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Approaching the danger line red on the marker mine are the days I love most.

I have walked on the red hot vial, cast on the coals is fine, heat is the heart of the beast.

Those who I need or those never known have shown by their actions that I've never grown past the B stage and in the age of the marvel though Marcel is dead,
I have fed on the mime of time, unearthed unearthly rhyme
sought out the wired and the weirder.

Reader beware of what youth think we've lost the plot, but this sanctuary is what we got,
Like it or lump it or give it a clump it doesn't matter that much.
The meter runs even when we stand still.
Jaymi Swift Jan 2013
The television again assaults my senses.
Yet all this technology forms a comfortable distance.
There is no need to do the division,
the world was polled, and here's your decision.
I feel I need some personal attention,
But all I get is some kind of technician.
Seven Scythed Fathers split this Growing Bond
Yet befriended by Common Dives respect
For Growth the Appled Fortunates abscond
And reap your Good Harvest in circumspect
Such Loyalty though Honest in its brew
Hoping for his time may notice and drink
I in my Honour base mixtures in stew
Never up-polled to what he may re-think
Bless, specially, the Welsh in Cat's Charm
And slap my Donkey to walk-up and run
I found the Barter; Whose tweet's harness farm
Smiles of the Tanner and revive his fun.
Although, it would be nice to just confess
And sharpen your Profile to know at best.
#claytonhawke
Derek Miller Feb 2011
Ago
Past of dread, to you I cry.
Please duly note, I plead.
Life of yearning, that of grief,
A pliant concept, need.

A path of stone, of certain way
Now broken, loss of canter.
I stumble through unmarked loam
Lonely thoughts seek banter.

Odd, true, that one might wish for this,
As sadness, I begrudge.
Important, here, regard from now.
To first address; you'll judge.

In the greeting, first of words
Do give way to what's sought.
History, then, is what is found.
That late mind's state: distraught.

Define this current mode I must.
It's clarity you shall know.
Vital I cast my wish complete,
Lest current hate should grow.

The prints of blame lie with a poll.
Disheveled souls, align.
Debauched deceit has had its say.
Count souls that don't count time.

This moment owning essence,
All alone it does decay.
Crying out to hopelessness,
As it loses will to stay.

Thus, being sole, the toll is one
A total far too great.
For none should bear such shameful fear.
Lasciviousness, abate!

Now cast a line behind your eyes.
Despite this glare, you'll find.
That love controlled the souls in there.
Worst ruthlessness, I'd bind.

The past shall census, finding none!
No vultures there did thrive.
No broken hearts to feed upon.
It's then I felt alive.

The souls did then discern a span.
A fear's place served a point.
Its force directed to all times
Hands couldn't form a joint.

See, souls combine when they align,
And thus, they become one.
In more than what's been stated, then
They counted thus as none.

It's in that line of olden count
The core of her and me
Did stand together, side by side
As proof that grief can't see.

Adjacent then, to these the polled
Stood third of counted spirits.
A woven work of love that drove
All sadness far from near it.

The number past, then being none
Shows no decaying soul.
Just two who's only fears did lie.
In a separated whole.

Sadness, then, was due to love,
As now, it's due to hate.
And this is why I wish for aches
Of bygone days of wait.

A time when hurts were dealt with words.
A simple I love you
Was all it took to calm the nerves
When badly missing you.
Donna Arden Jun 2014
Born in the RS of A
On a virtual July day
Lastest of 5
Sent to the human pound age 3
Secured  a shelf with a window
Glazed outwardly, felt like eternal
Began school in a painted corner
Sealed in with stars
I gradually grew
No sync., no link
To sibling warriors
Alone in 'me own home'
Through dance .. Mimicked purpose
Through fairytales...
conquered romance
Through romance .. Scored pain
Through words ... Felt rain
Hit middle years
Tapped into random courage
Left the partner scrummage
Process delayed
When a car crash, thee swayed
An old spirit I met
Who with rehab ,my soul kept
The scene rolled
My divorce license was polled
Pages turned
Characters learned
Scripts were scrolled
And onwards burnt ...

( my humble beginnings at RAP)
What do you think
To be continued .....
James Gomez May 2015
late at night
bowl of white
fill it right
take a bite

tummy polled
bread to hold
jelly cold
spread and fold

hunger or habit
simply grab it
whole or halve it


bunny rabbit
As a general rule, don't let Cap'n Crunch inspire a poem...he'll leave you hangin'...
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
People who are more active
are less likely to think about cancer.

Choosing confusing reusing
is the answer.

Spanking your child
is unproductive and cruel.

We may have been wrong there,
But hey! William Singer can get the kid
into a better school.

Pools and ponds are okay,
but avoid lakes.

3 out of 5 doctors
prefer headaches.

Do you have a problem (?)
Take this pill.

But not for too long
'cause it can ****.

