I Blink 182 times,
Can I Handle This
This is the Sum of 41 reasons I won't smile this holiday
I'm feeling like I may Fall Out, Boy do I hate thinking about who's buying your presents this year.
It's weird how this holiday season is always a new All Time Low
**** this place. I would much rather Walk The Moon fixin for something that warms my heart again. So I hold it in my hands and breathe.
And I Imagine Dragons breathing fire onto my skin, maybe someone will call me hot.
Maybe Someone will Hear Me.
I sit on my Front Porch Step Aware of the Mayday Parade that marches down my spine and I forget how to walk.
How to talk
how to breathe as I Panic! At the disco music that you seem to really like.
You are memories of a ride in a Death Cab
For Cutie I Will Follow You Into The Dark.
If I'm not already there.
And I will Parachute into Owl City and lie in your bed that is a Passion Pit.
It entramps me and keeps me hostage and I hate what your sheets feel like.
You make me think that love is Of Monsters and Men and that women don't feel that word.
You have killed me a thousand times,
Queen
of ******* over the things I have planned.
We are My Chemical Romance a toxic ******* life threatining carcinogen trying to **** me.
But this is Kinda Punkish I Guess and again I have my playlist.
That sounds like you but it saves me and doesn't **** me.
Here's a Simple Plan this holiday. Leave me the **** alone this year.

this is why i'm not getting married
**** me
bury me with a teddy bear
it would be considered too hot for
more friction, the kind that doesn't result in
smelly sheets, obviously not here, to them.
**** me
bury me with earplugs but put them in after
I decide to leave
tell most of the women whom I would've loved if they'd let me
that I love them, if you're stumped I'll write a list:
Grace
Caitlin
Courtney
Aubrey
Kate
Malena
**** me
bury me with stardust so I can fit in wherever I'm going

I am in love with angst,
am attracted to rebelliousness.
Hand signs are ******* fine
& genuice Docs are the way to go.
Purple glitter & spikes,
colorful sleeves & loud-piped bikes
are for me,
You see clearly now,
I'm a punk &
I wanna make
a statement,
"Kiss my ***",
because you can.

Oh you no 7 x 7 isn't 49
And there ain't no way in the world
That your soul could possibly be dead
Cause you seeing those crashing waves
Yes you hear them and their loud
But somewhere deep inside that head
There is something else to be said
Last night I dissapeared from sister
And yes I lie when I say I don't miss her
I wrote her a note while sailin' away on a boat
Oh how I lie when I say I don't miss her
Whisper to the night and expect not an answer
Alone in a world spinning with disaster
Words that twirl eventually are wet with drool
Mary sister yes once used to be my master
A fortnight was alright until the birds started chirping
So early that I just couldn't stand it
I buried the hatchet in this heart long ago
And no the action was not at all outlandish
Passing through years that felt like seconds
As the sound of my sister still beckons
Lightning cracks as I bend my back
For a dollar in inevitable squalor
An open road for the hipster toads
Lures the weak ones with spirit like dreams
But these monsters that linger inside our heads
Our myth with apparition standing stiff
Link the chord and be bored with the music you heard before
Cause' the times that were a changing are now no more
Look forward to the quick and easy fix
A painting that costs one thousand and ten licks
Hang it for coffee, hang it for drink, hang it for the boyfriend who you believe can think
For that is what we are all really looking for
A masterpiece of sincerity a tip toein' with authenticity
Convinced I've felt the real thing
A shadow tells me that I am not here
No never, not at all
The back of a bedroom says that this room is full
My girl is at the end of the hall
Standing alone, no bone but mine
The reader grins afraid and victorious
All at the same time
Tell me what I did, what I said, who the gutter girl ****** in bed
Aftermath of publications punkish in their poors
Metal metaphors of anarchy wishing that they were similes in "the feel"
Goodnight to your grand opening selling that thing with the feathers
Why bother with something that I can't shoot in the eye, bake with a pie
Eat while the year is passing and the cars won't stop to bother
Hello, yes?, I'm here, are you? Yeah, why?, cause you wanted me to get here man!!!!!!
OH YEAH OH YEAH OH YEAH I PLUM FORGOT
Silly at night sinking softly in the morning but the nightlife ain't a morning cause a the stink of her breath
****** tosses a hat in the air, dies, another comes and takes his place
Continue
Black and blue with a ink blot test gone array
The starry night sky with a million cities burning
Minions of monsters move so fast madly that your own thoughts forget themselves and remember the hair of your first love that seemed like an ancient angelic mare
Not a possibility of the sea where there are no currents that can move the memories of transitory commerce that made another guy rich and another guy poor
Oh so poor
Oh so dead
Oh so filled with **** previews that make young men and women rich on clips of fat like a steak thrown away
Concrete pours on the heads of the righteous filled to the brim with ideals of theological fantastics that in the hemisphere spelling never did exists all the while the black lines, yet with yet, tell themselves secrets jingling bells with sapphire eyes all the while caught off guard with a thousand endless secrets still wishing they had millions
A mystery novel produced, never read, but remembered
Hallow in the heart, she said to me, hallow and crazy
Ok then toward the end the street said right or left and I chose up
A girl, mexican, wished one day she could believe that she was clean
A wet spot on the rug told me not to tug at his anxiety and his belief
Ok then, where do we go from here?
No, I don't tink' I know the answer
"Do you?" No. "Do you?" Nope. "Are you answering for me or are you answering for yourself?" I'm answering for the chalkboard cause' I like the sound of chalk on the thick green skin
Forget about it until the time comes for the girl behind you with the *******
Read a note from a girl and she said she loved me
Said I hated her and she still said she loved me
Were married now
Not a thing special when the dance makes up your soul
Forgetting that time ticks for the sure and the scared
OHHH what happiness comes from check good and cashed
Which preferment plan for the milk and the maid
The honk and the duck's blade?
Farming in the depths of dirt that reminds me of my young girth
A plentiful place where images flicker on the edge of sinister

