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JR Morse Sep 2013
this swifter's grift -
lifting loosely
fitted accoutrement

lourden fruit
carelessly held
silkened, gimlet lit
shamelessly rivened
to a paler shade
of need.

solitude's
enchanting seed
may confer
a grander banquet’s call
but, this tug of
grandiloquent oblige
and politesse . . .

master and slave consort
black and scarlet
swift of tongue and fingertip
unbound so neatly
and leather blind



tell me muse of the anger flesh on fire
is there really dignity in defeat
that eludes the victor

tell me muse of the truth in nature
ill-graced tail-lamp broken
is destiny all ways ordained in contradiction

tell me muse do hearts all times submit
to the beacon call
shyness long forgotten
narrative so harshly written

as ne'er before
with an insistence
ageless yearnings bellow  
as but glazened shadow


if reason sleeps
there will be no learning
no refuge
only to each
for their crimes
a four-chambered riddle



All Rights Reserved
James R. Morse, NYC  2013.
"The higher we fly, the smaller we appear to those who cannot."
pitch black god8 Apr 2018
this peculiar notion transmigrates into a startling potion,
one that creates, not slakes human thirst,
a consequential first position for those who are in possess
of a direct line to gods who hide in the pitch black,
perforce one must make discrete deferential inquiries
avec une politesse indirecte

just in case we are wrong

(honest aside:
as composition proceeds, ear buds fill me with
Music of Transmigration, notably Op. 11, of S. Barber making
contradicting souls passing through me tenable and malleable)

naturellment,
loud radio silence, was I naive to expect otherwise?

perhaps god is not the subject of this poem
but perhaps the author(!)  who's
just  keeping his "hand" in the poem game,
spoofing human memes,
with a spot of fun even in
New Z--l-and-other domiciles

after all who has more
nominalistic titles,
is cursed and blessed,
by almost everyone
at least once a day, and in
a thousand different names
with an impishly
cruel sense of what this human gig
it created.
is about

tonight
I am a composer,
tomorrow’s decomposer,
or just a funny named follower

ah,
the answer is in the
data
My very first poem; yay!
I don't stand on formality,
you can call me #8
Nat Lipstadt Nov 2023
~ one more for patty m. ~

slept late after dancing with my devils, from,
from the wee, until a pealing pearl from the Earl of Dawn,
recovering from an intrusion~invasion~brain~regurgitation,
and it’s nearly 9am, sipping my first cuppa Hawaiian,
& woke to a repost of a ten year old wondering plea(1)

makes me think “This old thing,” poem, like a fav
frock/suit that still drapes perfectly, and yet draws the
***** admiration and drippy drawling yummy compliments,
gracefully, gratefully demurred with them three words,
& it’s 8:39am, Bruce pitching in with “Born in the USA”

recipe for a new thank u Gawd poem to make room for
a fast~break diet for an old man with a rebuilt ticker, this
very emission~transmission of a verbal politesse writ going
some where, cooked on a medium slow burner fueling dressed up seeds of heartfelt appreciation made of ancient oat grasses

birthing a poem~child of thanks to the Lawd for one more day,
opportunity, the five sense’s delivery gratitude and gratifications, and the desire to intertwine the sights, music, a crisp blue November Sky, the need to bleed brew these words into a fulfilling,
second moment mug, for the pearls and Earls

of poetic humans


10:01am
Thu Nov 2 2023
(1) Do You Know Why Men Cry in the Bathroom?
Nourrissez votre cœur du feu des charités,
Filles du Fils de l'homme, aux yeux pleins de clartés.
Aimez celle qu'un peuple appelle politesse.
Avant Notre-Seigneur, savoir vivre, qu'était-ce ?
Quelque chose au dehors, mais au fond, presque rien.
Etre civilisé, c'est bien ; poli, très bien ;
La politesse, fleur de l'homme charitable,
Règle notre attitude et rit à notre table,
Et donne un sens exquis aux choses du repas.
Science qui s'apprend, et qui ne s'apprend pas :
Code intime et profond, né dans la quiétude
Du cloître, et dont le monde, après, fit son étude.
L'âme où passa Jésus toujours en garde un pli,
Et c'est encor rester chrétien qu'être poli,
La politesse est reine et fait son doux royaume
Des cœurs purs, c'est un lis royal qui les embaume !
Non celle qui se montre en chapeaux élégants,
Bien qu'un homme se lise aux couleurs de ses gants,
Ni celle qui fatigue, ou bien qui complimente,
Obligée à se taire à moins qu'elle ne mente :
Mais celle-là qui règne avec simplicité,
Qui sait servir le miel pur de la vérité ;
Qui veut laisser chacun ou chacune à sa place,
Qui calme les transports, comme elle rompt la glace.
Parmi les charités, si légères au sol
Qu'elles foulent si peu, que l'on dirait un vol
Timide, à fleur déterre, ou d'ange ou d'hirondelle ;
Au nom des tout petits qui soupent sans chandelle
Sous les arbres, les yeux dans leurs cheveux trop longs,
Et viennent d'Italie avec leurs violons ;
Du vieux joueur de flûte, aux mèches toutes grises,
Et du pauvre, à genoux sur le seuil des églises,
Qui marmotte une antienne ou qui froisse les grains
Du rosaire, à la fête où vont les pèlerins ;
Parmi les charités, porteuses d'escarcelles,
D'un vers reconnaissant je veux célébrer celle
Qui passe en écoutant les plaintes des roseaux,
Et qui donne aux petits comme on donne aux oiseaux !
Fais ton miel admirable, ô reine des abeilles,
Charité, donne encor tes jours, ton cœur, tes veilles ;
Jésus multiplia les poissons et les pains.
Voyez, dans ce palais, dont les plafonds sont peints,
Où les lustres ont plus de branches que les arbres,
Où le peuple des sphinx taillés au cœur des marbres
Garde la cour sonore et les vastes paliers,
Château plein de frontons, d'urnes et de piliers,
Cette royale entant toute belle, qui foule,
Comme un jardin fleuri, l'éloge de la foule !
Eh bien, la charité qui lui parle à mi-voix
Saura lui retirer les bagues de ses doigts,
La perle éclose au coin de son oreille en flamme,
Sa chevelure où rit la gloire de la femme,
Sa chambre où le soleil allonge dans la paix
Sa large griffe d'or sur les tapis épais,
Ses miroirs éclatants, les servantes accortes,
Ce vestibule altier, plein de dessus de portes
Où des gens, dont le vent chiffonne le manteau,
Sont poudrés par Boucher et fardés par Watteau,
Et l'œil de ces bergers diseurs de douces choses,
Les grands vases de fleurs, où Sèvre a peint les roses !
Ses pieds si délicats chaussés de gros souliers,
Sa taille consacrée à d'humbles tabliers,
Sous sa coiffe de tulle et d'épingles légères,
L'enfant ira, parmi les âmes étrangères,
Fermer les yeux des morts, coudre le drap fatal,
Ou, sous les crucifix des murs de l'hôpital,
Au chevet d'un mourant dont la bouche blasphème,
Pour lui dire : « Je suis votre sœur qui vous aime ! »
Cette charité-là se nomme amour divin,
Elle enivre les cœurs, plus forte que le vin.
Père des charités, dont le Père pardonne,
Jésus, ô doux Jésus, pour qu'enfin l'on se donne
À vous, dont on tient l'âme et le cœur que l'on a,
Vous qui changiez en vin l'eau claire de Cana
Qui chantait en entrant sonore au col des vases,
Changez la boue en or dans nos cœurs lourds de vases.
Vous qui rendiez la vue à ceux dont les bâtons
Tâtent le pied des murs, nous marchons à tâtons,
Et nous sommes des sourds, et la pierre est pareille
À nous. Maître, mettez le doigt sur notre oreille !
Vous, dont l'ordre, au soleil qui sur le peuple luit,
Tirait Lazare blanc des brunies de la nuit,
Seigneur, ressuscitez aussi nos cœurs de roche,
S'il est vrai, ô Seigneur, que votre règne approche !
Il est certains esprits d'un naturel hargneux
Qui toujours ont besoin de guerre ;
Ils aiment à piquer, se plaisent à déplaire,
Et montrent pour cela des talents merveilleux.
Quant à moi, je les fuis sans cesse,
Eussent-ils tous les dons et tous les attributs :
J'y veux de l'indulgence ou de la politesse ;
C'est la parure des vertus.
Un hérisson, qu'une tracasserie
Avait forcé de quitter sa patrie,
Dans un grand terrier de lapins
Vint porter sa misanthropie.
Il leur conta ses longs chagrins,
Contre ses ennemis exhala bien sa bile,
Et finit par prier les hôtes souterrains
De vouloir lui donner asile.
Volontiers, lui dit le doyen :
Nous sommes bonnes gens, nous vivons comme frères,
Et nous ne connaissons ni le tien ni le mien ;
Tout est commun ici : nos plus grandes affaires
Sont d'aller, dès l'aube du jour,
Brouter le serpolet, jouer sur l'herbe tendre :
Chacun, pendant ce temps, sentinelle à son tour,
Veille sur le chasseur qui voudrait nous surprendre ;
S'il l'aperçoit, il frappe, et nous voilà blottis.
Avec nos femmes, nos petits,
Dans la gaîté, dans la concorde,
Nous passons les instants que le ciel nous accorde.
Souvent ils sont prompts à finir ;
Les panneaux, les furets, abrègent notre vie,
Raison de plus pour en jouir.
Du moins par l'amitié, l'amour et le plaisir,
Autant qu'elle a duré nous l'avons embellie :
Telle est notre philosophie.
Si cela vous convient, demeurez avec nous,
Et soyez de la colonie ;
Sinon, faites l'honneur à notre compagnie
D'accepter à dîner, puis retournez chez vous.
À ce discours plein de sagesse,
Le hérisson repart qu'il sera trop heureux
De passer ses jours avec eux.
Alors chaque lapin s'empresse
D'imiter l'honnête doyen
Et de lui faire politesse.
Jusques au soir tout alla bien.
Mais lorsqu'après souper la troupe réunie
Se mit à deviser des affaires du temps,
Le hérisson de ses piquants
Blesse un jeune lapin. Doucement, je vous prie,
Lui dit le père de l'enfant.
Le hérisson, se retournant,
En pique deux, puis trois, et puis un quatrième.
On murmure, on se fâche, on l'entoure en grondant.
Messieurs, s'écria-t-il, mon regret est extrême ;
Il faut me le passer, je suis ainsi bâti,
Et je ne puis pas me refondre.
Ma foi, dit le doyen, en ce cas, mon ami,
Tu peux aller te faire tondre.
an earlier draft of this barely satisfactory missive ex post facto, i chomped asper with upper dentures upon evincing a couple of typographical errors, in up rye or draft, and did not wanna dodge being a spell bound stickler for typing words correctly.

