The Moon glows bright
in darkened night
it is only a ***** mirror
that The Sun uses
trying to brighten our night
like it does our day
and we give the Moon all the credit
for what the Sun does
even though it only shines full
one night
and we curse the whimsical clouds
that block it from us now and then
that we have stared at so vividly
in the day
that inspire us so greatly in our art
and still we feel passion
while basking in the glow of the Moon
with it's many changing faces
while the Sun shatters our nocturnal fantasies
with it's never fading smile
never expressing it's inner glow.

my date with thc,
serendipitous and sublime,
like the first time
curious george killed
the black persian *****...

got me sky-hiking
in a cloud of delusion
and creativity,
climbing ladders of abstraction
for nine mystic rungs

from mundane muse,
regrettable
like drunk ***
with an octogenarian

to lucid peaks of eccentricity,
a vaunted house built by
jimi and john,
long gone,
but resurrected
this date

we split a dime
into 3 nickels
and rolled every penny
into a top-5 billboard joint

we sprayed the submarine
purple
with haze
then made the wind cry
mary
as we gazed at two
giraffes making babies
on the serengeti,
laughing hysterically
like schoolgirls watching
riding miss daisy

then the cbd kicked in
and I toodle-ooed
my two
ungratefully dead hippy
stoneheads

and crashed from
the ninth rung of
the last ladder
onto grandma's bed,

clutching the first lines of
my date with thc,
serendipitous
and
sublime...

~ P (#Pablo#hcgktbpp)

(8/12/2013)

Moodle foodle woodle,
Toodle roodle poodle,
Noodle boodle hoodle,
Loodle yoodle zoodle.

1 A little girl of eight
Was leaning on the gate,
Pondering the miracle of birth.
From her parents’ attitude
She thought it might be something rude
And was neither cause for sorrow nor for mirth.

2 By chance along the road
A little lady strode,
Hurrying from the vicar's after tea.
The girl thought, There’s Miss Price,
She is wise and nice,
She will solve my mystery for me.

3 Miss Price approached the gate,
The little girl in wait
Called out, Hallo, a lovely evening, too.
If you can spare the time
There's a problem on my mind,
A question I would like to ask of you.

4 The lady, coming near,
Said, Yes, of course, my dear,
I'll surely try to put your mind at rest.
Although I'm not a sage,
With the wisdom of my age,
You can rest assured I'll do my best.

5 I’ve a brother now, you see,
He was born at five oh three,
He's upstairs in the bedroom now with Mum.
And now I’m full of doubt,
I've tried but can't find out—
Please tell me, miss, from where do babies come?

6 Miss Price, a little shocked,
Thought she was being mocked.
Good Lord, she thought, what can I tell this child?
A spinster all her life—
No experience as a wife
This subject always made her feel defiled.

7 Miss Price looked all about
Seeking a way out;
Anything to stop this sinful talk.
Then, clutching at a straw,
With her dim old eyes she saw
The poor bedraggled, drunk and gasping stork.

8 She pointed at the roof
And in a tone aloof
Said, There is how your brother came to you.
I’m surprised you haven't heard
That all babies come by bird,
And now I must be off, so toodle-oo.

The little girl turned and looked up at the stork.

And the stork, to his eternal credit, winked.

It looks blinkin' high,
I laughed
well
she was talking of the sky,
as big as a giant
she said,

Think then
said I,
how big is the bed
if the giant's as big as the sky?

Oh, easy,
the bed's slightly smaller than
the giant who's taller by far
than the giants I've met
even those
at the giants bazaar,
so the sky must be huge,
as big as a giant,
she said.
and
that's by far
the strangest but
true tale.

Breitabart was permitted entry of course, you know
'Expel All Muslims' Breitbart, & CNN NYT, & LAT were all
held back by some panting freshly-minted Republican staffer & had
to wait all shocked & chagrined at the closed door as one blank dead
eyed maniacally grinning young newly promoted Lieutenant Miller and
one bull-heavy Bannon strutted like obscene vulture marionettes in their favourite special-wear searingly shiny knee-high Wehrmacht boots which had just been licked mirror clean & furiously polished with their very sweat by a heaving gaggle of simpering craven Republican lackeys who had come comically dancing & prancing when summoned from the floor of the so-called People's House with a "yes sir, no sir ... what can I do next sir" to grease the skids on the Fascist Express with the their very blood & the tears of the innocents gathered so fresh that very dawn with no stops till the sun rises on your New World.
.... oh yes indeed.

