"proverbially" poems
Doc, I've been trying to deal with these issues for quite sometime to no avail;
A good friend of mine (you may know him, Elmer Fudd) recommended you.
I fear I will never be able to eat, let alone catch this turbo inspired example of flightless foul;
Stuck in this celluloid world vividly inspired by an Emmy award winning colorist.
I am a proud animal from generations of fine breeding, born in the pristine coyote valley;
I am not stupid, not a fool or buffoon, and so I thought contractually, not one to be laughed at.
And I, always the bad guy, constantly daunted in pursuit by haphazard ACME products;
Expensive, bulky, time consuming, they characteristically fail right before they almost work.
Rocket powered skates, unfortunately, only allow me to kiss the cliff-side really really hard;
Very heavy anvils serve no other purpose than to be dropped on my head repeatedly.
The incredulous manipulations of the impossible by the so clever writers of this farce;
From trains appearing out of nowhere to run me over, to fierce lightning storms in an instant.
Laying there in the release of my own bowels as the uncontrollable result of
500 Megajoules of energy traveling through my body yet again.
I am the twice electrified mass of dribbling spastic protoplasm
Personified proverbially in that lightning does indeed strike twice in the same place!
As the smoke arises from my chard hairy frame and I sweep up my ashes to reassemble later;
I realize Doc, I'm losing my grasp on the reality of ever succeeding, I need your help!
I'm still hungry;
And still I have not caught that **** Road Runner,
**** you Warner Brothers!
-----ChawzzyScript
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
Sometimes I am more than convinced
The only thing keeping me tethered to the wet, dark, autumn dirt
Are the whorls and swirls on the pads of my toes.
Circuitous and tangled, curling up and in one another,
These are the only lines holding me firm to my world of moleskin notebooks, keyboards, plums and tea cups.
It seems such a tenuous connection.
Perhaps,
I will wake one morning to find myself subject to the laws of physics once more,
And feel the reassuring press of gravity on my shoulders,
Secure in the knowledge that I will not loose my self to the cold, black, unknown-ness of space.
Until then, I am here-
Proverbially barefoot, toes digging into the cold and sleeping soil,
Trying to get a grip.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
Creating realities after realities is a nice practice,
A bit dangerous as well when done myopically.
The ability to empathize to points of others’ specificity,
Writes a narrative now more than one can see.
We take our blinders off,
And open the doors of the world.
Be cautious in listening to the self alone,
For other beats may give you a better rhythm.
Why remain the protagonist
In an epic of false dichotomies?
When you can be no one
In a prose that makes sense arguably?
A step back is a mere change of direction,
Nothing is similar as fire may be the basic stuff of the universe.
Breathe the air of the proverbially found boys,
Yet be sharp to be conscious of the notes you hear that you enjoy.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 11:23 AM UTC
do not confuse rage for emotion
our EmoTions are in check as
we calculate and
devise a plan to
proverbially
and literally
peal
your
hands off our *****
do not confuse a women's tears for fragility,
for her tears are full of pain and anger and the future,
that does not need to include you
you were not considered in the plans of the matriarch,
not out of hate
but simply because you are unimportant
do not confuse her hips for beauty,
those hips are waterways to life
that you have no right to even
lay your weak eyes open
you cannot make the calls
do not confuse
losing to being lost
losing lives
losing songs
and
voices
and
laughter
and
our bodies
and POWER
does not mean that this ocean
of strong woMYN are lost
We have always been found
and we will too,
overcome the darkness in you.
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 1:40 AM UTC
I've become so numb due to the unforgivable things I've done
And I know you'll still hate me by the end of this
but I just wanted to say I'm sorry.
I'm in searing pain every night
but I'm getting better during the day.
It was you who always said
"pills won't take the aches away
pills won't make you feel okay
pills won't get you through the day,"
and you were right, because my antidepressant was YOU.
But when you, unlike the medication, decided to walk away
I turned to the orange bottle
because it remains constant,
it is the friend you never were,
it is the lover you would never be,
it doesn't make promises it can't keep,
and it doesn't make me wonder every waking moment of my life whether or not this day is the one it leaves me.
No, that day won't come.
But it did with you.
And now, as I drown in sorrow that floods my eyes like the happiness that used to flood the burning and gaping holes in my heart,
you unregretfully, unrelentlessly bask in the memories of the sunny summer days we spent in the park,
lying with him and to him, wearing nothing but the t-shirt I gave you so long ago.
Whether you proverbially or physically slapped me in the face, it doesn't matter, because either way I'm lying here shaking and in pain,
with hate in my heart, and regret pulsing out of my veins onto the raw skin of my wrists.
