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ConnectHook Feb 2017
Hi-fructose drama-nation (AKA Plebeia Ovulation-Jones), clad in a rumpled football shirt and golden sweatpants, rolled her bovine eyes, burped, then plunged into battle in the Walmart parking lot. Overweightia U.S, looking on, gestured rudely while blabbing on her phone.  America herself, standing by, talked loudly, swiveling her fat neck around with a menacing gesticulation involving her two-and-a-half-inch poisonous green fake fingernails studded with tiny rhinestones in the shape of well-known designer logos. Witnesses claimed that the altercation started when America could not find her own thong, which was lost between mountains of cellulite-rippled sweaty rolls of flesh. Splendor Obeeze, her BFF, trying to get America away from the fight scene, mooed like a feral heifer, then barked at her ex, who proceeded to taunt her while filming with his I-phone:
      Woo ooh-ooh baby Ima get wit chu den do like u cause we rollin, rollin...
Plebeia suddenly snarled at her 3 year-old daughter strapped into a car seat to leave her **** alone and then re-entered the store where she proceeded to sing to herself in the brassiere section until she bumped into her 4th toddler's baby-daddy who was mumbling into his thick beard RE tha lightweight herb he smoked wif his boy as he checked his text messages for  the freestyle lyrics by "L'il Murgatroid". The entire affair ended badly when Plebeia spilled corn-dog flavored popsicle powder all over America's thong-retrieval device. WW IV warning apps were triggered. They beeped, were ignored, failed and then were deleted. No one shouted World Staaar—u see dat? Oh shiiiittt !!
Plebeia O-J was oblivious, in any case, and strode boldly into the Walmart pharmacy section as the predatory drones prophesied in Revelation were released from the bottomless pit by Abaddon, Lord of destruction. Fabulously overweight as well, I was, nonetheless, underwhelmed by the thong itself, when it was finally retrieved from the depths of America's rumpled sweatpants, on the buttocks of which was emblazoned the final terrible message:  PINK UNIVERSITY   BITE ME.
⛧ ☃ ☠ ☮ ☯ ☢ ✌  
Walmart Absurdist Theater
Reality TV Show
✿ ⚥ ♻ ⚱ ⛓ ☮ ⚔
Sara Jakke Oct 2013
Ashes rained down on the fields
As fire rises
Nature has no shields
The elements' surprises
With declining yields

The valley of ashes
Where the sun shined
The planet crashes
Where the moon aligned
Life flashes

The world is ours
I hate humans
Make money buy cars
I hate humans
Get drunk battle scars
I hate humans
Oh, just watch the stars
I hate humans

I'm not one to stereotype
Did it for the rhyme
Smoking from the peace pipe
Feeling sublime
All we got is time
They say we got time

Deforestation
Exploitation
Marriage of children before their first ovulation
Predation
Degradation
Taxation
Starvation
I am dreaming of salvation

The world is ours
I hate humans
Make money buy cars
I hate humans
Get drunk battle scars
I hate humans
Oh, just watch the stars
I hate humans

My story's pretty sad
I'd love to stay and chat
But the world is just a rabbit hat
Oppressed women in Chad
Why so negative, it is not only mad
One finds beauty behind the evil mask
Its only one life you had
Thomas W Case Apr 2023
There's a passion that burns
within me that's never
more alive, than when I'm
In the garden.
And in the garden of
love, my favorite
flowers are the tulips.

They're especially inviting
after a bottle of Chianti
on a hot July night, with
John Coltrane seductively
blowing from the CD player.

Equally captivating, is the little
bud that lies North of the
tulips.  And with the right
amount of attention, the little
bud, the pea in the pod, creates
a nectar of the gods that tastes
sweet, like honey to my soul,
like maple syrup to my spirit,
a heavenly sap that flows like
the beer on tap at an
all you can drink club.
Like Dylan Thomas at a
pub in Wales, my heart sails drunk on the tulip's fine wine.
And then like magic it occurs,
when ovulation yearns for
procreation, and on those nights,
On those nights...
I could spend forever in
the tulips.
Sven Stears Aug 2013
I wanted to eat you alive with my heart,
Disseminate my love for you,
soul coughing a Heimlich dance routine
that struggled to keep us one.

You were to busy ignoring the coward
that kept me alive
to see the bravery fighting chance
and drawing curtains against fate

There was feeling in these young bones
where the medicine was make believe,
all sugar coated fiery tales to drive us to the well,
wishers of hope forgot that love is an effort.

Liars will tell you that there is just one,
and that one and one is one, and I too,
will lie to you but only to keep the placebos
sweet jesus if you knew the truth.

There's a colourful cobweb
I tangled round us
And yeah, I'd take the floor away,
if it would keep you falling for me.

There is not a thing I wouldn't do
to keep the demons from your door
And the wolves in docile dream states
Nodding yes to your every request.

But Memory lane is no place to build a future,
Lets move past all the haunted houses
and build the home from more than cards
glued together with coffee stains.

Fits of laughter and pits of passion
litter landscapes of love in foreign places
where speaking in tongues
becomes common language.

