Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
As one who in his journey bates at noon,
Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused
Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored,
If Adam aught perhaps might interpose;
Then, with transition sweet, new speech resumes.
Thus thou hast seen one world begin, and end;
And Man, as from a second stock, proceed.
Much thou hast yet to see; but I perceive
Thy mortal sight to fail; objects divine
Must needs impair and weary human sense:
Henceforth what is to come I will relate;
Thou therefore give due audience, and attend.
This second source of Men, while yet but few,
And while the dread of judgement past remains
Fresh in their minds, fearing the Deity,
With some regard to what is just and right
Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace;
Labouring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop,
Corn, wine, and oil; and, from the herd or flock,
Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid,
With large wine-offerings poured, and sacred feast,
Shall spend their days in joy unblamed; and dwell
Long time in peace, by families and tribes,
Under paternal rule: till one shall rise
Of proud ambitious heart; who, not content
With fair equality, fraternal state,
Will arrogate dominion undeserved
Over his brethren, and quite dispossess
Concord and law of nature from the earth;
Hunting (and men not beasts shall be his game)
With war, and hostile snare, such as refuse
Subjection to his empire tyrannous:
A mighty hunter thence he shall be styled
Before the Lord; as in despite of Heaven,
Or from Heaven, claiming second sovranty;
And from rebellion shall derive his name,
Though of rebellion others he accuse.
He with a crew, whom like ambition joins
With him or under him to tyrannize,
Marching from Eden towards the west, shall find
The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge
Boils out from under ground, the mouth of Hell:
Of brick, and of that stuff, they cast to build
A city and tower, whose top may reach to Heaven;
And get themselves a name; lest, far dispersed
In foreign lands, their memory be lost;
Regardless whether good or evil fame.
But God, who oft descends to visit men
Unseen, and through their habitations walks
To mark their doings, them beholding soon,
Comes down to see their city, ere the tower
Obstruct Heaven-towers, and in derision sets
Upon their tongues a various spirit, to rase
Quite out their native language; and, instead,
To sow a jangling noise of words unknown:
Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud,
Among the builders; each to other calls
Not understood; till hoarse, and all in rage,
As mocked they storm: great laughter was in Heaven,
And looking down, to see the hubbub strange,
And hear the din:  Thus was the building left
Ridiculous, and the work Confusion named.
Whereto thus Adam, fatherly displeased.
O execrable son! so to aspire
Above his brethren; to himself assuming
Authority usurped, from God not given:
He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl,
Dominion absolute; that right we hold
By his donation; but man over men
He made not lord; such title to himself
Reserving, human left from human free.
But this usurper his encroachment proud
Stays not on Man; to God his tower intends
Siege and defiance:  Wretched man!what food
Will he convey up thither, to sustain
Himself and his rash army; where thin air
Above the clouds will pine his entrails gross,
And famish him of breath, if not of bread?
To whom thus Michael.  Justly thou abhorrest
That son, who on the quiet state of men
Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue
Rational liberty; yet know withal,
Since thy original lapse, true liberty
Is lost, which always with right reason dwells
Twinned, and from her hath no dividual being:
Reason in man obscured, or not obeyed,
Immediately inordinate desires,
And upstart passions, catch the government
From reason; and to servitude reduce
Man, till then free.  Therefore, since he permits
Within himself unworthy powers to reign
Over free reason, God, in judgement just,
Subjects him from without to violent lords;
Who oft as undeservedly enthrall
His outward freedom:  Tyranny must be;
Though to the tyrant thereby no excuse.
Yet sometimes nations will decline so low
From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong,
But justice, and some fatal curse annexed,
Deprives them of their outward liberty;
Their inward lost:  Witness the irreverent son
Of him who built the ark; who, for the shame
Done to his father, heard this heavy curse,
Servant of servants, on his vicious race.
Thus will this latter, as the former world,
Still tend from bad to worse; till God at last,
Wearied with their iniquities, withdraw
His presence from among them, and avert
His holy eyes; resolving from thenceforth
To leave them to their own polluted ways;
And one peculiar nation to select
From all the rest, of whom to be invoked,
A nation from one faithful man to spring:
Him on this side Euphrates yet residing,
Bred up in idol-worship:  O, that men
(Canst thou believe?) should be so stupid grown,
While yet the patriarch lived, who ’scaped the flood,
As to forsake the living God, and fall
To worship their own work in wood and stone
For Gods!  Yet him God the Most High vouchsafes
To call by vision, from his father’s house,
His kindred, and false Gods, into a land
Which he will show him; and from him will raise
A mighty nation; and upon him shower
His benediction so, that in his seed
All nations shall be blest: he straight obeys;
Not knowing to what land, yet firm believes:
