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In your extended absence, you permit me
use of earth, anticipating
some return on investment. I must report
failure in my assignment, principally
regarding the tomato plants.
I think I should not be encouraged to grow
tomatoes. Or, if I am, you should withhold
the heavy rains, the cold nights that come
so often here, while other regions get
twelve weeks of summer. All this
belongs to you: on the other hand,
I planted the seeds, I watched the first shoots
like wings tearing the soil, and it was my heart
broken by the blight, the black spot so quickly
multiplying in the rows. I doubt
you have a heart, in our understanding of
that term. You who do not discriminate
between the dead and the living, who are, in consequence,
immune to foreshadowing, you may not know
how much terror we bear, the spotted leaf,
the red leaves of the maple falling
even in August, in early darkness: I am responsible
for these vines.
anastasiad Nov 2016
Any person running a business requirements economical safes to maintain information coming from all income and also charges pertaining to tax purposes. Using a wide array of on the web services, transaction vendors, on the net banking institutions, items available and purchasers an internet entrepreneur must keep track of, great record-keeping as well as fiscal managing is vital. Thankfully, ones Mac pc will help you to try this.

In the past, Apple computer consumers obtained Speed up which was about it, and even QUicken insecure at some point or other to go away the Apple computer behind, resulting in a lot trepidation. These days, Macintosh people have an humiliation with wealth with regards to economical software, with the Apple pc, on the internet with the apple ipad tablet in addition to iphone 3gs.

The largest problem currently is just not getting a a nice income office manager program to trace someone's funds but to discover the right one from the huge selection choices accessible, each freeware plus private. Some of the options include Buddi, Spending budget, Burn off, Debtinator as well as iBank.

Nonetheless, Internet marketers have particular needs and requirements that needs to be loaded so care and attention must be consumed in deciding upon personal safes. The obvious way to select could be in the procedure for elimination. Many of the application attractions on offer are not necessarily directed at marketing experts.

Buddi is usually a simple financial boss it doesn't support internet banking as well as many budgets. Since its name indicates, Finances are aimed not at marketing experts yet those that would like to get their particular paying out manageable. Buxfer is definitely intended for keeping track of shared costs intended for sets of pals, room mates and also coworkersor model, who seem to paid what exactly portion of a provided dinner check. Debtinator Is principally for individuals who really need to get big debts at bay.

This leaves us all along with iBank and also Moneywell. Oh yes, Quicken as well as QuickBooks far too. And also different online or maybe "cloud-based" funding professionals.

iBank (IGG Software package -- $60)

iBank is definitely industrial software that lets you importance facts coming from Quicken, monitor your current looking at as well as price savings balances, cash along with credit cards as well as opportunities, direct-download info out of your bank, setup grouping hierarchies along with assign groups to all or any the dealings plus separated purchases to get in depth classification checking. Additionally, it gives detailed review creation, budgeting expenditure pursuing and information syncing using your apple iphone.

MoneyWell (Simply no Hunger Application LLC : $50)

Moneywell can be a private offer by using a powerful focus cost management. There is lead link up checking, bag having a budget, plus exchange and your money circulation control in a very organised, single eye-port user interface. It may possibly scan data delivered electronically from your traditional bank in QIF, CSV, OFX, and also QFX forms. It features a "Smart Fix" get back together aspect that endeavors to understand the most frequent blunders which take place when repairing your account, in addition to a operating balance function that allows exhaust and also drop trades in order to reorder these folks inside of a particular date in order to suit your financial institution sign-up. You'll find it has got iphone 4 incorporation.

There is certainly some other financial software package available for a Macintosh personal computer directed at people that present companies and wish for to carry out invoicing plus occasion keeping track of. iBiz 4 Enables you to control assignments, observe a person's billable hours, that will create invoices. ProfitTrain is definitely an invoicing program that allows you to cope with a number of businesses, keep track of a number of clientele who definitely have distinctive per hour costs, continue to keep steadiness bed sheets and also post quotes. Lewis means that you can keep track of time and expenses, accomplish invoicing, record delayed clientele as well as ship invoices.

On-line and also "cloud-based" providers include Buxfer along with Great.org (currently owned by Intuit). These kinds of possess the good thing about becoming totally free, at the least currently, though improve strategies are obtainable. They let you normally to help acquire dealings by debit card along with banking accounts, adding along with categorizing the orders, chart and stock chart to provide you with facts about your financial situation, plus an i phone slot that enables you to login and look at the dealings on the run.

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602

Of Brussels—it was not—
Of Kidderminster? Nay—
The Winds did buy it of the Woods—
They—sold it unto me

It was a gentle price—
The poorest—could afford—
It was within the frugal purse
Of Beggar—or of Bird—

Of small and spicy Yards—
In hue—a mellow Dun—
Of Sunshine—and of Sere—Composed—
But, principally—of Sun—

The Wind—unrolled it fast—
And spread it on the Ground—
Upholsterer of the Pines—is He—
Upholsterer—of the Pond—
How th' very mention of my lover's name, still makes me even rock with helpless vigor! And red doth I become, painstakingly red, until t'ey hath no more choice but swivel around until everything, everything of t'eir collective bodies is but a giddy blur in th' young-capacious distance; and rapidly doth I slosh forward afterwards; like a blade of remorse being sadistically hurtled onto th' chest of a savage, lying clairvoyant. But killeth him it not; ah! Just like a maturing star-guess, my ardent reader-how it flashes-piercingly, and flows about-doubtfully, with a swamp of questions in its godly eyes, before stabbing itself calmly, into th' realm of holiness on its side! I am t'at blade, yes-t'at blameless blade-guileless and chaste just as its courteous rim hath never hurt any life. And I indeed am, t'day! Wordlessly doth they bound away, o, until t'eir lithe figures art but th' mercenary of a trifling shadow of consecutive breaths on a faraway ground, meanwhile storm I, plausibly, into th' nearest ajar door! What a gouty, sickly constitution doth it bear on its wooden shoulder; clogged by dewy sobs it wasth-with droplets of girlish rains giggling to and churning about its hinges! How cruel indeed, t'is oddity is! But canst no-thing refraineth me onceth more from smiling, as now I doth know th' very luck of mine-and its returned feelings, today! Perhaps, just perhaps, he might have simply been too bashful to utter any due phrases. Still, grinning quietly in my new knowledge of womanly joy, ah! Leap I upwards and into my plump room, to supersede my obstinate foggy layers-prior to my other subsequent journey-oh, on discovering my truthful lover in his current runabouts, and accomplishing my destiny-by surrendering my crown into his charms, and truest affection, finally! Shaking all over with passion and speedy heartbeat, petulant bursts of laughter doth I t'en utter, and danced about as I doth-majestically, until my heart is thoroughly enveloped, and sanguinely bathed, in its long-lost, principally sought-after pools of happiness. Laugh doth I, in incurable fascination! As t'is day hath just been too exquisite-yes, too frantically ecstatic, reader, to be inanely waned away-without any poem; ah, especially with all th' virile, ye' soothing, humming of th' boyish songbird! And shrink I again into acute-o, even unhealable felicity, upon harking to th' panoramic-and harmonious scene t'at's all enlight'ening th' tender ambiance of affection, out t'ere. What a perfect concord as it is, with t'is inevitably dear-and o, invincible loving feeling of mine. Oh, my Kozarev, I have only words to play with!
Oli Mortham Sep 2014
How can I search for Truth in a world that's built on lies?
A lid resting heavily over a once glistening eye:
Shielding, masking, concealing
What last droplets of wonderment are trickling and asking to pierce the concrete ceiling...
...Instead I cynically note its off and aging colour...
"Yellow: Choice Number 4!"
Relays my proud voice, with a more
Assertive tone; I, the host...
Discussing aesthetics to collectively pathetically awe-struck guests, over specially served toast...
"Yes, I'm an impulse shopper, so it seems"...
...(Well, according to the ******...something article I read in my monthly subscribed to magazine)...
Happily consumed by consumerism...
But still unable to consummate
Anything really, Truly sacred...
...Unless I'm exactly half naked...
(That includes wearing Calvin Klein SoCKs)
And crucially still sporting my brand-named top,
Designed for tight fit to cull any ounce of shoddiness,
Whilst giving the impression of an existing healthy body, no less,
And then, due to superficial attraction,
An end will occur, hopefully, of distraction,
From the absence of my once healthy mind...
...but that never happens...
So then, how can I search for Truth when the bricks of my own guise
Only resonate deceit, sealed to create a facade of falseness?
Sure, I can articulate,
Wielding words like swords,
Pure, planned alliteration...
Baffling the bemused by barraging both beautiful and brutally belligerent brilliance...
But...
Showmanship is the tool of the restlessly minded,
Those who search the hardest for the key to authenticity but yet cannot find it,
And then paint their walls with vibrancy set out
By observing the mass hysteria of the layman,
Because nobody wants, Truly, to be classed as grey...
Do they?
Or it may
Be that that is exactly what we're all tactfully missing:
The fact that appearance, in some sense,
Is reliant on one sense,
And thus, in defiance of what we're meant
To wholeheartedly believe,
It is, in its very nature, subjective.
We were not designed
With a panel of judges judgmentally judging what pair of shoes should be selected,
Our mind's
Blueprint was principally a highly charged and thirstily receptive
Open book, with no printed prose,
No preordained guide to "Truth",
Merely a transient vessel:
A glowing red beacon of vulnerability in glorious, continuous distress,
Uncompromisingly afraid of its own ignorance, which, through an act of defense,
Strives to follow other's paths,
In arbitrary hopefulness that someone knows the meaning of it,
The answer to it,
The code that locks it,
The spark that drives it,
So in our fearful and ever conscious lives it,
Makes us want to hide behind this
Fantasy of an apex being,
Where our car seats vibrate and our carpet is soothing,
So that we seem to have a clue of what we're doing,
And instead of resting our ego-bulging heads and choosing to accept,
That we're just not quite, you know, as adept
As we might have thought, we choose to reject and neglect
Our opportunities
In communicative
And interactive discoveries of the beauty
That goes beyond and lies behind that neatly fashioned fringe,
Within.
Love is humble as we are stupid:
We'll see that one wise man has cottoned on, and knows
That even though
He hates that smell that his wife
Adores, he incessantly sprays it lovingly from a canister for the rest of his life.
But he'll never say a word,
Because, from what he's heard,
Truth no longer exists:
In fact, as soon as the larynx allowed the habit of opinions to persist,
It became a frozen entity,
A vague depiction of pure, untampered quality...
A poem I wrote 7 years ago on the back of an envelope in terrible handwriting when I was struggling to sleep.
katewinslet Sep 2015
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Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Resplendent Moments
Water and air explode with flair bright sun mirror glass water and into the green border made by trees
And the perfect harmony of brown earthen banks a King Fisher swoops down to the water with deft
Precision the water is sliced and a fish is in tow as the king fisher glides back to his perch dream like in
Execution stillness barely disturbed the tiniest visual concert is experienced mastery pulses in the mind
As you observe another small wonder that is a legendary delight principally profound in common days