Blissfully aware of our ignorance
We turned a blind eye to status chorus,
breathing freeform jazz into
independent harmonies,

Shards of Shotgun Showers
Add bass to blissful dreams,
A sense of the real, reeling us in,
A foundation shaken in eternal sin,

As the sax plays us out,
its a standing ovulation,
that keeps us on course,
encores are for failures, and things that... stop.
Maria Mitea May 2022
april,
full pink moon,
it snowed yesterday, and still today
many
many clouds of light, like a

statue

i wonder if the light remembers itself,
if the moon knows when it's called  (by nasa) the supermoon  or the pale moon,
when it brings frost, rain,
*******,
ovulation
if it takes any credits,

last week at the corner of my house the storm ripped apart half a tree,
does it remember where?
does it remember the putrefied roots, dry branches blown by the wind,
does it remember the one that still fights,

i look out the window,

the cat jumps from branch to branch, plays with the blue jays,
who memorizes who? initially, it seems, that the cat is provoking the birds,
squatting on a thicker branch awaits the next move,
i have my moments too,
i understand, the truth never barks,
and does not caress you like a kind mother
it also doesn't  kiss you where you want to be kissed

for thousands of years,

it is rumored that many know it, but
the raw reality is that truth is autistic,
the gifted child
genuinely likes the same food, the same road, the same coat,  color,
stops at the red pass when is green, it simply knows what is right,
like a donkey clings to the same people,
roars at the same gate,

it is the only one equipped with the kick under the belt,
it  hits the careless on the scruff,
the rest on the forehead, in the belly,
it hits with a  fist,  feet,  or sledgehammer, like a rumble of  thunder,  a bomb,
it bites by the ear, by the nose,
it's mike tyson,  the greatest puncher of all time,

despite it all

net theater, all kinds of reinvented creatures, weird characters talking about the belt,
they want to abort it and  flutter it on the (right) cheek of jeofrrey de peyrac,
more than likely, to cover the cracks in the palace of culture (the experts
explaining: it is an adaptation response to fresh rehabilitation),

no joke

the truth has nothing to do with adaptation, those in  trend, the saviors of the world,
a boomerang doesn't know about smart people, bullies, or others…

a boomerang is a boomerang

try to make a bow from a boomerang, or a parachute
and you'll have princess diana's headache on her  wedding day; migraine sweet migraine
cancer, brain tumors,
titmouse constipation, broken teeth on TV,
viol in viol, - in,

i don't want to write about what I have  in mind,
i know nothing (tell yourself: big deal), and
i don't want to wash my brain with your memorized truth

*
reality is much harsher than a halloween decorated pumpkin,
when memory mocks you
every morning you wake up smaller and smaller
a shrimp,
stretching back and forth like tasteless chewing gum
promising
hailstones solidified between tangible and inaccessible
free play up and down the column
abandoned (does not mean we are free from mistakes, and responsibilities)
whether we happen or not, all that is not only ours
here or there we are bubble-to-bubble
missing
the freedom with respect to destiny
...
but how about the parrot?
when the truth happens like the full moon, live
în pink flesh
once a month
ones a year,
per century,
once in the millennium
...
Heather Moon Feb 2015
\\\\\_------/////////



Sitting in the blue-grey stillness

Of my bathroom

Temperature set to make a perfect

balance

between hot and cold.

Except I am leaning on the cold side,

Prickly hairs.



Porcelain bowls,

cupids, angels,

catholic saints,

preasthood,



Angelic ivory

white

toilet bowl

Stained with our animal ****

Over time creating cracks

Of filthy streaks

Just like

how humans carve into

the Earth,

Denying our birth,

Killing our worth,

By overstuffing

our girth

To hide our

true nature.


Ivory bowl

I have just released my blood to you

Blood of my ancestors

Sacred blood

Blood pasted down

in this lineage.

Deep, deep

womb blood


Blood of mistakes.

Blood of stupid conversations and lies

I lived.


Blood of my dear dear
Precious baby

Blood of shame

Further ingrained

Into this white ivory
perfection.

Blood of the savage within me

Crying to break out

While I stand stout

And pull my bow

Tighter and tighter

Sharpen the peaks

Of my fake smile.

I'm happy

I'm happy

I'm normal, normal,
Normal!!!

While inside drums cry

To be beaten

Battles rage on

in explosive contemplation

My bodies ovulation

Of fertile

Formation
....
Then the immunization
..

I try to move to the beat of the nation

But it's a boring station

Feeling my souls frustration

With this numbing radiation.

The baby in my body wails

I am NOT(!!!!)
To be born
To a ship that
fails
The sails.


I am sitting on this

Cloy toilet bowl,

a mirage of all that's wrong

Ring wrought

Fought

rung wrong

Throughout me.

I've been living so long

Killing my song

Killing my dear
Sweet, sweet baby


Hiding demons behind flesh

An obsess

to hide the less

Only ever the best

The best, best,
Best, Best!!


And now I sit,

In porcelain stillness

A full release of the wild woman
woven deep in my bones and blood


Now I sit

Smothering myself

in the mud

I was born in.

Once too ashamed to accept the actuality

of this physical form.


Now I sit


In the silence after
The storm.


Miscarriages, miconceptions
Flopped contraceptions
Illusions, lost directions


Miscarriage means:

a foiled outcome

Of something planned,

Lost dreams,

So strongly bound

Into my bone.

Now I'm feeling

Alone.

They say you must be empty to be free...


