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Albert had an ARTHRITIC knee
which gave him curry

The core of a BOIL is oft hard
to extract

Yesterday June experienced
a server stomach CRAMP

Too much dry weather
can cause the outer DERMAL layer to peel

Never read in a poorly lit room
for you'll have EYE strain

After eating spicy pickles
dad had bad FLATULENCE

Some twenty eight years ago
my friend Helen had her GALLBLADDER removed

They say that a glass of water
will stop HICCUPS

From end to end
our INTESTINAL tract is thirty foot long

On Sunday afternoon John
broke his JAW playing football

Some people have
very boney KNUCKLES

One of my work colleagues
is prone to getting LARYNGITIS

Colin suffers terribly
with MIGRAINE headaches

Sometimes people tend
to endlessly NAVAL gaze

A woman's OVARIES need to be checked
on a regular basis for any abnormalities

The PANCREAS secrets a hormone
known as insulin

QUININE once was extensively used
in the treatment of Malaria

Since my sister has put on weight
she cannot find her RIBS

The STIRRUP bone lies
within one's ear

Dan Aykroyd the famous comic star
has webbed TOES

Should you bump your ULNA bone
it may give you reason to groan

The VARICOSE VEINS is great aunt Ruby's legs
were very pronounced

Does anyone know of a good remedy
for unsightly WARTS

At our local hospital
we have an antiquated X-RAY machine

As tiredness and weariness sets in
one YAWNS quite a lot

****** ZOSTER can make
a person constantly itch
"Oh yes, I went over to Edmonstoun the other day and saw Johnny, mooning around as usual! He will never make his way."
Letter of George Keats, 18--


Night falls; the great jars glow against the dark,
Dark green, dusk red, and, like a coiling snake,
Writhing eternally in smoky gyres,
Great ropes of gorgeous vapor twist and turn
Within them. So the Eastern fisherman
Saw the swart genie rise when the lead seal,
Scribbled with charms, was lifted from the jar;
And -- well, how went the tale? Like this, like this? . . .

No herbage broke the barren flats of land,
No winds dared loiter within smiling trees,
Nor were there any brooks on either hand,
Only the dry, bright sand,
Naked and golden, lay before the seas.

One boat toiled noiselessly along the deep,
The thirsty ripples dying silently
Upon its track. Far out the brown nets sweep,
And night begins to creep
Across the intolerable mirror of the sea.

Twice the nets rise, a-trail with sea-plants brown,
Distorted shells, and rocks green-mossed with slime,
Nought else. The fisher, sick at heart, kneels down;
"Prayer may appease God's frown,"
He thinks, then, kneeling, casts for the third time.

And lo! an earthen jar, bound round with brass,
Lies tangled in the cordage of his net.
About the bright waves gleam like shattered glass,
And where the sea's rim was
The sun dips, flat and red, about to set.

The prow grates on the beach. The fisherman
Stoops, tearing at the cords that bind the seal.
Shall pearls roll out, lustrous and white and wan?
Lapis? carnelian?
Unheard-of stones that make the sick mind reel

With wonder of their beauty? Rubies, then?
Green emeralds, glittering like the eyes of beasts?
Poisonous opals, good to madden men?
Gold bezants, ten and ten?
Hard, regal diamonds, like kingly feasts?

He tugged; the seal gave way. A little smoke
Curled like a feather in the darkening sky.
A blinding gush of fire burst, flamed, and broke.
A voice like a wind spoke.
Armored with light, and turbaned terribly,

A genie tramped the round earth underfoot;
His head sought out the stars, his cupped right hand
Made half the sky one darkness. He was mute.
The sun, a ripened fruit,
Drooped lower. Scarlet eddied o'er the sand.

The genie spoke: "O miserable one!
Thy prize awaits thee; come, and hug it close!
A noble crown thy draggled nets have won
For this that thou hast done.
Blessed are fools! A gift remains for those!"

His hand sought out his sword, and lightnings flared
Across the sky in one great bloom of fire.
Poised like a toppling mountain, it hung bared;
Suns that were jewels glared
Along its hilt. The air burnt like a pyre.

Once more the genie spoke: "Something I owe
To thee, thou fool, thou fool. Come, canst thou sing?
Yea? Sing then; if thy song be brave, then go
Free and released -- or no!
Find first some task, some overmastering thing
I cannot do, and find it speedily,
For if thou dost not thou shalt surely die!"

The sword whirled back. The fisherman uprose,
And if at first his voice was weak with fear
And his limbs trembled, it was but a doze,
And at the high song's close
He stood up straight. His voice rang loud and clear.


The Song.

Last night the quays were lighted;
Cressets of smoking pine
Glared o'er the roaring mariners
That drink the yellow wine.

Their song rolled to the rafters,
It struck the high stars pale,
Such worth was in their discourse,
Such wonder in their tale.

Blue borage filled the clinking cups,
The murky night grew wan,
Till one rose, crowned with laurel-leaves,
That was an outland man.

"Come, let us drink to war!" said he,
"The torch of the sacked town!
The swan's-bath and the wolf-ships,
And Harald of renown!

"Yea, while the milk was on his lips,
Before the day was born,
He took the Almayne Kaiser's head
To be his drinking-horn!

"Yea, while the down was on his chin,
Or yet his beard was grown,
He broke the gates of Micklegarth,
And stole the lion-throne!

