thine distorted reflection rippled
within rain maker's pool upon a midnight clear
full moonlight flooded shallow abyss,
cleaved fractal structures of silence
reverberating deathly hallow from 'ere
to infinity, whence magic wand
whipped out from whereabouts unknown

wove enchanting spell atop me shades
at more'n fifty gray hair
to fore, awakened from drunken stupor,
whence sober self
saw repulsive trouper fluid dynamic image jeer
at *** bellied, dead panned,
and ad libbed the mere
ore image lam bent, mutilated spindled
various aspects of myself a paired

which, aghast at such creepy distortion i didst rear
like a bucking bronco unclear
how this horrid, jagged, limned paragon did wear
a grotesque from heart of darkness – maybe Zaire
or Zulu-land, this soaked silhouette half bare
from the waist to head showed unmanly
sagging overly engorged *******
plus right and left elephant sized ear
egad, THAT CANNOT BE ME,

yet upon performing self exam a glare
ring outburst ensued,
cuz thy once bronzed handsome physique
grist for a Joker to jeer
and fodder made for television series created,
directed, and executed by Norman Lear
which role might be temporary for Halloween, but near
lee every SINGLE day and night,
thy aged dusk fraught hominid ******,
leaped, pooh poohed I ham ill prepared

to accept, roistering, rollicking,
rueing this Frankenstein scarred
complex deplorable edifice able,
ready, and willing to be tarred
rather than evince flabbiness,
gruesome homeliness, instance

when no objection would arise

to live out the remaining days of this life
as the world wide web turns, spins, rattles...
and voluntarily sign myself into a stew ward
with (at minimum ), a ghoulish, gnarly,
gummy self activated door
leading to a privet hedge row trimmed
topiary resplendent yard
cuz every cotton pickin, friggin,
fingerhut lickin portal iz barred
dated Friday the thirteenth with **** face on that card!

I brought myself to this horrendous decade
Darkness all over the esplanade
Nothing heard, I hear nothing said
Apart from the terror with which I’m being fed
Shakingly,tears running,I have committed internal homicide
My soul destroyed, again it needs to be purified

Disturbia,
Its simple,its the disease in my mind
Disturbia,
My faith lost,left for me to find
Disturbia,
Scared to my bones,what might occur? No time for me to rewind

My whole life in my hands ruined
All my decisions incautious,my doing
Hunting me is my disturbia ,my feeling of rueing
By its hands of evil,yes i have been varied
My superiors guidance forgotten, buried
I fear for me,I am greatly worried

Disturbia,
The chaos,my creation, i cant escape
Disturbia,
My perfect world crushed, now i have to scrape
Disturbia,
Undefined torture in its unbearable state

When shall i awake from this nightmare

The series of darkness all around me, truely near

I’m searching for thee to make my life illuminate

Out of havoc so purity can accentuate

My reality gradually has become a travia

But now its time , departure for me is the end of my disturbia.

Thine distorted reflection rippled
within rain maker's pool
   upon a midnight clear
full moonlight sonata
   flooded shallow abyss,
cleaved fractal structures of silence
reverberating deathly hallow from 'ere
to infinity, whence magic wand
whipped out from
   whereabouts unknown

wove disenchanting spell
   atop me shaded noggin more'n
   fifty ruffle lake  suns
   Dorian Gray pictured here
to fore, awakened
   from drunken stupor,
whence sober self

saw repulsive trouper
   fluid dynamic image jeer
at *** bellied, dead panned,
and ad libbed the mere
ore image lam bent,
   mutilated spindled
various horrid aspects of
   myself nine inch
   rusty nails impaired

which, aghast at such
   creepy distortion i didst rear
like a bucking bronco unclear
how this horrid, jagged,
   limned paragon did wear
a grotesque disfigured Joeseph Conrad
   lost within heart of darkness – maybe Zaire

or Zulu-land, this
   soaked silhouette half bare
from waist to head showed unmanly
sagging overly engorged *******
plus right and left elephant sized ear
egad, THAT CANNOT BE ME,

yet upon performing
   self exam a glare
ring outburst ensued,
cuz thy once
   bronzed handsome physique
now grist for a Joker to jeer
and fodder made
   for television series created,
directed, and executed by Norman Lear
which role might be
   temporary for Halloween, but near
lee every SINGLE day and night,
thy aged dusk fraught hominid ******,
leaped, pooh poohed I ham ill prepared

to accept, roistering, rollicking,
rueing this Frankenstein scarred
complex deplorable edifice able,
ready, and willing to be tarred
rather than evince flabbiness,
gruesome homeliness, instance

when no objection would arise
to live out the remaining days of this life
as the world wide web turns, spins, rattles...
and voluntarily sign myself into a stew ward
with (at minimum ), a ghoulish, gnarly,
gummy self activated door

leading to privet hedge row trimmed
topiary resplendent yard
cuz every cotton pickin, friggin,
fingerhut lickin portal iz barred
dated Friday the thirteenth
   with **** face on that card!

Am I kind?
Am I good?
Am I all that you think?
Or am I just a curse
Such an awful little jinx
Chewing up your soul
Leaving you broken links
Rueing the day you choose me
Drawing you to the brinks
Cursing my name under breath
Sighs in anger and defeat
Growing tired of this self-hatred
Sipping on poison-filled sweets
So silence the roaring cries
Of this good person that you seek
As they are nowhere to be found
I am but another selfish freak

If I ever doubt the level of excellence
then me and myself would not be I

born and bred to forge and smelt adversity
not for adversity to forge me

my title removes me from common fields
where the serfs dig and sow seeds

they toil to harvest hand to empty mouths
rueing their lot in reflection of my golden sheen

cry cry freedom to your noisy shamans in red rags
go lay with your mothers who abides your stunted hoes

your acrid incantations removes no bark from the oak
in its shade you can wash your rags and hide your nakedness

some were made to run with tigers
some are born to be led and told how to be and what to do

Can't you see how privileged it is
to be privileged enough
to warrant such attention and devotion
not cursed with anonymity
the nondescript who goes by unnoticed
or the Joe Bloggs
who are a thousand for a penny
the lames in lame Alley rueing  today and tomorrows
the shamed and the cowards hiding away
petrified of the light and exposure
the criminals and evildoers
dying in fear always looking over troubled shoulders
or those inadequates' forever belligerent when not defensive
Can't you see how privileged it is
to be privileged enough to carry a title and legacy
for even if there is a cost to pay
it is known that street beggars also incur costs
the lights shines into everywhere an everything
but nothing to hide is nothing to fear
persecution and humiliation is nothing new
Our Lord wore a crown of thorns
and His tender loving palms wore stigmata
he did nothing to deserve
but in His Gracious Glory
He said
"Blessed are they who are persecuted
for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
With privilege comes great responsibilities
I have been responsible all my life
I am both my Fathers' son
can you say the same about yourselves.........

Fearing
that day
when the
music stops
My steps
remeasure
my soul
takes stock

Rueing
that moment
when time
is gone
My tea
resweetens
all words
— in song

(The New Room: December, 2024)