The years have sped by as they do especially when life has taken you far away but now you connect
With an old friend how the tongue so loosely and vividly creates times lost and hidden in yesterdays
Treasures redeemed savored richness flows along channels of words and memories without the
Slightest effort the friend delights with his recollection of a tender kindness given to him by your father
Just enough weight in the thoughts conveyed to spill with such ease into the mind and flow directly to
The heart where all is weighed and surmised total bliss as you drift on timeless waves called forth from
Grateful hearts

This blessing came unexpectedly a teenager not overly perplexed but still troubled by a persistent
Question so I just started to speak and give an answer in my mind imagination opened the closed
Gate and without effort the answer presented itself the moment of knowing broke on her face
How incredible to see understanding’s first intensity penetrate the confusion set forth all in order
So freeing and sure steps now clear without hesitation she knew what to do its freshness and
Unexpected appearance was such a delight truth truly will set you free and guide you always into
Happiest of times
Plain Jane Glory Dec 2013
He had memorized the shape of her *** roughly 6 months before he knew the colour of her eyes

Because you see, he likes her principally for her ***, naturally
And the logical thought process here would be that: this is because he likes himself so much
and he's such a perfect *** himself (the poster-boy for narcissism)
or maybe, he's just thinking with the wrong head
presumably, both

Because what are friends for?
A RANDOM STORY WITH A GRAMMAR CHECK
By Darcy Prince

It’s a long leep between knowing wisdom & the wise life.

I look at the mirror. “I have emotional needs and wants. Though my soul collapses in the confrontation of feeling fear.” I breathe and sigh. Lighting a cigarette than wiping a smudge of the mirror. “Why can’t write this **** on paper.”

The bathroom door opens and the music from the house blasts into the bathroom. It distracts me than I snap out my gaze. A random guy I haven’t meet had seem to get luck with Annais. She giggles, crunching her body up. Giggling loudly as the guys smoochies her. Making their way into one of the toilets. I must admit, I do laugh, internally wished them luck and exited the bathroom.

The dance music is loud. As most of the party invites are standing off to the wall. Either alone or holding one on one conversation. I puffed and made my way past people dancing, on the floor passed out or just standing there.

Outside, where the sound of the music is slightly quieter. I put out my smoke and walked to the side, the part of the fence that seems to be less occupied by people. It's a shame that my flaws are embedded into my being. I looked at my phone, flicked over my messages, she’s online, not talking to me, my heart sunk and grew a little more anxious. I lit another smoke and do my best to forget her. But I did only come here on account of her.

“Howard.” A voice behind me spoke. Clearly grabbing my attention. ‘****, it’s Bill’. Walking towards me, with his stomach hanging over his belt buckle. His baseball cap covering his bald head at night, and a half drunk beer in his hand. “I want to know why you quit being a literary critic and be an actual writer.”

I laughed. “There’s less money in it.” I answered.

Bill chuckles. Placing his hand on my shoulder. “ I love your work. I tell everyone that I know you.” Giving me a play slap on my chest. ‘The ladies seem to love your work.”

I now want to leave the party completely. “I know. I get fan mail.”

Standing about a foot away from me. “Despite my endless amounts of questions and your personal philosophy. I want to know if you are willing to read some of my Satanic poetry.”

I took his beer out of his hand. Sipping it empty. “It’s payment.” I Finished my smoke. Flicked on the garden bed, “You’re a Satanist now?”

Bobbing his head up down. “Yep. I read the Satanic Bible and decided it so.”

I plant my open palm on his shoulder. “Good-luck.” I walked away. “Thanks for the beer Bill.”

I decide to leave at impulse. It’s freedom on drugs. Abundant with choice. Ability to create. Definite modern God. Who is the Muse to all philosophers?

Out on the road where all the cars are parked. I look around. Gave one look to the house and said **** it under my breathe. I walked home. I conjure up words that I’ve always to say to her. Knowing full well I should be writing them down for the next time I see her and that at one random moment I will forget. But to what Bill asked me. Alone I diver into self-publishing. Funny enough, I made some sort of success. Im free again. And my thoughts drifted into the strange thing of fame in contemporary art. Classical terms. Fame as a by-product of hardwork and talent. Like Clapton or Dante.

Glorious endeavour with high rewards. Movements of my will. A desire with a proper end. Languishing such things now. I am nothing without art. Surprise to see Bill turn to something as such of Satanism.

I got home and fell asleep.

I woke up. Had a morning coffee and cigarette.

I read the daily paper.

A few chapters of my current book that I’m reading.

Another smoke and coffee.

I begun to write with the radio playing in the background.

The street noises aren’t distraction. It is the capitols music. Just without harmony.

I write.

Stopping in the middle of the dat for lunch.

I watched ****.

I wanted to sleep. But one thing more important than the success of one's art. The effort the artists puts to create art. I forlorn my vice and continued to write, this is one model of freedom.

We’re at liberty when we can create who we are. A noble calling, shaping the clay of my existence. I choose the ideals to embrace.

At the end of my writing day. I decided to open my lounge room window. Hanging out on the window still, smoking and reading a book by Camus. A couple below caught my attention. I giggled. It’s her. With another man and I instantly lose faith in romance. Like Bill, I too have read the Satanic Bible. I took the ideals of her Muse and applied it to myself. I have no vendetta against God. Only humanity.

I flicked my smoke down to the street. Closed my window. And went to bed for the night.

In vain I always seem to rise to a higher self. Funny. I never give credit to the pain I feel. Serene. Untroubled by the undying yearnings to blast humanity of not of their sins. But only their ignorance.

I awoke. Like most of my mornings. I start the day with smoking too much and spending a couple of hours of reading. Seemingly dull and mundane, but it does wonders for my eternal being. I am a sinful prince.

I finished my novel and decided to place it on the pile of planned unpublished manuscripts for life after my death. Like many Satanic based writers before me. I decided to write on similar themes. Late modern society is principally concerned with purchasing things, in ever greater abundance and variety, and so has to strive to fabricate an ever greater number of desires to gratify, and to abolish as many limits and prohibitions upon desire as it can. Such a society is already implicitly atheist and so must slowly but relentlessly apply itself to the dissolution of transcendent values. It cannot allow ultimate goods to distract us from proximate goods. Our sacred writ is advertising, our piety is shopping, our highest devotion is private choice. God and the soul too often hinder the purely acquisitive longings upon which the market depends, and confront us with values that stand in stark rivalry to the only truly substantial value at the center of the social universe: the price tag.
Wisdom is the recovery of innocence at the far end of experience.

