Aching, breaking
20,000 leagues beneath the sea, you now find yourself shaking.
And the pain, it is buried so very deep
You think you could glimpse the opening to Hades.
So why not stop to ponder what became of all that childhood wonder
And before you finally go under, recall the manifold wonders
That the child within you glimpsed with each unique unfolding day –
It was knocked from you, shaken out of you:
The hard ruler thwacked upon the desk; the calloused hand that cuffed your head … all of it inevitably led
To
A late card
A lanyard
A back yard
… A graveyard
But it doesn’t have to be this way my sleeping brave
That child who dreamt of wonders never truly went away
He’s been sat in extended detention staring out upon the rain all these blasted, wasted days
Smiling defiantly, waiting patiently for this, the day that you inevitably awake again
-So awake again
And acknowledge the dull convention that held your child in suspended animation
All these very many years
-recall the tailored hopes and fears that steered you upon this path of aspiration
All that vile accumulation of stifling convention
Now let those dimly-lit and narrow days just simply wilt and fall away

Lay down your daily paper and incline your face up towards the sun
And allow the child to mingle with the man you have become.
Be a child once more my son
And you may rise with the grace of a brace of golden angels once again.

Spiralling; entwining; in the endless space between the margins.
Dipping and swooping, joyously, carelessly loop-the-looping
Through skies and heavens never ending
You feel the glory of your golden child for evermore ascending

If putsch comes to shove,
aye ain't no doggone fraidy cat
nor chicken little
fearing coup d'état,
yours truly simply
risk averse, and more exact,
he stays sequestered
within these four walls,
cuz tis safest inside this flat
always... mein kampf,

I remember when fertilization begat
after nine months in utero...
ah dat womb dar full habitat
i.e. ****** cradled humanity, whereat
teeming bajillions primates
peopling planet Earth
couples made lovey dovey after spat
(which species among
other flotsam and jetsam),

got shot out (think) analogous
muzzle loaded gat
excellent marksman aimed
then squirted packed heat hot
as summer temperature
gets within Gujarat
recorded courtesy, thee
oldest functioning thermostat,
albeit microcosmic primordial vat
testy sea men don

(May comb hairy
gah great again) conical hat.
I surmise proto humans
especially storied hall
(conjured in Peer Gynt
by Edvard Grieg
of mountain king)
trumpeted, tooted thwacked,
and announced presence
courtesy posterior primal mating call,

which vibrant cheekiness heard all
around the mulberry bush to Gaul
hmm... maybe e'en hot air
inspired Marc Chagall,
while sitting atop porcelain throne,
nonetheless scandalous
****** blasts methinks help explain fall
of Rome, whereby noxious
generated silent but deadly nauseating
noisome pall mall

felled friend and foe alike
analogous on minuscule
scale to Chernobyl
level 7 nuclear accident
also linkedin, when
Polar Vortex doth stall

across avast swath planet Earth
forcing quick thinkers to marshall,
what (mathers) matters
such as... antique pinball
machines worth a mint,
a ***** to install.

I’m on the right road of the wrong path
Should be first but I am dead last
Heading true north but I’m south bound
Trying to swim, more like trying to drown

Look I am just trying to move forward in my life. Put some distance in my rearview and grow in my life. Catch a rhythm leading up and explore in this life. Soaring over shooting stars and ****** success with the rest of my life.

Take a step forward but I am yanked back
Spun around and Ka thwacked
Speaking truths but fed lies
Watch the vision forward, wither and die

Play the game but I cannot compete. Each new rule leads me to defeat. Picked only to be released. Now I am behind again, dealing with a handicap so massive it’s missive. Rolling die when I should be spinning the wheel. Kinging when I should be checking. Moving pieces that don’t belong.

So, I try again to play the game
Looking fly but really lame
New tactics but the results stay the same
Stay out of trouble but get the blame

All and all I see the end. The way out is to make my way out. No feints or fake outs. Just a simple plan laid out. No exaggerated, grandiose, exuberated exit. Just a normal walk-out.

after pros and cons discussed
     with six grade speech pathologist, she weighed
in favor, to launch stealth offensive
     spring time surprise raid,

which faux analogous military show of force,
     no picnic nor hit parade
though undeniably,
     unequivocally, and unquestionably

     earned the unflagging necessary
     parental consent okayed,
whose unconditional love for welfare
     of this sundered son obvious

     nasal twang genetic mutation made
constituting said congenital defect
     identified as sub
     mucous cleft palate, which laid
waste thine boyhood psyche 

     teased, thwacked, and 
     tormented, skewered, and frayed,
which exacerbated introverted 
     strongly dominant behavioral trait, 
     thus hermetically sealed convenient 
     modus operandi spelled E+V+A+D+E

the madding crowd at all costs,
     (hence quickly felt lured 
     to an emotional brink)
thus from the fountain of death, 

     I wanted to drink
versus putting up my measly 
     (not so hazardous) dukes 
     knocking out cold, every rat fink

though this scaredy pants chose passivity 
     from classmates, a tacit ticket to yawl
to deliver sucker punches 
     (as iz the wont of mean kids), 

     and evoking evoking a 
     not so shabby (nee convincing) 
     impression of a stone wall
albeit rather small

since diminutive slight build another up pall
ling (albeit) physical characteristic suffering offal
bouts of bullying, and sought refuge 
     imagining dragons 
     to beat up punks and maul

every grimacing, leering, questing
monster lurking to brandish brass knuckles 
    upon turning down this, that, 
     or another dimly lit hall 

in part, cuz zam ma pinched 
     onrush of air thru my button nose, a drawl
dangling as perfect prime call
ling card, when only within pendulum 
     swinging in pit of tummy 
     did a horrendous brawl
ensue, yet this haint all

aye wanna write, originally to explain savior 
     in the guise of speech pathologist's aid
introduced tummy upon entering sixth grade
whose intervention laid  

precedent to exercise muscles 
     along inner neck, and played
what appeared as senseless games, 
     plus navigating, regulating, 

     and vocalizing wade
ding thru one book after another 
     while tape recorder thru brickbats un afraid.

an ambivalent flashback now occurs 
     upon forcing mine ears to hear voice
of yours truly, and tis not arrogance, 
     haughtiness, nor orneriness, but aye rejoice 
perfecting good riddance to figurative 
     thorn in muss hide by choice.