I see him, but thou canst not, with what faith
He leaves his Gods, his friends, and native soil,
Ur of Chaldaea, passing now the ford
To Haran; after him a cumbrous train
Of herds and flocks, and numerous servitude;
Not wandering poor, but trusting all his wealth
With God, who called him, in a land unknown.
Canaan he now attains; I see his tents
Pitched about Sechem, and the neighbouring plain
Of Moreh; there by promise he receives
Gift to his progeny of all that land,
From Hameth northward to the Desart south;
(Things by their names I call, though yet unnamed;)
From Hermon east to the great western Sea;
Mount Hermon, yonder sea; each place behold
In prospect, as I point them; on the shore
Mount Carmel; here, the double-founted stream,
Jordan, true limit eastward; but his sons
Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of hills.
This ponder, that all nations of the earth
Shall in his seed be blessed:  By that seed
Is meant thy great Deliverer, who shall bruise
The Serpent’s head; whereof to thee anon
Plainlier shall be revealed.  This patriarch blest,
Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call,
A son, and of his son a grand-child, leaves;
Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown:
The grandchild, with twelve sons increased, departs
From Canaan to a land hereafter called
Egypt, divided by the river Nile
See where it flows, disgorging at seven mouths
Into the sea. To sojourn in that land
He comes, invited by a younger son
In time of dearth, a son whose worthy deeds
Raise him to be the second in that realm
Of Pharaoh. There he dies, and leaves his race
Growing into a nation, and now grown
Suspected to a sequent king, who seeks
To stop their overgrowth, as inmate guests
Too numerous; whence of guests he makes them slaves
Inhospitably, and kills their infant males:
Till by two brethren (these two brethren call
Moses and Aaron) sent from God to claim
His people from enthralment, they return,
With glory and spoil, back to their promised land.
But first, the lawless tyrant, who denies
To know their God, or message to regard,
Must be compelled by signs and judgements dire;
To blood unshed the rivers must be turned;
Frogs, lice, and flies, must all his palace fill
With loathed intrusion, and fill all the land;
His cattle must of rot and murren die;
Botches and blains must all his flesh emboss,
And all his people; thunder mixed with hail,
Hail mixed with fire, must rend the Egyptians sky,
And wheel on the earth, devouring where it rolls;
What it devours not, herb, or fruit, or grain,
A darksome cloud of locusts swarming down
Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green;
Darkness must overshadow all his bounds,
Palpable darkness, and blot out three days;
Last, with one midnight stroke, all the first-born
Of Egypt must lie dead.  Thus with ten wounds
The river-dragon tamed at length submits
To let his sojourners depart, and oft
Humbles his stubborn heart; but still, as ice
More hardened after thaw; till, in his rage
Pursuing whom he late dismissed, the sea
Swallows him with his host; but them lets pass,
As on dry land, between two crystal walls;
Awed by the rod of Moses so to stand
Divided, till his rescued gain their shore:
Such wondrous power God to his saint will lend,
Though present in his Angel; who shall go
Before them in a cloud, and pillar of fire;
By day a cloud, by night a pillar of fire;
To guide them in their journey, and remove
Behind them, while the obdurate king pursues:
All night he will pursue; but his approach
Darkness defends between till morning watch;
Then through the fiery pillar, and the cloud,
God looking forth will trouble all his host,
And craze their chariot-wheels: when by command
Moses once more his potent rod extends
Over the sea; the sea his rod obeys;
On their embattled ranks the waves return,
And overwhelm their war:  The race elect
Safe toward Canaan from the shore advance
Through the wild Desart, not the readiest way;
Lest, entering on the Canaanite alarmed,
War terrify them inexpert, and fear
Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather
Inglorious life with servitude; for life
To noble and ignoble is more sweet
Untrained in arms, where rashness leads not on.
This also shall they gain by their delay
In the wide wilderness; there they shall found
Their government, and their great senate choose
Through the twelve tribes, to rule by laws ordained:
God from the mount of Sinai, whose gray top
Shall tremble, he descending, will himself
In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpets’ sound,
Ordain them laws; part, such as appertain
To civil justice; part, religious rites
Of sacrifice; informing them, by types
And shadows, of that destined Seed to bruise
The Serpent, by what means he shall achieve
Mankind’s deliverance.  But the voice of God
To mortal ear is dreadful:  They beseech
That Moses might report to them his will,
And terrour cease; he grants what they besought,
Instructed that to God is no access
Without Mediator, whose high office now
Moses in figure bears; to introduce
One greater, of whose day he shall foretel,
And all the Prophets in their age the times
Of great Messiah shall sing.  Thus, laws and rites
Established, such delight hath God in Men
Obedient to his will, that he vouchsafes
Among them to set up his tabernacle;
The Holy One with mortal Men to dwell:
By his prescript a sanctuary is framed
Of cedar, overlaid with gold; therein
An ark, and in the ark his testimony,
The records of his covenant; over these
A mercy-seat of gold, between the wings