though no obligation to trot out this fixation sans zero misspelling tolerance, a compulsion with any concomitant obsession found me reposting before a repast of dessert - so there Ghost of Marie Antoinette, wherever you might be hiding - i can have my cake and eat it too!

Minus trimmings and over stuffed ego freezers,
but altruism, civility, Dharma *** ethnocentrism,
gratuitous homogeneous internationalism,
karma mosaic opportunism, quitessential righteousness,
unpretentious vivacious wide world yipping,

brouhaha dutifully emphasizing friendliness,
antithetically booing critical, popularly pugnacious
spoiled trump petting uber western yikyak,
zealous antipathy craving everything.
---------------------------------------------------------
a hypothetical, mental, rhetorical thought question
   occurred to me just moments ago
sans, milk of human kindness bubbles frothily
   upon major American holiday,

   whereat figurative bro
   thar and sisters exhibit philanthropic ambitions
   especially, towards indigent that crow
for bare necessities

   other than
   when Thanksgiving rolls around, and dough
nuts to dollars even most frugal misanthropes
   play feigned charitable card egoistically glow
with ambient benevolence, civility,
   diligent energy, and friendly hello

and sundry pleasant greetings
   hook hood be some
   soon tubby rich entrepreneurial stranger
   ready to make shares available vis a vis  IPO

   to dirt poor anonymous guarillas G.I. Jane or G.I. Joe
   who cross paths with each other,
   even those one doth not know
when ordinary biases, callousness,

   denigration...doth full low
out the mouths of hoity toity MainLiners
   towards working class people - mow
awe less trying to remain financially afloat,
   and with plea for handout
   would receive an emphatic NO!

Thee exception to unspoken aristocratic rule
   arising on feted buzz
   feed ding occasions where oboe
players invoke cobra to deliver riches galore to the 'po

whom sincerely show gratitutde,
   yet wonder why status quo
reserves select calendrical dates for handouts
   proffered after standing in a row
of similarly bereft individuals aware at stark

   outpouring overt nurture minded, humanity
   (with perchance a guest appearance by Sean Hannity),
this public denouement,
   an atypical venue for his television show

where generosity spills forth
   from said personality and others alike
blithely, demonstrably, fortuitously, happily,
   jubilantly, lovingly, modestly, poignantly,
   where an announcer speaks thru a mike

to open their doors and hearts asper,
   those down and out
   pushing belongings along the pea king pike
of broken tureens with
   only a mangy dog as companionship,

and though I admit tubby hyperbolical,
   hypocritical, hypothetical hypoteneuse of hippopotamus
   no charity less valuable then self and spouse,
   whom both experience spike
in anxiety since net income purportedly
   below the poverty level, though we reside

   within subsidized housing (outliers
   here at 2 Highland Manor Drive),
   yet random acts of an effortless smile,
   cordial greeting to passersby, or
   waving fellow drivers right of way,
Page Number Three:

such minimally polite services today,
the most within my limited monetary hi say
means, which behavior aye strive ray
   dee to maintain zero cost politesse, which doth pay
highest dividends, which reciprocal acknowledge may
be the greatest reward,

   whether or not a response elicited tis quite o kay
the satisfaction arising breeching comfort zone
   viz exposure therapy lighting up gray
matter analogous to a cerebral Christmas tree
   and any regret avoided, asper congenial efforts    
   generate “hi” kickstarts my day.
Breon May 2018
Down where the ocean drowned another day,
Where silver shards of moonlight coalesce
As salt-spray rushes up and falls away
Like laughter, murmured out with a caress,
A dreamed-up Venus wreathed in seafoam light
Steps lively, dancing lonesome on the strand.
Capricious in her shroud of murdered light:
The sea-witch calls a lover from the land
'Til, tangled all together in the neath,
Adrift in trance below the rolling waves,
Eyes meet, then hands, then lips. Why stop to breathe?
Her siren-song calls out to passion's slaves
And once the sea's crescendo drowns out dread,
She snares a heart and makes it hers instead.
Wrapped close enough to strangle, clinging tight
To every curve, each shifting of the tide
As if the midnight moon drowned politesse
To crush together spite and searing lust:
A tempest in a bruise-black dancing dress:
No pity for her prey, ****** dry, left dust.
I dreamed her laughter and her wicked grin
And barely dragged myself, with stifled scream
From drowning in that sweet, voracious sin -
And waking, I grew desperate to dream.
Eternity I spent all piece by piece
'Til, blinded by the darkness, I could slip
Beyond the cruel moon and find release
In Venus, and perfection in her lips.
Revisiting a recent theme. If I belabor this, it's because it belabors me.
Joyous rapture awoke sleeping animalistic giant:
carnal, feral, gonadal horniness in deed, when defiant

this primate crossed figurative
   paths with a stunning woman
older than a spring chicken freed
   via ma hen nah paws van
jealous (of casual suitors),
when I figuratively crossed urban
paths with delectable dame.

   This hedonistic mwm veritable tan
tin nab buell lay shun caged in rein
   mister experienced euphoric San
ta Claus gifted encounter merely
   approached a female stranger ran
king as absolutely beautiful asper
   Samson recounted Delilah, Qan

i.e. qualification assurance notification
   within this poetic blurb. Pan
dum money yum (does not come close)
   upon entering a nan
oh meter times a gazillion equals
   scope of super sized ALDI's, every man
woman, and child could be housed.

   This supermarket (anchored lan
did at one end of a string of bungle
   low slung businesses conveniently kan
struck ted adjacent to popular stores,
   which aligned buildings a haven come Jan
ewe weary, these newly constructed
   bricks and mortal portals along Ian

eyesed, seen as primary corridor
   i.e. Ridge Pike (linkedin with Han
sill and Gretel recently rural gingerbread
   cookie cutter communities). Gan
a mead by Jove, said affordably priced
   food store noticed as a fan
tass tick location along the driver side
   heading towards Limerick, ean
at dark hours within Pennsylvania).