It's Valentines and here's a gift,

To show that I love you,

I'm leaving and I won't be back,

Goodbye and toodle-ooo

How many people have to die for your "personal growth?"
For your "well being," or your "revelation?"
You accepted the burdens when you swore your oath;
the pledge, the vow, of your own creation.
A beautiful tornado that wipes the ground clean,
destroys all stable structures in it's path.
A breathtaking painting depicting a deadly scene,
this is unrequited dedication's true wrath.

Back and forth, side to side,
this is a gorgeous question mark.
South and North, turning tide,
this is the light that leads to the dark.

How many people have to die for your "personal growth?"
For your "Eureka!" For your "I got it!"
A question and an answer; you are missing both,
the obvious is present, but you've always fought it.
A gentle hurricane that cracks the Earth,
that shakes wildly and tears the skin.
A stock that's crashing with impeccable worth,
this is unrequited dedication's identical twin.

Back and forth, up and down,
this is a gorgeous question mark.
South and North, sky and ground,
this is the light that leads to the dark.

So this is what it's all about,
"ego," and "control?"
Constant rain, but daily drought,
falling while on a roll.
Pockets are closely holding your hands,
but the strangling does succeed.
Lungs of water, body buried in sand,
it absorbs all my heart does bleed.
I'm one more body to the pile that's left,
no one shakes their head or ever looks behind.
Thoughtlessly giving and innocent theft,
this is unrequited dedication's version of kind.

Here we all fly separate, under a sky of blue,
I would say goodbye but I'll cave to "toodle-*******-oo."

why all the banality with rhyme
for a mere cushion fight?
me too! me too! i too a teenage
                          prima donna
                              having a stab at it!
leopard skin prints on pyjamas...
        yuck... wait for boxing day...
shop till you drop bah bah baby...
              and that toddler of yours
will be ready as a Madame Tussauds
mannequin replica - the sound
ginger without grammatical rubric
said via gritted teeth - gee 'n' gherkin!
and no, it's not a Nabokov fancy...
had one though with a gay Canadian
drinking wine, eating cheese and baguette
at sunset by the Eiffel toodle-loo...
                                                   ­       nice... tulips
                                                    on your grave;
                              a very Dutch funeral -
                 halfway submerged given the Himalayas.

I really need a time machine.
No matter if we emerge from this, miraculously intact,
If someone invents one in my lifetime,
I'll be on that ******* before you can say
Back to the future, part 2.
Toodle-oo.

Pip  Pip

Softer than the dumplings made in my mum's stew
The river widens and you let letters start to rule
Metal sticks with oranges stuck through make a barbeque
My turtle named windy woo wearing wellington boots just like you
Socks and underpants floating past with a man in a canoe it's all brand new
We are all living in a zoo and the keeper says" you've not flung enough poo" what am I to do, make more poo
A signal heard today from Alien beings and they say " how do you do " I say mustard custard in my shoe pip pip toodle ooh

Ha!

Human (rat) race doomed!

Foregone conclusion hashtagged,
linkedin, predicated, et cetera, cuz
overactive derrière of yours truly
(no names mentioned, nor fickle
finger of fate pointed), and writer
of these words and one among many
riders (he adores) on the storm –
referring to brewing, looming, and
quaking potentially severe economic
fallout shattering The "debt ceiling"
or "debt limit"recommends ye dear
unknown (anonymous) readers bid
thee toodle loo  to civilization
and its discontents.

So much for hyperbole!
    
How axiomatic, ironic, quixotic, zoologic
that thee unavoidable ****** urge occurred
while in the midst of writing about that
vitally important ****** function, which
for any other Tom, **** or Harry would
be safer endeavor at least within their home.

That margin of err rear harmlessly doth
NOT exist within the rented domicile
of this twenty six plus years a married
(lighthearted) middle aged man.