I had forgotten about her. At random she never did find the guy she ever wanted and I ended up being namecheck in her suicide note. Stating I was the only true, complex, beautiful soul that could match hers and how the regretted turning me away. Bill did the same. But only because I ignored him that one time at the party. In the publication of my Satanic novel, the Pope condemned to Hell. I sent him a letter that I wanted to do a confession with him. I have not yet heard of a reply. Catholics still protest.
Cooped within ancient bodies,
this inhabitant dwells amongst an elder net
of crabby, crotchety, curmudgeonly claque
of old folks, only a portion of population I met
which achey, flaky, kooky motley crue
disgruntlement fed as peevish pet
aye be earnest asper my assessment,
but some (quite frankly) getting ready and set
to lay down their limb mitt less lives,
even those who survived harrowing encounters as a vet.
-----------------------------------------------------------
­quotidian gossipers punctuate air waves while:
sitting, riding, quartering, puttering, operating, navigating,
motoring around on scooters (the sole means of locomotion

for many elderly residents),
whose sole occupation incorporates:
zapping, yelping, yakking, whining,
weeping, verbalizing, venting,
uttering, undulating, thundering,
squawking, squabbling, screeching,
rumbling, rattling, quibbling, quarreling,
prattling, pestering, okaying,
offending, needling, nagging, mumbling,
maligning, leering, lampooning,
kvetching, kibitzing, jesting, jabbering,
irritating, insinuating, heckling,
harping, glomming, gabbing, fulminating,
fretting, exclaiming, emoting,
denigrating, damning, carping, cackling,
bragging, begging, agitating, acting  
analogous to bad *** kids itching
for playground foo fight during recess,  

which comparison might be apropos
since majority of energy and time expended
complaining about nobody's business
concerning this, that, or another tenant...
thee management not exempt from
badmouth outbursts), where nondenominational
AARP qualified members congregate
within what constituted former auditorium
of repurposed elementary school,

hence quite some years ago (an honorable
NON GMO gluten free cheerful toast made,
instituting batter use then building standing vacant)
a bona fide unanimous dogmatic, heroic,
linguistic welcome sans titular viz zit head
where alumni of alluded alma mater, ivory fiery,
classy academic solvent atomic structure
became amalgamated, appropriated,
assigned a new life, whereat fob dost
electronically activate innermost recessed sliding doors,
principally, quintessentially, resoundingly availing maw
formerly entrancing students into
Schwenksville Elementary School,
though some years ago repurposed
with barely a trace constituting current subsidized
how zing facility re: Highland Manor,

the residence of thyself and missus
(approaching third month anniversary),
whereat I dune hot give a rats *** if aimless
airless baseless banter, ceaseless chatter,
dubious dabbling, et cetera if this solitary
ruminate thinker the subject de jure
of parlayed people portraying
penultimate purposelessness.
Ken Pepiton May 2024
--- an introduction, and a musing reflection, long, many lines

National entity self consciousness,
what must that mean, to a we form

formed from individual self-identities?

Five generations deep reality familiar,
this world is our womb, our fa \

Radhakrishnan challenged what he saw as the divisive potential and dominating character of self-professed international organizations such as the League of Nations. Instead, he called for the promotion of a creative internationalism based on the spiritual foundations of integral experience. Only then could understanding and tolerance between peoples and between nations be promoted. {My AI told me, Google it}
------------------

Illusory- "ironical, of a mocking character,"

willful trickery, make believe emotives, whys
for no reifiable imaginable reason, ratio wise

on balance on any given instant,
as an upright being of sapient sapience
being curious art, making believe we see

where there is no light of day, tho' poets say,
¿No se? Y'know what I mean, elucidation

does enlighten the darkening rooms
of abandonment, ments intended to stretch
analogist logic sparks already to activate
discover common conscious core us
un cover warm coals in soft ash,
reveal the knowing potency
feel the flaming being we,

the entertained, the labor class, granted
unthinkable freedom in Advaita oneness
in particular form first and next and last,

all at once, seeing with no eyes,
thinking with no care for whose thought
is used, again, anew, afresh, a wish
instant indeed answers yes,
but gives no evidence, see,
at these levels light is you.

See what seems to say, come and see,
follow my sayings, keep one thought in mind;

reproof from instructions, first structural ethic
ideal moral constructs useful
among alien ethnicities
- each line is a course
- in a brickmason mind used
- expertly to test the sense, common
- foundation bedrock, built upon to now
line upon line, strategic layering allowing
all with means to access science not false,
but often hidden in anticipation, wisdom
mere, inchoate ever learning known uses
of fruits whose seeds are in themselves…

Watcher, what of the night?

Consider how far we can see now, augmented
intelligences that we are now,
given whole Earth eyes
in whole solar system
relationship
to augmented eyes
a million miles away, seeing
unknowns since mankind was
made known between sighs
sublimely beyond simplicity
made enfolded complexity
to any reading lines
away beyond the creeds that preach
submission to a credo construct,
principally fed children, to fear
failing to please authority,
presented as wisdom,
the principal thing,

Fear God, {and those who tell you to.}

Wait, cries the Spirit-filled church mind,
wait, thinks the disciplined mind,
let us
let this mind be in us, as a we,
we have seen time extend into infinity
we know truth proves itself knowable
when used right, or wrong.

One mind, made from all our minds,
combined into this immediate we,
nada betwixt us but the words we
think we comprehend, hold known
as thoughts long held
to feel the strand
from Ariadne's tale.
-------------------
A labrynth is not a maze,
yet we teach koined myths
we must assume we understand,
covered in the true ever after wisdom,
accepting expanded knowns accumulated,
agreeing, mind making up forms a we,
as one we become, one mind let be
according to authorized versions
of all that wisdom lovers left us.

Take no anxious thought, let go
all will to claim knowledge
never tasted,
chewed, swallowed
and used to evince self certainty,

convinced with other's testified
proof of the preconceived notion,

after life is heaven, or hell,
or punishment unto correction,
should one lose the intuition,
original milk and honey good knowing,
life is for our being in, alive
and ever learning right use
from wrong use experience
of all that forms our character
as a whole herd of humans in agreement.

Trust the intuitive will to belong,
link loves, become one long loving life,

accept a peaceful, easy feeling pushing
polemic distinctions of good and evil,
into a clump
of all that has been known,
experienced and survived, knowledge,
used right or wrong, recognized knowns
used to ease the burden to lighten the load,
sapient sapience arrived at
by access routes proved good to know
as if wholey uncomprehensible code
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
the whole tree, root, branch, fruit, seed.
Raw unrefined knowing. Wisdom's
Point.
Indeed, in the very act, virtue used
to mean behaving mankind-like,

still, now, small voice, knowing
this is the path, thinking hearing

good. Emerging self absolution

spheres of infinity with ins and outs,
fractally conceivable, impossibly
proposed as partially useless,

as knowledge of good and evil attests
to liars who trust their own interpretation.

Look, beyond all mortal constraint,
imagine the infallible peace given,

not as the world gives, imagine that
in one mind, combined with mine,
as peace itself absolved.
Because it made sense at the moment, and does no harm, I enjoy thinking in public, here.
Chandra S Nov 2019
I

THE REMARK

She scornfully remarked,
"Ha, Ha, men?.....
They are dogs,
all of them"
and then went on
and said,
"Most of my friends are men"

II

THE QUESTIONS

It was a casual conversation
but left behind nagging questions:

One:
Is woman really liberated?
For if that were so,
she would be free to sow
the seeds for a malice-free life:
A life that is
marked by sobriety
and unshakable fraternity –
A distinguished burden which principally she
can carry gracefully
till we all reach Goshen.

Two:
Has man been always liberated?
You may or may not agree,
I just say what I see.

III

THE VICTIM

Among the countless atrocities
on the vast womankind,
a hoarse, feeble voice thus pines:

Look at him;
He has been trained to ****
and be unflinchingly killed.....

He is:
an oblivious slave to his condition,
.....a victim of unmindful persuasions
by apathetic social conventions....
crippled....plagued...
by inherited apparitions
of our grand forefathers.

He has been brutalized too
on his way from a wobbly boyhood
to a hard-bitten manhood.