"Drink to Harald, king of the world,
Lord of the tongue and the troth!
To the bellowing horns of Ostfriesland,
And the trumpets of the Goth!"

Their shouts rolled to the rafters,
The drink-horns crashed and rang,
And all their talk was a clangor of war,
As swords together sang!

But dimly, through the deep night,
Where stars like flowers shone,
A passionate shape came gliding --
I saw one thing alone.

I only saw my young love
Shining against the dark,
The whiteness of her raiment,
The head that bent to hark.

I only saw my young love,
Like flowers in the sun --
Her hands like waxen petals,
Where yawning poppies run.

I only felt there, chrysmal,
Against my cheek her breath,
Though all the winds were baying,
And the sky bright with Death.

Red sparks whirled up the chimney,
A hungry flaught of flame,
And a lean man from Greece arose;
Thrasyllos was his name.

"I praise all noble wines!" he cried,
"Green robes of tissue fine,
Peacocks and apes and ivory,
And Homer's sea-loud line,

"Statues and rings and carven gems,
And the wise crawling sea;
But most of all the crowns of kings,
The rule they wield thereby!

"Power, fired power, blank and bright!
A fit hilt for the hand!
The one good sword for a freeman,
While yet the cold stars stand!"

Their shouts rolled to the rafters,
The air was thick with wine.
I only knew her deep eyes,
And felt her hand in mine.

Softly as quiet water,
One finger touched my cheek;
Her face like gracious moonlight --
I might not move nor speak.

I only saw that beauty,
I only felt that form
There, in the silken darkness --
God wot my heart was warm!

Their shouts rolled to the rafters,
Another chief began;
His slit lips showed him for a ***;
He was an evil man.

"Sing to the joys of women!" he yelled,
"The hot delicious tents,
The soft couch, and the white limbs;
The air a steam of scents!"

His eyes gleamed, and he wet his lips,
The rafters shook with cheers,
As he sang of woman, who is man's slave
For all unhonored years.

"Whether the wanton laughs amain,
With one white shoulder bare,
Or in a sacked room you unbind
Some crouching maiden's hair;

"This is the only good for man,
Like spices of the South --
To see the glimmering body laid
As pasture to his mouth!

"To leave no lees within the cup,
To see and take and rend;
To lap a girl's limbs up like wine,
And laugh, knowing the end!"

Only, like low, still breathing,
I heard one voice, one word;
And hot speech poured upon my lips,
As my hands held a sword.

"Fools, thrice fools of lust!" I cried,
"Your eyes are blind to see
Eternal beauty, moving far,
More glorious than horns of war!
But though my eyes were one blind scar,
That sight is shown to me!

"You nuzzle at the ivory side,
You clasp the golden head;
Fools, fools, who chatter and sing,
You have taken the sign of a terrible thing,
You have drunk down God with your beeswing,
And broken the saints for bread!

"For God moves darkly,
In silence and in storm;
But in the body of woman
He shows one burning form.

"For God moves blindly,
In darkness and in dread;
But in the body of woman
He raises up the dead.

"Gracile and straight as birches,
Swift as the questing birds,
They fill true-lovers' drink-horns up,
Who speak not, having no words.

"Love is not delicate toying,
A slim and shimmering mesh;
It is two souls wrenched into one,
Two bodies made one flesh.

"Lust is a sprightly servant,
Gallant where wines are poured;
Love is a bitter master,
Love is an iron lord.

"Satin ease of the body,
Fattened sloth of the hands,
These and their like he will not send,
Only immortal fires to rend --
And the world's end is your journey's end,
And your stream chokes in the sands.

"Pleached calms shall not await you,
Peace you shall never find;
Nought but the living moorland
Scourged naked by the wind.

"Nought but the living moorland,
And your love's hand in yours;
The strength more sure than surety,
The mercy that endures.

"Then, though they give you to be burned,
And slay you like a stoat,
You have found the world's heart in the turn of a cheek,
Heaven in the lift of a throat.

"Although they break you on the wheel,
That stood so straight in the sun,
Behind you the trumpets split the sky,
Where the lost and furious fight goes by --
And God, our God, will have victory
When the red day is done!"

Their mirth rolled to the rafters,
They bellowed lechery;
Light as a drifting feather
My love slipped from my knee.

Within, the lights were yellow
In drowsy rooms and warm;
Without, the stabbing lightning
Shattered across the storm.

Within, the great logs crackled,
The drink-horns emptied soon;
Without, the black cloaks of the clouds
Strangled the waning moon.

My love crossed o'er the threshold --
God! but the night was murk!
I set myself against the cold,
And left them to their work.

Their shouts rolled to the rafters;
A bitterer way was mine,
And I left them in the tavern,
Drinking the yellow wine!

The last faint echoes rang along the plains,
Died, and were gone. The genie spoke: "Thy song
Serves well enough -- but yet thy task remains;
Many and rending pains
Shall torture him who dares delay too long!"

His brown face hardened to a leaden mask.
A bitter brine crusted the fisher's cheek --
"Almighty God, one thing alone I ask,
Show me a task, a task!"
The hard cup of the sky shone, gemmed and bleak.

"O love, whom I have sought by devious ways;
O hidden beauty, naked as a star;
You whose bright hair has burned across my days,
Making them lamps of praise;
O dawn-wind, breathing of Arabia!