What requisite non-forceful,
essential, dutiful call visiting
the ***** to purge the body electric
of supposed waste matter
(quite efficient machine ****
Sapiens anatomy), regarding
said expelling solid, loose, liquid...
thru **** ought to rank as
minimally risky private business.

Imagine matter of fact saunter
to the loo fraught with Uriah heaps
of danger that could imperil
the very existence of (in this case)
myself, and the rest of humanity.

Upon attempting to amble
very short distance, (perhaps
half a dozen paces), an
immediately deleterious,
hellaciously luminous, and
perilously serious threat
(unsurpassed even by hooliganism  
signature destruction forever
enshrining Gothic or Vandals –
if such peoples lived today and
occupied this apartment unit),
loomed as a far more impossibly
harrowing mission any combination
of maximum strength (Excedrin
would be superfluous) supposed
major natural disasters all rolled
into one frightful maelstrom.

Oft times the powerful need
to relief thyself disallows any
preparation H(abiliments), thus I
am forced to make a quick dash
to the toilet, BUT between
the cozy comfort of this easy
chair and the durable material
designed to suction even the
baddest, biggest, boldest BM
belies a trail and mountain
far more of wicked bewitched
crossing then say the now defunct
Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant.

Though this comparison may seem
like an exaggeration, the higgledy
piggledy hewn heap of fetid foul
fermenting faecal matter poses
dangerous, death defying diabolical
(DO NOT ENTER) dump.

No other option existed for me
to eradicate, expel, exorcise, et
cetera potential ***** matter except
to strike out toward barrier reef
of noxious, odoriferous, pestilential,
queasily revolting sky high (declared
SuperFund Site) to  enjoy simple
pleasure, whereby Gluteus Maximus
dispenses with human toxins.

The urge to let loose a stool sample
overrides any time to pen loving
note to surviving family members,
which (two darling grown daughters
seem like foreigners (or survivors
on a desert island) as each precious
Punim pursues autonomy countless
miles, whereby the eldest then
a Junior at The University of Pennsylvania,
and the youngest offspring plane
and simple sailed about seven
years ago to become
seasoned student abroad.

Though a tenant at this subsidized
(and quite agreeable accommodations
nestled within Perkiomen Valley,
Pennsylvania), no exaggeration necessary
to describe daily cataclysm perchance
spelling doom and downfall of this
dry husband and loving father to deux
progeny, who would hate to leave said
special offspring behind under
the sheltering sky.

Thus every onset to traipse
so few feet to flush out
thine flotsam and jetsam,
(when stream of ***** sprays
like a hose) to pay obeisance
and homage to modern
plumbing, the flash of mine
lxiv years zips thru me
memory, particularly when
carefully, gingerly
lumbering ridiculously slow
(lest mishap finds ambulance
siren wailing destiny of this chap
(most likely pronounced
dead on arrival), whereby tell tale
sigh of turgid tummy
would automatically inform doctors
that obstruction preventing quintessential
rear supply tubby
undisputed venal wickedness.

Tis at  unstoppable twitches
to defecate, (which sharp
saber rattling ****** spasms)
denote common urgent irrepressible
need arising within bowels),
when mental gallows humorous arises.

Such an embarrassing ending
(post eerie er) demise re: conclusion
to my rather ordinary life – (visa vis
being constipated, deprived
or hindered freeing offal,
would put to shame “windbag”
i.e. google as  proof positive
of blocked means to eliminate waste).

Also in tandem (though very
slightly tangential to above
distressful horrible likely presentiment,
this xMan bemoans being
swept off my yam bic pent
tam meter feet (literally)
by gigantic hands of she
(thee divine Gaia, who now
scatters defecated detritus
damning ability to access
commode constitutes reflection
on remaining Norwegian
Bachelor farmer from Lake Woebegone.

How trajectory of one measly
mortal primate webbed
whirled wide eyed schleps
along boulevard of broken dreams
(he may as well live planets,
galaxies or universes apart
worlds) ever shared
an intersecting vector
with another continues
to confound this crossword puzzler.

Again that sneaky sobriquet
irony doth mettle with
steely goatherd drivers
goes Pasteur ****, where gin
till lit tee lives.

Long story short described below.