Don't eat eggs,
don't use butter.

You can eat eggs now,
but not with butter.

It's okay again to use butter,
just skip anything from Laura Scudder.

Girls with long legs and short tempers
make better lovers.

Boys always marry girls
who remind them of their mothers.

Do these 40 things
to be a better father.

That's so last year!
Why even bother?

Women who wear wicker
marry quicker.

Men who love their lawn mower
do it slower.

People who breathe through their mouth
as less likely to pick their nose.
Or so it goes.

50% of those polled
said "yes."

The other half shrugged
and wouldn't wager a guess.

We know it's a lot to process,
so just stick with us
and we'll guide you through...

more or less...?
Andrew Rueter Dec 2018
I stick with what I know
Refusing to grow
Until I’m losing the show
With nowhere to go
I become part of the flow
Of an abandoned road

Staying in my lane
Playing video games
I’m becoming lame
With thoughts so tame
Ignoring doubtful shame
And bouts with pain
To preserve my brain
From harsh stains
So when I’m social
I am only hopeful
They don’t see I have no soul

To reach the top of that hill
I need to develop the will
To acquire a new skill
That’ll leave me fulfilled
And not on pills
But on playbills
That pay bills
Where the bay spills

But learning language
Brings me anguish
The stench of my French
Puts me on the bench
And I’m speaking German
Like I’m inside a Sherman
So I give up sounding like Napoleon
And go try out the accordion

But my focus on instrumentation
Only causes further insulation
When it doesn’t give placation
Requiring practice and inspiration
Yet I can’t tell the difference between a piano and a dynamo
But I guess I wasn’t really trying though
What I’m doing is more like dying slow
Parked in the snow
With nowhere to go

I have no patience
Nor discipline
I crave safeness
And indifference
For living with ease
Is my domestic disease
Drowning on my knees
Until I’m not interesting
In this interest sea
Where I float free
But don’t see

I say it’s all been done before
So why should I do any more?
Those before me got to score
And then closed the door
To the convenience store
They created a mangled mold
Out of their stranglehold
On the angles sold
But my blame grows old
As my claims are told
And my peers are polled
Concluding I’m not bold
After becoming cold

After a head start
I wait for a spark
Alone in the dark
With no real heart
Expecting my part
To fall in my lap
And people to clap
While I can’t do a thing
I can’t dance or sing
My hands I wring
Scheming ways to be king
Without pulling the strings
And never committing
It’ll be here I’m sitting
I heard your voice, your promises, your regrets
your passion, your desire, your honesty.

I looked into your eyes, they told me to trust what I see,
only you can change my world, only you.

You lied.

I will never vote for you or your kind again. X
jeffrey conyers Jul 2016
No one romance is ever the same.
We strive for it with a serious claim.
But when you see these reports of polls on various events.

This is when you must ask yourself?
Who do the polling on love?
Seriously, I'm asking this question.

No, love doctor's can confess they know it all.
And if they speak to several folks you only getting an opinion.

Then again, we must laugh at ourselves to ever buy into polls.
Cause we aware God never polled us.
Zaynub Elshamy Dec 2015
You run hot, you run cold
This attitude of yours, is getting old
I'm getting tired of being told
That the way I am, is just too bold
I don't need a lecture, no time to scold
I don't want to wait til the bell has tolled
I need someone that I can hold

You figure that you can mold
Me into some token of gold
Then when you're done, I unfold
I am then ready to be sold
My soul has been rolled
Tucked up into the fold
I no longer have to try to uphold
This game of illusions when polled
jeffrey conyers Sep 2017
The most honest signs of true racism lie in polls.
We see it constantly upon news channels that the polls state this.

But then you must inquire upon the ones the polled.
Cause constantly upon white news media the odds are highly in one physical group opinions.

We know the polls attends to them for opinions and then push it as truth.

War, you poll many and the odds are this or maybe that.
Then if you're in college it depends on the campus.
All because a minority based campus views most likely be different than the other group.

So when you here the polls say this.
Odds are they based upon that one majority group.
Yenson May 2022
Much ado about nothing
scream Republicanism Revolution and Solidarity
when in truth your hate
lurks in the shortcomings that peeks on your groins
from red mists you rage
odious bullies needing a scapegoat to abate tiny Tims
its obvious the gifted
who measures up in mind body and soul is nemesis
to thimble small men
and you wonder why its all about socially castrating
an innocent gifted man





SHAFTED BY FRENCH British men’s ******* are only the 66th biggest in the world, study finds – & even French fared better

LACKING lads came up short in a study of international todger sizes — landing the UK in 66th place.

Their average of 5.17in put us well down the pecker order.

Even French fellas fared better — inching to 11th place with 6.2in.

Men in Ecuador claimed to have the biggest trousersnakes, at an average of 6.93in, ahead of Cameroon (6.56in) and  Bolivia (6.5in).