"You have I served. Now fire has parched the vine,
And Death is on the singers and the song.
No longer are there lips to cling to mine,
And the heart wearies of wine,
And I am sick, for my desire is long.

"O love, soft-moving, delicate and tender!
In her gold house the pipe calls querulously,
They cloud with thin green silks her body slender,
They talk to her and tend her;
Come, piteous, gentle love, and set me free!"

He ceased -- and, slowly rising o'er the deep,
A faint song chimed, grew clearer, till at last
A golden horn of light began to creep
Where the dumb ripples sweep,
Making the sea one splendor where it passed.

A golden boat! The bright oars rested soon,
And the prow met the sand. The purple veils
Misting the cabin fell. Fair as the moon
When the morning comes too soon,
And all the air is silver in the dales,

A gold-robed princess stepped upon the beach.
The fisher knelt and kissed her garment's hem,
And then her lips, and strove at last for speech.
The waters lapped the reach.
"Here thy strength breaks, thy might is nought to stem!"

He cried at last. Speech shook him like a flame:
"Yea, though thou plucked the stars from out the sky,
Each lovely one would be a withered shame --
Each thou couldst find or name --
To this fire-hearted beauty!" Wearily

The genie heard. A slow smile came like dawn
Over his face. "Thy task is done!" he said.
A whirlwind roared, smoke shattered, he was gone;
And, like a sudden horn,
The moon shone clear, no longer smoked and red.

They passed into the boat. The gold oars beat
Loudly, then fainter, fainter, till at last
Only the quiet waters barely moved
Along the whispering sand -- till all the vast
Expanse of sea began to shake with heat,
And morning brought soft airs, by sailors loved.

And after? . . . Well . . .
The shop-bell clangs! Who comes?
Quinine -- I pour the little bitter grains
Out upon blue, glazed squares of paper. So.
And all the dusk I shall sit here alone,
With many powers in my hands -- ah, see
How the blurred labels run on the old jars!
***** -- and a cruel and sleepy scent,
The harsh taste of white poppies; India --
The writhing woods a-crawl with monstrous life,
Save where the deodars are set like spears,
And a calm pool is mirrored ebony;
***** -- brown and warm and slender-breasted
She rises, shaking off the cool black water,
And twisting up her hair, that ripples down,
A torrent of black water, to her feet;
How the drops sparkle in the moonlight! Once
I made a rhyme about it, singing softly:

Over Damascus every star
Keeps his unchanging course and cold,
The dark weighs like an iron bar,
The intense and pallid night is old,
Dim the moon's scimitar.

Still the lamps blaze within those halls,
Where poppies heap the marble vats
For girls to tread; the thick air palls;
And shadows hang like evil bats
About the scented walls.

The girls are many, and they sing;
Their white feet fall like flakes of snow,
Making a ceaseless murmuring --
Whispers of love, dead long ago,
And dear, forgotten Spring.

One alone sings not. Tiredly
She sees the white blooms crushed, and smells
The heavy scent. They chatter: "See!
White Zira thinks of nothing else
But the morn's jollity --

"Then Haroun takes her!" But she dreams,
Unhearing, of a certain field
Of poppies, cut by many streams,
Like lines across a round Turk shield,
Where now the hot sun gleams.

The field whereon they walked that day,
And splendor filled her body up,
And his; and then the trampled clay,
And slow smoke climbing the sky's cup
From where the village lay.

And after -- much ache of the wrists,
Where the cords irked her -- till she came,
The price of many amethysts,
Hither. And now the ultimate shame
Blew trumpet in the lists.

And so she trod the poppies there,
Remembering other poppies, too,
And did not seem to see or care.
Without, the first gray drops of dew
Sweetened the trembling air.

She trod the poppies. Hours passed
Until she slept at length -- and Time
Dragged his slow sickle. When at last
She woke, the moon shone, bright as rime,
And night's tide rolled on fast.

She moaned once, knowing everything;
Then, bitterer than death, she found
The soft handmaidens, in a ring,
Come to anoint her, all around,
That she might please the king.

***** -- and the odor dies away,
Leaving the air yet heavy -- cassia -- myrrh --
Bitter and splendid. See, the poisons come,
Trooping in squat green vials, blazoned red
With grinning skulls: strychnine, a pallid dust
Of tiny grains, like bones ground fine; and next
The muddy green of arsenic, all livid,
Likest the face of one long dead -- they creep
Along the dusty shelf like deadly beetles,
Whose fangs are carved with runnels, that the blood
May run down easily to the blind mouth
That snaps and gapes; and high above them there,
My master's pride, a cobwebbed, yellow ***
Of honey from Mount Hybla. Do the bees
Still moan among the low sweet purple clover,
Endlessly many? Still in deep-hushed woods,
When the incredible silver of the moon
Comes like a living wind through sleep-bowed branches,
Still steal dark shapes from the enchanted glens,
Which yet are purple with high dreams, and still
Fronting that quiet and eternal shield
Which is much more than Peace, does there still stand
One sharp black shadow -- and the short, smooth horns
Are clear against that disk?
O great Diana!
I, I have praised thee, yet I do not know
What moves my mind so strangely, save that once
I lay all night upon a thymy hill,
And watched the slow clouds pass like heaped-up foam
Across blue marble, till at last no speck
Blotted the clear expanse, and the full moon
Rose in much light, and all night long I saw
Her ordered progress, till, in midmost heaven,
There came a terrible silence, and the mice
Crept to their holes, the crickets did not chirp,
All the small night-sounds stopped -- and clear pure light
Rippled like silk over the universe,
Most cold and bleak; and yet my heart beat fast,
Waiting until the stillness broke. I know not
For what I waited -- something very great --
I dared not look up to the sky for fear
A brittle crackling should clash suddenly
Against the quiet, and a black line creep
Across the sky, and widen like a mouth,
Until the broken heavens streamed apart,
Like torn lost banners, and the immortal fires,
Roaring like lions, asked their meat from God.
I lay there, a black blot upon a shield
Of quivering, watery whiteness. The hush held
Until I staggered up and cried aloud,
And then it seemed that something far too great
For knowledge, and illimitable as God,
Rent th
Carl D'Souza Oct 2021
Quinine is used as medicine
to treat malaria in humans,
and quinine was originally derived
from a species of plant
named Cinchona;