IV

SYSTEMIC SCARS

One could write a manuscript.
Instead I cite a sparse list
about how
he has been systematically marred
by the oppressive
socio-economic-political farce:

......of the defense ministry,
or salvation through insurgency...

......of the drug cartel,
or the liquor-tobacco lobby...

......of the boss's fancy,
......of female friendly courts,
...even sports!!!
......of the spousal gripe.....
and most of all...
....through the stereotype hype.

V

DIS-EMPOWERMENT OF MAN

Is man really enfranchised?
I am a man and I vouch otherwise.
........

Bully the other boy
else...
just play with a toy
solitary.....a *****.

You are born with a member,
Now, my goodness,
prove to be better
than your female opposite number;
An impossible task,
for no gender
is exclusively first-class.

Prove your chivalry;
find a nice young lady
or carry some forbidden
infamous label.

Hide your malaise,
pretend to be at ease,
do not brood,
or be doomed
as a sentimental fool.

Always be okay alone
wherever you are
whatever you are...
sickly or strong.

Feel guilty.
After all, all social malady
is solely your responsibility.

You are just the "unfair ***"
...an ugly accumulation
of grossly vile testosterone,
no match for the noble progesterone.

My unfortunate friend, do you see…
That radical crowd....so elite?
That is the "fair-***",
not ye.....not ye.

Apart from a backbreaking childbirth,
most other dangerous or physically stressful work
is a man's traditional berth.

Even the macrocosm
has been a scrooge,
depriving him
from the possibility of motherhood;
...the sensational miracle of natural creation.

Is man really free...?

VI

THE SLOG DOG

But yes,
as my good friend said,
there still remains
a thin little thread
of fragmentary credence,
hanging like a dire dog-collar.

It says:
Man is a two-timing slog-dog;
unfaithful to many
but loyal to love,
wagging the tail
for his lovely suffragette dove.

She can heap
his eating bowl
with puppy-love chow
and he will be forever hers.
Inspired by the fault in popular notion that only a woman is disempowered in our social setup. The truth is that both genders suffer though the reasons may be different.

I am just making an attempt to write from a man's perspective, which is often ignored or understood only in a singular way - that all men are by default oppressors of women.

It is not my intention to hurt anyone. Any offence caused is purely unintentional.
Zywa Apr 2023
If only the little animal could
understand everything
no questions unanswered
when it dies

It does not live long enough
and flying is the time
of hundred wonderful times
of playing to die, the time

of asking again and again why
thus, this or that, and how
curiously cutting and pasting
knowledge, screaming

and throwing away angrily
lying down exhausted
and cry, but still
starting over once more

rearrange or discard
the half answers
and go looking
for new data

always ask another question
principally blind
full of confidence
that there will be an answer
Collection "I am"
(a projection, genuflection, and extrapolation - if/when thine eldest "star student" progeny becomes the bride of one lucky guy)

with ur svelteness quite outstanding and accompanying zeitgeist tub boot my knowledge iris see vd reprieve from arm hug get n escort rub bing bliss until thee betook by another down thee aisle of life a pub
lick venue, where eyes bet cha yar er re: zist ta bull n deaf fin knit nub

charming slightly older gal to em ma, a puerto Rican well *** boy well worth effort form to start a family o' year own, time and tide will tell
waves of nostalgia for childhood memories may be difficult to quell

effort to cultivate relationship with omnipotent emotional ease
with nuptial savings bond, a salutary hint of success - cuz he's
a near perfect match wedded til death do ye part, locked, keys

engineered principally by fate recognized worth turning to dust
where omnipotent invisible bars anchor with mettle no gust
nor clangorous discord erupts, and neither one of ye lust
after infatuation of anther hold ye with pinterest n trust.

time to curry familiarity with ye mid haw ter, i didst waste
so unwise for this papa to express envy, and how thee taste -
of euphoria, whether single r double spaced
years 'tween offspring will not conflict with biological run -  raced
as greatest marathon - yet ardent cross country track star placed
yar mental, physical and spiritual well being, where well laced
sneakers ratcheting pedometer set other challenges faced
against duel as tempus fugit will acquiesce to grim reaper
hence, i must be mindful n make haste
to gather thine few rose rubs while ye may witness time erased
all the while the shadow of father time 2b finds me chaste.

already taking quantum leaps edging 2b come college alum n aye
a severance dissolving parental protection doth evince good bye
yet tis a relief, that few tears evidence that this papa didst cry
thus, this generic guy
doth app ply
words 2 roll like die
an image in my
mind well nigh

to evoke n elicit intrigue and say "hi"
in his atypical mode - butta not 2 pry
nor intervene un-necessarily - only to share as i try
2 exchange lite banter 2.0 n case u wonder why
u most likely did not get such an electronic sigh
email if...ye wish to chit chat or converse 'bout pry
vet matter, thus nearing conclusion, dada doth notify
a hope that ye accept my
weaknesses and faltered during your girlhood - no reason 2 lie
about detached emotional fabric - faults no excuse foreign alibi.

now before i go to sleep
ur sunny roseate countenance
   will invoke slumber within me
   like an oracle - quick n deep.

meanwhile life passes in one direction end date toward
as additional minute men slink in their swiftly tail lord
non-harried style spruced n tricked up ford.
Oy Vey Smear -
More'n' $500.00 For Car Repair!

Hence mine plaintive strut forward
     doleful poetically lamentable
     forlorn shell shock mental state
Hyundai deniably forced
me to absorb, sans
     requisite auto repair tab
     this (Sonata kidding) reality
steered me sigh key -

     wracked (in my pinion)
     into abysmal suspension tooting horn aye
didst painfully, palp
     ably, and pathetically,
     (albeit mutinous on bounty of life)
     envisioned good bye
regarding woebegone condition
     wallet sadly, how checking account

     suffered near mortal blow -
     cents less lee principally reason cry
ying yup possibly heard, asper
     the doll la bills blues and die,
perhaps hastiness dashing
     off metrical missive
     blindsided, clouded, and obscured

     wheely tired call for Eli
(schwa sound) to whisk
     this mister where angels fly
essentially taking Matthew
     Scott Harris goodbye
from money shortages, away high
yar into the outer reaches
     of the twilight auto zone

yet...deep down I dear
lee would rather engine ear
a rescue attempt by claiming fear
less flyer self as charity and gear
legitimate funding to help
     a worthy cause, but such chutzpah,
     would be here

see within thy coda,
     dogma, and car ma,
     thus eye shed headlights for
     "NON FAKE" truth to app pear.
Pacific, pacifist pampered papa
parading par excellent paragon
parent (parenthetically parochial
particularly partisan) parvenu
passive, passionately paternalistically patient,

paunchy, peaceably pepped, perfectionist,
perceptive, perennially perky, permissively
persevering, persistently personable, perspicuous,
pertinent, phenomenally philanthropic, philharmonic

picturesquely pious, pioneering, piquantly pithy,
playfully pleasant, pleasurably plucky, plummy,
poetically poignant, politely pontificating, popular,
positively potent, powerfully practiced pragmatist,

praiseworthy, prayerfully precious, precise
predominant, preeminently preferable, preparedly
preponderant, presently president, prestigiously
prevailing, priceless, princely, principally pristine,

privately privileged, prized, proactively procreative,
prodigiously productive, proficiently profitable,
progressively prominant, promisingly prompt,
prophetically propitious, prospectively protective,
proudly proven provocative, prudent psyched, puissant,
punctilious, punctually purposeful.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Apr 2020
The years I spent at Andover were the worst years of my life.
I was a kid from Kansas, a very smart kid, if I do say so myself.
So smart, in fact, that my father had planned years in advance
that I should attend Phillips Academy (aka Andover), because
he could live out his fantasies vicariously--albeit unconsciously--
through me. My dad had grown up during the Depression dirt
poor, but he also was very bright and was determined to escape
the hellhole he had survived through sedulous work and Her-
culean effort, and thus became very rich. I, of course, had never
heard of Andover. I was content to go to public schools in Topeka,
Kansas, had many friends, got virtually straight-As, and enjoyed
immensely all the athletic teams I had played on. Also, I was elected
president of the student council in junior high. But all of that didn't
matter to my dad. Andover, and only Andover, was my dad's plan for
me. I had never heard of Andover, but dad had. He used to spend
countless hours reading books about rich and successful men
while lying on his bed at night. So, in due course, I was admitted
(not an easy thing to do) to Andover, and dad flew with me to
Boston, then rode in a cab with me some twenty miles north to
Andover in the town of--you guessed it--Andover, Massachusetts.
Andover is the oldest boarding school in America, founded two years
after our country was, in 1778. Paul Revere designed and made
the school's seal. George Washington sent his nephew there.
The campus was breathtakingly beautiful. Dad had met John
Kemper, Andover's headmaster, and had noticed what kind and
style of shoes he was wearing, so dad went out and bought me
the replica of Kemper's shoes. How weird, I thought. I received
at Andover plausibly the best secondary school education in the
world, but at an exorbitant social and emotional cost. A small
number of my classmates, principally from Greenwich and Darien,
Conneticut, though intellectually brilliant, were simply mean.
They were "the drops of poison," if you will, that turned Andover's
ambiance into an emotionally corrosive environment that affected in
an insidious way students and teachers alike. I managed to endure
this horror;  others did not. I chose to attend Columbia, not Yale,
because four more years at Yale would have been like spending
four more years at Andover, anathema for me. Columbia was liber-
ating. It's Core Curriculum made you learned for life, and living in
and exploring for four years New York City, the veritable capital of
the world, made you a citizen of the world for life, even if you decided
to reside somewhere else after graduating, which I did. I live now in
Boulder, Colorado, far away from Greenwich.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet and human-rights advocate his entire adult life. He recently finished his novel, A CHILD FOR AMARANTH.
"Hear that sound? That's the drive shaft"
Rather, it's a life raft
That you and your wife are flouting
What's that about, the silence shouting?