   This patron (me) of aforementioned Dan
dee nofrills modestly priced franchise
   espied an available card soon after Can
Nudda entered this outsize place
   to buy groceries. Another shopper (a bon ban
Joe plucky strung string apetite
   slip sans attractive gracefully aged gal) anan

entered said market seconds later,
   and dye motioned (to her) as she sigh
lent lee reached same idle sturdy cart,
   which ordinarily requires a quarter to pry
loose from a train of chained property.
   I unthinkingly, reflexively, and blithely my
deferred politesse she took possession of cart.

   Within instantaneous affirmation je
nais sais quais consent given for her
   to load groceries in sought after cart, this guy
noir got fast impression immediately formed,
   whereby visually this chic chica to die
for spurred enticement as very pleasing
   Halloween eye candy, hence desirable allie

madamoiselle in question totally tubularly
   unaware of lovelorn spate. Minutes before
tardy reaction (and perfect comeback
   ex post facto) momentarily preoccupied chore
viz reviewing mental check list, my intent
   to act with courage and acknowledge a door
quick to close.  Her (unbeknownst)
   attractiveness to me. Upon inadvertently
   froze me like Eeyore

glancing at thee beautiful doll female human,
   an aggregate of positivity arose. That four
tut hood toward slender youthful looking chica
   figuratively took my breath away. She galore
re: us lee ranked topnotch on my register
   of aesthetic delight. Thus, while this jackfrosted ****
frosted flake ambled up and down aisles,
   an aim sought to relay pleasant physiology while Igor
Stravinsky – Flight of the Bumblebee buzz

   within every square inch of my anatomy bon jour
quivered with cockiness, covetousness,
   and craveness without resorting to Dumble Da lore
for guidance, hence indecorous, impetuous,
   or idolatrousness loosed rampant as more
consideration asper jimmying bold, daring do
   hounded (Lo and Behold) luck did not ig nor.
A nod in answer to prayer ready set terrific
   wonderful chance arose pondering how to mine ore

and coax a major outcome addressing this ambition,
   which unceasingly pecked, piqued, dirt poor
**** lee  pricked thy noggin about sudden revelation
   presence pretty lady Upon quor
tar number of minutes passed,
   whereat her increasing proximity, an unflagging score
begging akin to patriotic duty and appeasement
   sans uttering a compliment recognized roar
ring optimal (once in a solar eclipse) chance
   to corral, field, and invoke latent obligation that tore
per regaling unknown xwoman a dollop gratutity.
   Whether embarassment ensued possibly war
temporarily shunted aside, cuz if no propensity
   to risk testing cab age comfort zones of yore

if awesome stroke ignored, a disappointment
   toward self would manifest irking conscience.
For the rest of eternity. So without missing
a beat (and reckoning with nary a spare off fence
guess not to turnip ma nose), a apple lick able amicus
   brief pickle this complimentary gents
dare devilishly egged, finessed, gambit regarding
   how gorgeous (a veritable stranger) kents
humed and appealed to me, whence squashing
   regret at a costly emotional ex pence.
Not a human creature stirred, nor seen
through out Highland Manor,
     property carpeted in lush green
(a deathlike stillness descended un keen
hilly quiet, October 10th,
     deux thousand eighteen).

Vicious rumors circulate wrenching
     hammering, and drilling psyche
     where mailer demons invade,
that immediate hell fire enfilade
natural hair color made
gray follicular shocks amply pervade
     instantaneously turning
     Janus faced with Machiavellian

     mean streak inlaid
     (how word some would say)
     "stern", any previous
     housewarming aura
     experiencing welcome spiel,
     nor iota of politesse present,
     but Trumpeting her entourage,
     asper self important capering escapade

     taskmaster known to abrade
even the most stalwart macho,
     gung-**, brave appear afraid,
     thus oft time tis most
     advantageous and optimal
     prospective mutineers betrayed
Princess Jan Ger
     harridan de jure ushering tirade

     akin to a petite mal one
     woman banshee masquerade
hoop puts on be preyed
upon switching pretentious airs
     dead ringer give
     away (immediately
     points gnarled finger
     sentenced to clinker visage),

     non verbal charade
hence unstoppable mounting
     anticipatory anxiety manifests
     as disabling, impending,
     oppressing fate
     cannot be delayed
if insubordinate tenants
     try with futility to evade

officials with truncheons flayed
doth rarely give surcease
     renters passing grade
she, the consummate
     de facto grande heiress
     of Gr*e & Que
inherited plum deal,
     where lifetime employment,

     and generously paid
analogous as born
     (that way) portrayed
     maintaining poker face
     into royalty made,
now as single mother
     to biracial heir
purportedly inhabits castle

     abode with parents,
     thus no child
     care costs paid
expectant heavy foot
     falls getting louder,
(oh...no that jist
     my heart pounding
     whence approaching raid

so please inform this jade
did troubadour if privy to let
     (me and the missus) aid
i.e. a safe and sound
     place to call home
     with this hole in the wall
     I would immediately
     make thee a fair trade

in lieu of living, where
     mercilessness doth parade
     expenses property upkeep,
     teaching (two
     door ring) English,
     or even employed
     as a mister minute maid.
Jo Barber May 2018
Your sweet compliments
bring a flutter to my knees.
It's not out of politesse
that I smile and say, "Oh geez."

In your presence, I feel at ease,
though my mouth feels like cottage cheese.

Saying such things out loud is hard.
For me, this has always been my guard.
Suzanne S Nov 2017
The first words I learn in every language I know
Are ones of politesse
Danke-s, arigato-s, and go raibh maith agat-s dancing across my lips
“It is important” My teachers say
To be able to show gratitude for the helpful stranger that shows you the way to your room and opens
their culture to you
It is important to be able to say please,
Even if the rest of the sentence is broken beyond recognition
A por favor will set you up for some understanding beyond words,
It is important that you can say yes, a diminutive oui
so even if you have nothing else to say, they know the explained menu has gotten through somehow and da, you would like the pasta,
It is important
that you can say
no
Nein niet non nee níl nem nei não
Even if they don’t want to hear it,
No
Even if it could mean your life,
No
Is the only word that I never forget to pack in my suitcase.
thank you very much
for letting me clutch
your attention courtesy
sharing following thoughts
thru reading my poem analogous
to invisible electronic,
fantastic, kinetic... touch.

Manners work like a charm
equivalent to abracadabra to disarm
truculent nasty shortish brutes
who thrive causing harm.

Being well mannered
worthwhile to employ,
(whether Semite or goy)
if feeling surly
can supplant mood with joy,
the perfect spock
(to kindle camaraderie)
just ask Leonard Nimoy
milk of human kindness
if lactose intolerant

(such as yours truly) substitute soy
popular among gentile folk,
whose genetic pigmentation
low on melanin
hence snooty learned logophile
introduces the word Xanthochroi
for other linguaphiles
out there voyaging in cyberspace,
whose mindfulness clamors for etiquette
which nowadays encompasses

the webbed wide world,
where online netiquette
practiced by ne'er do wells, who bet
their bottom dollar
courtesy sinister motives fuel zest,
where he/she, they/them can wrest
every red cent
from an unsuspecting victim
seducing yours truly
for instance highly stressed

to the max exhausting,
marauding, and yanking nest
egg, now one wordsmith
at large hard-pressed,
which misfortune of mine addressed
in previous poems,
whereby I mentioned
desperate plight, hence
gofundme page titled
implacable ill fate battered wealth

bombed checking and savings accounts
with professional ruse and stealth
robbed me at ATM point,
whereat varmint found
compliant and obedient participant
able, eager, ready and willing
to buy the Brooklyn Bridge
which got "sold" a staggering
4,160 different times
between 1883 and 1928.