Time Volume: 1
I’m eating up the hours
one by one.
Blink.
Click.
Blink.
another screen,
more non-words
Blink.
Click.
Just letters.
Click
9000 more words
blink
and more time.
Click.
To be forgotten.


Learning to forget
The melting *** cast a boy and I ran outside,
A slime soaked goblin, a monster from the pit
Lobbing clods of mud at a harmonic sky
Whirring with dragonflies and lolloping bees.

Sun and rain prepared a day on a different earth
Where there was life in the monkey puzzles,
And scuttling battle grounds that
hid hundred-handers beneath concrete slabs.  
Gravel churned up tiny black dragons,
rotten logs, fortresses of tiny fiends.

I had a sword in my hand, I was noble.
Defender of the realm, scourge until tea,
The hero of worlds
everyone else couldn’t see.


Time volume 2**
Excalibur was stuck fast
When the new branches fell
Click.
the tips of my fingers are beginning to rot.
Blink.
Click.
If only I could
blink
stop the second
click
See the world behind glass.
blink
and dance out of time.
Click.
This snow globe,
Is not the Antarctic.


Artificiality in Imagination
Turning my back on time and space with
Bottled brains, ***** mist, powdered thought
I chiselled into old pathways.
I carved a silk road through synapse and nerve
to return to my monsters.

I saw a sickness of colouration
A lynx effect for the sky
tearing punkish streaks into the atmosphere
that were quickly blinked away.
Sunspots, cloudbursts, tussocks, grass,
Paper squares, green, red, purple, pink, blue,
pungent smoke, bugs, ripples, shivers,
polka dots and blank spots.
A storm-cloudy stomach.

The perspective of a head plastered to the soil again
saw thing for what they were,
a tiny amazon thought lost to rationality.
My heart thumped for a fear and joy
in a way forgotten by time.


Time Volume 3
Why is it called wasted when it is time well spent?
Click.
my god, my eyes hurt.
Click.
Just 9000 more words.
Click.
What would I give for a pretty girl sat under a tree.  
Click.
search * (pretty girl sat under tree)
Click.
She’s hot.
Click.
So is she.
Click.
… could always.
Click.
don’t be stupid.
Click.
Just 9000 more words.


Fantasy for a Counterpoint
I questioned what’s real when she blinked at me
and stopped existing  when she closed her eyes.
No one taught us to write in blood,
Tattoo our names into each other’s skin,
Leaving claw marks for the world not to see.

Whatever you drew was Van Gough
Whatever you said was Keats,
Whatever bruise you left was Tyson’s.

