed and confused man,
whose body resembles
a miniature lead zeppelin
I a baby boomer guy
always inclined toward
remaining aforementioned gender,

nevertheless can empathise
with red hot poker anger
fecund women most likely experience,
when in the heat of passion
birth control measures vehemently
even non verbally overruled,
when an aggressive partner
thwarts such rational precautions
exerting patriarchal *******
loosing abundant seminal fluid
with deliberate intent to impregnate.

Many instances abound,
(since time immemorial)
whereby linkedin couples
ardently, fervently, maddeningly
strive to beget offspring
and thus shuck off
the application regarding
accessing, kickstarting, wielding
invocation of divine spirit,
thus their ****** relations

forfeit applying prophylactics,
oftimes feeling down and out
when biological fertilization
breeds despair, grief, mourning...
yet no sooner does adoption
appear as the last best hope
the maternal hormonal gonadal
secretion agency, propensity, viscosity....
and quirky unpredictability,
where unsuspecting latent virility
to procreate ironically occurs.

The missus asked me
(hitherto known as her bozo)
just mere moments ago
to craft humorous poem to glow
nsync with the shiny nose of Rudolph
keeping syncopated metrical flow
thus methought to crow
about being equally as foolish
streaking naked outside at five below
so without further here I go
rattling off gibberish as common Joe
King cole, a merry old soul...
dirt poor, hence without any dough
to embellish endeavor as literary pro,
who also sought to catch eye of Mister Perdue
(yea him of agribusiness fame)
to sacrifice self for New Year's barbecue.

Yours truly repurposed courtesy rigged
easy to assemble cannibalistic spit
with large fig leaf covering puny naughty bit
meekly (née willingly) surrendered
matter of fact, I paid with bitcoin chit
recognized latest currency
ever since legal tender easily susceptible
and oftimes confused as counterfeit
money forged, smelted, and hammered
linkedin with pendulum that swung within pit.

Thus analogous to
Five Chinese brothers immune
yours truly constituted
more'n one secret boon
such fiery flames (hot enough
to melt like molten rock)
could harm not a hair
of one **** sapien baboon
matter fact simian in question
could become swell

think hot air balloon
allowing, enabling and
providing me quick escape
national anthem playing
as most popular tune,
a capella, I simultaneous croon
as hot embers snap, pop, and crackle
token human crisply cooking
taking place at high noon
despite the most ferocious typhoon,
no worry, I defy being drowned

survival skills inherited
sophisticated quirky protozoa
symbiotic eukaryotes
since time immemorial
livingsocial within tight quarters
with not mushroom
to maneuver - oh... hold on,
cuz I will be done lame
reasonable rhyme really soon
ah... just about done
getting cooked the color maroon.

As will be accurately surmised, yours truly trends toward being atypical, basically comical dude, ethically fantastical, generally hemispherically intact, jokingly kooky, linguistically minded, nonestablishmentarian, opportunistic, poetic, quintessentially righteous, sartorially tacky, unpretentiously voluble, wittily xyst, yearningly zestful.

A written account (that incorporates some self directed hyperbole) of this veritable stranger now appears before your screen. Soon after reading this message, the neighbors might discern a blood curdling series of (hyena-like) shrieking screams. No worry. That would just be the mating call of the hairy Harris mama bear.

Ready! Set! Click!

A scary reflection greets me whenever I summon up enough steely courage to take a sneak peek into the mirror. Before the spider lines start to appear across the shiny surface and subsequent cracks and fissures dissolve the glassy surface these deux hazel colored, myopic bespectacled eyes quickly absorb a most frightful countenance and visage.

That near legendary and trademark feature of longish, wavy and brown straggly hair seems to fill the entire view. Hidden among that avant garde rhapsodic bohemian, Cro-Magnon, Neolithic, non-every-man style of un-styled locks (interspersed with silver follicles indicative of acquired worry per fighting off that garden variety prehistoric creature) can be discerned a brutish, nasty and short proto-human with a high forehead, which allows, enables and provides more skin surface to bang against the wall when frustrated.

My somewhat outsize ears and longish neck (I swear exist, which contrary to popular myth never seen by living persons) support this egg shaped (fried or scrambled some might argue) head.

A mostly flat and hairless chest attests to a regular regimen of light (self-concocted) chest-pounding routine. Exercise (as well as meditation) a vital part of my daily program to deal with the ordinary stresses of primitive existence. Coffee happens to be the sole vice, which exotic brews provide that helpful jump-start. I sometimes even chump on the cup to keep these teeth sharp.