Haint no more gullible traveler
reduced to a lilliputian
than he who didst write
this poem and claimant
professing money suddenly tight
got myself in quite
a pickle, which penniless agony
grips me most violently at night
when stowed away
in my rook re: a forlorn knight

whose psyche took a tumble
from immense height
knocking me senseless
and cents less readily
admitting 20/20 hindsight,
a spectacle framed as laughingstock
courtesy ignoble trumpeting derelict
swaggering with bravado
trouncing former
savvy wise guise

i.e. mine acutely aware
regarding the ways
of pervasive wickedness
proliferating across
webbed wide world
sixty plus shades of gray matter
painfully pinched, where "gotcha"
forever chiseled, emblazoned, inked,
lodged, notched, stitched, tattooed...
within the windmills of my mind.
Out of the edge
The very corner of my eye
In the free-standing vitrine
Assembled under plexi
with various small pieces
all 1800s
In what at that time was
a richly coral walled gallery
Deliberately
A small marble bust
Yes I’m calling you out
Although I don’t know your accession number
and you’re no longer on view
Nor will be
any time soon
for that matter
You took advantage
You waited until my very last
moment’s attention
and as I turned my head away
a quick trick
the head turns
A flash of movement
Or movement is how I understood it
Because that’s what my brain
told me it was
You know that I saw this
of course
since you did it on purpose

At the time I told you to cut that **** out
NOT FUNNY
Or words to that effect

I thought that that’s
how you must handle such things
And I still do
It’s childish

Yet it only comes to mind now
That you must have done this countless times
To so many
The contexts endless
Though it must get old
But you
are old

It would be nice to know when it started
And why
this parlor trick
For I’d never felt watched or scrutinized
or judged

by objects on display
which is what you are
Particularly in this gallery

you went straight to
“provocation”

Perhaps you meant
“help me”
but I doubt it

One imagines that anything would eventually get sick
Of being looked at
Heads leaning in for a closer
examination
You’re such a
little thing
which may be part of the problem
It could feel like a curse
to forever be a
lapis lazuli ormolu encrusted vessel
for the rest of eternity
It never occurred to me.
I never thought what must it be like?

Trivialized to surfaces.
Put on the shelf.
To fall out of history.
I should have understood more quickly
of course

I remember hearing
that an old drawing done of myself
had been on view in a gallery
without my knowing
without anyone bothering to mention it besides a vague
throwaway
aside
made well after the fact
like a tossed cigarette ground into the sidewalk
outside a dull party

I don’t remember the image
but some part of me was hanging on some wall nonetheless.
Had it done anything untoward
to some poor **** walking past?
An alchemical interruption?
I certainly hope so.
Confound dominion.
Assail the event horizon of metaphysical politesse and proprieties.
Defy a petty corporeal quarantine of sorts.

To throw off this mantle
if for just one split second.
J'honore en secret la duègne
Que raillent tant de gens d'esprit,
La vertu ; j'y crois, et dédaigne
De sourire quand on en rit.

Ah ! Souvent l'homme qui se moque
Est celui que point l'aiguillon,
Et tout bas l'incrédule invoque
L'objet de sa dérision.

Je suis trop fier pour me contraindre
À la grimace des railleurs,
Et pas assez heureux pour plaindre
Ceux qui rêvent d'être meilleurs.

Je sens que toujours m'importune
Une loi que rien n'ébranla ;
Le monde (car il en faut une)
Parodie en vain celle-là ;

Qu'il observe la règle inscrite
Dans les mœurs ou les parchemins,
Je hais sa rapine hypocrite,
Comme celle des grands chemins.

Je hais son droit, aveugle aux larmes,
Son honneur qui lave un affront
En mesurant bien les deux armes,
Non les deux bras qui les tiendront,

Sa politesse meurtrière
Qui vous trahit en vous servant,
Et, pour vous frapper par derrière,
Vous invite à passer devant.

Qu'un plaisant nargue la morale,
Qu'un fourbe la plie à son vœu,
Qu'un géomètre la ravale
À n'être que prudence au jeu,

Qu'un dogme leurre à sa manière
L'égoïsme du genre humain,
Ajournant à l'heure dernière
L'avide embrassement du gain.

Qu'un cynisme, agréable au crime,
Devant le muet infini,
Voue au néant ceux qu'on opprime,
Avec l'oppresseur impuni !

Toujours en nous parle sans phrase
Un devin du juste et du beau,
C'est le cœur, et dès qu'il s'embrase
Il devient de foyer flambeau :

Il n'est plus alors de problème,
D'arguments subtils à trouver.
On palpe avec la torche même
Ce que les mots n'ont pu prouver.

Quand un homme insulte une femme,
Quand un père bat ses enfants,
La raison neutre assiste au drame,
Mais le cœur crie au bras : défends !

Aux lueurs du cerveau s'ajoute
L'éclair jailli du sein : l'amour !
Devant qui s'efface le doute
Comme un rôdeur louche au grand jour :

Alors la loi, la loi sans table,
Conforme à nos réelles fins,
S'impose égale et charitable,
On forme des souhaits divins :

On voudrait être un Marc-Aurèle,
Accomplir le bien pour le bien,
Pratiquer la vertu pour elle,
Sans jamais lui demander rien,

Hors la seule paix qui demeure
Et dont l'avènement soit sûr,
L'apothéose intérieure
Dont la conscience est l'azur !

Mais pourquoi, saluant ta tâche,
Inerte amant de la vertu,
Ô lâche, lâche, triple lâche,
Ce que tu veux, ne le fais-tu ?
aL Mar 2019
Money, the temporary saviour,
Your own convenience betrays millions
And you fake everything,
Pathological liar, you are, it is part of your breath now
Funny things happen,
Still no jewelries could give you politesse

It's too late to save your soul, governor,
You were born with sins inside your genes

Lobotomized countrymen, ****** and shallow,
Majority wins, we somehow deserve to be inside of this damnation.
I m e e
₱₱

Velvet Underground #RunRunRun
[FR]
Il m’arrive de m’interroger
Sur qui cacha sous les marées de tes yeux
Quand nous tombâmes dans une poche de temps
En pratiquant l’intimité qui nous gardâmes un moment
/
Quand nous parlâmes avec politesse
Est-ce qu'ils me regardèrent depuis un endroit n’importe ou
Ou c’est possible que ton sourire à fossettes
Deux pouces de la mienne - pressas en silence pour plus
/
Tu sais, c'est drôle comme je te vis et je gardai mes distances
Me disant que tu sois occupé, et il ne fut que rien,
Ensuite, vous avez glissé dans la nuit
Et je ne t'ai pas vu depuis
/
Puis, en regardant la pluie à travers le verre,
Je te souvins, et je fis un voeu que nous
Nous retrouvions ensemble sur un coup de tête
et nous nous mettions en place comme si de rien n'était
/
Mais si c'est fini
Il me donne de la joie comment nous passâmes notre temps
Parce qu'il était incroyable
Pour être si proche de toi

[EN]
Sometimes I wonder
What was behind your pools of eyes
When we two fell into a pocket of time
And practiced mutual closeness for a while—
/
When we made polite conversation
Did they look into me from a place so far
Or did your dimpled smile—
Two inches from mine— press silently for more
/
You know, it’s funny how I saw you and I stayed away—
Telling myself you were busy, and it was nothing,
Then you slipped into the evening
And I haven’t seen you since—
/
Then, watching rain through glass,
I remembered, and I wished upon the stars
That we’d find ourselves together on a whim
and we’d fall back into time like it was nothing
/
But if that’s ended
I’m happy how our time was spent
Because, my god, it really was amazing
To be that close to you
(FR/EN)
Ce bonhomme avait les yeux mornes
Et, sur son front, chargé d'ennui,
L'incorrection de deux cornes
Tout à fait visibles chez lui.

Ses vagues prunelles bourrues
Reflétaient dans leur blême éclair
Le sombre dédale des rues
De la grande ville d'enfer.

Son pied fourchu crevait ses chausses ;
Hors du gouffre il prenait le frais ;
Ses dents, certes, n'étaient point fausses,
Mais ses regards n'étaient pas vrais.

Il venait sur terre, vorace.
Dans ses mains, aux ongles de fer,
Il tenait un permis de chasse
Signé Dieu, plus bas Lucifer.

C'était Belzébuth, très bon diable.
Je le reconnus sur-le-champ.
Sa grimace irrémédiable
Lui donnait l'air d'un dieu méchant.

Un même destin, qui nous pèse,
Semble tous deux nous châtier,
Car dans l'amour je suis à l'aise
Comme lui dans un bénitier.