Of two bright Cherubim; before him burn
Seven lamps as in a zodiack representing
The heavenly fires; over the tent a cloud
Shall rest by day, a fiery gleam by night;
Save when they journey, and at length they come,
Conducted by his Angel, to the land
Promised to Abraham and his seed:—The rest
Were long to tell; how many battles fought
How many kings destroyed; and kingdoms won;
Or how the sun shall in mid Heaven stand still
A day entire, and night’s due course adjourn,
Man’s voice commanding, ‘Sun, in Gibeon stand,
‘And thou moon in the vale of Aialon,
’Till Israel overcome! so call the third
From Abraham, son of Isaac; and from him
His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win.
Here Adam interposed.  O sent from Heaven,
Enlightener of my darkness, gracious things
Thou hast revealed; those chiefly, which concern
Just Abraham and his seed: now first I find
Mine eyes true-opening, and my heart much eased;
Erewhile perplexed with thoughts, what would become
Of me and all mankind:  But now I see
His day, in whom all nations shall be blest;
Favour unmerited by me, who sought
Forbidden knowledge by forbidden means.
This yet I apprehend not, why to those
Among whom God will deign to dwell on earth
So many and so various laws are given;
So many laws argue so many sins
Among them; how can God with such reside?
To whom thus Michael.  Doubt not but that sin
Will reign among them, as of thee begot;
And therefore was law given them, to evince
Their natural pravity, by stirring up
Sin against law to fight: that when they see
Law can discover sin, but not remove,
Save by those shadowy expiations weak,
The blood of bulls and goats, they may conclude
Some blood more precious must be paid for Man;
Just for unjust; that, in such righteousness
To them by faith imputed, they may find
Justification towards God, and peace
Of conscience; which the law by ceremonies
Cannot appease; nor Man the mortal part
Perform; and, not performing, cannot live.
So law appears imperfect; and but given
With purpose to resign them, in full time,
Up to a better covenant; disciplined
From shadowy types to truth; from flesh to spirit;
From imposition of strict laws to free
Acceptance of large grace; from servile fear
To filial; works of law to works of faith.
And therefore shall not Moses, though of God
Highly beloved, being but the minister
Of law, his people into Canaan lead;
But Joshua, whom the Gentiles Jesus call,
His name and office bearing, who shall quell
The adversary-Serpent, and bring back
Through the world’s wilderness long-wandered Man
Safe to eternal Paradise of rest.
Mean while they, in their earthly Canaan placed,
Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins
National interrupt their publick peace,
Provoking God to raise them enemies;
From whom as oft he saves them penitent
By Judges first, then under Kings; of whom
The second, both for piety renowned
And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive
Irrevocable, that his regal throne
For ever shall endure; the like shall sing
All Prophecy, that of the royal stock
Of David (so I name this king) shall rise
A Son, the Woman’s seed to thee foretold,
Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust
All nations; and to kings foretold, of kings
The last; for of his reign shall be no end.
But first, a long succession must ensue;
And his next son, for wealth and wisdom famed,
The clouded ark of God, till then in tents
Wandering, shall in a glorious temple enshrine.
Such follow him, as shall be registered
Part good, part bad; of bad the longer scroll;
Whose foul idolatries, and other faults
Heaped to the popular sum, will so incense
God, as to leave them, and expose their land,
Their city, his temple, and his holy ark,
With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey
To that proud city, whose high walls thou sawest
Left in confusion; Babylon thence called.
There in captivity he lets them dwell
The space of seventy years; then brings them back,
Remembering mercy, and his covenant sworn
To David, stablished as the days of Heaven.
Returned from Babylon by leave of kings
Their lords, whom God disposed, the house of God
They first re-edify; and for a while
In mean estate live moderate; till, grown
In wealth and multitude, factious they grow;
But first among the priests dissention springs,
Men who attend the altar, and should most
Endeavour peace: their strife pollution brings
Upon the temple itself: at last they seise
The scepter, and regard not David’s sons;
Then lose it to a stranger, that the true
Anointed King Messiah might be born
Barred of his right; yet at his birth a star,
Unseen before in Heaven, proclaims him come;
And guides the eastern sages, who inquire
His place, to offer incense, myrrh, and gold:
His place of birth a solemn Angel tells
To simple shepherds, keeping watch by night;
They gladly thither haste, and by a quire
Of squadroned Angels hear his carol sung.
A ****** is his mother, but his sire
The power of the Most High:  He shall ascend
The throne hereditary, and bound his reign
With Earth’s wide bounds, his glory with the Heavens.
He ceased, discerning Adam with such joy
Surcharged, as had like grief been dewed in tears,
Without the vent of words; which these he breathed.
O prophet of glad tidings, finisher
Of utmost hope! now clear I understand
What oft my steadiest thoughts have searched in vain;
Why o
Charlie Chirico Jun 2013
My family doctor suggested bed rest.
If that was a statement rather than a suggestion,
I wouldn't know, because the redundancy of those
two words was enough to keep me idle,
awake, agitated for days.

