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Samuel Lombardo Oct 2014
A thought in process...
Imagery that tells a story....
I can see
the Prestigious School of Gills:
The Conservatory of Velvet & Blues.
In the process...
The conservatory will need to
hire the Ground sharks
to make sure there
are no shellfish or
Crappie fish laying around.
Once all the Crap is
swallowed up,
we can hire Dolphins so they
can share in their porpoise.
Even in the deep,
we have trouble with
Blackchin.  We should consider
hiring Giant Wels to calm
the Blackchin.  if that does not
work, we will get the Bigmouth Buffalo
to calm all the Bitterling.
I do need to get around-
I should Perch a Black Neon Tetra
...and find some Pumkinseeds.
I will need to hire an
Octopus to get the building
done sooner.
In one hand- I will use a Hammerhead.
In another hand- he should use a Sawfish.
I will need two arms to scratch
the Rough Scad from the floor.
Two more arms should
use Smelt-whiting on the walls.
We need Muscles to do the
heavy lifting.
Finally, the Octopus will need two
arms to lay the Velvet.
EEL!!! I have noticed Roaches!
I noticed the Roughy patches.
Hey look!!! We do not need to
worry about electric-
we will just use electric eels.
To right- I will place the lampfish.
Do not worry about the
evil of the Ghouls & Devil Ray-
I will be sure to Discus
with Alfonsino all
the trouble with the
Blue-eye, Bullhead, ***** shark.
We will have a Whale of a time,
omitting the Suckers & Swallowers
from the Red Velvetfish.
I need to cool
things off with icefish.
And to keep the roofs from
leaking, hire the seals.
Our Seahawk Security will
be watching for the White Shark.
If you see them please,
send out the Yellow Jacks
and I will use the River Loach
as backup for there is plenty of
fish in the sea.
#Building #Where #Are #You #Ateam #Reality
You let me down.
It was your wish
A great longing from deep within. A fantacy an idea your idea, but in its execution you let me down.

I was silent just enjoying my grand thoughts. Some nice n other little ***** and like a bombshell you said it.
You let me down

Just out of the blues, you dropped it like an eighteen ton scad.
Just like that you said, you no longer require it. And put it that , I couldn't finance it. You truly put me down.

You belittled my effort, made me feel in worthy. You made me gwarky and a little blob.
Almost felt like a wart on the beautiful face of you, you truly let me down.
Let the shaver glory in reduction and let the farmer glory in growth. All are seasons and reasons in life.
Feeling bad
Introduction: once again I incorporate
my trademark penchant
to fabricate fictitiously
portions of the following poetic endeavor
can you care to
discern fact from fiction?

Attempts at lifelong friendships and holy matrimony...

Shot thru with figuratively cankerous nub,
cuz yours truly did flub
even though as a scouting cub
how yours truly - alias Phil Anderer
committed faux paw unlike me papa bear,
he set admirable example
sidestepping and skirting carnal temptation,
(****** one... two...; ****** one... two...)
squelching roaring testosterone
against succumbing, rutting, quieting
call of the wild desire meaning
inevitably envisioning seducing,
mounting, kissing, caressing...
receptive quite pleasing gals,
nonetheless merely fending off such
verboten enticement left him panting.

Think surrendering to playful kibitizing
as kickstarter to hanky panky;
said violation against matrimonial covenant,
thwarting potential indiscretion subsequently
linkedin with Capital one aplomb.

I never bore witness
seeing me dada caught
in sexually compromised contretemps
to any aforementioned high fidelity hubbub,
yet his sole male offspring (me)
begat courtesy Harriet and Boyce,
(but one minor tidbit to share,
neither father nor mother physically alive
they long since passed away
to Elysian Fields)
found their one and only son - nada faithful
blithely nixing pledged troth,
which rent asunder filial bond

between self and precious progeny
plus provoked wrathful ire
and eventually forgiving soul of thee missus,
nevertheless her heartfelt
initial fury at discovery
of absent husband from Bryn Mawr quarters
didst activate pulse
to throb considerably faster
and louder than usual subdued lub dub
and even at present
when daring to discuss
mine moonlighting one night tryst
as Casanova wannabe, which
hard drive of mine generated message
Abort, Retry, Fail?

Though ***** never freed
flagellated empowered gamete sea men
despite libido being shifted to high gear;
****** ******* never consummated,
nor ****** ******* bliss experienced
much less allowed, enabled and provided
ditto the recipient of mine adulterous affections.
Far fetched fanciful whim
(hard to believe) fallacy
complicity, excitedly, and willfully
following imaginative thought,
though following whim never expressed,
but how rousing, spellbinding,
tantalizing the thought of foreplay
exciting, fondling, goading
receptive flirtatious paramour,
an alluring mistress of color
to attempt and strategize my abduction
as random human trafficked heist
held prisoner until an undisclosed
sum of ransom money
delivered to the captors.