The outer layers of or skin are dead,
It’s funny whatever you touch on a person,
Is already dead.

Just before our love got lost
I noticed a thread break away from the braid
Around your head,
a small incongruity,
That made your hair a mess.

Love became what it was when you said you were
‘as constant as the northern star’,
And I replied, ‘yes - always in the dark’.


Time Volume 4
This is progress for my sake,
Just in time.
Blink.
Time is money.
Click
Time flies.
Blink
A stich in time
Click
This is a paradigm of nothing time.
Click
I’ve got so much time.
Click
And so little time to waste.
Blink
I’m a long time dead.


Hope for a handful of dust
Eventually I will while away these lonely hours.

What black rocks stir while we sleep?
What prayers rumble still, among old stones?
Do they speak the eternal city and glow civilised blue -
Or burn timeless black?

Does the probing ivy find us out
And the blunt head of a worm investigate
our most intimate parts?

Or does a spectre rise from the soil
To live under children’s beds?

When is the point that death
Becomes something breath-taking -
And the brook, my brown blood,
The dead leaves my skin,

Is it fantasy
to put something
where nothing should be?

The soft earth will **** me in
And give my brittle bones
To worms and crows
What stirs beneath the stones,
may always be worms and crows

I like this
Style you have
The hair
Perfectly sculpted to be
Falling just over your eyes
The pout
That one might call
‘Boyish and cute’
The punkish clothes
That look questionably good
On your suburban boy body
I like this
Style you have
But I do not love it
Because I cannot love someone
So different from me
So perfect compared
To me

Storybooks provided a safe haven
to escape daily onslaught from school
yard punkish bullies. Cowardice, fear
full ness, insecurity…. writ large
upon this then diminutive carapace
(more a car ap than an ace), which I
firmly believe suffered stunted growth.

Non-verbal passive behavior (asper
yours truly) ideal fodder for carnivorous,
ferocious, inxs, et cetera kickstarter ma
lice oppressing quiet soul uber wounded
bent knee (possibly quirk during gestation
sparked profound difficulty assimilating,
comprehending, and gifting spent with
in womb) wretch.

Mailer daemons choked bravery. Absent
courage endeared grievous kinetic mission.
Onset of self starvation (which evolved
via gradations) omitting first one then two,
and finally declining sustenance into a lad
opting to die.

As a licensed practical nurse (LPN)
my foregone mother resorted to whip
(while playing Devo) nutritious concoctions
in tandem with giving me iron injections
upon one or other cheeks of ma bony tucks.

A figurative boat loaded raft of mental
weaknesses epitomized by refusal to take
food (death held in check by late mate
of father), without question unequivocally,
maximally and heavily impinged on ability
to function.

An accomplice devilishly game inside Kapell
meister Matthew Scott appeared to possess
upper hand. Will power to expunge an ever-
exhausting cerebral dual.

This oppressive nihilistic, quixotic tragic turn
of psychological events (courtesy of Anorexia
Nervosa) plagued mindset kept healthy positive
growth development locked up.

Indifference affects a gamut of personal facets.
Ambition to terminate tender teen torturous
troubles dominated, and wrought asunder,
an imprimatur etched into present day
consciousness.

Though barely squeaking thru a dozen grades
poor dividends reaped. Such absence of per
severance found me undeserving of a high
school diploma.Upon graduation (no popinjay
pompous circumstance felt), uncertainty prevailed
asthma ah...ah...ah...chew zen objective.

Thus, this scrivener (who attempts to capture
those ever elusive sentiments of yore) expended
precious time and money flitting (hither and yon –
to and fro) one university after another.

Now aye make light of the matter and tell those,
who inquire about my college days “I spent time
in many institutions…of higher learning”.

Cumulative result from difficulty coping
with changes (albeit of self or circumstances)
left inability to be master of my domain. Fools
rushed in where angels feared to tread.

Attitude, credo, and ethos (or devoid of said
positive qualities plus generosity, integrity
and time management) set very unsound stage
for failure performance  as sought after employee.

while surfing cyber seas today March 2nd, 2021.

Actually yours truly quite a literate codger
(ah shucks just missed being draft dodger)
no not for baseball team, but Vietnam War
circa November 1, 1955 – April 30, 1975.