Pulling the scattered pieces

Off of the wall

Reshaping after

The fall

Courage. Courage.Courage
COURAGE!!!!


Courageous heart

How I let you fall apart


I'm here

I'm now

I'm ready

to grow

Run free
run strong

And let blossom

The seeds
you sow.


--thank you--
.. sweet blood..

.
Mandi Wolfe Nov 2019
There once was a tiny bundle of cells that grew in my womb
without the assistance of fertility medications or ovulation testing
a surprise spontaneous occurrence of the first sparks of Life
a product of the kind of ******* that happens on a honeymoon
between newlyweds full of bliss, lust, and hope

My womb once thought uninhabitable to such an occurrence
boarded a plane home five days later
cradling this new truth-
The Honeymoon Baby

Weeks would pass before my womb would begin to betray its secret
3 days late- nothing
5 days late- nothing
8 days late- the little blue plus sign and a whisper from deep in me-
“You aren’t broken?”

For several hours my womb and I jealously guarded this knowledge
My new husband not known for his enthusiasm wouldn’t share in my joy
So I sat alone feeding my hungry heart on now debunked beliefs
“You AREN’T broken!”

Having gorged myself to the point of bursting on a meal years in the making
I looked with wet eyes to my then partner of more than half a decade
“we made a honeymoon baby; I’m not broken.”
No, he wouldn’t share my joy.

His eyes turned to windows in the days that would follow
They screamed their disgust into the wide open parts of me
as pointedly and with as much passion as his mouth could ever muster
It was then that I began to silently pray the baby away

My silence only increased his vitriol until with a blast he climaxed in his rage
and I felt the cold of the recently adorned wedding band against my neck
as the hands which had held mine so softly so often pinned me to the door
Finally my silent prayers gave way to a singular scream
“I ******* hate you and I hate your child inside of me!”

My womb cried to hear the prayer spoken
She cried so long and so loud that she began to bleed
She heaved and sobbed her rage into rivers of blood that wouldn’t stop for weeks
and earthquakes of cramps that would rock me to my core
The unstoppable current of tears and blood carried the translucent sac
that housed the had been Honeymoon Baby into the ***** porcelain bowl
The baby I prayed away that would never speak whispered up
“You are broken.”

The honeymoon was over.
I hadn’t hated him before that.
Six years later to the day we signed divorce papers.
Lucy Tonic Dec 2011
A woman’s sin
Can cause earthquakes,
Mudslides and hurricanes
Woman is subservient
To these tornados,
Tsunamis and storms
It’s in her nature
For chaos to reign
Trying so hard to be good
Fighting what’s innate
Woman is a *****,
A Madonna
A crying mother
Shifting like a chameleon
Woman yearns to be filled
Woman clings to despair
That unravels like a favorite worn shirt
Woman has devil in her genes
But is powerless to change
Fighting a losing battle
Woman needs attention,
Unbreakable pact of trust
Cause man is not tied nor bound by
Monthly bleeding, ovulation
Man destroys pain with reason
Man’s undivided mind leaves
No room for guilt
Man is ego in the moment
Yearning to stay hungry
Man grieves until the moment disappears
Loving the anonymous body
Lacking the ability to understand the mind
Man wants to expose what needs hiding
Man treks the land but fears the sound
Of acorns falling on a roof
Man recognizes there’s more to Eden
Than the garden
Man seeks to tame nature
But regeneration and rebirth rule
An only woman can assist this
As our toes spread out like tree roots
And ghosts sway in the branches
We’re reminded by the deer, the fox, the raven-
Chaos reigns
And nature blooms as it corrupts
ConnectHook May 2018
Ain't no cracka-*** Russian gone touch MY **** growled Plebeia as she filed her rhinestone-studded fake fingernails to a deadly edge. She rolled her enormous seething mass to the edge of the sofa and glared, like a feral heifer, at the massive TV screen from which Vladimir P. beamed forth like an avatar of Orthodoxy.
Y'all betta shut yo' punk-*** mouth, ***** howled Plebeia.
All y'all Russian girls so **** UGLY Ima hafta *** me some shades so don't hafta SEE dat nasty ****.
Plebeia then gathered her senatorial notes and prepared to present the accusations at the Russian collusion hearings.
My homegirl be crushin the illusion of Russian collusion.
(as imagined by this lumpenproletariat)

When no bigger then innocuous,
     ** hum, happy go lucky
     generic black whole
     sonny and cher full pinhead size zit,
thine pluperfect promising
     mysterious seat of pants whodunnit

     wordlessly wise wedded
     waywardness writ partly apportioned,
     thru totally tubular fluted circumcised
test tossed truly valued throned
     kingdom come emancipation *******,
     released special ops assigned prickly role

     donning spermatozoa swimsuit
owning papas hurtling
     traversing repertoire,
     noteworthy inherent pistol unit
flesh gun firing off biologic
     gum-shun reproductive script,

within zygote, sans courtesy
     squirt of flagellating
     fostering nanobyte superior vicesquad
     programmed fed tidbit,
stalwart sea men meted brooked shield
Dickensian gonadal mutual friend,

     whence gamete extolled finesse,
     (yet tubby revealed
     many a chromosomal trait)
     didst undergird uber reproductive
     up the down staircase
     reinforced by microscopic balustrade,