The wife ofttimes references taboo subject
regarding aborted love affair
(alluding to side piece as underhanded gibe)
upon being probed, questioned, and raked
over figurative coals with intimate queries.

These mild interrogations
trigger a sudden uptick
in voluminous silence;
tick tock transpires soundlessness
spikes male level lent rub,
between one once randy husband
and grateful wife; she exhibited forgiveness;
how virtuous ma lady accepting spouse,
which whole frisky fiasco
(on a Freaky Friday)
fostered felicitous flagrante delicto
induced reciprocal black barbs upon psyches
their paternal parent inflicted.

Although antics unbecoming
monogamous kickstarted, declared, and avowed
essentially compromising legally binding union
long since ceased
(matter of fact yesterday April 21st, 2022
me and the missus
went shopping at BJ's. Whole Club
200-C Mill Rd, Oaks, PA 19456),
the psychological fallout
still indelibly etched.

Tumultuous emotions roiled
driving past long gone
home of me childhood
324 Level Road no longer exists,
yet chuckful of memories
flooded mine consciousness
flashback triggered gamut
of existential trials and tribulations.

As a youngster behavior of yours truly
(i.e. mine) never purportedly "bad"
rather reserved, I gave no indication
then how such a cute beastie boy
when becoming acculturated
within loving family provenance
versus disaster later married life evinced
displayed, exhibited, and flaunted
characteristics antithetical, diabolical,
heretical, and piratical
(so much for hyperbole)
par excellence of an exemplary cad,
a most definite poor example

and embarrassment of one
good for nothing dad
to two adorable daughters,
who deserved better egad
myself as basket of deplorable
father figure in retrospect me not glad
carrying on illicit affair
trying to compensate
while cultivating the row
(elle) regarding husbandry
during and post pubescence
never going out on date,
nor kissing an attractive lass,

when poet of Perkiomen Valley
scores of years ago
besotted with anguish
extremely, governed as introvertedly,
and painfully shy lad,
(he knew nothing about
powder milk biscuits)
and more or less describes himself
during his adolescence as a "wallflower"
self deprivation concerning experiencing
life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness
found aging logophile mad
at himself missing out

on typical social/interpersonal casual forays
donned in fashionable dungarees and plaid
fast forward to mein kampf as unhappily wed
whereby hours spent
(rather wasted) posting
and answering personal classifieds
for female assignations
numbering well into bajillions
in other words quite a scad
only countless lunar months ex post facto
did sincere regret prevail
mooch more'n a tad;
dalliances involving barenaked ladies
costing inxs of any legal tender ***.
I (a lapsed milquetoast) experienced
a head splitting hellacious hangover.

I tried to be part of Cool And Gang by being "bad"
to the thoroughly good bone, er...
which trend followed me till man hood,
whereby this bloke still a cad
plus the most
embarrassing older hippy dad
where a shaved pierced pate egad
seems to be the latest fad
boot this nonestablishmentarian
feels more content with himself and glad
though as a precocious

whipper snapper of young lad
did act like "Curious George",
which found me late mum
and then octogenarian
widower father quite mad,
especially when breaking
into the liquor cabinet in me ***** pad
and nearly escaped by a scad
dad dull when the hide o me buttocks
whacked more'n a tad.

Though in a ******* party
rock n rolling crowd,
I (a kung foo fighter
beastie boy) felt alone
yea, as this chap looks back
on them daredevil days
(with behaviour bad to the bone
as iterated above),
and dealt with pounding in ma head
that caused me to groan
which mental sounds

of jack hammers
found this current teetotaler to moan
like the ghost of Marley or a whaler, whereby
even whisper down the alley
or over the phone
also affected me skin tone
to become altered
into an unstoppable
red bullish twilight zone
tortured courtesy MALEVOLENT MENTAL Maelstroms -
doggone hounded me while in a drunken stupor

videlicet - I taste a liquor never brewed (214)
courtesy Emily Dickinson
1830 –
1886
I taste a liquor never brewed –
From Tankards scooped in Pearl –
Not all the Frankfort Berries
Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of air – am I –
And Debauchee of Dew –
Reeling – thro' endless summer days –
From inns of molten Blue –
When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door –
When Butterflies – renounce their "drams" –
I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats –
And Saints – to windows run –
To see the little Tippler
Leaning against the – Sun!