Though non establishmentarian logophile,
battle weary shambling thru gauntlet aisle
where nasty, short and brutish bullies hurt
painfully shy socially withdrawn little boy
now scores of years later courtesy reverse
peristalsis generates yellow-green fluid

made by liver stored in gallbladder and
passes through common bile duct into
duodenum where it helps digest fat bile
law, said obnoxious nefarious miscreants
cannot leave a innocent victim (scathed
for life) receive just deserts after mature

individual summons courage and doth dial
representative strong arm of law to exile
forcing motley crew to march single file
into custody, where delinquent juvenile
obligated to under rehabilitation - ofttimes
impossible mission easier thread camel
thru eye of needle by kilometers or mile,

which lock em up philosophy (to redeem
any salvageable thread of humanity etched
within damaged punkish ****) might find
accused ring leader pointing in one direction
poor (young) fella suddenly exhibits scared
quivering (like loosed arrow) harried style.

Writing, (albeit hyperbolic and poetic) riffs
mine therapeutic and cathartic panacea to vent
emotional tears and ruptures patched courtesy
passion cobbling words literary figurative stent
linkedin bajillion fractured pieces of my psyche
to blunt and/or sublimate psychologically pent

up psychological travails, plus I attend therapy
iterated thru previous literary postings (Renee
Cardone - a Clinical Social Worker Specialist
Royersford, Pennsylvania), she graduated
with honors in 1982, her existence meant
as dogsend https://springfordcs.doxy.me/sfcsrc.

Other holistic strategies to cope with legacy
of emotional fallout (I don't necessarily blame
any cruel teasing nor genetic proclivity with
schizoid personality disorder) courtesy dame
Kuritsky (mother dearest), who passed away
almost sixteen Earth orbitz ago, her - a flame
figuratively caught eyes of Boyce Brandon
both young flirts played catch me if can game.

Retrospective ascertaining origin of why
and how I found life, liberty and pursuit of
happiness such an onerous struggle - thy
inherited genetic genealogical robust stock
(predominantly Ashkenazi) might qualify
me as certifiably Jewish, though atheism
constitutes schema of existence well nigh.

While yours truly sat here
at the desk housing MacBook Pro,
pondering his next idée fixe apropos
for gamut of anonymous readers,
he unexpectedly, noisily and effectually
exploded out rear end;
perhaps ye heard or felt
the ground beneath your feet tremble;
the missus didst not stir in her sleep
yesterday (May 29th, 2023)
when my troubles
seemed so far away.

Jog me memory I did
with a little help figuratively
nabbed, pilfering, ransacking, et cetera
compilation of previously written poems
which involved scrolling thru
screen after screen of feeble attempts
to craft some stellar literary creation.

Worm I going with this line?

Just by a fluke,
I came across a scenario
where humorous embellishment
will (clear as water) diminish credence,
but slight fabrication will help revival
encompassing an outing with then girlfriend,
who eventually became the missus.

Upon the first date (mucho decades ago)
not quite two score
and three and a half years ago
with the gal, whose troth
aye did pledge allegiance to wed
(anniversary inching itsy bitsy
spider like up to
seven and twenty earth orbitz),
we agreed to dine
at an avante garde Tex-Mex eatery

in North Wales, Pennsylvania,
where angels feared to tread
carefully scrutinizing bon appétit
the menu selection,
a touch of Latin lick QED
all American version sans
south of the border cuisine –
Quod Erat Demonstrandum –
translations spit out
in rapid fire Hispanic

by a beady eyed
pierced and inked kid named Ned,
whose couture favored a punkish style
with spiky gelled green hair,
piercings galore and necklace
with a genetically modified
sizable entombed glassy pricey jewelry
encased insect in amber lead,
which beastly fully intact organism
with a miniature grizzly bear like head
momentarily hypnotizing me

pray tell, yours truly nudged himself
out of trance sans this egghead
who made a selection
by randomly landing finger
on an item feigning to be well bred
unbeknownst choice promised
concussive radioactive fallout
squelched with utmost difficulty
nearly impossible mission
to avoid loosing buttuck blast

if belched out the posterior;
**** would have catapulted,
delivered fatalistic deafening roar
wreaking havoc to life and limb
costing countless lives
regarding innocent restaurant patrons,
whose arbitrary choice
to partake of their repast
at aforementioned *****
unnamed restaurant analogous
ending with tragicomic farce.