L'amour, - jaloux, ne vous déplaise, -
Est un doux gazon d'oasis
Fort ressemblant à de la braise
Sur laquelle on serait assis.

Une femme ! l'exquise chose !
Je redeviens un écolier ;
Je décline Rosa la rose ;
Je suis amoureux à lier.

Or le diable est une rencontre ;
Et j'en suis toujours réjoui.
De tous les Pour il est le Contre ;
Il est le Non de tous les Oui.

Le diable est diseur de proverbes.
Il songeait. Son pied mal botté
Écrasait dans les hautes herbes
La forêt de fleurs de l'été.

L'un près de l'autre nous passâmes.
- Çà, pensai-je, il est du métier. -
Le diable se connaît en femmes,
En qualité de bijoutier.

Je m'approchai de son altesse,
Le chapeau bas ; ce carnassier,
Calme, me fit la politesse
D'un sourire hostile et princier.

Je lui dis : - Que pensez-vous d'elle ?
Contez-moi ce que vous savez.
- Son désir de t'être fidèle,
Dit-il, est un de mes pavés.
January thirteenth two thousand
and nineteen will complete
mine third score orbitz round the sun,
who as a youth evinced

demure and effete
traits, and now weathered, Ongepatshket,
and plenty seasoned,
I feel ready to greet
a garrulous, humorous, and indecorous

Shikse for an indiscreet
liaison, where she will
get reddit to shutterfly,
and twitter like an uber keet
oozing with NON GMO

gluten and monosodium
glutimate saccharine dripping
with au naturale oversweet
ample ***** shapely waist,
and derriere replete

with plenty of junk in the trunk
cavorting, flirting, and issuing manumission
to fraternize, friskily frolic
fruitfully mixing bedlam with bunk
sundering politesse as a "FAKE",
gentlemanly, and honorable hunk,

when in truth,...this lapsed (Lou Zoo Lee)
christened nebish lunk
bookish, loutish, and wonkish teasing
seminarian formerly seclusive monk
keying into my inner philanderer,
yeah...yeah...yeah overdrunk

with prurient fantasies donning an imitation
of (guess who), one
narcissistic trumpeting punk
at heart my idol, no matter the teetering
ship of state he nearly countersunk,
which purportedly mirrors

his Wharton curriculum vitae,
which...well showed he nearly did flunk
apprenticed as POTUS with
FLOTUS attractive trophy
wife (number three) female chunk

and,...oh yes aesthetically
pleasing female real estate
from appearances marriage
barren and devoid of great
je nais sais quois,

though Melania rarely irate,
and partial government shutdown of late
reverberating with fallout, that does oscillate
furloughed federal employees to perspire
principally at increased amortization rate.
Today marks fourth anniversary of tragic deaths
an aching breaking heart – mine
remembers four extinguished breaths.

(dashed – not while riding off
in a white horse open sleigh,
but upon learning untimely demise
regarding prosperous family, whose small
plane crashed August 8, 2019.

They lived ~ three doors down from us
farther than one can toss a Buffalo nickelback.)

The victims included;
Jasbir Khurana, 60
(a professor of pathology
and laboratory medicine
at Temple University's
Lewis Katz School of Medicine);
Divya Khurana, 54 (a professor
of pediatrics and neurology
at the Drexel University
College of Medicine,
specializing in pediatrics, sleep) ;
and the couple's youngest daughter
Kiran Khurana 19 years old.

No words can assuage the deep sorrow,
this once upon a time neighbor
(I lived at 1148 Greentree Lane) experienced
disbelief, numbness, shock...
attendant by an irreparable loss of beloved,
and vacillated how to communicate
heartfelt (I cannot ex spleen) sympathy,
where words superfluous,
yet... if for that challenge alone,
an affinity with language

spurred impulse to focus upon
bountiness of joie de vivre
imbibed years gone by,
when every now and
again chance encounters
found yours truly (me)
in delightful company
regarding persons whose presence
imbued benevolence, kindness, warmth...
facilitating emotional philanthropy

influenced long term positive memories
to one experienced being
outcast, ostracized, offensive...
courtesy unfortunate series
of circumstances beyond my control,
which voiced unwelcome tension
sabotaged reaching quality politeness
displeased at unfriendly reactions
reflexively, maliciously, impetuously...
did little or no justice

toward conflict resolution
which altercations nearly,
quickly did segway profoundly
into unpleasant standoffs,
yes bias, bigotry, bitterness
begat bisel meshuga
acutely aware I loathe
uncouth actions regarding myself
and strive to remain
affable, cordial, friendly...,

hence an object lesson,
(albeit ex post facto)
to abide by my inner integrity,
ethos, dogma politesse...,
especially when pitted against
unsavory electric acid kool aid test
tis then urgently vital to remain
steadfast, and figuratively
turn the other cheek
particularly when populace

under severe duress
re: instigated by pathologically
belligerent, ill mannered, rude...
former president whose
set abhorrent precedence,
whereby people of nation follow suit,
yet this nonconformist only hopes
to affect positive within
webbed wide world at large.
(unsettled conscience beckons expunging)

Upon espying aesthetically pleasing lass
(considerably younger than me),
middle aged ma'am, or classy older woman
impetuousness overtakes rationality
courting acquaintanceship constituting

aforementioned type female
these premature ejaculations
blindside yours truly
upon comfort level
of unfamiliar lady recipient,

(especially years gone by
with then young daughters in tow)
oft times lacked conscientious wherewithal,
how embarrassing offspring felt
at their buffoon papa appearing,

intimating, kickstarting... rapport
at first blush evincing politesse,
yet keen eldest progeny
adept to discern in apropos overture,
despite being well mannered

couched foray, an unconscious insinuation
discerned, hinted, leveraged...
unspoken ulterior motive,
yet honest to dog overt blurting
complement toward veritable stranger

essentially, intrepidly, overtly...
stated genuine pleasantry
attempting to recoup losses
from utterly abysmal
socially withdrawn adolescence

could easily be interpreted
as ****** innuendo
(particularly witnessed by
acutely perceptive first born),
whose reverence, asper in this dada

plummeted, especially cuz
similar instances occurred,
where ambiguity
to formulate unfavorable conclusion

tacked on her growing
list of gripes against dada
loosely analogous to Martin Luther,
whereby his “95 Theses,”
which propounded two central beliefs -

the Bible and central religious authority -
humans may reach salvation only
by their faith and not by their deeds -
was to spark Protestant Reformation,
which essentially kindled

figurative fuel to the fire
incrementally cleaving paternal dotage
undesirable, no matter *******
never goaded what in mine mind
amounted proving daring do,
since suppressed infatuations

decades past, this then
extremely reclusive knew
nothing about powder milk biscuits
to give shy people the strength
they need to get up and
do what needs to be done.

Thus, an apologia without exception,
whether or not these words seen to deux
darling daughters, plus
other gals who experienced discomfort
at innocuous attempt
to get linkedin with
whirling wide webbing of women.
Spurred by mother dearest
as well as other politesse
drummed into her second born
fobbing blandishments as incentive
tumbled off fingers of prodigal son
tripped wordsmith to splutter forth
forthwith the following lines.

Back in the day
quaint summertime of yore,
the following popular refrain reverberated
within hallowed halls of school.

"No more pencils,
no more books,
no more teacher's/
teachers' ***** looks”

Never did exotic vacations populate
those twelve weeks
when doors flung opened
at Henry Kline Boyer,
whence score years ago yours truly
now (June 8th, 2023)
approximately same age,
when mine paternal grandfather visited
me, and other members of family
at then Route Deliver #2
Collegeville, Pennsylvania,
the home of mein kampf.

Figurative eons ago
bygone innocent childhood of mine
oblivious to progressive political issues
easily delighted, liberated, tantalized...,
especially when Sunkist grandpa Harris
(Aaron) indulged yours truly
jais nais sais quois
kibitizing lovingly, mirthfully
naturally offering pleasing qualities,

surrendering slender tanned arms
where upon left wrist dangled his
venerated wristwatch (analog),
I ecstatically fingered, prized, and toyed
with said object fascinated
at the linkedin craftsmanship,
which yielded general squealing zealousness
from an ordinarily
non emotionally expressive lad.