Germany came just above it — 39th on 5.72in and Argentina 30th on 5.86in.

US men polled 59th on 5.35in with Ireland in 70th on 5.03in and Aussies  43rd on 5.69in.

Pharmacist Navin Khosla said: “Most men have wondered at some time or other if their ***** is big enough. Size can have a massive impact on confidence and self- image.”

Researchers also found there were almost half a million online searches for ***** size by UK men in the last year.
Smartly, squarely, summarily into
pall bearing sized hands Helena Handbasket
adorned with Aconite (Monkshood) atop casket
signaling demise, née sealing freedom
(of life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness) fate
with eternal ******* super glued gasket.

I attribute more'n syzygy nsync
with blind faith disproportionate
Republican-controlled Senate
Trump hen proletariat acquitted
id est scott free acquittal
zealously, wickedly, and verily
upending Constitutional tenet.

Suddenly mine blood runs ice cold
regarding bonafide pith and marrow
after historical turnout,
when voters option polled
heart of presidential election Tuesday,
November 3, 2020 struck serious setback
how current commander in chief
punishingly did scold

two impeachment witnesses
Alexander Vindman and Gordon Sondland
in a malicious attempt to excise then fold
brave souls, who (though sadly trounced)
dared to tell truth as they soffit
supporting overarching sacred complex edifice
representing (Greta Thunberg need than ever)
to bolster salient Democracy bulwark extolled
with once upon a time rolled

out Declaration of Indepence
fledgling set of pants
governmental experiment nefarious cajoled
against self anointed emperor, whose bold
machiavellian prince sip pulls
diabolically, fiendishly, giddily...
will shingle handedly raze the roof
that doth (did) vibrantly uphold

land of the free (dumb to repress others)
within home of the brave
eager, ready, and willing who hold
humane truths (toward
all creatures) as self evident
subsequently said worth their weight in gold
regarding those, whose noble quality stance
unfortunately in retrospect foretold
fate worse than death.

Access apropos website
megalomania rants and raves
against with vindictive malice and spite
whereby person in power yields most might!

Https://www.google.com/search?client=
safari&hl=en&authuser=0&channel=
macbm&ei=yCAXtGJAtuuytMPluOX2Ag&q=
who+originated+the+sayingPower+tends+to+
corrupt%2C+and+absolu­te+power+corrupts+
absolutely.+Great+men+are+almost+always+

bad+­men%2C+even+when+they+exercise+
influence+and+not+authority%2C+st­ill+more+
when+you+superadd+the+tendency+or+the+
certainty+of+cor­ruption+by+authority.&oq=
who+originated+the+sayingPower+tends+to+

corrupt%2C+and+abso­lute+power+corrupts+
absolutely.+Great+men+are+almost+always+
bad­+men%2C+even+when+they+exercise+
influence+and+not+authority%2C+s­till+more+
when+you+superadd+the+tendency+or+the+

certainty+of+c­orruption+by+authority.&gs_l=
psy-ab.12..0i22i30.20137.34897..41363...0.4..
0.82.1406.29.­.....1....1j2..gws-wiz.......
0i71j0i273j0i131j0j0i67j0i22i10i30j­0i13.
H4mJplq98uw&ved=0ahUKEwjRjdGP7M
LnAhVbl3IEHZbxBYsQ4dUDCAs.
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.
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.
Lawrence Hall Oct 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

     Parish Consolidations and Rumors of Parish Consolidations

                 “I'm a beast, I am, and a Badger what's more.
                                We don't change. We hold on.
                              I say great good will come of it.”

                    -Trufflehunter in C. S. Lewis’ Prince Caspian

I don’t suppose Saint Peter sent surveys
Or that Saint Paul politely polled the people
But that’s how bishops do such things these days
With an access code on the InterThing

502 Bad Gateway

Rumor Control and Gossip Central say
That our parish is for the chopping block
     (maybe re-purposed as a shopping block)
Worse things have happened; we’ve been pilgrims before
So as the Lord leads us, we will follow Him

Again

The Altar, Sacrifice, and Word are Truth
And where we are sent to serve, there we will serve
analogous to expending precious Air Supply
embellishing, modifying, revising, et cetera
a poem crafted about fourteen months ago.

I take stock and revisit good ole days of yore
quite conscious undeclared state of war
prevails within body (Electric
Light Orchestra) of troubadour,
whereby creative juices did perforce pour
forth as if sung by one man koor;
now he haply seated at his Macbook Pro
today April 29th, 2022
accompanied with Christopher Robin,
Winnie the Pooh, and Eeyore.