Now to that locale known as the ****. Although the unseen forces of biology and genetics dealt me an itsy bitsy, tiny ***** (which serves as the but for fellow Apes to taunt and tease) such anatomical feature offers little value as the worthiness of ****** prowess. This palm pilot sized gluteus Maximus offers one benefit.

Ease to squeeze into tight spaces without getting stuck. This tiny ***** accompanied by a vestigial and teeny-weensy ****** schnitzel of a phallus, which undersized **** a doodle do bulges into an erectile state within shooting distance of that coveted warm, wet and wooly private world property of each and every woman.

A pair of skinny (flamingo like) legs (covered in a adequate hair) now completes this general character sketch.

Does this suffice? After attempting to envision some vague essential apparition or near facsimile of what barely passes muster as a Caucasian male, I wonder if you happen to be less or more favorably disposed toward some healthy interaction of body, mind and spirit.

If not yourself, I wonder if you know if any local cave woman close to unit B44? Maybe great ape as yourself to make grunting noises with me?

Now if you would politely excuse me, I MUST scavenge for some berries, exotic tree bark or that stray small and wild game.

Contact me via banging rocks together asap.

to my long deceased mom...
Harriet Harris née Kuritsky

My mother succumbed to a terminal illness
two score minus three orbitz passed away
no matter she fought tooth and nail
to keep ovarian/uterine cancer at bay
disease metastasized throughout major organs,
hence demise found grim reaper to carry
her Bag of Bones into The Dead Zone -
where Misery loves company
Four Past Midnight
well nigh seventeen
and a half years ago to the day
thus a flash in a bedpan idea flit
thru me mind setting task at hand
to forego bidding on eBay

and ruminate how she felt
knowing her end to be near, -
where her psyche did flay
with anger writhing at the injustice
to ****** thee lover of life
her deadened flesh became ashen gray
yet, a recurring memory
replays in my mind,
whereby this ordinarily
sole sunny trooper
blackened hole within her sons' psych
doth feebly booster morale
with a lame duck uttered hay
huzzah, but flashback to last moment

I saw mother, yet
merely stood mute in close proximity
within the kitchen of thee predominant
century old mansion stone
built home donned with English ivy
once glorious complex edifice
sans domicile razed
no stone left unturned
remains longer only in me noggin
twittering memories flutter
and tweet like a blue jay
keeping visage intact
the house (formerly known as Glen Elm)
at 324 level road,

Collegeville, Pennsylvania -
amazed at my ability to recall an okay
dough key mixed meadow
for with many emotions arising
from where siblings
and me did blessedly play
our oasis, a rural route number 2 -
or rd2 for short a constituent key
per our residence, which like a quay
Tsar seemed light years
removed from civilization,
a remnant tract of idyllic ray

dee hance, upon with open space slated
to become outfitted
and transformed into an urban stay
shin for mobile Americans hopscotching
as short term owners of a new home they
never knew what fractious
mother-son trials and tribulation,
now invisibly harbored and enshrined
forever pristine sanctuary
denominated secular way
down deep in thy conscious, which access
to retrieve nada so

excellent circumstances of youth
(oftimes meditating while dwelling
upon expansive roof
many an outlook raised)
on par with hop, jump,
or skipping to Uruguay
but nothing can recreate
and make real one again
deconstructed house where dwelt pangs
of pre and post adolescence
no matter I mouth
and soundlessly mutter oy vey
till the cows come home,

cuz the days of boyhood,
teenage and emerging adulthood
(matter of fact, this heir -
overstayed his welcome)
accentuated courtesy corrosive
contumely contretemps
thus ambivalent feelings
doth owe way
kin this day of the month
every year the aura, charisma,
and persona delighting like galena zany
persona, thine late mother of pearl

and milk of human kindness
yes, this cingular male offspring doth miss
when he gives pause (all faux),
thus aye scrawl this poetic mini opus
knowing full well,
ye will never be cognizant,
but cathartic to press
any black key (on this laptop)
and expunge thru
Times New Roman font size 12
discombobulated words

buffeted bitta bing bitta bang
in situ jewel flowing emotions
akin to Rapunzel unfurling long tress
buffeted by the war wren inside mine being
for love unspoken, I confess
and tis thru fatherhood
(which beautiful granddaughters
ye would marvel) despite obloquy
when ye and papa de address
me in harsh terms, but objectionable traits
wove within mein kampf DNA less

or more, and angst riddled
body, mind and spirit
rent asunder with emotional duress
essentially encoded within
the twisted sisterly chromosome strands
that wrought Matthew Scott Harris,
now the boss and master
of his own psychological domain,
whereat he closes with mum --
I feel terrible ye got angry and cross!