I wonder
haw many new medicines
can be discovered
in plants, animals, insects, bacteria and
in all the species
of living-beings
on this wonderful Creation
we call Earth?
A is for anthill which I have in my drive
B is for buzzing from a hidden bee hive
C is for cockroach that run all round the house
D is for droppings, that have been left by a mouse
E is for egg sack that hangs in my trees
F is for flying which the bugs do with ease
G is is for gophers which inhabit my yard
H is for hillocks with which my yard is marred
I is for insects which are all I can see
J is for june bugs, they're as big as my knee
K is for killing which I try to do
L is for lugworms that are shaped like a *****
M is for Mickey and his mousey like friends
N is for never...this infestation won't end
O is for Oscar, my scared orange cat
P is for well...***...and he's good at that
Q is for quinine which I leave out to treat
R is for rodents, which I want Oscar to eat
S is for slugs which are killing my grass
T is for totalled, just give me a match and some gas
U is for underwriter who has insured my place
V is for vermin, that now own all my space
W is for water with which I started a flood
X is for poison, which will thin out their blood
Y is for Yertle, a turtle by suess
Z is me sleeping...to bugs and vermin on the loose
Chris D Aechtner Aug 2012
Momentary lapses of shyness within pretentiousness the size of a non-la-hat
offering shade from the sweltering sun,
confused the boy still residing beneath an
exterior of brashness. A wooing of rose or
lotus petals? Did she not enjoy such frivolity?
What of a bard letting words slide through
the air like silk, for I didn't possess such
romantic poetry.
__

Instead, I embarked upon a journey of false-heroism, took a bullet, figured it to shape me
into a man. I showed off the wound, blood soaking through the bandages--you seemed far from impressed by this display of stupidity.
Yet you played coy, bending over,
letting sunlight play through a thin
summer dress, highlighting inner thighs,
lines arching up into a dome of dizzy-
delirium so sensual it almost appeared sinful.

At night you'd undress before a naked
window, let shadows flirt across moonlit dew.
It was all I could do to keep eyes averted,
instead, living on dreams of unwrapping gifts
under the influence of feverish waves,
even though I never forgot to take quinine.

And after all the games, I had only to stay
still long enough for you to complete another sketch, take its lines, breathe together a new poem, unleashing torrents of words into my ear. A funny sort of unconventional, tactile courtship. You wanted for me to listen,
to test my patience, and once your head
was emptied out, heat arose from the bloom, enveloping me in soft petals, vanquishing
my fever, with a different feverish embrace.
Your eyes almost felled me with their complexities of virginal innocence and a whorish lust. The thrusts,
lips and fingers, the blended push-pull
of rhythm and wild abandon
caused me to lose myself long enough,
to find your soul drifting alongside my own,
amongst the stars that had always been shining amongst the light already written
before our birth.
June 2nd, 2012
A tale of dawn where
my genius at play for her beads
if thunder hie will quicken quinine
why Doeville surely nigh and on route yon
that bare a drove her handkerchief spar
in field with hills to make her rich still clad in negligee
and between her steps arose Carthage in antiquity
a lore of ages to unfold Spain today
with a guitar strumming this spicy song of quest so inane
As such let us see a referendum
Obscurity's trenchant
     sorrows blotting
        tissue paper cuts,
tears aptly smeared
    in hidden fears of
        first dashed allusions,
darkly flippant metaphors
       sans passionate accolades
          left to gingerly decay,
    grandiloquently speaking,
       'Happily Ever After' is
           hardly a verbose nuance
             throughout a quinine
                         poet's collection
I. quinine and honey

His fight and fierceness
are unrivaled
inviting
like the solace of sleep
to the freezing

addiction, dependence, provocation
i’m washed in the tide
of His everlasting breath
plunging out in rimy clouds
he reached out
and thawed me,
hands interlaced
if only for a moment

i take in His body,
the unleavened bread:
delicate, diaphanous
caramel skin
dappled with freckles
stretched taut over a
light but athletic frame

doused with
mulled wine
an earthy sweet redolence
of spice, sour cherry,
fruit and florals,
smoke, and amber resin

reminders of those cold,
firelit winter nights
flannel button-up pajamas
rosy cheeks and cracked, swollen lips
strong pourover coffee and
steaming jasmine white tea
at five in the morning
when i would shiver
and He would hold me tighter
we were so happy we were afraid

i run my fingers
through His silken
sun-softened sable hair

His heart, however,
holds sentiment
incomparable to my votive
there is only Him

sometimes
even the quinine
finds itself too bitter
that it may yearn for
honey
to drown
it
to honey: so that the last taste after the bitter journey is always sweet.