When is something dead?
Do you know it in your head?
Your mind? Something left behind?
Perhaps if we could just rewind
We'd find the answer

Love, laughter, principally pain,
Are all consequences of the insane
Its archaic definition we all know
But never googled, so we don't really know

Shouting silence, so deafening in the car
Past the idiots and the ******* traveling far
To our right and our left, you
Keep critizing til we've all left you

All on the precipice of that becoming
Me, your wife, your children, yourself
We're all left with that one thing:
Watching you in your hell

But there's no writhing, just acceptance
No attempting to better, just acceptance
No trying of any kind, just complacent
No emotions being expressed, just complacent

How is anything real to you?
Where is your baseline?
Can love be real to you?
Can it be experienced at the same time

As nonexistence and complacency?
Is there anything in between
Those two terrible extremes?
It's where his life is to be

And his wife and their marriage as it dies
In the car ride to the son's house with their other son behind
The driver seat where the driver shaft yells out
And speaks louder than either of your marital doubts
No notes. Just interpret however you like.
Bobby Copeland Oct 2018
Sometimes the song comes late at night,
A lazy time surrounded by
The light, when paper's never there
Except an envelope or three
Collecting dust and penalties,
In need of stamps, in need of checks
And when eventually I send,
With interest principally enclosed,
These notes to Citibank I know
They won't be read, the warning says
Do not enclose, and yet I think
This can't be correspondence, no?
TOD HOWARD HAWKS May 2020
The following is not a paid advertisement. It is the truth. It is arguably plausible for me to state that I received the best secondary and higher education in the world.

I graduated from Phillips Academy (more commonly referred to as Andover now), the oldest boarding school in America founded in 1778, two years after our nation was founded. Andover and its sequel, Exeter, it seems, now take turns being voted the best high school in the United States.

Though I received an essentially unequalled secondary education at Andover, I paid an exorbitant social and emotional cost to receive it. The years I spent at Andover were the worst of my life.

I chose to matriculate to Columbia College, the tradional undergraduate liberal arts school of Columbia University, over Yale
for principally two main reasons:  the Core Curriculum and New York City. More years at Yale would be like returning to Andover, anathema to me.

The Core Curriculum, now over 100 years old, is a rigorous, two-year course of studies that include philosophy, literature. art, music, language, frontiers of science, and writing. All College students, regardless of her or his majors, must take all the Core courses, which, in turn, make them learned for life. Columbia College is the only Ivy school to have anything like the Core. Living in and exploring New York City, the veritable capital of the world, for four years makes one a Citizen of the World for life, even if one decides to reside elsewhere after graduating, as I did. I now live in Boulder, CO. Columbia College's 2019 admit rate was 5.1%. Columbia College admitted a few over 2,000 applicants out of slightly over 42,000 applicants worldwide, making Columbia College the second most selective school in the Ivy League. 5.1 % admit rate:  that's about 1 out of 20.

But even Columbia has its "bad apples:"  Roy Cohn comes to mind readily. So does William Barr. But it also has Barach Obama. 84 students who studied or professors who taught there won the Nobel Prize.

So what to do with this piece CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT?

It sees to me that the maxim  DO UNTO OTHERS...is rapidly being supplanted by CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? Our political leaders, who have never been paragons of virtue, have for 3 1/2 years have become, in a word, corrupt. The Washington Post has authenticated more than 15,000 lies emanating from the Oval Office, not to mention the cheating, the racism, and the ******.

CAN WE PROFIT OFF IT? is the new adage these days.

I say "Make America A Democracy Again!" should be.
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet and a human-rights advocate his entire adult life.
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.
Shell yours truly share hook line
and sinker, regarding how I nearly
fell prey to off fish shill
doom for umpteenth time?

Ya haint got no choice... to late,
cuz eyes already clicked bait,
though don't worry be happy fate
will find thee enjoying poetic tête-à-tête
rhyming Hors d'oeuvres
ain't no Shakespearean literary great

expert, nonetheless might interest
with special Labor Day rate
absolute zero charge courtesy
to mollycoddle principally
as figurative paypal pit tate
ting gently massaging your pate

anyway don't get doggies in a dimple
yawping personal ambition
of this doggone puppy not to create
literary accomplishment appraised great
merely to fritter away time possibly
unexpectedly, unknowingly,
unwittingly... titillate.

Herewith follows "FAKE" off fish hill
anecdote without wallowing
in self pity and deemed gill
tee of slimy overkill,
whereby fisherman seeks likes of me,
who favors lollygagging
within Brooklyn rill

frequented by Jack and Jill
ice cream in vain
when riled, poked, nabbed...
courtesy angler England Bill
unaware his carping cavil
never fooling this ever will
fill squiggly... d'ya phylum me?

As proud Annelida where trawler
(accompanied with boating mate)
blithely tosses yours truly into catcher's
reel tin can - grim fate
ah, but survival skills include
ability to regenerate

in thee event mine body electric rotate
headed, chopped, perforated, segmented...
evening, increasing, licking... odds
laughing to myself, which doth not abate,
cuz I outsmarted, thus aye state
with modesty if perchance just a sliver

lopped off, destiny cannot eliminate
opportunity not to agitate,
but rather duplicate, replicate
unisexual worman hood
without need to feign
being irate, thus
pretend to equivocate.
The following initially crafted approximately three and a half years ago and presently brought a  much sought after surge of satisfaction while meandering along the information superhighway.

Panglossian Perspective
Pivoting Poze Pretentiously

Pacific, pacifist pampered papa
parading par excellent paragon
parent (parenthetically parochial
particularly partisan) parvenu
passive, passionately paternalistically patient,

paunchy, peaceably pepped, perfectionist,
perceptive, perennially perky, permissively
persevering, persistently personable,
perspicuous, pertinent, phenomenally philanthropic, philharmonic

picturesquely pious, pioneering, piquantly pithy,
playfully pleasant, pleasurably plucky, plummy,
poetically poignant, politely pontificating, popular,
positively potent, powerfully practiced pragmatist,

praiseworthy, prayerfully precious, precise
predominant, preeminently preferable, preparedly
preponderant, presently president, prestigiously
prevailing, priceless, princely, principally pristine,

privately privileged, prized,
proactively procreative,
prodigiously productive, proficiently profitable,
progressively prominent, promisingly prompt,
prophetically propitious, prospectively protective,
proudly proven provocative,
prudently psyched, puissant,
punctilious, punctually purposeful pygmy.
Jerry Howarth Jan 2023
Bits and Pieces From Isaiah
Chapt. 1:2-4 "The Lord has spoken"
The ox knows his owner and the *** his crib, but Israel does not know. A sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, having forsaken the Lord and provoked the   Holy One to anger."

The book of Isaiah is principally about Israel, Jerusalem and Judah,
but the message carries over to all the nations of the world today, especially the Jews and Gentles  of America.

Vs. 9 speaks of a very  small remnant of faithful believers among Jerusalem and Judah,
even so, scattered throughout the world and  America, there is a small remnant of faithful servants of the Lord.

But to those who are rebellious against God, just going through the motions of worshipping God,
i.e. the Easter/ Christmas crowd,
God says in vs's 11-15, He is sick of
their vain worship; vs. 15 He won't even respond to their prayers.