     yielding one ova Eggland's Best soffit
     rendering (unto Cesaer...)
     **** like magic fusion,
     whereby exiting fallopian tube
     deposition met fertilization,
     hence embryonic initiation

     wrought wondrous ultimately vibrant blastocyst
     triggered uterine settlement,
     ripely channeling
     tree men das transition
signaling ovulation to taper off,
    yet not entirely quit

fertilization triggered secretion,
     analogous quasi
     pollination process, qua gossiped
     biochemical romantic tidbit
     activated via powerful
     ****** popgun "hello kitty" visit,

milky dollop hormone
     exquisite in utero exposition,
     human female body electric
     generated chorionic gonadotrophin (hCG),
official warrant issued
     drafting subsequent surfeit

secretion spured double helix spin off
     flawlessly choreographed
     following impregnation,
     whereby molecular sized blueprints
amazingly graceful processes
     promulgated propensities

     prospecting proven
     (survival of the fittest) atavistic properties
     concentrated subatomic activity
engendered secure ankh cur,
     where wick keel lee reader rabbit
burrowed within amniotic

     filled sac didst outwait
nine month journey,
     a real swell gambit
for mother and child,
     thence bundle of joy
     exited birth canal.
Kewayne Wadley Oct 2016
There loomed a certain belief,
One that exhaled soon as she passed.
A sudden urge that fizzed over soon as the bottle opened.
Now granted you can still drink a soda once it's shaken
Most would replace desire for that of another, the discord
Of being splashed in the face by the very desire one in the same.
Drops of truth splashed everywhere seen as backlash, a sort of wrath
Spoken but never heard.
There was something about the contour of the bottle,
Fixed thoughts filled in ovulation.
Everything kept inside.
A certain vengeance that loomed in bliss.
If not handled carefully doom was immanent.
Each time she walked passed he'd shake the bottle more vigorously.
A cold fizz that quenches every desire steadfast with reality.
Curious he looked at the bottle, wanting to quench this need
He placed his hands on the top slowly unscrewing.
Her eyes connected with his, everything paused.
For the first time in a long time everything was beautiful
Sharing a brief look relaxing his shoulders.
He untwisted the top, for a moment she sighed
Feeling a release she hasn't felt in a long time.
His hand smooth against the contour of the bottle
He placed his lips against the bottle easing her to quench this thirst he's waited so long for.
This urge that dried the well of his throat.
She refused him the pleasure of her, keeping her fizz to herself.
Now he knows what it's like to be on the outside looking in
Joe Bradley Aug 2017
The furrows are drying
in a woodlouse summer.
Each quiet year proves
they were inexpertly dug.

Empty eye sockets
the flowerbeds shrivel
and each tulip bulb is just
a useless *******.

Earthworks crumble into riverbanks,
the defective rock
dances bed-ward.
The clay browns the water.

In the dusty corridors of sunlight
we are the balled up
little hedgehog
late for the earthworm

and the screen-saver, bouncing
but never touching the corner.
I’ve sat dumb and still as
words dwindle on a screen.

Somewhere else hands delve
into crowns of sticky, soaked poppy.
Wet and soft they stink
of sugar.

Liberated calves with
liberated hoofs gambol in mud
and rough tongues
curl on apple picking fingers.

Slugs glisten
With fairy-tale arrogance.
Happy and fat in a giant’s
vegetable patch.

Somewhere else the smell of low-tide
isn’t a crusting of salt,
seagulls, ******* and
a reminder of torpid shallows

but profound ovulation.
Nesting puffins, shearwaters,
an ocean view cottage.
Shepard’s peachy sky.

Summer is willing. Keep calm.
Count her freckles.
I’ve walked through the forest
seen hearts in trees.

Bark grows, gold stars roll
and the guileless acolyte,
not hungry but dry
bends over a keyboard

and counts an orchard’s
wealth in slushy apples.
Mud and sand on the carpet.
Eyes sticky and red. Not black.
Shay Sep 2018
sundays are for embracing
the gift of being able to
create life
in our wombs
even though
we missed that opportunity
during the fertile week
of ovulation
so on sundays we weep
and on sundays we bleed
and on sundays we keep
the heat
pressed against our bellies
and I’ll remember this poem
every 28 days
to remind myself of the magic
I am able to create
amongst my thighs
quinn silverman Mar 2018
killing girls quickly, that’s ur kink
u love the smell of it
flowers placed in my infant hands

why don’t u talk to my dog
i knew u were evil then
sweaty rot down my back
leftover from where u touched me

in the corner of my eye at my local FoodLion
tracking the scent of my ovulation
u follow me, i’m only a damsel
spit pooling on ur lip
still hungry i’ve already fed u

don’t touch me
u texted me “<3”
that’s when ur ***** started showing
i’m pretending to b happy
covering my needy mouth
i hate the way men make me feel, they want me to seem helpless, or like i’m being stalked.
animals attained angst amongst anvils
beautifully bound bruises bought
crimson crown crushed
collision course
calamity
defeats
down
dots
do
in
jean jacket
jewelrys jaded
kneading knots
knowing lots
leanining
learns
little
more more more
many more means
motivated keenly
necessities never needed
notions numbing numbers
obviously overriding ovaries
ovulation opens opal orion
questions quickly quest
questions
relevancy
resembles
rioting
roots
to
the
table
ta­lking
telepathic
tumbler
tiring
toes
under
unbiblical
unification­
vicariously
victory
veins
xy
an
s
?

