Since January thirteenth of this year
(two thousand and twenty two),
yours truly suddenly feels
long in the tooth, i.e. auld,
he whose decrepit body and
gnarled hands ice cold
senility and senescence doled
rigor mortis virtuous vice grip extolled
coronavirus (COVID-19) motherlode
courtesy geomorphology dynamism fold
analogous to discovered vein of mined gold

grim reaper with scythe doth silently infold
(in Old English, scythe spelled siðe)
ore yonder church bell knolled
anonymous beat nickles less,  
dime a dozen, day late
and dollar short sexagenarian
dropped out of Culture Club
(any strong resemblance between said poet
whose Grateful Dead head lolled,
and once living person purely coincidental)
death and decay, I lichen to mold
meself finally nill and void nolde
of unwanted excessive fleshy flab
scant personal possessions outsold
to highest bidder polled.

Dead weatherbeaten and fatigued soul
with absolute zero regret
no longer being alive,
immortality impossible mission to connive,
especially when endurance and stamina
took kamikaze nose dive
formerly earthlinked buzzfeeding
desiccated honeycomb hive

in tandem with former anxiety riddled psyche
need no longer worry
his existence perfect example
how hardship did misthrive
death be not proud penultimate quest
since adolescence (think anorexia nervosa)
he did (unsuccessfully) strive.

At long last... Beatle browed
Beastie Boys attained Nirvana
routing hellish existential crisis
courtesy Earth, Wind And Fire
rendered null and void celibate Journey
knight in shining armor
forever staind and tarnished
compliments verboten extramarital whoopie.

Herewith I forthwith take poetic license
linkedin to long line
of Mamas and the Papas
whose music died
when Passenger(s) violently perished
courtesy flaming inferno
analogous to Le(a)d Zeppelin 129
christened Hindenburg.

Along similar blurred lines
foo fighter manned ****** temple pilot
Jefferson Airplane qua Starship
gracefully and slickly
deliberately maneuvered sic
Crash Test Dummies
immediately annihilated upon impact
smack dab into Puddle Of Mudd,
yet lo and behold as a Foreigner
and Survivor yours truly eluded Dire Straits.

Oz suppose during whirlwind Kansas tour,
while snatching forty winks
in toto working out Kinks,
I experienced revelation
regarding divine creator - Egypt me
never securing life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness
elusive weltanschauung as understanding,

the mysterious Sphinx,
yes essentially zilch joie de vivre
minus high jinks
aptly summarizes mein kampf methinks
my life and hard times
whereby vitriol pelted me
courtesy those rat finks.

Nihilistic zeitgeist
apocalyptic outlook sacrificed
no redemption no matter
how figuratively purposelessness sliced
unlike mum man crucified Jesus Christ.
Across the realm of gray matter
slowly percolating within tissue
composed of neuronal, glial
and endothelial cells, and although
there must be biological rules
that determine the numbers
of cells of each subtype
and the volumes (or masses)
occupied by them,
little is known about such rules,
if they indeed exist

nevertheless, ah haint goot
no trade secret, boot verily
attest adventitious, bounteous, and
capacious divine intervention
(analogous to invisible
Charge of the Light Brigade)
timely saving amazing grace
engorges, engirdles, and engenders mine
body, mind and spirit,
which psychic triage
accruing, germinating,

and manifesting coming
forth, and appearing
at the most opportune
pluperfect tinder kindling
jawboning indeed, and
instagramming optimal instant –
sparing irreparable cerebral damage,
yet inflicting temporary
temporal lobe trauma
not surprising giving
brain big bang, sans

tickly totally tubular raise
zing trumpeting – analogous
to Portuguese man-of-war
sea render tyranny
(Sic semper tyrannis)
over fifty plus shades sways
undulating cerebral cortex
doth lightly secretly
with naturally secreted
unguent liberal mindedly braise,
which explanation might meet

with skepticism, but crazy as such
"FAKE" holy transcendent
heavenly extra corporeal
modus operandi may seem,
an inexplicable force
powerfully Herculean sensation
grips me noggin leavening
mental scratch pad in a daze
of blinding poetic inspiration doth    
like quaffing goblet
of gin n tonic faze

this phenomena plays
a particularly puzzling role
on account difficult to phrase
in light of my being an atheist,
which non deistic, theistic,
nor Vedic precept stays
metaphorically locked, linkedin, and
leveraged in place,
despite non religious confession
augmentation, attribution,
and association showers inspiration,

where eyes fixedly glaze
as literary creativity attaining
high psychological grades
dramatically engages fantastically
with cosmic force appearing
as nebulous haze
seems antithetical to premise
couched, fixated, and interleaved
anchor rightly, viz
secular humanism inlays
votary visa versa entrees

shutterfly, snapchat twitter
comport comfortably situated
in  the catbird seat
as upon royal chaise
lounge steeped within
monastic hermetically ascetic ways
akin to daffodils got to puff the
magic dragon GoDaddy seed achieve
visibly absent pride and
prejudice where aggrieve
ving unseen, as careening