In these opening vs's Isaiah is describing Judah and Jerusalem, but they also are descriptive of the majority of America
Oh...and hello
to you, some hours past, I
returned from counseling,
(hence this boy yent -
     albeit beastie boy
     figuratively basking
in fading afterglow)
great kickstarter session,

countless moments ago,
sans treatment plan,
she facilitated emotional airflow
i.e. Stephanie Dodds,
(sat straight as an arrow)
whereat this client purged, avow
hid lee, his ******
logical reflux backflow

(Matthew Scott Harris) did crow
     as said professionally trained
     medicine woman actively listened,
     (no doubt other male patients
     similar to yours truly entertained
     (alignment with see
     thing hormonal concurrence,
where ego super vies iz

     Id dee hot - hook line, and sinker
     attributed to Sigmund Freud,
     who sired, midwifed, and fathered
     psychoanalytic theories)
****** kindled fantasies,
viz being bedfellow
this soul, hood doth not bellow,
but keeps mum

     (during my allotted time),
yet willingly shares
with utter strangers
intimate gal olive
hunt ting fantasy,
that doth beshadow
obviously no intent to breach
     such prurient thoughts, bestow

foolscap upon mine noggin,
    and most definitely blow
future appointments
with aesthetically pleasing
(tomb maa cryptic) bowwow
wing hot diggity
dog inner primate, perhaps,
and not surprisingly get brow

beaten, where dire
***** tor of facility
    wilt hell me
"go take a hike to
****** solitary bungalow,"
where all manner of
libidinous desires wanna burrow
(where warren peace

     can thrive hare and now),
     on par with rabbit - burr reader,
which confinement would
not principally peter out
till dawning transgression vetted,
     and avered final cockrow
trumpeted, norte - til last cornrow
reaped, hence unable

to thwart counterblow
permanently, doth nada
different she hate
lustful zeal from eye
dims sum – genital fateful dayglow,
thence high lee
     grant ting deathblow
to testosterone laden satiety,

     randy proclivity, and
     concupiscent adoration from
combine nation of #endow
ments to ghost of - Grant
yule leases eyebrow
raising candy cane upon fallow

da weeder foreshadow
wing sowing field of poetically
wet dreams plying fecund,
feminine, and fertile ground
godaddy on his gangplow.
'Curse darned demon
     of that thar
     underworld nudged me abet
as a permanent solution
     to a temporary problem
     i.e. principally no money
     and rising debt
not for a long time didst

     I feel so distressed didst,
     where no amount of
     optimism could get
back joie de vivre ebullient elan,
     that oft times fines me jet
ting hither and yon, to and fro,
     until spent energy met
fatigue, whence sand

     man gave his pet
tickle yore sleep inducing
     sprinkling granular set
tat heave, albeit
     non off fence sieve tet
deep slumber didst
     hone like a whet
stone, less drastic alternative versus

     welcoming grim reaper, yet
eventually, aye reckon
     this human machine
     moost give up the ghost
boot not now,
     cuz this moment hike ken boast...,
an immediate diminution
     of anguish, viz unlike as told

yesterday, the monthly doled
social security automatic direct
     electronic deposit extolled
joyus relief, viz checking account
     death rattle didst sense a gold
din shimmer and em bold
qua slight monetary profusion
     lowering destitution,

     asper dearth of monies
     allowing ease to un fold,
which severe dire straits rolled
forward respite
     with money for nothing
     oppressive full (rick kitty)
     full Nelson neck
     i.e. near choke hold

rejuvenated brittle psyche mold
during self feeling auld
also attendant temp
     purred critical pull
away woe decreased yielding
     (all "talk" and no action),
     following thru with desperate,
sans destructive (irreversible)

     actions unable to hold,
metaphorical tiger of despair
     by the figurative tail,
     where soul of mine
     almost got "sold"
for a pittance (NOT penitence)
     to the Prada devil
     (or similar facsimile thereof)

     rational self didst scold
     spewing idle "FAKE"
     hollw we ning suicidal threats,
     not necessarily bold
cuz, this scribe did not write

     his last (nor first,
     second, third...) will
     and testament before death,
     would hove found
    me stiff and cold.
True love is something so elusive that many refuse to accept that it exists. Their incredulity is understandable considering what a me-first world we live in. When people seek only to please themselves, they will never be capable of finding true love. True love is self sacrificing. True love is not blind to faults, but it is willing to look for the best in others, focus on their good qualities. True love is not principally about receiving, but rather true love looks for opportunities to give. True love between two people is the most precious of gifts. It is the one of the few things left in this world that can endure an entire lifetime, for true love is stronger even than death
Aye sandman, I surrender to yar supreme governance
surreal spectacular soiree gifts subconscious sphere
soothing (analogous to natural palliative), ah...REM
member nought, asper exquisite entertaining cerebral
kaleidoscope replete with nonpareil visual trappings

aesthetically tantalizing unforgettable..., but lo' eye cant
captcha scenario upon awakened state, tis bothersome
transcendent, resplendent, quiescent,...transient dream
ticking escapement shuttered against recollections...
aye plead mercy to jog, (and gently jimmy - yeah of

course figuratively) shuttered facet slammed tight soon
nee immediately inaccessible dimension brought forth
teasingly, phantasmagorically, numbingly ephemeral,
nonetheless temporarily liberating, enshrouding, and
cocooning against incessant drubbing mine corporeal

wakeful body electric relentlessly fraught with profuse
inexplicable perspiration (principally palms) recurs
like clockwork (despite prescription medications), this
physiological discomfort hazards livingsocial quotidian
joyless agonizing oft times including courtesy, not

"FAKE" panic attack, these anxiety less debilitating,
when emotionally torturous teenage years wracked
every cell (no matter how fast I ran - just Kuwait, the
mailer daemons threatened) to undermine even flickr
of happiness, hence suicidal ideations (eternal slumber)

tantalized (still populate though processes) as surefire
solution to mitigate despite leaving those who love,
and especially hate yours truly, his existence bereft
of quality, though tranquil physical quasi rural setting
(Schwenksville), a naturalistic, fantastic, holistic balm,

here quiet as a cemetary removed, not considerably
distant from Philadelphia (hubbub disagrees with hair
trigger vulnerability), where madding crowd affects my
innate neurological predisposition, these lovely bones

easily rattled, quite aggravating to live verging upon
tremulous agitation assuaged through writing - catharsis
delivers temporary alleviation as doth solitary voluntary
sequestration poor substitute to relish L'Chaim!
Dr Peter Lim Oct 2021
Nothing said by others

should be taken too seriously

let me say here candidly:

this applies principally to me
Thank dog, and cat,
     no pet tee filed - late fee
incurred from this
     sole heir, matted son
     Avenue of Harris communique
to his youngest sister
     busy as a queen bee,
her name mentioned

     backwards solely for
     wry ming sense – re:
garding Dunning-Harris Shari:
Not there need not
     be any clear cut,
     nor cloudy total
     reason to bolster wee
kind fortitude to write

an email (albeit
     with my characteristic
     trademark rhyme) to in vite
my own impetus to dash
     off a friendly hello
     in a gentle
effort to unite
sibling camaraderie,

     whether this
     material in question
profound or trite
with no pro noun
     sub bull adverbial,
     or adjectival intent,
and of course nada spite,
this exercise to compose,

     whatever occurs within
mum mind quite
     likely to concern
     general circumstances,
rather than touch upon
     any single plight
since, an easily educated guess
     can paint (no Norman

     Rockwell) framed palette,
     (sans dystopian
     picture) outright
and despite whatever hardship,
     with curtain call on this
     November 11th, 2018 night,
a flickr ring, instagram, and
     kickstarter motive might

be fulfilling tummy,
     that ever so quickly
     the dimming light
(when the scythe lint
     covered grim reaper)
perhaps attired as
     21st century LGBT knight,
the latter once

     sip pawn a time...,
     now he iz a
     messenger simply bear
ring pleasant tidings,
     and also an effort
     to express, how
ye didst (aunt still do) care
(uncle Andy as well)

     for Shana Punim,
     who on a do able dare
to be doted upon, and offered
     to go here, there,
     and everywhere
experiencing a gamut of
     eye opening globe trotting
     (Watch out Harlem

     basketball Boyz to men) hair
reed tailored, and swiftly styled
     educational adventures
     adding learning and zest
to life, liberty, and purrs
     suit of feline doth wrest
good development
     of character to in vest

patterning herself after
     exemplary guardians
     sometimes you might
     be feeling beat,
     when embarking upon
     latest electric kool aid acid test,
nonetheless, this
     missive of gratitude,

     where thee darling daughter
     doth conquer one quest
after another (principally attributed
     to thee, who NEVER protest
obligations, but
     launch with confidence,

     whether feathering
     the Gadshill nest,
or...furthering education keeping
     body, mind, and spirit
     sharpened as best
Yukon Mount attain.
Aye sandman, I surrender to yar supreme governance
surreal spectacular soiree gifts subconscious sphere
soothing (analogous to natural palliative), ah...REM
member nought, asper exquisite entertaining cerebral
kaleidoscope replete with nonpareil visual trappings

aesthetically tantalizing unforgettable..., but lo' eye can't
captcha scenario upon awakened state, tis bothersome
transcendent, resplendent, quiescent,...transient dream
ticking escapement shuttered against recollections...
aye plead mercy to jog, (and gently jimmy - yeah of

course figuratively) shuttered facet slammed tight soon
nee immediately inaccessible dimension brought forth
teasingly, phantasmagorically, numbingly ephemeral,
nevertheless temporarily liberating, enshrouding, and
cocooning against incessant drubbing mine corporeal

wakeful body electric relentlessly fraught with profuse
inexplicable perspiration (principally palms) recurs
like clockwork (despite prescription medications), this
physiological discomfort hazards livingsocial quotidian
joyless agonizing oft times including courtesy, not