~ILIAD~
this series, inspired by the greek epic of the same name attributed to homer and madeline miller's "song of achilles", is a narrative of my life, short as it may be. i [attempt] to explore everything from race to sexuality, to friendships and reconciliation. i hope you take something from this. you can read in whichever order you like, as a series or as standalones.
if surf this morning is seldom slack
when a garter holds up its string

this chuff is fishing that spoonful glimmers
while bait require quinine indelibly
by the sea

where squalk among clouds patrol crowd
that hasten to crack the sound

newly afoot a dock seemingly hottie taut darken wheel has line aboard and always say peekaboo  
by the sea
a man has a boat near the sea that  a  dock hasten surf
ox brome
laze his
trim and
tire infibulate
below and
water sink
his quinine
if she
arise pain
that spirit
heed the
noxious mud
where gastric
in her
bone only
a Bon
there seed
Below Tower Hill where the hangman stands still
and the condemned man will plead for a break,
there's a crow on the gallows
that laughs at these sparrows
and waits for the sun going down.

In the orchard of dreams where
apple bulb beams light up like a
pinboard on speed
there's a need for the spectacle of poor men in manacles
and for their suffering to be long and drawn out.

The Madder Family,
whose cinchona supplies me
with quinine,
which I drink like good wine in
a bad dream and it stops all the sweats and
the long drawn out screams, so the apple bulb
beams have no use for me.

In a land fit for doctors and therapy
I drown, twice weekly on a couch
for a large fee.
I inconsolably wept a river of sorrow
starkly aware alienated daughter(s)
implacable woe sundered fatherhood
yesterday, today and tomorrow.

A series of unfortunate events
(move over Lemony Snicket)
set in motion since my birth
unleashed impotent scrawny infant
registering 3,000,716,593 third
baby born on planet earth
swaddled emulating uterine hearth.

Oblivious to death, his ear splitting yowling
triggered lactation, which kept him alive,
where he blissfully suckled guaranteed immunity,
yet thru childhood chicken pox and mumps
he gain said grim forecast and survive
living social threescore and four years
amidst emotional travails
including life threatening bout
with anorexia he did thrive.

Mein kampf and lovely bones
analogous to graveyard
the wind thru unmarked tombstone moans
issuing melancholic tones.

Quintessential tear ducts relentlessly secrete
grim reaper who no mortal can cheat,
yet offspring must not precede parents,
hence tis regarding scythe
(memento mori symboling untimely death)
stealing prized progeny,
and forever silencing her heart beat.

She leads charmed enviable life
physically active with all manner of sport
unlike yours truly and the wife
whereat the former (an aspiring wordsmith)
experiencing psychological demon
that brandish blood dripping knife.

Accursed pained longevity I must bear
illustrative of existence,
where mental health did career
all too human to err,
nevertheless daughter will not forgive
no matter schizoid personality disorder
inherited courtesy one or more forebear
me, the singular son and addle brained heir
sired by Boyce and Harriet

whose pop and mom genes
transmitted self destructive traits
that did unwittingly impair
embedded within mine being
analogous to knitwear
fraught with mistake
and evident in me a longhair
pencil necked geek near
to thinning out viz receding hairline
versus once golden locks xtra ordinaire

when just a lad mistook me being queer,
yet homosexual preference rear
if non existent, yet notions
of same *** flagrante delicto thoughts
flickered decades ago
regarding to timeshare
once skinny self while at Antioch College,
especially when unexpectedly approached
by ******* clad Adonis
donned in frilly underwear.

As one sexagenarian
becomes more sanguine,
he nevertheless struggles to decouple
his boyhood, adolescent, late teen
and emerging adulthood
experiences that left bitter
after taste of quinine,
and prompts tremendous us to pine
for halcyon days recalling mine
blissful years at 324 Level Road
Collegeville, Pennsylvania
they mostly ranked as divine.
concerning yours truly
poor righteous leftist sole.

Attempting nightly ritual
nsync with sole and
instep of beat
January second 11:33
two thousand twenty two
footwear equipped with
custom made cleat
proudly standing tall
(think) as an elite
able, eager, and ready
to sprint skyhigh fleet
ting into netherlands
(towering well over
other wiry contestants,
hence exception to

maximum height waved
outrageous illegitimate forfeit
chore blithely Atlas shrugged off),
the fountain head
whereby marathoner Olympian
amidst godly pantheon did greet,
then melted starter blocks
competitors crouched tigerlike
deftly gunning generating barreling heat
fast as greased lightning
Achilles catapulted courtesy blur,
zee mister (oak kay)
tree - man, i.e. helpmeet,
he roundly squared off
accompanied by his wifely entreat
for sakes Pete.