human bits believe
where forebears of Adam, and
the ants sandy dunes cleave
species pollination, yet devoid of
neither sense nor
sensibility that deceive
themselves philanthropic buttressed
by religious ethos, dogmas
credo, et cetera since Eve
to and fro, hither and yon
across the globe heave

infusing self importance
viz zit heady species
**** sapiens sans belief bold
lee granting superiority
to hundreds of generations
lapsed goo gilled descendants
of contemporary Primates cold,
and calculating dictatorial demagogues
(no matter dishabille disheveled) doled
out self importance
gussied up as kingpins,

whose braggadocio extolled
blood lust, depravity and egregious
on flip side of Manichaeism origami fold
touting faux grandeur measly
humans inherent self supremacy,
which mettle valuably wrought
more precious than gold
whereby might versus right
fostered iron gripped hold
trumping supreme cosmic
deity (if such exists,

per those, who ascribe existence
to divine creator),
where mankind didst
get special mold
where fictitious codified battlements
evinced luminary salient traits
if millennial forbears hypothetically polled
vis a vis virtue vindicates
vice viz lyrical tomes
such legendary mythological narratives as:
Aeneid, Don Juan,

Paradise Lost, The Divine Comedy,
Mahabharata, Beowulf,
Metamorphoses, The Odyssey,
Epic of Gilgamesh,
and The Iliad
displayed thunderous outrages
rectified violently rocked and rolled
where assignment throughout galaxy -
studded with malevolent
mailer daemons all told
informed terrestrial behavior,

decrees and formalities amidst wold
wide webbed skein tenuous
as gossamer wings
shutterfly at the speed of sound
albeit ergot size
solemn spores bumping,
commingling and jostling beings
whose demotic, erratic,
and frenetic vernacular
bumped uglies against
sacred talismanic wild things

while secular notions cursed
as intractably intolerable swings
per paradigms that disallowed rubric,
where autocratic stings
lashed out at pagan rites, which
when viewed from
surface where Earthlings
dwelt appeared as unpredictable
skittering dots with nary flings
perceived, but simply

near microscopic simians
crowning themselves as Kings
of Leon admonishing those
madding crowd source rings
of bright waters -
offering entertainment
to the invisible forces
within galactic realm
as mere antics of goslings.
Especially one courteously wrapped ably
anonymously gifted to
an aspiring gourmet Chef Boyardee
i.e. not surprisingly... revealing mystery
person none other than...
yepper namely me.

Moost anyone can show
off culinary karate chop
suey, whether schooled among
fishy creatures either
from black lagoon,
or privately tutored,

(this haint no canibal)
courtesy mythological Cyclop,
somewhat riotously,
quirkily and precariously,
when blindsided flop

which slapdash loco motion often
misconstrued for latest dance moves
characterizing boogie woogie
(touting Louis Armstrong talents
as token bugle boy), and/or hip hop.

Audible sigh of relief exhaled by
none other than Chaim Yankel,
whose tail feathers ruffled
linkedin to setback, which former
(malfunctioning microwave) did rankle.

No longer must
hungry tummies all told
eat food frozen and/or cold
leftovers formed into Rorschach,
neigh Horseshack habitat mold
more suitable as clay pigeons,
where strong arms
analogous to accordion fold

readied to take aim and fire
young trumpeting Olympian trained
contestants, albeit aghast at
proliferating firearms when polled
wantonly, indiscriminately, and blithely
taking precious innocent lives
worth more than fine spun gold.

Eve vent chilly this monseigneur
and his madam
(Church Lady) conceding faithful
to follow and acquiesce
and countenance flimflam
toward yours truly,
no matter a fake Imam

who offered up feast
Earth friendly biologically/
genetically modified, prepared
artificial intelligent algorithmically
programmed manufactured in Vietnam,
who cooked delectable
Soylent green eggs and ham.

Best not prepare
former entree in microwave
lest they explode instantly
killing home of the brave
necessitating, none other
than one lame rhymester at large
to end poem quickly senseless verse
in order for his hide to save.
Cedric McClester Jan 2021
By: Cedric McClester

Some call it democracy
But I call it the hypocrisy
Of the aristocracy
Promoting meritocracy
Because our ideas
Are bought and sold
By those among us
Who maintain control

So pardon me
If I may be so bold
To lay it out like that
Because I know it’s cold
But that’s not even the half
If the truth be told
We’re all being choked
In their strangle hold

This isn’t a survey
So I haven’t been polled
Nor is it simply put
Something that I’ve been told
I’m an eyewitness
Who watched it all unfold
And it hasn’t yet reached
It’s full threshold

So here’s my hypothesis
They’re blocking our esophagus
By closing our sarcophagus
And that’s the thing that’s stopping us
As long as they’re the ones
With the monopoly
They’re always gonna have
The oligopoly



Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2021. All rights reserved.
I wanted someone to hear me shout for help
as recently recalled
when yours truly a little barking whelp.