...
..
.
alpha
...
..
.
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Psychic glockenspiels come from western civilization to steely dilation
The sun may rise and the Swede's dreams looking for hindsight and elation
A cinema mon amour, the compensation spreads like their legs on ovulation, it's Ninotchka's dilemma with fornication
Firstborn of the soft-core **** of the thorny copulating, and yonder lying in waiting till you're a ne'er zaftig
First-form soothsayers, and strides of samba spies salivating with charm, you're a tinsel town in the maelstrom
Lick your lips, and lickety-split, you're in the instigation of salacious mating
Of a **** of minor, and crime of a major elemental nature, you'll get sentencing from the abyss of vultures
Dylan Mcconnell Jan 2018
About animals, abortion, and abilities
About bouquets, Buddhism, and bilious people.
About cats, cars, and caring about others.
About depression, death, and the process of dying.
About eating disorders, evil step-mothers, and ecstasy.
About fattiness, fear(s), and the trait of being friendly.
About goats, ghosts, and greetings in different countries.
About happiness, healthy diets, and humanitarian rights.
About intimacy, icicles, and igloos.
About jack-in-the-boxes, the juvenile system, and justified ******.
About kindness, kissing, and kitties.
About love, living, and ladies.
About moms, mediocrity, and medicine.
About no meaning no, feeling naked, and nature.
About ovulation, October, and court orders.
About periods, peskiness, and perverts.
About quirks, queerness, and qualifying for college.
About ****, razors, and reading.
About ***, Sudafed, and scandals.
About taxi drivers, tables and what they hold, along with thoughts
About UW-Madison, unfortunate circumstances, and unemployment.
About vehicles, valuable objects, and violence.
About waistlines, waitressing, and what a waste of time homework is.
About xylophones, xanax, and xanthous.
About you, younglings, and yellow flowers.
About zoos, zanies, and zaps.
Just help for writers block.
Satsih Verma May 2017
This was a circle
which broke.

Like a ****** death,
like an eternal sleep,
like living on the dark floor of the lake.

There was no ovulation.
Earth has stopped brooding.

Submerged in quicksand
you cannot breathe,
after hurting yourself.

Do not go in the mirrors.
The fog was your friend.

Pick up the leaves, the
leaves fallen from the lone tree.
You become the seed.
(conceived while in utero
which loosely summarization in toto
of this ordinary Joe Schmoe,
who did wade nine months for a roe
at mercy of obstetricians status quo,

giving me a jump start to blend pro
pen city utilizing both a very small oboe,
and comination cross bow
either plucking or shooting from off
     umbilical cord mocks nocks notched arrow.
          
Biological copulation draws, etches, fashions
genesis hewing, inscribing jeweled kismet,
legislating miraculous novitiate officiating
poignant outcome quintessential reproduction
seminarians theological universal vocalization

whittling ** xy yearning zealously, zestfully
aggregating begotten cell diminutive elementary
fecund gametes glommed gooey honied
insulated joined kindled live miniscule netizen
outlook plenti qualified readied simulacrum

thrumming undifferentiated voiceless wisp,
xpert yin/yang zygote (adroit bitcoin currency)
describing extemporaneous fusion generates
hormonal influx juices kickstarting life

manifold natural occurrence pregnancy
quilts rudimentary secrete tapestry until vicar
wizard yields zealous adorable biological
concatenation, derivative extrapolated

filigreed ****** helped induce jointly
knotted linkedin minecraft nascent
ovulation presaging quintessential
reproduction, sharing trimesters, umbilical
venerated womb yearning Zen.

Amazing baby, credit deoxyribonucleic
acid, enigma fantastically grand husband
injected jetted klatch, leaving microscopic
nothings, opportunistically pierced quarters,
readied shutterfly trap, ****** vibrantly
welded x2c yoked Zappa.

A bun cooks definitive enchilada, formula
generations hardy induce jimmied kin,
labored maternal newborn, one pricked
queue, randiness spurred ****** ubiquitously,
voyaged whimpering xing yelper zings.

Adoration bequeathed commencing doting
eyeing, fondling, giving heartfelt infusion
joyus kindred living momentous novel
offspring perpetrate quickening rapport

subjected treatment unequivically validates
wonderful Xit yolking bearable delivery
fostering  heavenly joy kneading,
legitimizing, masterminding nascent

ontogenesis pacifying quivering reverentially
terminating viability, where yips align  
crying embryo finis gestating heralding
jubilant loving natural parental reverence.