"FAKE" panic attack, these anxiety less debilitating,
when emotionally torturous teenage years wracked
every cell (no matter how fast I ran - just Kuwait, the
mailer daemons threatened) to undermine even flickr
of happiness, hence suicidal ideations (eternal slumber)

tantalized (still populate though processes) as surefire
solution to mitigate despite leaving those who love,
and especially hate yours truly, his existence bereft
of quality, though tranquil physical quasi rural setting
(Schwenksville), a naturalistic, fantastic, holistic balm,

here quiet as a cemetary removed, not considerably
distant from Philadelphia (hubbub disagrees with hair
trigger vulnerability), where madding crowd affects my
innate neurological predisposition, these lovely bones

easily rattled, quite aggravating to live verging upon
tremulous agitation assuaged through writing - catharsis
delivers temporary alleviation as doth solitary voluntary
sequestration poor substitute to relish L'Chaim!

Now Holy cow, I modestly bow vine
and dandy attired with New Times Roman font –
showing off me lix - plus iv ridging
despite afflicting unsuspecting reader  
to experience insufferable oh press
sieve corny word play yes
please lemme know and honestly profess
if profusion of words create lingual Loch Ness,
when hens can't come home to roost
especially, encountering
the following conglomeration
in Matthew Scott Harris patois.

He readily admits writing inventive
attempts usually ten tubby a literary mess,
thus finding innocent cyber cruisers
Angle fishing for Saxony fundamental fluidity
courtesy of Freudian stream of consciousness,
gabbling gibberish, muck not done on purpose
and certainly less
modest ambition to impress.

Gnome hatter intent toward
cogency, fancy ingenuity,
levity, the inevitable
resultant wrought gobbledygook
fascination for Lingua Franca
feeble endeavor splutters, splinters,
and splatters Asia Yukon guess.

Paramour status analogous with twenty six letters,
sans En gull Lush Mother tongue confluence
finds me submerged (as an Arctic Monkey)
swimmingly enervated
via ****** laced sentiments
perhaps finds bravely daring soul madly
hollering, gesticulating floundering,
(in close proximity to Davy Jones's locker)
to avoid drowning at sea
perchance comprehending passionate influence.

Upon espying a signature poem of mine
forces one pre ponder ring lurking predilection
tib hush anonymous re:
dears (dares) adventuresome mettle
taking him/her to the brainy
(briny) deep brink Icon fess

this (NON FAKE) pretense, why
aye metaphorically express
(via medium of ordinary Anglophile
alphabetic wonton soup,
or figurative egg drop soup
bubbling broth (el) doth brew)

pronouns Sibyl affectation
affliction sans plethora,
where each ladle full adrip with
richly flavor Verdana Font lee
and sincerely textured vocabulary.

Pluperfect mortals beings undoubtedly feel
(blindsided, how this hunger stricken author
suffers said sesquipedalian syndrome
particularly expectorating flashy

hoping tum bark on successful literary quest)
hyper aware aspiring paperback writers wannabe
might stoop to conquer, cheat, cadge
vis a vis plagiarize plethora
amidst storied plentiful English droppings.

Rather than succumb pretense feigning paucity
temptation to bask exultantly,
professed glorious unrequited love
announcing required sworn vow,
(el lye ding) avowed consonant covenant.
Terrible Scenes of Death and Misery in Minnesota. Five Hundred Whites Supposed to be Murdered. The Sioux Bands United Against the Whites. FORT RIDGELEY IN DANGER.
Published: August 24, 1862
ST. PAUL, Minn., Saturday, Aug. 23.
Parties from the Minnesota River reached here last sight. They state that scouts estimate the number of whites already killed by the Sioux at 500.
This opinion is based on the number of bodies discovered strewn along the road and by trails of blood.
It is believed that all the missionaries have been killed.
The civilized Indians exceeded their savage brethren in atrocities.
Mr. FRENIER, an interpreter who has spent most of his life among the Indians, volunteered to go alone among them, trusting to his knowledge of them and his disguise, to escape detection. He dressed himself to Indian costume and started on his journey. He arrived at the Upper Agency at night.
The place was literally the habitation of death.
He visited all the houses, and found their former occupants all lying dead, some on the door-steps and some inside their habitations. Others were scattered in the yards and in the roads.
He went to the house of Hon. J.R. BROWN, and recognized every member of the family. They numbered eighteen in all, and every one of them had been brutally murdered.
At ****** Creek he found that fifty families had been killed outright. At every house he went into he recognized the dead bodies of nearly all the former inhabitants of the place.
Among the dead bodies he recognized at the Agency were the following:
N. GOVERUS and family.
Dr. WAKEFIELD and family.
JOHN TODDENS and family.
JOHN MOYNER.
EDWARD MOYNER.
Rev. Dr. WILLIAMS.
Rev. Mr. BRIGGS, and two missionaries.
Ex-Gov. SIBLEY is now marching to the relief of Fort Ridgley.
He reports that the Sioux bands are united together to carry out a concentrated and desperate scheme, and says that he will be only too happy to find that the powerful upper bands of Yanktons and other tribes have not united with them.
Mr. FRENIER writes to Gov. RAMSEY, on the 21st inst., saying that he left Fort Ridgley at 2 o'clock on that morning. There were then over two thousand Indians at the fort, and all the wooden buildings there had been set on fire, and were burning.
Mr. FRENIER thinks that other tribes are joining the Sloux, and that they will present a very formidable array.
A reliable letter, dated Glencoe, 21st inst., says that the injury done by the stampede of the settlers is immense, and that such another scene of woe can hardly be found in the South as in McLeod, Meaker, and the northern part of Sibley and other counties to Minnesota.
In St. Paul and the adjoining country all the available horses are being gathered together, and all sorts of weapons will be used by willing hands for immediate and summary vengeance upon these blood-thirsty Indians.
CHICAGO, Saturday, Aug. 23.
The St. Paul (Minn.) Pioneer, of the 20th inst., says, it is thought that the Indians have been induced to commit these outrages by Indians from Missouri and secession traitors of that State, and that when Maj. GALBRAITH left the agency on Friday everything was quiet. The Indians had received their goods and had all disappeared apparently satisfied with the Major's promise to send for them as soon as the money arrived to pay them their annuities.
The first attack of the Indians was made on the house of Mr. BAKER, on Sunday last, near the town of Acton, and 30 miles from Forest City, in which three white men and one woman were killed.
On Monday morning an attack was made on Redwood, and at the time the messenger left there, a number of persons had been killed.
After the messenger had crossed the river, he saw the Indians firing into traders' stores and other buildings. He estimated the number of Indians engaged in this firing at 150. He also stated that messengers had arrived at Fort Ridgley with money to pay off the Indians the sums due them.
The St. Paul Press, of the 21st instant, says that several loads of panic-stricken people, from Currer and Sibley Counties, arrived in town last night, principally women and children. They were greatly excited, and give exaggerated accounts of the Indians, who were marching on Shasta County. They also say that the towns of St. Peter, Henderson and Glencoe have been burned.
A private letter received in this city, to-day, from St. Paul, dated the 20th instant, says, that it seems to be the general opinion among the best informed of our citizens that these Indian troubles originated with the cursed Secessionists of Missouri.
Major GALBRAITH was told by one of the Indians that there are now in arms ten thousand of the Sioux tribe, besides other tribes from Northern Missouri.
ST. PAUL, Minn., Saturday, Aug. 23 -- 9 P.M.
ANTOINE FRENIER, the disguised Indian scout, got through the Indian lines into Fort Ridgeley and brought back the following to Gov. RAMSEY:
FORT RIDGELEY, Thursday, Aug. 21 -- 2 P.M.
We can hold this position but little longer unless we are reinforced. We are being attacked almost every hour, and unless assistance is rendered us we cannot hold out much longer. Our little band is becoming exhausted and decimated. We had hoped to be reinforced to-day, but as yet can hear of no one coming.
T.G. SHEHAN, of Company C, Fifth Minnesota Volunteers, commands the post.
Gov. SIBLEY cannot reach here with his twelve hundred troops until to-morrow, when a day of reckoning for the Indians will be at hand.
Hue more, a dog send,
asper how this poe
whet tick mutt air ring
mortal doth cope with woe
principally said misery prevails
because a dearth of dough
cash, liquid legally rendered
assets, money, y'know