After this Señor ingested
an ample number of mouthfuls
of beans and rice
that quelled most severe hunger pangs
mine lower gastrointestinal tract,
felt a bubbling and gurgling sensation
played through impropriety struggled
with gaseous mounting perturbations,
what promised to be hot malodorous,
would induce an air raid

from this “wind bag,”
(whose puckered, preserved, pickled, et cetera
and stinky namesake
occupies a place
at the Mutter Museum,
whose saving grace erroneously divine),
when wallet of suede discover herd
visa vis tubby devoid of cash,
thus convenient excuse to beat
the tirade of volcanic eruption
on the cusp of belching forth
found me bolting out the restaurant door
fortunately not waylaid

and madly dashing
(like some fiery comet dancer)
performing a cheeky number
hopping on one foot than the other –
since forceful blast triggered kidneys
to be tapped, thus prancer two step
extemporaneously incorporated
while awaiting available ATM
only to espy debit printout slip
inadequate funds available
zero balance in checking account.

While expulsion of noxious fumes
from thine sphincter courtesy  
brought relief as aye nonchalantly
prior to strolling inside cozy diner,
and slipped into me seat disinclined
to relate eave vents to future spouse,
the ****** aeration and stream of *****
(freed to water secluded copse)
from me magic flute which,
amazingly synchronized
with the Maximus glute
after consuming food
triggered ***** to toot.

Nevertheless, shortfall of legal tender
unfortunately and subsequently found
yours truly shackled,
impressed, forced, et cetera
as dishwashing galley slave
dashed mine coveted
bowed need for highstrung Cupid
annihilating, detonating,
hexing, et cetera
opportunistic spell
to don and trumpet myself
as artful dashing romancer.

Please pardon mine assertion
I dared to surmise
familiarity with me,
an avid reader and prolific writer
(mainly to appease personal pleasure)
thus upon embarking upon
reaching out, your curiosity piqued.

Daily onslaught from schoolyard
punkish bullies ace
thus, storybooks provided
haven to experience liberation
cowardice, fearfulness, insecurity
low opinion regarding base
sic selfhood writ large upon,
this then diminutive carapace,
I firmly believe stunted growth
with me hallowed face
non-verbal passive behavior
ideal fodder did grace

for carnivorous, ferocious,
incredulous, and malicious preface
to young adulthood oppressing
quiet soul as if race
sing existence qua
Wounded Knee leg uss see
(possibly trace sub bull
during fertilization,
conception, and accruing
gestation within, what
would become a ways
trill womb did) fetal wretch.

Mailer daemons choked bravery
absent courage did endear
grievous inner mission
self-starvation parents did fear,
(which evolved via gradations)
omitting first one repast to share
then two, and finally declining
sustenance into a lad opting to die

butta as a licensed practical nurse
(LPN) this then puny guy
became top priority,
and my mother resorted
to whipping high
lee nutritious concoctions
in tandem with
giving me iron injections

upon one or other posterior cheeks
of ma bony derriere no lie,
the sharp pain of the needle
stoically I bore, while my
thoughts adrift upon cerebral raft
of mental weaknesses de nigh
yule lovely bones epitomized
by refusal to eat -

no hands could pry
jaws of death clutched stranglehold
on life without bing shy,
heavily impinged ability
to function, and fatigued
when aye did try
to exert myself even minimally,
and now wonder why....

An accomplice devilishly game
more dishabille coaxing
than any bon mot
inside Kapellmeister Matthew Scott
possessed upper hand.
lack of will power
to expunge did rot
exhausting cerebral dual
nihilistic paradigm plagued
ever since a tot.

Mindset robbed positive growth
development locked with lost weight
indifference affected gamut of other persons
ambition to terminate tender teen
dominated, wrought asunder
aim toward deadly state
impinged witnessing barely squeaking
thru majority grades rate
to fail paid poor dividends reaped
Absent perseverance found pate
never sought academic support,
hence high school diploma hate
to acknowledge, when
no effort made plus spectral
of near invisibility
did NEVER steal a kiss nor date.

Thus an attempt for companionship
(even if limited to online realm
reasonable rhyme I tried to create
also cathartic, holistic, and therapeutic  
courtesy linkedin words
mental anguish I alleviate.