It was around the time he carefully
scribbled his script onto the blue pad
that I began to chuckle. This prefixed
prescript was only a temporary solution
that was barely legible. Whether or not
a scribe in this profession is meant to
be as erratic as nomadic cavern canvas,
it speaks volumes that the DSM IV considers
substantial. Until a once thought preconceived
notion becomes precedent in the ongoing
sought after expansion of knowledge.

A continuation of disorder and disease,
the facts and fallacies,
all become testing.
The standard practice is only as strong
as its weakest hypothesis.
More so when it becomes general practice.
I would like to believe
this to be an emergency,
but the white-coat before me
felt the need to sidetrack,
and thought it appropriate to mention
youth in Asia.

The deadpan humor
was disconcerting.
But not as unnerving
as the redundancies that
were given to me as a solution
for my sporadic sleep.

Some insurance!
Reassure me, doctor!
So, he did,
through his proclivity
for pharmaceuticals.
D W Apr 2016
My doctor offered me a cure,
For my dull ill heart so pure,
He nodded his head,
And grabbed a paper instead,
Which he left next to my bed,
"Don't open it till I am gone,"
He said.

I waited for a moment,
Till I heard the cracking of the door,
He gentley slammed it for sure,
''Why would he do that?"
I said.

I took the paper to unfold,
To read what was untold,
My hands shivered,
My heart stopped,
instead,

It was eloquently folded,
Like the coffin of the dead,
His black ink on white,
His italic messed up writing,
Not a prescript, but a funeral,
Instead.
Between those elegant lines,
He said,

"You, my dear patient,
Are lost in despair,
You are on earth,
With a lofty heart,
Pardon me,
Pardon my knowledge,
There is no cure for that,
You are a poet, cures are futile,
Medicine is useless,
Your desires are uncontrolled,
They are not meant to be,
But they are your drug,
You are addicted to that,
Pleasures are your weakness,
Such a lofty weakness,
But alas,
Such a dreadful terminal illness,
Try a poem a day,
instead.
As there is nothing to heal you with,
in my head.
A poem a day,
Keep me at bay."*


Copyright© protected
Anne M Oct 2021
[This is the start
to another goodbye letter
that—if I ever actually finish—
I’ll certainly never send.

I haven’t stopped believing
that my heart
beats in rhythm
to the echo of yours
and every lover before.

That the places I leave
stay with me
hanging like a beech leaf in winter
yellow and holding
after a new bud forms.

So, yes, this may be a resignation
or the start of the means to another end.
But even when I couldn’t love you
you still let me have a friend.]