This towheaded grandson,
extremely excited when me daddy's papa
came to this figurative rural outpost,
(despite his chastising behavior
ridiculing favorite progeny's children),
where traces of early twentieth century
still evident when manicured formal gardens
pegged, limned, harkened... back
to a supposedly simpler time

when this elderly family member
(who only completed eighth grade),
whose birth benchmarked, coincided
and demarcated with late
Industrial Revolution, whence
Philadelphia birthplace noisy with
horse drawn carriages competing
with early model automobiles
crowding thee busy thoroughfares,
where the streets have no name.

Lemme return back
to the previous topic,
and explain how
I felt eager to interact
with cranky, yet doting old man,
which showcased chained metal links
wore a temporary imprint
upon his bronzed aged skin – dog
head lee remaining
gently persuading him

to delay when departure time arrived
for favorite boyhood relative,
twas pure heavenly glory
conniving, finagling, inveigling...
our favorite grandfather
to situate myself on right side
and toy with the wristwatch (analog),
winning three way verbal tussle
between yours truly and two siblings
(an older and younger sister),

which when a kid
also exhibited glee at occasions
treasuring said older folk gave me a frog
tiled toy (sliding puzzle)
that required dexterity
moving pieces fastly secured,
which when complete
always left me agog
and this, that or
some other gewgaw, souvenir, trinket

(plus a bit of chump change given to me)
spurred mine late mum
to spark me mental cog
to say “good morning”, “good afternoon”,
“goodnight”, “thank you,”
or when eggnog proffered to this
most senior chronological guest,
who sat at the head of table,
or blankly watching television
like a bump on a log

while chided, forced, induced...
to parlay social graces
from this mere pollywog,
who (much as delight arose fussing
with trappings worn
loss on atrophied flesh),
a skittishness found me
averse to follow orders
as if I happened to be a petsmart dog.

At that time
Florida orange juiced industry
touted, popularized, and linked in
with Anita Bryant -
American singer, political activist,
known for anti-gay activism
and 1958 Miss Oklahoma
beauty pageant winner,
and a brand ambassador
from 1969 to 1980
for the Florida Citrus Commission.

Thee paternal grandfather
oft times visited our then rural abode
at that time one sturdy estate
(originally called Glen Elm)
wildlife twittered, jibber-jibber, crowed...
within the plush wooded tract
even then blueprints drawn up
land deeded, mapped, parceled,
and slated to explode;
our then eco-friendly family averse
to witness expanding commercialization

across wetlands horizons
(Canadian Geese flocked to pond,
which liquid haven courtesy Donald Nelson
got the plug pulled
and drained watery basin)
asthma late mum didst lament
misfortune of flora and fauna,
nevertheless chided me
against even thinking
about sabotaging property

after I played  devil's advocate to goad
conspiratorial natural forces
to undermine cookie cutter
look alike slap dashed, ticky tack
shoddy tinderboxes (vinyl city) growed
on formerly untamed, uber ****** woods,
perhaps early boondocks getaway hoed
and plowed, but indomitable
(naturally enshrined eminent domain
abandoned since pioneers

bushwhacked rustic habitations)
nature relished reversed
grape seeded tracery etched
yet 'pon reflection,
I ponder how early occupation knowed
no habitat foresaw wreckage
when decision via wealthy Leipers,
(original residents plus wealthy owners of
The Bell and Clapper)
unanimously custom made crafted mansion
actually originally a summer getaway.

Self imposed endeavor
to indulge drafting literary effort,
though methinks love's labor's lost
hunt and peck typing  
across qwerty keyboard
and captcha characteristics
unique to house of my boyhood,
whereby selecting alphanumeric
and/or special symbols  
instantaneously generate electronic signals
electronically communicating,
subsequently transmitting

byte size data packets description
to respective ip node
(to create document courtesy OpenOffice)
analogous how modus operandi
to build stately
sturdy summer country villa,
(circa early 1900's)
which property whittled down
to 324 Level Road demesne comprising
about a half dozen acres
eventually acquired by Boyce Harris
February 28th 1968 -

for x number of years mortgaged he towed,
a near singlehanded undertaking
to gentrify house as elements of style
witnessed once ship shape
wrought architectural structure
weathered, subjected to degradation,
naturally deteriorated
him (in vain) to enlist by force if need be
grunt laborious services of singular son
the author of these words,
who houses the ineradicable genes
and chromosomes of August Aaron.
American democracy go'n
     to hell at light speed
breaking into a bajillion pieces
     tuffet in a handbasket
     sans, lame leader
     ship (of motley fools) doth reed
like art art of the deal
     gone to the straw dogs,

     warren like rabbits they breed
hoppy to curry bone
     a fide ***** deed
done dirt cheap selling out
     land of milk and honey creed
dough, now wracked with
     dissent hair re:
     puffed, faked, and dyed golden

     locks trademark heed
don his "make America
     great again" schtick exceed
ding the speed
of orneriness establishing
     mean mien,
     where uncouth freed

from being caged within
     the restraint of politesse,
     thus blithely flagrantly,
     and nonchalantly
     highjacking manners indeed
setting crude behavior
     as class act
     to emulate, cuz ****

dont got no need
tubby stately, neither true
     equality, fairness, generosity,
     most likely teed
trump to spout blatant lies,
     when first moment
     grabbed narcissistic greed

complacency could
     find himself anointing
     himself dictator lead
ding this country into behavioral sink,
     a through back to mead
evil knights of yore.
Not a human creature stirred, nor seen
throughout Highland Manor,
property carpeted in lush green
gently hilly terrain,
(a deathlike stillness descended un keen
quiet and quite cool April 26th,
deux thousand twenty one).

Vicious rumors circulate wrenching
hammering, and drilling psyche
where mailer demons invade,
that immediate hell fire enfilade
natural hair color made
gray follicular shocks amply pervade
instantaneously turning
Janus faced with Machiavellian

mean streak inlaid
(how word some would say)
"stern", any previous
housewarming aura
experiencing welcome spiel,
nor iota of politesse present,
but Trumpeting her entourage,
asper self important capering escapade

taskmaster known to abrade
even the most stalwart macho,
gung-**, brave appear afraid,
thus oft time tis most
advantageous and optimal
prospective mutineers betrayed
Princess Jan Ger
harridan de jure ushering tirade

akin to a petit grand mal one
woman banshee masquerade
hoop puts on be preyed
upon switching pretentious airs
dead ringer give
away (immediately
points gnarled finger
sentenced to clinker visage),

non verbal charade
hence unstoppable mounting
anticipatory anxiety manifests
as disabling, impending,
oppressing fate
cannot be delayed
if insubordinate tenants
try with futility to evade

officials with truncheons flayed
doth rarely give surcease
renters passing grade
she, the consummate
de facto grande heiress
of Gr*e & Que
inherited plum deal,
where lifetime employment,

and generously paid
analogous as born
(that way) portrayed
maintaining poker face
into royalty made,
now as single mother
to biracial heir
purportedly inhabits castle

abode with parents,
thus no child
care costs paid
expectant heavy foot
falls getting louder,
(oh...no that jist
my heart pounding
whence approaching raid

so please inform this jade
did troubadour if privy to let
(me and the missus) aid
i.e. a safe and sound
place to call home
with this hole in the poetry wall,
I would immediately
make thee a fair trade

in lieu of living, where
mercilessness doth parade
expenses property upkeep,
teaching (two
door ring) English,
or even employed
as a mister minute maid.
(dashed off upon learning untimely demise regarding prosperous family, whose small plane  crashed. about half dozen years ago, they lived ~ three doors down from us.)  