After conversing with Amélie Beth
(yesterday February 26th, 2021)
yes, the same sibling diagnosed
with nodule on her right lung
chatted with said family member.

Her brother (yours truly), could not sleep
last night/early this morning
what would ewe expect
this rambunctious poet do... count sheep?

Okay... wool ye go ahead and lambaste me!?

Ordinarily counting backwards from one hundred
helps trigger rem memorable cycles
(never if ever rarely reaching zero -
cipher, nought, the big goose egg...)
usually does the magic, (albeit cheap trick)
constituting one garden variety supertramp,
who within blink of eyelash nods off to dreamland
succumbing and submerging into subconscious.

More so the latter half
(regarding unsainted) days
of mein kampf
lived more satisfactorily
meaning emotions shared
between yours truly
and family members.

Suddenly important for me
(at approximately 743.999 months
athwart planet Earth)
to finagle acknowledgement
constituting care and concern
regarding welfare of loved ones.

Rather, a necessity to unleash
pent up sentiments activating
"**** the torpedoes,
full speed ahead!"

An injustice to myself
and deprivation to recipient, i.e. Amélie
(who accidentally, inadvertently,
and unwittingly triggered feelings
of grievousness, ire, joy... )
to act adamant and withhold
for whom the bell tolled
valuable unpleasant turmoil
or heavenly bliss within
mine psychological state
most therapists and/

or self actualized individual
would concur if polled
wisest, loveliest and healthiest
personal choice to share
lest internalized heart wrenching dilemma
compromise palpable mutual
(of Omaha) kith thing catharsis
freeing restrained pent up angst
kinship therapeutic as “Wild Kingdom,”

whereby respective psyche
constituting uber brotherly spirit
doth lyft among soundcloud
shutterflying amidst
imagined lilies of field
engendering region knolled
king dome united, extolled
and linkedin courtesy nirvana.
I recall father, (now behold
at near ninety years old - maintains stronghold
on life, cuz born of sturdy mettle -
rumor claims bullion – ne'er did buckle nar fold
meaning bull + lion rolled
together and processed

April 9th, nineteen twenty nine),
fortune teller foretold
envious longevity, perhaps
just shy of eternity
older than anyone polled
occasionally got a bit

short tempered as patriarch
( ~6'2” ~ 200 lbs at prime)
over any five members of Harris household
with me, and timid, meek,
and fawning did scold,
and mother, (who passed away

after completing seventy plus orbits, all told,
sans November 13th, nineteen thirty five),
no matter both parents (more mom)
did abhor applying stronghold
tactics vis a vis corporal punishment,
though the late Harriet Harris, not so gold

din as totally carefree disciplinarian
confessed many moons ex post facto lost hold
of her appreciable tolerance,
than quickly crumbled like broken scaffold
after she spanked this monkey upon bony posterior
(an endearment, but NOT spanking

ever since mama did withhold
though kept pet name, which
ideally suited me as a little boy),
both her hands went limp and cold
apology immediately iterated,
cuz she felt mortified, and sold

reparation with self restraint
against further instances tubby brazenly bold
possibly contributed,
fostered, and inculcated mold
ding mine shy characteristic.

Me, this twangy nasal kid
(courtesy of split uvula we did
discover rather a speech pathologist
six grade minor congenital defect

i.e., submucous cleft palate), aforesaid
I experienced interminable
relentlessly psyche burning acrid
tormenting, teasing, and talking funny

this vulnerability compounded amid
my undersized and socially withdrawn demeanor
whereby every day akin getting scorched
by some "NON FAKE" ironclad grid!
Yours truly (an amazingly,
gracefully, and markedly modest
passively aging baby boomer -
formerly introverted long haired
pencil necked geek),
prattling wordsmith doth behold
nostalgic memories regarding father
(Boyce Brandon Harris)
long ago lapsed decades

during papa's prime time
many years past when complacence
existed about joie de vivre,
and considerations about mortality irrelevant,
where soothsayers promised
our family staying alive for eternity
few and far between instances found me
acting, exhibiting, illustrating brazenly bold
behavior, said rare spontaneity
the exception versus the rule,

hence following poem crafted
an endearment to those who begat me,
resorted to discipline, but NO spanking
ever since mama did cherish her little boy
scores of years before she passed away
at her death hands went limp and cold
as a shy lad his maternal and paternal parents
their virtues he extolled
contrary, now healthy sexagenarian
born of sturdy genetic mettle

rumor claims I suckled magic potion,
cuz courtesy to preventative medicine
mother followed advice
of one Carlton Fredericks,
renown radio commentator
and writer on health and nutrition
ne'er did mine lovely bones buckle,
even when skinny body crushingly embraced
into loving maternal fold,
without doubt mama adored motherhood
and brood of three offspring