Thus situated, positioned, and finagled
husbandry duty obliging the misses,
no matter she kick started
(think thrashing outsize toddler)
childish task deemed
markedly cockameemie design,
subsequently these little feet (mine)
stood stolid upon bedroom floor
she did man date me,

supplicating, necessitating,
imploring, and decrying divine
intercession, cuz thee mademoiselle
did authoritatively assign,
thee mister getting mine
handy dandy grip upon her supine
corpulent physique
outstretched leaden legs
awaiting (the missus)

salute perfect sign
to commence powerfully
prying and pulling
first straight then nine
tee degrees practically pulling
footloose and eventually
detaching fancy free
thunder thighs, what strong
amazing anatomical design

nearly defying might
of super rich a$$ a nein
bird brainer heron
an ill eagle cro-magnon scheme
to untie clodhoppers
snug as a bug in a rug,
whence laces unknotted free
and clear whirled,
wide webbed formerly tangled skein
fo shoe more intolerable
than swallowing quinine.
therefore he characterizes himself as an anomaly...any idea why?

Mortified, petrified, stultified, et cetera sheltered,
and mortally wounded prepubescent,

I consider myself
analogously buttressed, cocooned,
garrisoned (for bing keeler),
hardened, insulated,
where cell baited jumping frog
o' Montgomery County ne'er
went leaving larvae stage,
now no divine providential
power can assuage,

yours truly metaphorically locked
within invisible iron bound cage
every occasion to shower
validates steep wage
permanently doled out,
yet tis futile to rage
against this human machine
i.e. body dielectric rampage
clocking three scored

orbitz chronological gauge
forever fixed feigned fodder,
when unlived uber story
of mein kampf writ faint
chicken scratch final page
gin hated anorexic
regressive toddling cribbage
deadly game of mine Life pampered
post infancy attended

Aladdin (a lad in) his hermitage
late childhood marriage
with grim reaper as
coefficient co-inhabitant
feasting emaciated lovely bones
verily scrawny, puny, and
nerdy, yea easy to lyft
courtesy lost livingsocial scrimmage
trademark spindleshanks -

stagnant embarrassingly useless
two legged equipage
at childhood's end...,
me skinny package then
weighing, eh no
more'n half dozen stone,
these days when
******* to wash
forced to espy physical

**** sapiens wreckage
constant visual reminder
this spare rankled, stunted,
tendered ship of state,
yours truly nah oh sage
enlightenment gleaned i.e.
20/20 hindsight kickstarted
quickened, leveraged, mortgaged...,
principly unbalanced worthiness

anatomical disparity
impossible mission to salvage
accounting rent permanently askew
fixed APR rendered
amortization sabotage
irreversible penalty suffrage
escaping serfdom volunteering
self as webbed vassalage
til death do me part.

Subsequently, his female
persona pacified, but *****
Wonka who could offer
the golden ticket
to the chocolate factory
(and provide restitution
to mine childhood,
whereat I could select
the road not taken
setting me on a course
to healthy maturation

of body, mind, and spirit)
honest to dog housed
somewhere in Philly
within himself aptly,
coed gently, optimally,
suitably, verily, wonderfully
called Anna Milly,
which readership reception
might surprisingly please Billy
me not intended tubby
icy cold nor chilly...

After chugging, guzzling,
sipping, quaffing... wine
bitter to this teetotaling
(pharmacological medication dependent)
tongue as quinine
undoubtedly equally unpalatable
getting pricked with rusty nine
inch nails, (thank you
Trent Reznor) analogous
to being crucified
(been there done that)
inebriated self actualization
regarding mine
mental clarity crossed

figurative thin blue line
abnormality dawned
inside fifty shades
of gray matter marinated
these long years in brine,
which realization bubbled,
fizzled, nudged, plastered,
eventually spurred
bile lent reflux
in short shrift
generating poem without
rhyme, reason, but
essentially drivel concocted
blimy verse unarguably asinine.

Just bear with me and
swallow this poetic bunk,
no matter (ah mint) absolute
zero ***** drunk,
nor other alcoholic beverage
(amber liquid of
the dog gods) downed,
despite feeling in
deep purple funk
cuz that would wreak havoc
courtesy grapes of

wrath fermented gunk
very little liquor necessary
to plaster laughingstock
(sand thrown in these myopic eyes)
by any best buy, garden variety,
home depot hunk
treating me like
unwanted, outdated, and housed
née cooped (with toys in the attic) junk
enshrouded himself covered
with dust evokes monk.

Quickly, mostly easily forgotten about
elapse of time promoted doubt
regarding, weekday, month, year...
and purposeless either
to twist or shout
cuz pervasive fishy developmental
gill tee subservience deeply
affected him while
trout fishing in America.
The following poetic account
written more'n a dozen ***** dancing decades ago,
while I (a socially withdrawn **** Sapiens)
one indigent Yahoo
groveled along (on a secret Msn)
along boulevard of broken dreams,
whereby yours truly forced to eat crow
quite challenging cuz
wonky twittering angry birds
alive and well darting hither and yon to and fro
able, eager, ready, and willing
to gouge out the eyes of one common Joe.