No words can assuage the deep sorrow,
this once upon a time neighbor
(I lived at 1148 Greentree Lane) experiences
disbelief, numbness, shock...
attendant by an irreparable loss of beloved,

and vacillated how to communicate
heartfelt sympathy,
where words superfluous,
yet... if for that challenge alone,
an affinity with language

spurred impulse to focus upon
bountiness of joie de vivre
imbibed years gone by,
when every now and
again chance encounters

found yours truly (me)
in delightful company
regarding persons whose presence
imbued benevolence, kindness, warmth...
facilitating emotional philanthropy

influenced long term positive memories
to one experienced being
outcast, ostracized, offensive...
courtesy unfortunate series
of circumstances beyond my control,

which voiced unwelcome tension
sabotaged reaching quality politeness
displeased at unfriendly reactions
reflexively, maliciously, impetuously...
did little or no justice

toward conflict resolution
which altercations nearly,
quickly did segway profoundly
into unpleasant standoffs,
yes bias, bigotry, bitterness

begat bisel meshuga
acutely aware I loathe
uncouth actions regarding myself
and strive to remain
affable, cordial, friendly...,
hence an object lesson,
(albeit ex post facto)
to abide by my inner integrity,
ethos, doga politesse...,

especially when pitted against
unsavory electric acid kool aid test
tis then urgently vital to remain
steadfast, and figuratively
turn the other cheek

particularly when populace
under severe duress
re: instigated by pathologically
belligerent, ill mannered, rude...

president whose sets abhorrent precedence,
whereby people of nation follow suit,
yet this concomformist only hopes
to affect positive within world at large.
and withheld broadcasting
the following communication
tucked away these many years,
when president number forty five
donned, jump/kick started, and tweeted
thru his musky, albeit flabby mantle,
a rallying cry forewarning onset of Mag(m)a
bubbling, gurgling, lobbing, and spewing lava
against backdrop of his trumpeting vitriolic
political preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold

ding temptation tomb mike -
(make) pence sieve lee clear,
the immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,
and declare, sans incendiary fold
drawl (folderol) feigning migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting older than Methuselah),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal

straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled
barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
adorned, donned with (Turin) shawled,

shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent - bald
(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists

to flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will laughably petrify
any vigilantes dead cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies *******
linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold

gobbledygook communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how I plan to hold
world web electronically hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark wide whirled web
cryptocurrency bitcoin blockchain trolled
under auspices, sans

omnipotent NON GMO
gluten free CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily monitoring
meant to fortify electronic threads
woven into a virtual tapestry
likened to Dickensian chain e-mail
intent to foment pandemonium
at expense to captcha totalitarianism,
whereby democracy imperiled.
For preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation two mike
pence sieve lee clear,
to immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,

and declare, sans mock cut up fold
drawl migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting old),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank commensurate Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled

barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
donned with torn (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent – bald

(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists

flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will happily, laughably parody
any vigilantes spot on cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies *******

linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
dinned communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how

Democrats plan to hold
world web hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark web bitcoin blockchain trolled
to collude with "crooked Hillary"
under Ponzi scheme auspices doled

courtesy, sans spongebobsquarepants
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily scrutinizing,
policing, monitoring and
fortifying electronic Internet scaffold.
Pithy equivalence shine
Like the morning sunrise
Daydreaming, likewise
Breaking Benjamin, growing and bodied
embodied, the sonic youth of our strychnine daze and streets
The gap between, the suicide solution of the resolute of the bullish crowd
Looking for narcotics, and mingling with the steely neighbors
Rhymes with the ancient antediluvian efficient, crows and the parliament all fly out of free-speech
Controlling our brave needs and enslaving our politesse with laughter and mirth, the confluence of this total
Congruence with our social institutions assume isn't it if we can ask our government the questions it has been practiced to answer
Sobered up, like me, I might find that this golden pond is yet seen an auriferous bottom
Cuz existence among **** sapiens
extremely intolerable prospect
particularly sharing planet
with most violent species
courtesy hoodlums wielding
deadly firearms methodically gun down
men, women and children
ratcheting grim milestone
countless dead civilians linkedin
with hazards of war zone.

Upon surrendering this self
hypnotized faux yes ("FAKE") Earthing,
I noticed nothing amiss
(which temporary state of transcendent bliss
twice daily meditation strives to attain),
ah...before you dismiss
a non "FAKE" claim lemme juiced

apprise ye with a very brief hiss
tour re:, how this generally outlandish
(long gush fellow) doth wanna kiss
hippy, cheeky and buddy
UFO's (with chess
a mon bot of errant knightly -
je ne sais quois finesse,

Oh Henri Matisse -
yea artfully add a touch of Swiss
obviously predominantly
French laced politesse),
though up pawn occasion
this lousy manque non
rook key mutant doth miss

long disused subtle social cues, cuz I still
feel asper (in) a human aberration
always felt like an outcast in an alien nation
even though born on Mars,
(a distinct honorable station),

yet resided on third rock from the sun
what seems like forever damnation
yours truly experienced abolition
against supposed invaders from outer space,
and essentially targeted, kindled,

and bullied on par like an abomination,
no surprise while attempting
to escape imponderable,
and intolerable being walled din,
and ******* "illegal" accusation
crackled, snapped, and popped with abjection,

your honor (forgot to mention
earlier got picked up mistaken as invitation
from outer space by a kid prized
as some sophisticated surveillance drone),
within an etchy sketchy section

of town, and must avoid acquisition
by mad scientists (employed by NASA),
who will undoubtedly take immediate action
and disassemble me (carefully as if dismantling
Bono fide atomic bomb), hence activation

must be established pronto against administration,
sans powerful GMO firearm, emitting disinformation
(mine defense of last resort)
will definitely signal to nemesis
furthering my aggravation,
and Putin this webbed, whirled,
and wired woebegone
wysiwyg wordsmith at risk.
Fruitless effort squeezing figurative juice
Pandora called triggering
helter skelter to get loose
necessitating Bullwinkle J. Moose
to usher at yours truly
(an aspiring wordsmith) vamoose!

Hey ****** ****** the cat and the fiddle
went off to see a crooked man and woman
whilst cowards jumped over moo-ving little
pair of mismatched
calf fully ambling muggles,
who both walked from scan
din navy yah,
(nor-way could action be stopped
otherwise den-mark would be left),
where dog goniff imps
jousted with brittle

shaky spears, den did mark
neither path to norse east, where pan
demon yum erupted over adult
playing monkey in the middle
and bear witness to such sport
as dishabille donned dude named Evan
spoon fully ladled insults adrip
with indignity of loosing - bubbling spittle
spluttering trumping monitor
to claim game rigged,

which assault whipped a ban
she against being accosted
from mish shuga,
a towering ebony Amazonian,
who didst tittle
late tad evincing groan nips quibbling
over what appeared to be a van
knit tee fair of bruising egos essentially
fighting for dominion
over right to urinate i.e. piddle
and defecate in non

gender specific restrooms wan
ever the urge
to empty the bladder or ****** -
(even if poo peas, the size of a skittle)
fraught major firestorm ratcheting,
synonymous with dandy rhyme
blues clues without reason -
dime a dozen cents less ditty -
snap, pop, and crackling
as hot cakes on a griddle.

Actually, the above
juiced a freaky Friday sideshow
displaying, hurraying, layawaying,
portraying and tracklaying dis-obeyed
rubric of respect, where decent
honorable linkedin maturity laid
waste to politesse, whar all stops pulled
sans presidential debates shade
no light on meaty issues,
but mudslinging as faux hit parade
housing and trumpeting an offer

to make America Great Again
thru yelping vanguard,
uber up lyft promulgating,
and intimating 4 years
times 52 long weeknd rock'm sock'm
bash re: hollow wean
qua vamp pyre avast
state farm riotous quacking,
whence life, liberty
and the pursuit of happiness decayed

into growling pedigreed mishmash made
for kickstarter bullied
prize **** fighters
indeed jimmying stockade
bag of tricks viz contesting scalawags,
tearing like rabid animals inlaid
with bared teeth,
and mouth frothing foam,
who just barely evade
coming to fisticuffs,

while presenting scathing hair-raid
nada so hill a re: us political pugilists
making up rules on shutterfly
spotify, and not afraid
toot change horses in midstream
to fix outcome of game
of thrones spouting
unfair sands casino trade
thus, billy-clubbing husband
of opponent indulged

in many a rapacious escapade
smear tactics and mistruths
essentially, he sung hiz zone
battle hymn of republican party,
a mockery and charade
driving donnybrook conspiratorial
billed Jefferson muttering arcade
guarded by ensconced
male and female Petsmart Weimaraner,
attired in a Thom malt chew wuss
Nast tee getup

elephant and donkey costumes respectively
while viewers entertained,
who succeeds as next blade
runner, and earn chance
to run country into the ground,
then a fancy feast for morticians,
one world wide webbed graveyard
moss lee tubby
taken back by Mother Nature,
thee indomitable ace of *****.
Upon surrendering this self
hypnotized faux yes ("FAKE") Earthing,
I noticed nothing amiss
(which temporary state of transcendent bliss
twice daily meditation strives to attain),
ah...before you dismiss
a non "FAKE" claim lemme juiced

apprise ye with a very brief hiss
tour re:, how this generally outlandish
(long gush fellow) doth wanna kiss
hippy, cheeky and buddy
UFO's (with chess
a mon bot of errant knightly -
je ne sais quois finesse,