Fiendish and gruesome
phantasmagoric egomaniacal denizens
dwelt deep inside
subterranean uber vault
performed an evil contra dance
haunted psychic landscape
with imaginary (yet realistic)
gargoyle visitations that cast a macabre trance
nocturnal unconscious invaders of the lost Ark
cavorted and gallivanted
disturbed quiescent sleep
with devilish and sinister prance.

Apparitions crept stealthily
into peaceful slumber receptacle
repository, whence illusory landscape of dreams
took place to rejuvenate
exhausted body, mind and spirit triage
rented asunder blissful sleep with a startled fright
cold sweat drenched
nighttime garments and bedding
teeth chattered uncontrollably
heart pounded loudly inside chest
nightmarish phantoms
wrought an awful ghoulish sight.

Mushroom cloud anniversary
triggered frenzied gargantuan hallucination
seventy nine plus years ago today
inauguration into atomic age took place
one country after another sought
to acquire demonic and destruction devices
to maintain self-preservation
in this surreal atomic weapons race
impossible mission to escape the dark threat
that looms and threatens life on earth
one launched missile
spells extermination across entire global space.

No escape from humankind military machines
munitions march mean madness
death by a thousand cuts
flesh deboned courtesy knife
and guaranteed demise to all life
**** sapiens violent history
of bias, intolerance and/or prejudice
characterizes vicious warfare
and chronic species strife
legacy for future,
(and perhaps alien) archeologists,
who will sift thru civilization
debris with delicate as birthing a newborn
with assistance by midwife.

Artifacts buried in a heap
of pulverized and radioactive ash
civilization monuments and hedonistic symbols
gone in a blinding brilliant flash
irksome flotsam and jetsam
spewed into outer space
alien nations light years distant
collect miniscule bits and pieces
offer object lesson as extinction
for beings that become excessively brash.

As a way to bury wounded knees,
free guilt sans
being psychologically trapped,
and wrath of my strict parents,
I imagined awaiting an eternity
for my modified sentence
against being secular humanist
individualist, minimalist, nihilist...,

no way to dodge
fiat decreeing penal solitude
for this rambling future man,
who felt unready to kick the can
on account of violating ban
against abominable illegal mandate
with no way to commute death sentence
for the simple act of voicing opinion

against existence of heavenly gate,
nor hellish underworld
despite religious ****** decreeing penance
spurious pedagogical poetic rant
not the ravings of some half mad lunatic
carefully plotted recitation that springs
from combined teachings of Kant
and jolly old Saint Nick

charges ******* up
per this average don
purportedly flagrantly
decrying and blaspheming
Judeo-Christian paradigm
proselytizing devout believers
with disenchantment blind faith no more
equated with hill of beans upon,

which dogma erected epitomized
by complex edifices via grime
sweat and tears from slave labor,
where usurpation of freedom won
until outspoken spokespersons
risked life and limb
to invalidate the existence
of supreme deity who created life

whether for extra credit
or perhaps on a whim
Adam from whose rib cage
without anesthesia but razor sharp knife
sported Eve with a physique
quite pleasing and trim,
but rather than get lost
in the garden of Eden myth

final seconds of existence tick away
without intent to recant statements
solely acceptable to B'nai B'rith
prompting last words of mine as oy vey
with no regrets - deeming heart
of religion flimsy as pith
thing in the wind or house of cards
vulnerable to blow away.

Though ma mum deceased nineteen and a half plus years ago, and thine papa inching closer toward the inescapable clutch of the grim reaper (when these words typed – he long since passed October 7th, 2020), I revel to be a conscious individual despite the torturous road from those perilous days of yore er rather mine earlier formative pages when the strong armed lance of ignorance jabbed me with toad dull ambivalence evolving from the fusion of two cells after froggy went a courtin.

HANDMADE FROM (the genes of) BOYCE AND HARRIET HARRIS -
(free versatile poetry my atypical mode (modus operandi) at describing, introducing, and decoding myself).

How apropos and divine to stumble (merely by happenstance) across a chance to claim my (virtual) fifteen minute fragments of fame just in the click and nick of time.

Although gainfully unemployed (do to a series of unfortunate events that now finds me receiving social security disability), I can still vividly visualize utter despair and vouchsafe to acquire the requisite trappings emblematic of psychic misfortune.

Indelible, permanent and unfading abysmal damaging domestic dynamics got etched deep upon the memory of this erstwhile individual.

The general gist in the form of quick brush strokes (namely written) of psychologically traumatizing recollection now follows.

I can attest to malevolent mean-spirited objections by my father (and late mother) in regard to my grossly unacceptable attire, deportment and work ethic.

Nonetheless, a sense of righteous vindictiveness manifested itself thru attendant Pyrrhic victories.