Arduous agonizing affliction
didst unrelentingly assault and assail...
aghast to exhale... lest I would lose
desperate clinging clutch
held by more'n one
but less than eleven  
bloodied cracked fingernail
phantasmagoric phalange *******
like tendrils constricted
stoppering me to whisper or wail

against being swallowed
courtesy COSMOFUNNEL
into hello poetry tumblr
(think Alice in Wonderland
falling into rabbit hole)
yawning abyss menacingly beseeched
hmm...release could immediately curtail
cumulative (lifetime's worth) travail
freefalling at lightspeed, jump/
kick starting pirouetting unnervingly,

unstoppably, unwaveringly... zipping
into edge of night
along the outer limits
of the twilight zone
defining, harboring lurking dark shadows
spelling infinite black hole sun - hell
buzzfeeding me where linkedin
earthlinked hotmail of pinterest,
suffering lovely bones would ail
making minced meat out of me

“****” analogous to an imagine aery dragon
vanish as guilt – courtesy didst hail
analogous storm trooper peppering
Pennsylvanian's psyche... with eternal jail
time for eternity excluded option
asper garden variety baby boomer male,
albeit the father of deux darling daughters,
the eldest (broke vow of silent communication),
she reached out after
months long hiatus telltale
sign indications to accept genuine apology

her biological father (me) culpability
regarding destitution raged against hurtfulness,
he affixed indelible psychological
scars each etching indelible travail
boomeranged back to yours truly duress
during her impressionable years, she did rail
and rant similar to countless
previous conversations, the scale
innocent intelligent progeny, we begat
(myself and misses) financially ill prepared
to provide respectable accommodations.

Our "dirt poor" status detrimental
livingsocial among affluent MainLine
incomes luxe Lower Merion
living costs fateful design
neighbors cursed, ostracized, vilified...
unsightly unkempt property (i.e. unmanicured)
intolerant snobs didst malign
child welfare services called NOT to dine,
but emphatic for papa and mama to align
dwelling safe and secure for minors
and miners for a heart of gold

yes, I attest despicable living conditions
crowded house with Zison heirlooms
owners - malignant hoarders did confine
considerably reducing cubic feet,
they relations of spouse evicted us
ready to point carbine
at temple...quicker than noose
dead of winter 2010 near homelessness
relocated within "roach motel" decline
'twixt omnipotent covalent
carbonic, harmonic, opportunistic bond

among our dynamics with offspring
livid with rage, asper an inferno no divine
comedy compounded by lascivious
behaviour - mine to hasten dateline
enduring helplessness, hardship
being alive plus brandished carving knife
against self witnessed...I assign
poor marks as paternal parent,
who bemoans loathsome
impact...this papa gropes toward hotline
writhing with agony
worse fate than swallowing quinine!
Infinite pitch black void zoomed,
I vacillated then pitched headlong
(head and knobby knees, over heels)
where skeletons in shuttered closets roomed,
and antithesis of freedom loomed
large (think) cosmic size grand canyon groomed
courtesy the once mighty Mississippi,
now barely a babbling brook in places

espouses, and cloisters unbridled wedded bliss
till after honeymoon, than couple fumed
one accusing the other of infidelity
absolute zero witnessed crime of passion
lifeless bodies in shallow grave entombed
after violent retribution forensic experts
determine homicide after lovely bones exhumed
shotgun marriage from getgo doomed
structured sound of silence boomed.

Against the wishes of slumbering wife,
the following I nonetheless narrated,
to you how she temporarily held
yours truly check (mated),
thus eternal salvation sought
at healing waters of Lake Woebegone
repurposed conscious being
to experience sanguine mood linkedin
attending high school reunion
ridding hypocrisy, modesty,
and travesty initially I hibernated
away from madding crowd
once for all ascending
soul asylum gilded gated

stairway to heaven
consanguinity amidst deceased brethren
impossible mission to discern,
dawdling against inevitable fated
doom, thus I nevertheless equivocated
and bemoaned series of unfortunate events.

Daniel Handler an American writer and musician
best known for his children's series
A Series of Unfortunate Events
and All the Wrong Questions
Lemony Snicket honestly created
salvation blissfully, knowingly belated
and thankfully ameliorated.

At long last doomed existence
finally fancy free and footloose
Earthly afflictions divine creator
severe trials and tribulations let loose
promise body, mind and spirit triage
**** physical, mental, and
spiritual afflictions permanent vamoose
yoked Sisyphean and mephistophelean woe
summoning herculean strength
(mine) to vanquish
courtesy (halloo) gibbet welcome noose
necks stop outer limits analogous cooked goose.

Neither family nor scant friends twill mourn
severance outlook linkedin inextricably forlorn
accursed psychological agony since I got born
incessantly pilloried courtesy bullies hood scorn,
yours truly convenient scapegoat raked over hot coals
preferable versus insidious,
malicious, nefarious, opprobrious

querulous, ridiculous, salacious...
suffering post traumatic stress disorder wartorn
invisible battle scars branded me, yet well worn
shell shocked comfortably numbed skull
(just another brick in the wall)
jimmied heavily inebriated distilled, cracked corn
trumpet silenced (think) muted horn.