Reality inundates the full term off
spring upon a lifelong journey (initially as a
foreigner sans in utero), but willfulness viz
life source secures survivor against pinging

peccadilloes learning by trial and error to iron
out kinks as one among the human league
since modus operandi transcend encumbrances
triggers built in impetus to traverse potential

pitfalls along the space/time continuum trajectory
which adversity only serves to net greater strength
since that instantaneous and spontaneous bitmap
encoded upon conception.
sandra wyllie Oct 2018
Another Fifteen

Exhausted, chasing little people all day at the
Small Fry nursery school made me want to come home
and take a nap in the afternoon. The second job I wasn’t on my feet, working behind a desk. Typing on a keyboard until my long,

polished nails chipped. Fifteen pounds added on, hugged
my already curvy hips. But it was fun dressing up in
skirts and high-heeled shoes, fancy blouses with silk buttons, and wearing perfume. When the lay-offs came I stayed home

all day, peering into my refrigerator out of boredom. I put
another fifteen pounds on. And added to the last fifteen, I looked like a pudgy, Italian girl all of five foot two in bare feet,
with no shoes. This is when I switched from skirts to sweet-pants

and long tees  that covered my derrière, almost down
to my knees. I was trying to get pregnant. But my ovulation was
off.  So I went to the fertility doctor. And he gave me some drugs that put another fifteen pounds more on my already-tudball

frame. I was ecstatic; after two cycles I got pregnant! Went and bought baby furniture and cleared out a room. But it wasn’t meant to be and I miscarried. I dove into a deep depression over losing baby Sarah, and ballooned up to one-hundred and seventy-five,

after yet another fifteen pounds were added to my hide. I wouldn’t leave the house. No one saw me that fat. On my small frame I looked a mountain and felt as a wide-end Mack. No one believes me when they see me today how much I struggled with my weight.
(conceived while in utero
which loosely summarization in toto
of this ordinary Joe Schmoe,
who did wade nine months for a roe
at mercy of obstetricians status quo,

giving me a jump start to blend pro
pen city utilizing both a very small oboe,
and combination cross bow
either plucking or shooting from off
umbilical cord mocks nocks notched arrow.
          
Biological copulation draws, etches, fashions
genesis hewing, inscribing jeweled kismet,
legislating miraculous novitiate officiating
poignant outcome quintessential reproduction
seminarians theological universal vocalization

whittling ** xy yearning zealously, zestfully
aggregating begotten cell diminutive elementary
fecund gametes glommed gooey honied
insulated joined kindled live miniscule netizen
outlook plenti qualified readied simulacrum

thrumming undifferentiated voiceless wisp,
xpert yin/yang zygote (adroit bitcoin currency)
describing extemporaneous fusion generates
hormonal influx juices kickstarting life

manifold natural occurrence pregnancy
quilts rudimentary secrete tapestry until vicar
wizard yields zealous adorable biological
concatenation, derivative extrapolated

filigreed ****** helped induce jointly
knotted linkedin minecraft nascent
ovulation presaging quintessential
reproduction, sharing trimesters, umbilical
venerated womb yearning Zen.

Amazing baby, credit deoxyribonucleic
acid, enigma fantastically grand husband
injected jetted klatch, leaving microscopic
nothings, opportunistically pierced quarters,
readied shutterfly trap, ****** vibrantly
welded x2c yoked Zapped.

A bun cooks definitive enchilada, formula
generations hardy induce jimmied kin,
labored maternal newborn, one pricked
queue, randiness spurred ****** ubiquitously,
voyaged whimpering xing yelper zings.

Adoration bequeathed commencing doting
eyeing, fondling, giving heartfelt infusion
joyus kindred living momentous novel
offspring perpetrate quickening rapport

subjected treatment unequivocally validates
wonderful Xit yolking bearable delivery
fostering  heavenly joy kneading,
legitimizing, masterminding nascent

ontogenesis pacifying quivering reverentially
terminating viability, where yips align  
crying embryo finis gestating heralding
jubilant loving natural parental reverence.

Reality inundates the full term offspring
embarks upon a lifelong journey (initially as  
foreigner sans in utero), but willfulness viz
life source secures survivor against pinging

peccadilloes learning by trial and error to iron
out kinks as one among the human league
since modus operandi transcend encumbrances
triggers built in impetus to traverse potential

pitfalls along the space/time continuum trajectory
which adversity only serves to net greater strength
since that instantaneous and spontaneous bitmap
encoded upon conception.
Greek mythological
drama flourishes,
nee thrives within
noggin of yours truly
gods and goddesses
sporting Hellenic origins

purportedly cavort
higgledy-piggledy
rampantly running ragged
ruminative raconteur
resultant rueful end product
wreckage of present day me

chafing amidst yesteryear's adversities
shadow boxing doppelganger nemesis
fetus in fetu maintaining stranglehold
choking ability to breathe
unsuccessful roundup eradication
resultant mailer daemons

ruling the roost
time and again professional
therapy exorcised futility
psyche plagued with said
crudely sketched hobgoblins
permanently lodged within

fifty plus shades gray matter
mein kampf analogous to siege
and/or civil war
abductor and hostage
terrorist versus negotiators
one and the same person

ideal fecund environment
irresistible nasty brutes
unwilling to forsake
golden opportunity
passive languishing helpless
antisocial bumbling creature

mandate decreed heir extinguished
sentenced eventually commuted
life without parole lifetime
metaphorically imprisoned harsh
punishment solitary confinement
crime synonymous equalled

chance happenstance ovulation
nsync with seminal linkedin
fertilization, impregnation, parturition
essentially random appalling dice throw
courtesy biological roulette

automatic defacto malefactor
abstractly describes lifelong
condemnation, humiliation, ostracization
hence if nothing else
no shortage writing material.
Yours truly issuing a deafening rebel yell
bursting forth with such might
courtesy cooking under pressure
analogous to volcanic upswell,
forcing me quickly to flap vestigial wings
(at the speed of sound)
while simultaneously karaoking William Tell

overture apple lied courtesy top of the line
supra-aural ('over the ear') headphones
since altruistic anonymous
philanthropist gifted me
I bought the most expensive,
which enveloped me
analogous to pumpkin shell

essentially vacuum or void created
hands free contraption
settled, and kick/jump started,
and bathed noggin
silencing external cacophony,
whereby virtual realm didst quell
chaos assaulting, bombarding,

and enfilading sixty
plus shades of gray matter
like bats out of hell
swarming infidel locked alone in his cell,
who notified beefy warden,
he (the prisoner) wanted sustenance
by wantonly ringing a cowbell.