Back in those days I (a married grown adult male and considerably past the age of rebelling against authoritarianism - and also their one and only not so prodigal son) poorly wore the mantle and staff of supposed maturity.

Lack of compliance and obeisance with regulations and rules of the Harris household (mainly thru being in constant denial to conform, maintaining emotional detachment and estrangement and evincing little or no concern for other family members) brewed, festered and lied dormant during prepubescence.

The pressure and tension between and betwixt genetic kinfolk (so palpable one could sense an indomitable barrier), would rank as successfully dysfunctional way before such nom de guerre became in vogue.

Fury and wrath became markedly and noticeably pronounced once exiting the storied four walls of high school.

The venomous barrage and fusillade spewed forth from off parental tongues at an exponential rate and on a par to feeling the stinging cudgel of a horsewhip.

Out of fear and timidity, I consequently and silently absorbed cruel treatment.

Neither the eldest nor youngest sibling bore witness against the tender spirit of their only brother.

A façade as of a hardened (statue) conveniently adopted.

This embodiment poorly served to fend off the onslaught of incessant anger.

This defense mechanism (identified as passive aggressive by mom) offered miniscule protection as I mentally dodged lobbed insults and affected defiance (in league like poisoned blackened bards and daggers hurled) of said threats and ultimatums.

No matter these bitter pills of blaring character assassination (mine), denunciations, fulminations, incriminations, intimidations, vociferous vocalizations (by said parents), I stood the shifting sands characterizing my ground at playing the deaf mute, which repression and internalization of emotional maelstrom only caused self contamination and manifestation of humiliation.

They (dad and mom) became further angered and inflamed per my total oblivious stance.

This reaction added insult to injury.

Deliverance per tough love lessons amplified to the tune of additional feats at becoming excoriated, ranted and raved against this, that and the other of my habits and nonchalant indifference to pursue work.

Those involuntary, unrehearsed and vicious family chats happened to be replete with heavily exploding and uncorked anger.

That (of course) would be a considerable understatement.

Dad (the de facto, elected and nominal spokesperson for unpleasant chest thumping exclamations - which conveniently took place no earlier than the stroke of midnight - emphatically swore (adrip with dramatic livid rage - like rabid beast) all manner of vulgarity and demanded from this insolent appearing male offspring immediate compliance.

Defiance and fatigue offered him that predictable and usual blank stare upon hearing the kind and lenient sentence to pack bags and GET OUT!

With the dreaded approach of dire and sealed fate (played out in this overactive imagination of mine with dad and mom fiendishly and grotesquely expunging themselves of any last vestige personal belonging), I most anxiously bided my time.

Those next couple weeks forced self-evaluation of Atheism, while I hunkered down in my bedroom.

The recurrent consideration of relinquishing nonestablishmentarian paradigm in favor and lieu with God, miracles and salvation seemed to clash with being this liberal thinker.

As indicated, the tempest and tirade quickly got turned back upon those who so masterfully tormented this second born, whose steadfast stoicism and subservience to a higher power perchance brought a temporary respite.

That hollow deadline, (which happened to be just one of many similar sputtering swearing valuations of love) blithely came and went without incident - no matter expletive filled intense oath to remove self from premises at 324 Level Road) continued to keep pulsating to remain an occupant with kinfolk.

What caused especial ire and wrath to fester (per this apparent ambivalence, indifference and nonchalance for me to take any job - even shoveling **** - particularly within the emotional bedrock and firmament of deceased mother) constituted remembrance and vivid reminder of her father.

My maternal grandfather (Morris - Moshe - Kuritsky) supposedly never paid much heed to regular and steady employment (to support his four children and wife) despite his skill as a harried styled swift tailor.

Hence my mother (Harriet) grew up and lived in utter destitution and poverty.

Mother subsequently reacted with ferocious vindictiveness upon witnessing a near magic transformation of near identical behavior in Matthew - the single heir to the family name.

I avoid alcohol
yet still have a ball
when the bell of inquisitiveness doth call
this mindful male toward productive pursuits
rather than fall
prey to temptations of vice only deliver gall
down the unmarked hall
of future time,
as likened to evade the maul
from some ferocious beast
or an urgent plight to retch
ideally within a toilet stall
perhaps faded splattered by stains on the wall
of other anonymous imbibers - good day y'all.
danky Jun 25
like a frog springs atop  a lily pad,
her enthusiastic essence was as scad.
like an infant sprawls into a deep sleep,
her appearance was an embodiment of babysheep.

like a coordinated kitchen fork blends with the spoon
we both accumulated as the exquisite winter's moon.

on a decadent day,when we will reunite,
she would still guffaw at my scrappy jokes
the void will transform into light
when your gaiety will crash the plight.

— The End —