harmonized, memorialized, pampered...
the hardworking de facto breadwinner
late twenty something handsome groom fêted
born April 9th, nineteen twenty nine,
Brooklyn fortune teller travails foretold,
when the late Harriet Harris, not so gold
din as totally bewitched, she gamely evinced
controlling authoritarian versus
crooning, marveling, and warbling
regarding once "little monkey" - me,

which pet name no longer applied
shucked off brought to abrupt halt
as yours truly grew up,
and decried childhood's end
I experienced objection to thwart growing up,
and latched unto anorexia nervosa
countless moons ago,
when I biologically, emotionally,  
intellectually, and sexually transitioned
into socially withdrawn young man,
once indomitable omnipotent

mother/son bond ex post facto lost hold,
where once applicable theme
exemplifying Harris household
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
dramatically, markedly plummeting
formerly measurable appreciable tolerance,
similarly short tempered patriarch
( ~6'2” ~ 200 lbs at prime)
over any five members,
especially toward singular male offspring

timid, meek, and demure (effeminate) me,
essentially ruled the roost
regarding Harris household
sole son characterized vis a vis
presented passive resistant
outward nonestablishmentarian mold
worst case scenario
would hypothetically witness
Matthew Scott Harris
spending longevity old and feeble minded
at 324 Level Road

outliving parents, pets
(comprising inordinate
number of dust bunnies) and siblings,
both caring and concerned girls
(an older and younger sister),
the latter whose globetrotting exploits I envied,
nevertheless yours truly
speculatively imagined himself
to have outlived anyone polled
even Methuselah, where mein kampf
blissful, fanciful, nouveau poet
nearly long forgotten boyhood charade,
facade inlaid masquerade

analogously crumbled like broken scaffold
attaining centenarian years old -
faintly maintaining umbilical stronghold
considerably surpassing mommy dearest,
born November 13th, nineteen thirty five,
yet moments before her passing
she barely audibly apologized
for occasions she did reprimand and scold
retaliated against grim reaper,
he whisked her diseased riddled body away
after completing approximately
seventy plus orbits, all told.

I experienced interminable
relentlessly psyche burning acrid
tormenting, teasing, and talking funny
bullying vulnerability compounded amid
courtesy of split uvula set me apart
alien as a Druid livingsocial
during latter half of twentieth
and first two plus decades
of twenty first century
rather a speech pathologist
informed legal biological guardians

regarding Lancaster Cleft Palate Clinic
minor congenital defect when
attending sixth grade at
Henry Kline Boyer Elementary
i.e., submucous cleft palate, aforesaid
whereby every day akin getting scorched
by some "NON FAKE" ironclad grid
me, this twangy nasal kid
my undersized and socially
withdrawn demeanor contributing
to existence tumultuous and turbid.

Extreme shyness demeanor
did heavily exhibit
as if burdened with a yoke
linkedin with anatomical diminutiveness
punctuated with aforementioned
pinched nose adenoidal sound,
quite obvious when I infrequently spoke
conveniently availed himself
as cannon fodder i.e. scapegoat to bullies
as a socially withdrawn pre/
post pubescent slowpoke.
Yours truly (an amazingly,
gracefully, and markedly modest
passively aging baby boomer -
formerly introverted long haired
pencil necked geek),
prattling wordsmith doth behold
nostalgic memories regarding father
(Boyce Brandon Harris)
long ago lapsed decades

during papa's prime time
many years past when complacence
existed about joie de vivre,
and considerations about mortality irrelevant,
where soothsayers promised
our family staying alive for eternity
few and far between instances found me
acting, exhibiting, illustrating brazenly bold
behavior, said rare spontaneity
the exception versus the rule,

hence following poem crafted
an endearment to those who begat me,
resorted to discipline, but NO spanking
ever since mama did cherish her little boy
scores of years before she passed away
at her death hands went limp and cold
as a shy lad his maternal and paternal parents
their virtues he extolled
contrary,  now healthy sexagenarian
born of sturdy genetic mettle

rumor claims I suckled magic potion,
cuz courtesy to preventative medicine
mother followed advice of Carlton Fredericks,
renown radio commentator
and writer on health and nutrition
ne'er did mine lovely bones buckle,
even when skinny body crushingly embraced
into loving maternal fold,
without doubt mama adored motherhood
and brood of three offspring

harmonized, memorialized, pampered...
the hardworking de facto breadwinner
late twenty something handsome groom fêted
born April 9th, nineteen twenty nine,
Brooklyn fortune teller travails foretold,
when the late Harriet Harris, not so gold
din as totally bewitched, she gamely evinced
controlling authoritarian versus
crooning, marveling, and warbling
regarding once "little monkey" - me,

which pet name no longer applied
shucked off brought to abrupt halt
as yours truly grew up,
and decried childhood's end
I experienced objection to thwart growing up,
and latched unto anorexia nervosa
countless moons ago,
when I biologically, emotionally sexually transitioned 
into socially withdrawn young man,
once indomitable omnipotent