Circumstance found this then
quite content solitary
son of the soil invited
to admirable, estimable, inimitable
estate listed as “Glen Elm”
within  National Registry of
owned properties within
Collegeville, Pennsylvania.

Garrison Keillor slated guest of honor.

He possessed je nais se quois
ability to tell tall tales,
whereby audience members
became rapt with seduction,
usurpation, and wide eyed yearning
to lean in so as to hear the suspense,
which increased in magnitude
in direct proportion as
his home spun voice became softer.

Unbeknownst to this
poor country bumpkin, when
he took bathroom break
during impromptu intermission,
a gal in her mid thirties
livingsocial with her parents
within the Mainline
(very wealthy enclave of residents
within southwestern Montgomery
County, Pennsylvania)
agreed to follow Jewish tradition,
asper prearranged marriages.

Though neither of  Semitic peoples,
nor the least bit familiar
with one of the oldest Religions,
thee family, whose youngest daughter
hinted of spinsterhood, their
open minded kindred ideas
generated exception to  
dictum remaining steadfast
to pinpoint “a nice Jewish
Kosher Boy”!

As frequent attendees
at this Leiper Mansion and
storied magnet for literati,
the accidental chance encounter
found thyself and unfamiliar gal
(fate decreed as thy bartered bride)
happened to be awaiting use of water closet.

As tends to be the predilection
of so called fairer gender ***,
this petite and attractive dame
introduced herself, which subsequently
found us becoming more
curious about the other.

The natural order of two
heterosexual individuals
(one male, the other female)
allowed basic instinct of
attraction to engender
fledgling friendship, that quickly
leapfrogged into
a sexually intimate dalliance.

Without any precautions
qua birth control inevitable
outcome of hitting
the figurative bullseye linkedin while
listening to the rhythm method occurred.

This reality determined
tepid reception courtesy
future parents in law to marry gal,
whose youngest daughter's
future child I fathered.

Even from this fairly commonplace
getgo dynamics wildly described
along seismograph of 10.00 earthquake,
one category 5 hurricane,
and an F5 tornado thrown in
for good measure for measure,
these tidbits totally hyperbolic,
thus equal much ado about nothing relative
to the interpersonal juxtaposition
of our quite rapid tête-à-tête,
that continues (to much lesser degree –
analogous to subsiding
storm of the Century 21) to this day.

After surviving approximately
two and a half dozen plus years,
(the marital inflictions
unquestionably more harrowing,
strangulating, and threatening
life and limb) battle scars
(many broken bones begot
by innocuous shuffling to
bathroom) populating neary
every square inch of this
ordinary chap deserves a medal of honor.

Where the winds will take me
that's where I want to be
a breath of fresh air
on my way to who knows where
tastes like adventure to me
take a bite and see
the world is my buffet
so I'll go for seconds
maybe even thirds
and double up on  dessert
as I flirt with
the beauty this world
has to offer
I will author
a few words
in hast
for I have places to go
and people to see
with no time for a biography
or a blog while I'm still at
the buffet acting like a hog
can't get bogged down
with idle chit chat
since I'm on my way to see
this this and that
would you hand me my hat
toodle-lou be seeing you...Kelly McManus

It’s not yet tomorrow, the 8th November. But like a child I’m already celebrating it with anticipation.  I’ve no real emotion, rather a quiet gratitude and awareness of life itself.  My eyes see nature differently, I hear and put together sounds in a newly discovered way.  The whole picture of what and who makes up life has taken on a new significance and hue.

   Happy Birthday To Myself

Happy Birthday To Myself!
My outer self, my inner Self!
The body me, the mind-full me.
The trillion cells
That keep me well.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO IT ALL!

Happy Birthday to the mood
That helps to make me feel good.
To fates that brought me where I am;
The virtues, gifts, the blames I claim.

Happy Birthday to the tricks
I’ve learned to use  at this
My new day’s eighty sixth;
Tricks and tips, clues, hints to share,
(One is ever part aware)

And so I send myself this mail
Literally as I am able.
Satisfied that I’ve not died.
With years that morphed
Into an age where I can sing this song:
Happy Birthday To Myself! 🎶
Toodle-loo and Cheers!  So long!  💕

Happy Birthday To Myself 11.8.2020 Birthday Book; Arlene Nover Corwin