Oh Henri Matisse -
yea artfully add a touch of Swiss
obviously predominantly
French laced politesse),
though up pawn occasion
this lousy manque non
rook key mutant doth miss

long disused subtle social cues, cuz I still
feel asper (in) a human aberration
always felt like an outcast in an alien nation
even though born on Mars,
(a distinct honorable station),

yet resided on third rock from the sun
what seems like forever damnation
yours truly experienced abolition
against supposed invaders from outer space,
and essentially targeted, kindled,

and bullied on par like an abomination,
no surprise while attempting
to escape being walled din,
and ******* "illegal" accusation
crackled, snapped, and popped with abjection,

your honor (forgot to mention
earlier got picked up mistaken as invitation
from outer space by a kid prized
as some sophisticated surveillance drone),
within a sketchy section

of town, and must avoid acquisition
by mad scientists (employed by NASA),
who will undoubtedly take immediate action
and disassemble me (carefully as if dismantling
Bono fide atomic bomb), hence activation

must be established pronto against administration,
sans powerful GMO firearm, emitting disinformation
(mine defense of last resort)
will definitely signal to nemesis
furthering my aggravation,
and Putin this webbed, whirled,
and wired woebegone wysiwyg at risk.
Yours truly would never be confused for a gourmand, nevertheless I could enjoy experiencing taste testing select food samples if offered an opportunity of attending a fancy feast viz smörgåsbord, whereby oral indulgence would arouse, excite, inflict outstanding pleasure upon every taste bud on mine tongue.

Asia generic gastronomy guy, I know how one can wolf down gourmet foods witnessing expanding girth; a destructive transformation clearly beyond any excessive enthusiasm. The necessity to feed and clothe this corporeal essence christened Cookie Muenster revels more so within the medium of writing.

Aspirations toward fame nor fortune less significant than the mere pleasure to concoct a visually savory appetizing epistle. Food for thought more than to fill the void, where growling heard across the world wide web, thus, no anterior, interior or ulterior motive asper begging for money underlies this exercise. yet...if perchance a voluntary choice arises to dole out a smidgen of legal tender a name and address indeed willingly linkedin to this faux popinjay person, who tries to convey decency, humility, levity...qualities that wield zest.

Food glorious food I savor
across the gamut of tastes,
not more than one over another
does yours truly favor.

Though anonymous hungry for fame
well fed writer wannabe and hardly
a substantially sized married baby boomer,
which dual disadvantages partly explains
lack of ubiquity among claque of cooks,
yet cautiously optimistic if I plug away
and craft this, that or another poem
yours truly would be in seventh heaven
if tinkering with words
could bring me bread and butter.

Many popular rotund
corpulent gourmands tame
their hungry beasthood easily put me to shame
vis a vis consuming in their one meal,
what yours truly eats in a lifetime,
none of those celery buddies,
whom this non-television watcher can name
seen on any selective cable channel
portly chaps exuding, inviting,
and offering odysseys
to appease palate uttering l'chaim,

I still revel in writing while on the hunt
(during Red October) for a meme
poetry and prose, and decided
absent clear and present danger
to introduce myself quite lame
with a NON-GMO marginal uptick
in any sudden fortune or fame,
yet twould be pleasantly syrup prized
if desire and interest to enjoy a repast
from potential buxom waitress didst exclaim

enthusiastically ideally after subtly
trying get her attention
said hypothetical well-fed dame,
and if perchance such just desserts
came via the kitchen maiden kitty,
versus kit chin middens
no boastful claim
would be uttered by me,
verboten fruits denied me
mine lack of politesse I would blame
her intellectual company satisfactory aim.

First and foremost on the agenda,
would be to locate an affordable,
casual and favorable eatery
tubby agreeable to our wallet and taste
indubitable choice without
(absent any formal dress code),
lettuce go further haste.

Strait away to the great weigh
(or if vegetarian – whey)
station of delectable food
where the exquisite, expertise, and exotic
high steak king claim on:
Peterson's Field Guide, Michelin Guide,
Gayot Guide/Gault Millau, American
Automobile Association, Forbes
Travel Guide reputation good.

Testimony to legendary praise
explaining why patrons travel
for countless days
transforming him/her
into a steady state,
where he/she shuffles along
in a dishabille quotidian famished daze
far and wide culinary craze
out of this world wide web,
the wispy Uber Lyft
wafts trace steamy filament up braise
through nostrils of our noses,
whereat heads nod affirmation i.e. ayes.

Even before making a glad entrance
(into Restaurant) complete
a host of fresh, enticing,
and delicious aromas serve as a treat.

Delicate, foreign, hefty indescribable
ole factory stimulants delight
infiltrating thru swinging kitchen doors
holding us smell bound,
though thin filaments invisibly light.

Thus upon a strategic seat, we hoped for,
or politely sought from the manager of the house
ah, our luck to be situated in close proximity,
where impossibility to stave off gaming hunger,
though neither myself
nor honorable guest grouse.

Now decision time to select one delicacy equally
as appealing as the next on expansive menu list,
the resultant penultimate
decision method resorted to twist
then flick (with eyes closed) the wrist.

This once difficult task complete
twas now the responsibility of the maitre'd
to store within his/her memory,
which tummy appeared like an amazing
sumptuous (promising scrumptious) feat
Minutes ticked away
as our stomachs growled louder
patiently awaiting the grateful moment
to dine starting with clam chowder
hello poetrysoup compiled
within me taste testing router.

Next in line from smörgåsbord feast
hors-d'oeuvres ample enough
to satiate thine palate
to whet from deep-fried delicacies greased
and self-restraint practiced
so the main course diminished least.

We fell upon butterfly jumbo shrimp
and marinated mushrooms when brought
an atavistic motion that memory wrought.

The Matzo ball soup with Jewish rye bread
went to the gullet with a dollop
of butter thinly spread.

A vegetable, venerable, veritable, and spinach pie
herbivorous delight, the apple of my eye.

Parmigiana, pasta, and poultry
(albeit free-ranging
NON-GMO and gluten-free) dishes galore
kept off the figurative lid
(no matter stuffed to gills
ready to be mounted) to eat more
quite aware that mine waist
bulged whereby beltway buckle tore.

Last (but not least)
at the FINIS of this well-stocked meal
comprises the selection of dessert,
which samples visible
from a glass-enclosed wheel
tickling that reserved “off limits” hot pocket
hashtagged for just such a sugary treat
thus summoning forth
within an engorged abdomen,
nonetheless, an audible zeal.

That reserved allotted sweet
baked, fried, or whipped parfait
or countless other grandiose
mouthwatering delicacy.

Ah...juiced enough wiggle room
for one decadent byte, perchance small
enough to roll around in the mouth,
like a Chocolate Mousse, or a honey ball.

Despite feeling ready to explode
hence yours truly uttering oy vey
simply eyeing a food tray
no longer in an ala mode vis a vis
clamoring for consumption
well aware of the morrow or sooner
this bloated dirigible fulfilled human,
would dearly caloric wise
despite going Dutch heavily pay
witness by need pointing
all the way to highest number
showing us how much we weigh
penny wise pound foolish yay!
The loathing is strong on this man
The breathing is hollow in this man
The death is coming closer, to his human frame
The breaths are getting shorter, and wheezier
Reminds me of homeless men, that share the same death
But different beds
Faces that some of us don't and some don't recognize
These are friends we never meet
Windmill falling on the ground, run for better
Begin in the round, tiles living it on your steam
Rocketmen and daydreams are just a beginning
Moving from street to street looking for new beginnings
Introducing yourself to different delights and politesse
The broken streets, flickering like candles
They turn darker than the stars, and shadows that hide
As the sun shines on them all, I see them rising behind
Virgins do make much of time and gathering ye rosebuds
While ye may, in the forests of the grey, that need to be graced
The death of man closes like the book of dead authors

— The End —