mother/son bond ex post facto lost hold,
where once applicable theme
exemplifying Harris household
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
dramatically, markedly plummeting
formerly measurable appreciable tolerance,
similarly short tempered patriarch
( ~6'2” ~ 200 lbs at prime)
over any five members,
especially toward singular male offspring

timid, meek, and demure (effeminate) me,
essentially ruled the roost
regarding Harris household
sole son characterized vis a vis
presented passive resistant
outward nonestablishmentarian mold
worst case scenario
would witness Matthew Scott Harris
spending longevity old and feeble minded
at 324 Level Road

outliving parents, pets
(comprising inordinate
number of dust bunnies) and siblings
(an older and younger sister),
the latter whose globetrotting exploits I envied,
nevertheless outlived anyone polled
even Methuselah, where mein kampf
blissful, fanciful, nouveau poet
nearly long forgotten boyhood charade,
facade inlaid masquerade

crumbled like broken scaffold
attaining centenarian years old -
faintly maintaining umbilical stronghold
considerably surpassing mommy dearest,
born November 13th, nineteen thirty five,
yet moments before her passing
she barely audibly apologized
for occasions she did reprimand and scold
retaliated against grim reaper,
he whisked her diseased riddled body away
after completing seventy plus orbits, all told.

I experienced interminable
relentlessly psyche burning acrid
tormenting, teasing, and talking funny
bullying vulnerability compounded amid
courtesy of split uvula set me apart
alien as a Druid livingsocial
during latter half of twentieth
and first two decades of twenty first century
rather a speech pathologist
informed legal biological guardians

regarding Lancaster Cleft Palate Clinic
minor congenital defect when
attending sixth grade at
Henry Kline Boyer Elementary
i.e., submucous cleft palate, aforesaid
whereby every day akin getting scorched
by some "NON FAKE" ironclad grid
me, this twangy nasal kid
my undersized and socially
withdrawn demeanor contributing
to existence tumultuous and turbid.
Cedric McClester Nov 2020
By: Cedric McClester

Fox News makes me laugh
With their fuzzy math
Three against seventy-nine
Is a **** poor paradigm
For overturning an election
Where the American people
Have already made their selection
In the opposite direction

Although his skin is thin
There’s no way Trump can win
The transition should therefore begin
Immediately and he should resend
His order to his minions not to cooperate
Cuz that won’t change his fate
The one he has to anticipate
Going into the prison gate

The Republicans should be ashamed
To be caught up in Trump’s game
And pretend that it’s all the same
When the picture is out of the frame
They’re so afraid of his Twitter tweet
That they bow down at his feet
Trying to avoid the fate they might meet
Because it’s said revenge can be sweet

Seventy-nine percent of those polled
Believe Biden’s election will hold
And if I may be so bold
Trump’s resistance is leaving us cold
He’s gotta give up the ghost
And begin to realize that he’s toast
Before his **** is the roast
That we slice off the most












Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2020.  All rights reserved.
Cedric McClester Mar 2020
By: Cedric McClester

Worldwide panic has taken hold
Due to the Corona Vrus (from what I’m told)
In real time we’re seeing it unfold
And tickets to Cancun can’t be sold
People are afraid to go anywhere
Whether it’s irrational they choose to err
On the side of caution rather than go there
Although it ain’t just Mexico to be fair

You can catch it in a lotta places
So try to avoid confined spaces
Somebody sneezes (there goes a hundred more cases)
And you may be the one that the virus chases


But there are precautions you can take
Wash your hands frequently (and for heaven’s sake)
Don’t touch your mouth after a handshake
By all means avoid making that mistake
These are simple things that you can do
In an effort to avoid the Corona Virus or any Flu
Although it’s simple it’s no less true
And now that you know it’s on you - cos

You can catch it in a lotta places
So try to avoid confined spaces
Somebody sneezes (there goes a hundred more cases)
And you may be the one that the flu bug chases


Worldwide panic has taken hold
Despite the quick responses
From the governments polled
And the measures they’ve taken
That have been quite bold
To bring their countries back in the fold
You can catch it in a lotta places
So try to avoid confined spaces
Somebody sneezes (there goes a hundred more cases)
And you may be the one that the flu bug chases

Seems it’s even worst
Than it at first appeared
Which was the main thing
All those governments feared
Is it any wonder panic has set in
Look at everywhere (that the Corona Virus has  been)
Then say a silent prayer
Can I hear an amen

But there are precautions you can take
Wash your hands frequently (and for heaven’s sake)
Don’t touch your mouth after a handshake
By all means avoid making that mistake
These are simple things that you can do
In an effort to avoid the Swine or any Flu


Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2020.  All rights reserved.
Worldwide Panic are song lyrics that I wrote in 2009  about the Swine Flew. but it could have been about the Corona Virus.

— The End —