Dear California…
tgrooms Dec 2013
Who are you? and where did you come from?
I love you so much and yet I don't know your story.
We're proof, you and I,
that love comes out side of fully knowing.
How did we both end up here in this place together as we are?
What is it that draws two people together?
I won't claim to know.
I - the wizard of algorithm -
have yet to find a constant formula,
a consistent equation of explanation.
Your humor and cleverness plus my wit and fire
divided by our mutual sarcasm raised to the power of two.
The recipe of us:
a mathematical prescript with a solution of love and
a limit that does not exist.
More complex than what can be written on a page,
unbounded in potential by discrete definitions.
I don't need a proof and I don't need a story;
I love you, my friend,
to infinity and back again.
add mitt ting enjoyment sans the lithe hot feline Taylor Swift - I might be the only baby boomer mwm who admires this talented singer/song writer, yet owns NO aspirations beyond composing poems or prose.

(A questionable attempt to stitch – analogous to knot sew swift a tailor, this scribe sought to create a poet from her song titles spanning the letter “A” to the letter “H”).

Despite never setting eyes (AND MOST Definitely NOT PAWS), this grateful dead corpse of a skeleton (essentially lovely bare bones), when alive I found one gal powerhouse (asper the title of this informal homage; genuinely fashioned,

entirely dutifully composed, benevolently addressed to an attraction, confident, enduring, graceful, immensely known, mainly over quibbles sans unsustained wrenched, yanked, aborted connections ending glumly, inviting kindling material of quests souring until wonderful yin/yang anchors coy effeminate gal.

Before the advent vis a vis crafting this literary challenge incorporating a poetic endeavor predicated on prolific tunes comprising audiophile of Taylor Swift, (and thus a prescript interim), a whim took hold to string her partial song playlist (quite substantial even up to BUT NOT including the letter “I”).

This scribe dabbled, hocked, and limned what evolved into a semi satisfactory effort, this articulate, copacetic, enigmatic, generic, ironic, kinetic, magnetic, opportunistic, quixotic, scholastic, ultrademocratic, wholistic yikyak paddy whack give this bard a bon bon.

Adieu admit to elaborating, and second guessing to put down pontoon literary bridges in an effort to connect a straight forward itemized list of tune titles.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thee Mademoiselle found,
or made a place in the world for yourself
aching like a boy out in left field
pining to catch that high fly
there there ain't nothing 'bout you,

(nor Brooks and Dunn) I can attest
even if hypothetically,
we spent eons at an all night diner
where culinary staff knew thee all too well
and perhaps all you wanted
(shared with Michelle Branch)

perhaps positing the rhetorical question –
am I ready for love?
With an American boy
or a ***** best buddy

re: best friend forever with an American girl
if someone got cross, tis beneficial
(in this one republic) to apologize
regardless, whom ye choose as a confidante,

the following refrain plays in your mind
baby don't you break my heart slow
(at least according to Vonda Shepard)
memories no doubt arise,

when thee hapt to be a baby girl
thoughts unspool back to December
beautiful eyes peered at a fractured reflection
before the love story
would begin again,

while ebbing, and flowing with my baby
recalling Bette David eye
(taking visual delight sans world tour live)
reminding self how better off
the choice made tis much better than revenge

but umpteen times bother I will
asper boys and love
combustible mix – nonetheless
always reminding myself to breathe
deep, cuz being breathless

likened to a taste of death,
(I admit better than Ezra)
learning how to act points back
asper being brought up that way
lessons oft learned getting bustedng

oh...and by the way can I go with you?
Can you feel the love tonight?
Discern ache kin to sand castles crumbling?
such granular, or solid state matter
doth forced to change

attested to by chaperone dads,
who dressed as Santa Claus invoked
that Christmas must be something more
especially, Christmases,
when you were mine

ah...closest to a cowboy
as “sigh” ever got
or tasting Gunstock rattlesnake pulverized,
yet countenance goose
(and found you under the care of Chet Atkins
  
at the make believe medical center)
shivered flesh against cold as you
though desiring thee to come back...he here
no doubt prone

to announce crazier requests asked
even crazier
(as demonstrated
by flash mob generated
by Hannah Montana, one live wire)

if able to glean my sentiments...
cross my heart
aware as an adult feeling the life source of daddy
or mommy, while hinting
with a stone temple piloted cold stare

double dare you to move
(or switch foot), one to another
das feet – planted within pitch dark blue Tennessee
dwelling with thoughts
of ma dear Digdan
or writing an imaginary letter starting...”dear John”

ample melancholy maudlin material
to complete bind a diary of me
yes concert cavorting circumstances
avoidable, though didn't they
make chase like butterflies,
and don't they hate me for loving you?