Anger at self wells up
regarding passive stance (mine)
convenient akin to jellyfish,
and/or crustaceans without spine
essentially a dorky nerdy wimpy kid
i.e. faulty genetic design
unsure if attributable to Capricorn zodiac sign
essentially allowed, enabled and provided
easy excellent access akin to scavengers to dine

bitter draughts synonymous quaffing quinine
bobble headed, I
meekly, grudgingly, admittedly opine
figuratively forced down gullet - nein
letup liberally heaped upon
courtesy 20/20 hindsight, a tangential pact
with Sue S. Side, promising starvation diet
package deal plus absent I, cant see
(now a tan - gent) unwittingly did cosign.
Infinite pitch black void zoomed,
I vacillated then pitched headlong
(head and knobby knees, over heels)
where skeletons in shuttered closets roomed,
and antithesis of freedom loomed
large (think) cosmic size grand canyon groomed
courtesy the once mighty Mississippi,
now barely a babbling brook in places

espouses, and cloisters unbridled wedded bliss
till after honeymoon, than couple fumed
one accusing the other of infidelity
absolute zero witnessed crime of passion
lifeless bodies in shallow grave entombed
after violent retribution forensic experts
determine homicide after lovely bones exhumed
shotgun marriage from getgo doomed
structured sound of silence boomed.

Against the wishes of slumbering wife,
the following I nonetheless narrated,
to you how she temporarily held
yours truly check (mated),
thus eternal salvation sought
at healing waters of Lake Woebegone
repurposed conscious being
to experience sanguine mood linkedin
attending high school reunion
ridding hypocrisy, modesty,
and travesty initially I hibernated
away from madding crowd
once for all ascending
soul asylum gilded gated

stairway to heaven
consanguinity amidst deceased brethren
impossible mission to discern,
dawdling against inevitable fated
doom, thus I nevertheless equivocated
and bemoaned series of unfortunate events.

Daniel Handler an American writer and musician
best known for his children's series
A Series of Unfortunate Events
and All the Wrong Questions
Lemony Snicket honestly created
salvation blissfully, knowingly belated
and thankfully ameliorated.

At long last doomed existence
finally fancy free and footloose
Earthly afflictions divine creator
severe trials and tribulations let loose
promise body, mind and spirit triage
**** physical, mental, and
spiritual afflictions permanent vamoose
yoked Sisyphean and mephistophelean woe
summoning herculean strength
(mine) to vanquish
courtesy (halloo) gibbet welcome noose
necks stop outer limits analogous cooked goose.

Neither family nor scant friends twill mourn
severance outlook linkedin inextricably forlorn
accursed psychological agony since I got born
incessantly pilloried courtesy bullies hood scorn,
yours truly convenient scapegoat raked over hot coals
preferable versus insidious,
malicious, nefarious, opprobrious

querulous, ridiculous, salacious...
suffering post traumatic stress disorder wartorn
invisible battle scars branded me, yet well worn
shell shocked comfortably numbed skull
(just another brick in the wall)
jimmied heavily inebriated distilled, cracked corn
trumpet silenced (think) muted horn.

Anger at self wells up
regarding passive stance (mine)
convenient akin to jellyfish,
and/or crustaceans without spine
essentially a dorky nerdy wimpy kid
i.e. faulty genetic design
unsure if attributable to Capricorn zodiac sign
essentially allowed, enabled and provided
easy excellent access akin to scavengers to dine

bitter draughts synonymous quaffing quinine
bobble headed, I
meekly, grudgingly, admittedly opine
figuratively forced down gullet - nein
letup liberally heaped upon
courtesy 20/20 hindsight, a tangential pact
with Sue S. Side, promising starvation diet
package deal plus absent I, cant see
(now a tan - gent) unwittingly did cosign.
Infinite pitch black void zooms,
I vacillate to pitch headlong (head over heels)
where freedom looms
large (think) cosmic size grand canyon grooms
espouses, and cloisters unbridled wedded bliss
structured sound of silence booms.

Dawdling against inevitable fate
temporarily holds in check (mate)
eternal salvation woebegone
grievance to ameliorate
repurposed conscious being (me)

sanguine reunion ridding travesty
once for all ascending soul asylum gilded gate
consanguinity amidst deceased brethren
impossible mission to discern,
thus I equivocate.

At long last doomed existence
finally fancy free and footloose
Earthly afflictions divine creator
severe trials and tribulations let loose
promise body, mind and spirit triage
**** physical, mental, and

spiritual afflictions permanent vamoose
yoked Sisyphean and mephistophelean woe
summoning herculean strength
(mine) to vanquish
courtesy (halloo) gibbet welcome noose
necks stop outer limits analogous cooked goose.

Neither family nor scant friends twill mourn
severance outlook linkedin inextricably forlorn
accursed psychological agony since I got born
incessantly pilloried courtesy bullies hood scorn
yours truly convenient scapegoat raked over hot coals

preferable versus insidious,
nefarious, and opprobrious
suffering post traumatic stress disorder wartorn
invisible battle scars branded me, yet well worn
shell shocked comfortably numbed skull
jimmied heavily inebriated distilled, cracked corn
trumpet silenced (think) muted horn.

Anger at self wells up
regarding passive stance (mine)
convenient akin to jellyfish,
and/or crustaceans without spine
essentially a dorky nerdy wimpy kid
i.e. faulty genetic design
unsure if attributable to Capricorn zodiac sign
essentially allowed, enabled and provided
easy excellent access akin to scavengers to dine

bitter draughts synonymous quaffing quinine
figuratively forced down gullet - nein
letup liberally heaped upon
bobble headed, I opine
courtesy 20/20 hindsight, a tangential pact
with Sue S. Side, promising starvation diet
package deal plus absent I,
(now a tan gent) unwittingly did cosign.

— The End —