Out of wedlock philanderer
condemned did breed
tasting verboten fruits thee did buzzfeed,
when clear as water requisite
Nicene dance creed
deemed out of compliance
heinous née violation
in sum re: siring offspring
necessitates extreme unction
viz hits fallen into utter adulterer disgrace

before pledging one's troth
analogous to insubordination
thus life sentence decreed
blithely humming along
riding ******* (qua absent prophylactics
during heat of the moment) abomination
begetting children deprived; freed
spermatophytes liquidated
courtesy ***** goat ****
before sanctified nuptial coda agreed
registers as fate worse

than hearing one's death knell
from deep within the bowels of Earth,
yet now I play the devil's advocate,
and claim what more precious miracle than
experiencing (namely participating)
planting seeds of life within womb
allowing, enabling, and providing
deliberate propagation ideally
of healthy human species
warranting ******* when ovulation
most favorable to fertilization.

Rumspringa extant within/
without Amish youth world wide
impossible mission despite
scriptural strictures rightly stride
to put a lid on libidinal drive
analogous to holding back the tide viz
celibacy as restraint against
pang of **** ought best be granted liberty,
an emerging truth nationwide
a state of concupiscent nature
whether hetero or homosexual
one beast of burden an adolescent
ought not be forced to hide
similar to severe imposition of apartheid.

Once union of two
sexually latent human beings
looses gametes, which
unsurprisingly yield zygote
when without absolute zero
doubt pregnancy occurs
gravid state cannot be
shrugged off nor ignored.

No matter whether precocious post pubescents,
or legally aged coupled partners
salient proactive investment measures wise
such as ultrasound signaling healthy gestation
validation of impending motherhood
constituting testing blood for hCG results
in earliest detection of pregnancy
subsequently witnessing barenaked lady
exhibiting maternal physiological transformations
courtesy haploid gametes
rendering woman with child,
whereby abdominal area balloons in girth.

Only twenty two days after conception
or five weeks and one day gestation,
the embryo's heart starts beating
ultrasound evinces whooshing sound
triggering perceptible unsuppressed mirth

Prenatal visits also important precaution
to keep tabs on presence of vital signs
of unborn baby.

In chorionic villus sampling CVS,
a sample of tissue is taken from the placenta.
The main advantage
of having CVS over amniocentesis?
CVS is done earlier than amniocentesis,
between 10 and 13 weeks of pregnancy.
The chance of miscarriage with CVS
slightly higher than chance
of miscarriage with amniocentesis.
Anomalous earthling inhabited
mancave quarantined
cocooned gamesomely
knowingly protected travesty
impossible mission sidestepping,
thwarting, zapping
eventuality, inevitability,

opportunity utilitarian death
crowning glory fêted within
netherlands immortality
granted courtesy biological
proliferation offspring re
vitalizing, restoring,
requenching spent human lives.

Self sequestration commenced
instant (karma) fertilization set
narration mein kampf within
womb mommy dearest,
she within prime ovulation age
begat me in utero un-
aware how existential crisis
(mine) linkedin metaphor

whereat sanctity housing
yours truly during embryonic
/fetal development + vital
placental lifeline keyed into
present day self (christened
Matthew Scott Harris) still
analogously tethers (as
iterated above) outward adult.

He considers metamorphosis
child to adult incomplete
early during carefree preschool
boyhood heavenly bliss
short lived spunky spontaneity
squelched after first grade
February 28th, 1968 marked
turning point pronouncing
significant psychological

cleavage figuratively pitched
emotional, mental, and
spiritual withdrawal symptomatic
psyche quashed, torqued,
and wrenched full blown cycle
logical gearshift hijacked,
though undoubtedly propensity
inherent since... birth
genetic/chromosomal aberration.

Especially when fatherhood
food me gifted with beauty
full daughter diagnosed at
tender age developmental delay
within asperger's syndrome
thankfully Shana Punim, (a
person's face endearment
appellation - chiefly in Jewish
use) eligible recipient

to receive early onset supportive
services, which initial diagnosis
undertaken within her
first birthday, thus staunching
immense struggles later.
Supportive services incorporated
battery audiological, cognitive,
emotive... tests to help pinpoint diagnosis.
She underwent cost free

(needs based) therapy - most
times resistant and noncooperative
(nonresponsive) to
engage whole heartedly,
but bonding with facilitators
wrought budding relationship
with concomitant trust.
Participation with therapists
and class/campmates (the

latter structured summer programs
pertinent as she evinced
able bodied/minded
to benefit with stepped up
socialization (interpersonal
interaction - or lack thereof)
immediately apparent as preschooler,
but got bolstered
thru confidence building activities.