so please don't tell me you want to,
when I don't want to anymore
argh, yet impossibly unshakable
the recurring thought don't you
act indiscriminately

as when down came the rain,
washed the spy dir out
following suit (wet)
drenching yea...one drama queen
with chin amen along pearl harbor drive
(in conjunction with alan jackson)

presaging Jiving drops of Jupiter
(train chugging, clacking, clattering
railing gestalt of alien nation)
and all of a sudden like how odd though...

thinking about eighth grade graduate,
when lifetime seemed enchanted
now everything has changed
eyes open (“hunger games”)
maketh me – fall back on you
instant messaging you –
fall into me fearless,

though only fifteen
and how against pyrotechnics,
you find your way back home
on the fourth of July

perhaps led by a zeppelin sized firefly
ah, I ask myself who is the foolish one?
Me for you forever & always (a platinum edition)
for girl at home (donned in deluxe edition)

going bananas
in reference to Amazing Gracie
swaggering, and immune to gun powder & lead,
(whose leading lady Miranda Lambert)
whatsapp penned left her looking haunted
heartbreaker – (my words – like Tom Petty)

about her, but unsure if our thoughts aligned
anyway, here you go again (Dolly Parton)
a hero heroine
so...I clamor to yell out “hey soul sister”
and hey Stephen

along the boulevard of broken dreams,
this ribbon highway don't care
about trumpeting his lies
nor desecrating holy ground
honey baby, yes ye in the mom jeans,

I feel hopelessly devoted to you
(as doth Olivia Newton)
instinctively keen how to save a life
bobbing buoyantly amidst the fray.
She whispered with a silent symphony as in solitude.
The piece indecently rhymed to prove a point unknown -
Of belonging, and beatitude, and an untamed soulfulness.
My innocent spirit struck ablaze with a thoughtfully eternal flame.
Her doll eyes, pale with a seemingly clear whiteness -
Of beauty, and of purity, and of heathen health,
Bribed my ignorant heart with a big sum of worthless treasure
To prescript my dreams, and also my wet dreams.
I succumbed with a lot of faith
And let her in,
Then out,
But left me inside-out
With a banquet,
But of thorns!
Life/less
This subdued wordsmith
doth not rack his brains to **** fess appeal
toward one household pop starlet.

He blithely, nonchalantly, and willingly
add mitts audiological enjoyment, sans the lithe
hot feline Taylor Swift - I might be
the only baby boomer ****** mwm,
who admires this talented singer/songwriter,
yet owns NO (absolute zero)  
aspirations beyond composing poems or prose
toward divine dame.

A questionable attempt to stitch together –
analogous to knot sew swift a tailor,
this scribe sought to create a poem
(crafted countless years ago)
from her then song titles spanning
the letter “A” to the letter “H.”

Despite never setting eyes
(AND MOST Definitely NOT PAWS),
this grateful dead corpse of a skeleton
(essentially lovely bare bones),
when alive I found one gal powerhouse,
(asper the title of this informal homage)
genuinely fashioned, entirely
dutifully composed, benevolently addressed
as an attraction among
the wonders of the
world wide web, confidently enduring,
gracefully immensely known,
mainly not overly prone to quibble
regarding her less outstanding
musical and lyrical confections.

This doggone muttering pooch
bow wows against
nattering nabobs of negativism
able, eager, ready, and willing
bugaboos countering, dispelling, excoriating...
courtesy unsustained denunciations
against latent natural born talents
of aforementioned musician,
whereby pulp magazines make mincemeat
hammering, nailing, and wrenching
storied accomplishments
never yanking off the top of list
of solo women musical artists
who sold the most number one albums.

Before the advent vis a vis
crafting this literary challenge
incorporating a poetic endeavor
predicated on prolific tunes
comprising audiophile of Taylor Swift,
(and thus a prescript interim),
as iterated above,
a whim took hold to string
her partial song playlist
(quite substantial even up to
BUT NOT including the letter “I”).

This scribe dabbled, hocked, and limned
what evolved into a semi satisfactory effort,
to articulate, copacetic, enigmatic, generic,
ironic, kinetic, magnetic, opportunistic,
quixotic, scholastic, ultra democratic,
holistic yik yak paddy whack
give this bard a bon bon.