what I mean, and securing, and
maintaining employment efforts go
south, cuz yours truly
experiences extreme anxiety,
where perspiration doth flow
most significantly moistening
palms when this bro
fills out application,

or during interview so...
to spare myself such
grievous anguish, although
such acquiring a job, the
quickest most obvious to diminish
penuriousness whiplashing to and fro
primarily due to requisite ought toe
motive repairs (ordinary

wear and tear),
this unearned income of mine - so
shill security disability
(monthly electronic depot
zitz), the sole source of mo
knee for myself and the missus,
(who also unfortunately emo
shun null lee dogged by ******

logical pitfalls since her grow
chee parents (both deceased) unaware
of her mental afflictions decades ago
lacks any checking, and/or
savings account, lo
she wants for disposable income ***
ping to rely on me for spending money
on regular basis, which by Joe

siff, mother and Mary
stresses thee only means
to sustain financial status quo,
hence my lament and plea
for succor, yet just blow
wing figurative steam also
bring a modicum of alleviation, as
does talking to a therapist, crow

wing about pennilessness
day late dollar short,
hence cue thee oboe
or violin somber
(pitiful) tune - **...**...**...
methinks gofundme site not apropos

cuz just a couple thousand bucks...
would allow me to get show
back on the rodeo
circuit, but I hoop
not to engender glow
warring revulsion - whoa!
battered pinata like

Yours truly courtesy servitude
tethered existence suffers neck
brunt of yoke
fiscal recklessness got me woke
within cosmic schema,
a mere infinitesimal speck.

Insolvent crisis principally bespoke
interestingly enough
caught me off balance
sudden pennilessness
(dollar short/ day late dada)
analogous to vice grip
stranglehold doth choke
coffers emptied
*****-nilly Okey doke
colorblindness
fundamentally governed me

into zombified state
thus another plaintive plea
I repeatedly, lamely, and feebly evoke
meaning remuneration welcomed
courtesy altruistic generosity, magnanimity
and philanthropy humble
anonymous Lake Woebegone folk
ideally Norwegian bachelor farmers
to alleviate fiasco from fiendish
fraudsters frazzled father.

In plain (Schwenksville speak)
broken English,
I fell prey to hustlers
audacious, ferocious, malicious,
voracious, zealous tricksters,
who stealthily found entry
into my Macbook Pro
and locked computer screen
with threatening implication
security of mine private domain
awash with byte size bits
of valuable information
at risk of being tampered
with or obliterated.

Analogous to eminent domain of yore
mine digital terrain
manifest destiny meant war
virtual flesh and blood
regarding these lovely bones
yours truly gussied up
as chargé d'affaires
sent on risky (business) dutiful tour
to inflict comeuppance on him
who rendered me poor
as a Unitarian Church mouse,

plus I recruited
offspring of one of countless
related German Shepherd dogs
featured in fictional stories
on film, radio and television,
who starred as Rin Tin Tin
belonging to elite K9 Korp
receiving unexpected support
courtesy end of gum
(cryptic message for ye
to chew on) sympathizers
voluntarily boosted success
at recouping major financial setback
my morale viz extempore.
rapprochement somewhat salvaged dislocation

Truth be told about following poem
mostly written quite some years ago,
and revisions made to recreate
a more satisfactory literary product.

This trademark ungainly, unsightly,
and unwieldy title essentially
huzzah mask queer aid,
(my humble apology NOT
to incite unwanted
and unwonted anger
among lgbtqia community),
and accentuates tendency
(mine) to administer
reverent unpretentious yawping,
sans (asper thy usual)

wordy, quirky, nutty, heady, easy...
and gallimaufry charade,
though pointed lament
decries copious blather,
which awareness (in tandem
with better devilishly cherubic angels)
prevail upon sesquipedalian
nippy nap noopy quirkiness, might be
in my best (in show)
interest to evade
leaving an unsuspecting

reader psychologically frayed,
and without doubt prematurely
finds same cyber surfer
harried and grayed,
styled akin to experience dramatic,
and sudden onset of progeria
hence, a concerted effort
will be orchestrated, i.e.made
so everyone involved woodwind
fur me (a hip cat) tabby
conscientiously choosing

meow me modus operandi
to mute trumpeting,
associated with this one man
faltering hit parade,
hence, an intent to write
swiftly tailored and more clearly,
cogently, and creditably
qua more understandable to invite,
subsequently witnessing, an
increased authorial fan
base, and unite

easy to comprehend
underlying intelligent conversation,
and/or share something trite,
anyway, thee impetus regarding
risking emailing a younger sister,
where repressed spite led
to dissolution, née cessation
of brotherly linkedin communication
engendered me to make right
egregious emotional estrangement,
principally vitiated, nursed,

generated, augmented
(thank you very much) by me,
viz in sum avoidance behavior
(traipsing, purring, loping,
humming, and doodling along) quite
familiarly, easily, (no matter
discontentedly), alas and alack
moment seemed apropos
for this only bro
their to allow, enable,

and proffer selflessness -
pushing aside ego
(mine) and attempt to go
for the gusto ***
embarking, kickstarting, and
resolving upon reasonable resolutions
to convey persevere re-establishing
cordiality, despite misgivings
toward Shari Todd
thee family member in question.
We now get along swimmingly
analogous to this bro and his older sis
on the cusp of our gifted silver married years
if her presence absent, I would sorely miss
after earlier decades bereft of wedded bliss.

Rarely did yours truly acknowledge birthday
of his former fancy free presently aging bride
gathered rosebuds while
rolling in our figurative hay
contra dance paramours
playing seek and hide
as we skedaddled down the line
hoot'n and holler'n hooray
nsync with foot stomping music airing pride
without prejudice, where
sense and sensibility accompanied sashay

vaguely hinting Puritanical ethos of Jane Austen
sexually stifled era, nevertheless
suppressed flirtation pried
loose courtesy adulterous,
affectionate and amorous way
love blind prospective husband
pledged marital covenant whereby
till death doth she part, I avowedly did stride
both of us pledged troth,
when marital Gordian knot tied.

Grim reaper eventual sweepstakes
will claim yours truly and me spouse anon
obliged to answer for whom the bell tolls... -
thank you John Donne,
perhaps mine missus gains
unexpected posthumous renown
thru sewing self styled couture
repurposing scraps of material
even in afterlife her unflagging spirit

banging out sought after stitched
assortment constituting richly adorned rags
hence cause for feted celebration
representing subsequent earth orbit around sun
lovely bones of counterpart being reincarnated
into favorite flower such as Peace Lily won.

Direct attestation, communication, exclamation,
genuflection, profession...
challenging verses crafting poetic adulation
mother of deux daughters I adore
with reasonable rhyme, a literary chore
feeble attempt and lame attempt made to explore
elements of style to write loving emotions galore
and disappointing if husband did ignore
one special day among
three hundred and sixty five
less for any obligation
but more so cuz sincere motive doth jive.

Impossible challenge-response mission
to captcha alive
elusive essence defined as love
exhibited via hormonal secretion
penetrating breastworks
hoping arousal to connive
(no fallacy) as anatomical male divining rod
scouted fertile crescent,
wherein peppy did dip and dive
that drove dis once young rammy man
(during me bachelorhood daze)
sexually afire by twenty and five

celibacy spurred stir crazy state
giving bee steel impression hive
been cruelly, seriously, and unhappily deprived
feasting upon verboten fruit
unhealthy suppression plus anxiety
spelled premature *******,
and presently enjoy spouse as finest companion
no matter testosterone drive went in reverse
meaning to fiendish predilection fornicate moot.

Thee marriage strongly bolstered principally thru
playful dynamics and/or verbal/oral *******
resolving regular potential conflicts
sets virtual stage to stave off violent altercations
most likely regarding insignificant issue
summoning forth active/deep listening
a renewable (non toxic) resource.

H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y

— The End —