All thru k-12th grade
our cherished progeny
benefitted being streamlined with
classwork (and take home)
assignments custom tailored,
plus after school
remedial programs boosted flagging
shortcomings allowing,
enabling, and providing laudable

transformations, whereby
she began (to assert herself in
making major decisions),
now at age twenty one (born
February 4th, 1999) lives
with few housemates in Bend,
Oregon while matriculating
at nearby Community College.
ConnectHook Apr 24
Ready for any feminist feat
In her ****-tube and starry skirt,
Wonder-Woman looks petite
(though probably ought to don a shirt)
In, fact we’d better make her black
Before her foes, unhinged, attack . . .

Go-go boots show off her legs
Muscled for emancipation;
And for bearing wonder-eggs
Through empowered ovulation.
Binary gender’s warrior queen
Bursts forth upon our sexist scene,

And bristling with the strength of ten
Of her not-so wondrous sisters,
She centers red-starred crown, and then
She’s off to fight the truth’s resisters:
Rosie the Riveter’s better half—
An old-school feminist sacred calf.
NaPoWriMo 2024
Prompt #23:
write a poem about, or involving, a superhero
Thomas W Case Feb 2020
I dreamed I was
in an
old
dilapidated house.
It was like a cave with
red brick walls.
The paint was
peeling.
It smelled
like loneliness and
Ovulation.
I was with
a woman (maybe an ex.)
And
she cried (big turtle tears.)
And said,
"Don't hate me."  (She was leaving.)
I was drinking;
not drunk,
but liquid smooth.
For some reason, I was
going to
Chicago, to live on
the streets (it was my destiny, my plight.)
And I thought, **** that,
I don't want
to go to
Chicago (all that concrete and crime.)
So I sat there
and
watched the red
paint peel,
and
although the cave
was warm and moist,
it was unfit to
live in.
I said to myself,
I'll go to
the woods,
and live, write
**** small mammals
and eat them (thanks Thoreau.)
I ascended the
stairs to tell
the woman about
my epiphany.
(Beethoven's Ode to Joy was playing in my head.)
She was mock
sleeping, waiting.
I said,
"I'm going to the woods to live and write."
She pulled the
covers off,
exposing all that
impossible
magic,
and said,
"Make love to me
one
last time."
I was glad for
that
and
sad that she
was leaving,
ambivalent,
but
mostly
I was glad.

****!
I woke up.
No woods.
No ***.
Sometimes,
the pain is
so raw
it's like
food poisoning
or
like a little grey
squirrel biting at
my intestines.
orchestration, and utilization,
a moss fungi (fun guy) attests his marriage
synonymous with symbiotic relationship.

Nostalgic acquiescence about fictitious life,
oblivescence about current travails
and reminiscence about
transcendence into utopia
prompts me to revisit livingsocial,
now that yours truly
among the grateful dead.

As a saprophyte,
the missus buzzfeeds off me lovely bones
once plump with excess adipose tissue
otherwise known as body fat,
a connective tissue
that extends throughout body electric
found under your skin (subcutaneous fat),
between your internal organs (visceral fat)
and even in the inner cavities of bones
(bone marrow adipose tissue).

Over the ensuing two score and ten years
after pledging our troth, the missus
(opposed with a vehemence
keeping her maiden name,
or even acquiescing
maintaining surname
with hyphae fun nation),
and yours truly at one time or another
from the day we met
until the present moment

invariably, intolerantly, intimately,
intentionally, intemperately, insultingly,
insufficiently, insidiously, insincerely,
insensitively, insensibly, inscrutably,
inquietly, injuriously, inhospitably,
inharmoniously, infuriatingly, infernally,
inexorably, ineffably, indubitably,
indescribably, indelibly, incredibly,
increasingly, incessantly, incalculably,
ineluctably molded unnamed spouse.

Truth be told, the grudging acceptance to wed
made indirectly and courtesy
unbeknownst and linkedin
to our unborn eldest daughter
about four months in utero,
when marriage date chosen
July twenty fifth nineteen ninety six
since yours truly and my then girlfriend
abstained from birth control
tantamount to playing Russian roulette,
and decided to let natural insemination
trigger conception between
twelve and twenty four hours after ovulation.

Neither of us the least bit prepared
economically nor emotionally,
which urge to procreate
superseded sense and sensibility,
and in retrospect,
I readily admit flagrant
negligent ****** recklessness
(no matter physical ******* monogamous),
and an adamant refusal to use prophylactic
or more commonly known as ******.

Though excited to sow seminal seeds of life
a panic stricken state afflicted me,
when consensual concurrence
to consummate copulation occurred,
nevertheless ecstasy at potential fatherhood
brought courtesy the resultant
unexpected positive result
yielded from pregnancy kit.

Back in the day libidinal longing
(in my pinion) wracked ****
of accursed celibate
Norwegian bachelor farmer wannabe,
where merest suggestion
of ******* thoughts
hounded doggone muttering
dove head lettered man
all the way to Antioch
feverish pitch I could not block
found mine doodling ****
to crow night and day
without let up to dock
****** solitude a worse fate
than therapy zapping gray matter
with wave after wave oven electroshock,
a divine sterling erectile rod
hoping gallivanting frisky felines would flock.

— The End —