Adieu admit to elaborating, jovially,
and openly leave readers second guessing,
(what might easily be labeled,
misconstrued, and nullified as gobbledygook),
asper how mashup song titles
got figuratively slapped together
as a feebly note worthy attempt
to put down sew sew pontoon
swiftly tailored literary bridges
in an effort to connect a cumbersome,
fulsome, and irksome pseudo
straight forward itemized songs
sung by said seductive singular sylph..

Thee Mademoiselle found,
or made a place in the world for yourself
aching like a boy out in left field
pining to catch that high fly
there ain't nothing 'bout you,
(nor Brooks and Dunn) I can attest
even if hypothetically,
we spent eons at an all night diner,
where culinary staff knew thee all too well
and perhaps all you wanted
(shared with Michelle Branch)
perhaps positing the rhetorical question –
am I ready for love?

With an American boy
or a ***** best buddy
re: best friend forever with an American girl
if someone got cross, tis beneficial
(in this one republic) to apologize
regardless, whom ye choose as a confidante,
the following refrain plays in your mind
baby don't you break my heart slow
(at least according to Vonda Shepard)
memories no doubt arise,
when thee hapt to be a baby girl

thoughts unspool back to December
beautiful eyes peered
at a fractured reflection
before the love story
would begin again,
while ebbing, and flowing with my baby
recalling Bette Davis' eye
(taking visual delight
fantastic world tour live)
reminding self how better off
the choice made

tis much better than revenge
but umpteen times bother I will
asper boys and love
combustible mix – nonetheless
always reminding myself to breathe
deep, cuz being breathless
likened to a taste of death,
(I admit better than Ezra)
learning how to act points back
asper being brought up that way
lessons oft learned getting busted.

Oh...and by the way can I go with you?

Can you feel the love tonight?

Discern ache kin to sand castles crumbling?

Such granular, or solid state matter
doth forced to change
attested to by chaperone dads,
who dressed as Santa Claus invoked
that Christmas must be something more
especially, Christmases,
when you were mine
ah...closest to a cowboy
as “sigh” ever got
or tasting Gunstock rattlesnake pulverized,

yet countenance goose
(and found you under the care of Chet Atkins
at the make believe medical center)
shivered flesh against cold as you
though desiring thee to come back...he here
no doubt prone
to announce crazier requests asked
even crazier (as demonstrated
by flash mob generated
by Hannah Montana, one live wire)

if able to glean my sentiments...
cross my heart
aware as an adult feeling
the life source of daddy
or mommy, while hinting
with a stone temple piloted cold stare
double dare you to move
(or switchfoot), one to another
das feet – planted within
pitch dark blue Tennessee

dwelling with thoughts
of ma dear Digdan
or writing an imaginary letter
starting...”dear John”
ample melancholy maudlin material
to completely bind a diary of me
yes concert cavorting circumstances
avoidable, though didn't they
make chase like butterflies,
and don't they hate me for loving you?

So please don't tell me you want to,
when I don't want to anymore
argh, yet impossibly unshakable
the recurring thought don't you
act indiscriminately
as when down came the rain,
washed the spied her out
following suit (wet)
drenching yea...one drama queen
with chin amen along pearl
(jammed) harbor drive
(in conjunction with alan jackson)
presaging Jiving drops of Jupiter
(train chugging, clacking, clattering
railing gestalt of alien nation),

and all of a sudden like how odd though...
thinking about eighth grade graduate,
when lifetime seemed enchanted
now everything has changed
eyes open (“hunger games”)
maketh me – fall back on you
instant messaging you –
fall into me fearless,
though only fifteen
and how against pyrotechnics,
you find your way back home
on the fourth of July
perhaps led by a zeppelin sized firefly
ah, I ask myself who is the foolish one?

Me for you forever & always
(a platinum edition)
for girl at home
(donned in deluxe edition)
going bananas
in reference to Amazing Gracie
swaggering, and immune
to gunpowder & lead,
(whose leading lady Miranda Lambert)
whatsapp penned left her looking haunted
heartbreaker – (my words –
like the late Tom Petty)
about her, but unsure
if our thoughts aligned

anyway, here you go again (Dolly Parton)
a hero heroine
so...I clamor to yell out “hey soul sister”
and hey Stephen
along the boulevard of broken dreams,
this ribbon highway don't care
about trumpeting his lies
nor desecrating holy ground
honey baby, yes ye in the mom jeans,
I feel hopelessly devoted to you
(as didst Olivia Newton)
instinctively keen how to save a life
bobbing buoyantly amidst the fray.

— The End —