No, there can't be a new dawn,
I don't see a new day coming
but I know you do, and that kills me the most.
And after all of our love-and-war tug-of-war ******** is over and done,
contrary to previous belief, I wasn't your only one.
I wasn't your hero,
I let you down,
and you won't even talk to me long enough for me to apologize.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
no matter this dawg gone pup
took numerous took
one after another cat nap
his utterly fatigued
body electric still ragged
as if he went without sleep for a lifetime,
ensnared within a time warp,
espied that aggravating "aw SNAP"
(error code instead of a webpage
indicating Chrome happens to be
experiencing problems loading)
or, simultaneously
caught in a narcoleptic parent trap
thus, while a burst of energy
temporarily doth prevail
(a priori which extreme fatigue
of body, mind and spirit -
more troublesome worse than -
getting crucified
with a rusty nine inch nail
alleviated with deep sleep finds
much more tiredness
than usual quotidian sleepiness
bruiting this male)
being imprisoned (for high
gram matt tick crimes
and misdemeanors) such as: comma, splices,
dangling a modifier, splitting an infinitive,
unnecessary parenthesis (), et cetera
which landed me punctually,
proverbially, and squarely in jail
fed thin gruel with grubs that didst flail
nauseating pluperfect revulsion
each time hide exhale
which, many hours long rests did restore
for a bit of time only for totally tubular
exhaustion to come roar
ring back leaving me tour
charred as if...i fought in every major war.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
a minor typo found this fanatic spell binding hound to resend a poem dashed off in a huff (past the hour) if nothing else than fur his peace of bot tee, mind. Thus this Norwegian bachelor wannabe (most closely aligned with said status closely attained unmarried state by pledging my Unitarian troth) tilled, sown, and furrowed spirit nsync with the missus sleeping in close proximity.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
dog tired this day - march 29th, 2018
no matter this dawg gone pup
took numerous one after another cat nap
his utterly fatigued
body electric still ragged
as if he went without sleep for a lifetime,
ensnared within a time warp,
espied that aggravating "aw SNAP"
(error code instead of a webpage
indicating Chrome happens to be
experiencing problems loading)
or, simultaneously
caught in a narcoleptic parent trap
thus, while a burst of energy
temporarily doth prevail
(a priori which extreme fatigue
of body, mind and spirit -
more troublesome, and worse than -
getting crucified
with a rusty nine inch nail
alleviated with deep sleep finds
much more tiredness
than usual quotidian sleepiness
bruiting this male)
being imprisoned (for high
gram matt tick crimes
and misdemeanors) such as: comma, splices,
dangling a modifier, splitting an infinitive,
unnecessary parenthesis (), et cetera
which landed me punctually,
proverbially, and squarely
in the slaammed shut jail
fed thin gruel with grubs that didst flail
nauseating pluperfect revulsion
each time hide exhale
which, many hours long rests did restore
for a bit of time only for totally tubular
exhaustion to come roar
ring back leaving me tour
charred as if...i fought in every major war.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 10:45 PM UTC
It was immaterial who had fired the first proverbial shot in the great Schenectady logomachy.
What was immediately clear, however, after the proverbial dust had proverbially settled
was that the battle had left no survivors.
Proverbially.
And what had begun as a simple ballot measure to rebrand the municipal mascot
had ended in the annihilation of every intellect in Schenectady County.
And much of the East, West, and No Coast regions of the United States.
The grass roots campaign to replace the Schenectady Patriot with the Schenectady Concientious Objector
(a figure no less devoted to country, but more "free thinking," its proponents would argue)
had gathered unexpected steam when introduced to the public at large
in a tweet by the nation's commander in chief.
The inevitable result being a relentless and fast paced evolution of the story
by all-day-all-night-all-the-time news producers.
All using the same words with different tone and inflection.
And the relitigation of every detail
by 37% of American households.
Including 6% that didn't actually give a **** but enjoyed participating.
So what had been good natured
and modestly ambitioned
civic badinage
progressed through all the stages of twenty-first century newspeak
familiar to the politically observant of the time.
With any nuanced or genuine debate
relegated to micro-audienced podcasts
and IRC channels scattered about the internet.
And when the measure passed.
As part of a pendulum swing greater than itself.
The victors
taken by surprise
and frayed at all edges
by the death threats and vitriol visited upon them in the preceding weeks
felt sure
that everything would be better off simply left alone.
While their detractors
apoplectic
foretold the end of civilization.
And prepared accordingly.
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 6:02 AM UTC