We two kept house, the Past and I,
The Past and I;
I tended while it hovered nigh,
Leaving me never alone.
It was a spectral housekeeping
Where fell no jarring tone,
As strange, as still a housekeeping
As ever has been known.

As daily I went up the stair,
And down the stair,
I did not mind the Bygone there—
The Present once to me;
Its moving meek companionship
I wished might ever be,
There was in that companionship
Something of ecstasy.

It dwelt with me just as it was,
Just as it was
When first its prospects gave me pause
In wayward wanderings,
Before the years had torn old troths
As they tear all sweet things,
Before gaunt griefs had torn old troths
And dulled old rapturings.

And then its form began to fade,
Began to fade,
Its gentle echoes faintlier played
At eves upon my ear
Than when the autumn’s look embrowned
The lonely chambers here,
The autumn’s settling shades embrowned
Nooks that it haunted near.

And so with time my vision less,
Yea, less and less
Makes of that Past my housemistress,
It dwindles in my eye;
It looms a far-off skeleton
And not a comrade nigh,
A fitful far-off skeleton
Dimming as days draw by.

Yellow dust on a bumble
     bee's wing,
Grey lights in a woman's
     asking eyes,
Red ruins in the changing
     sunset embers:
I take you and pile high
     the memories.
Death will break her claws
     on some I keep.

He lay spent,
Beside me,
Under our canopy.....or tent.
I cried and watched the spaces between stars,
Seeing you,
Beautiful,
Coveted flowers of war.
Regret was like a most fearful murrain,
Troths as deadly as poison taking root,
Where it hurts most,
The misery of the brain.
The pity, and beauty, and power of my death,
Lay as a teasing indecision,
An untouched mystery, whispering, almost out of breath.
The firefly light flickered,
If he was awake,
I’d have bet a wish he’d have bickered.
An old shadow appeared on the wall,
As familiar as sleep,
The forbidden memories I keep.
Your shadow, determined to haunt,
Came to our bed,
banishing the warmth.
My tears choked me, blue and unyielding,
You, now a misconceived pain in my heart,      
Stabbed at his neck, with a silver dagger you were wielding.
                                                       ­                                                  -**Firefly

Maneurisms of one I seek so enticingly,
Shy one please,
Show me thine cold chill,
Gusto pills shall you make you jump to virtues karma!!!
Inventorama!!!
Clink your tired ankles where mine do rest,
For does no mean yes in this world they call planet?
Abandonment!!!!
That I don't need,
Just two troths to one sneeze,
In a magazine we shall be posted!

Machinations are many beneathe thy roof,
Plateaus are made as booths, as false prophets speak slick game!!
Magnate untamed...

I want to manifest as ourn own coffee,
Lover not heard,
To match ourn own herbs,
And tea clixings we shall pile,
Manifesto child!!!!

A symphony I want our voices to reach,
Where on thine own beach we shall make love,
The most holiest of timings!!!

For art thou not a hopeless romantic to see the new days dawn?
For I hate watching alone.....

Why, why do so many people die before they ever get old?  Their hearts still beating in their chest, dust instead of blood running through their veins.  No thoughts or dreams in their heads... every movement they make is boring and repetitive, choreographed by the machine, feed by conformity, kept alive only as long as the monsters of money and big business can make a profit.  Living dead things that traded their souls for a comfortable pair of shoes and a cookie cutter life, stamped out and pre-made decisions for just the cost of the fires burning in their hearts.  Everyone so willing feasting on the foods of stupidity, lining up one by one to gorge themselves at troths of ignorance.  Self medicating nations into normalcy, inventing diseases to propagate mass hysteria and distract the idea of ever creating cures for actual illnesses.  Keeping those with gold lined pockets with more and more than they need, making sure they never fall into acts of compassion by feeding their demons of malevolence and greed.  
It's a scary ******* world.
No souls growing old, no hearts staying young... just living dead things.  The gears of the machine grinding loud and strong, quick to find and ***** out any heart still burning with fire and life.  Monsters and beasts walking among the masses, carrying  bone crushing scissors to clip any wings they might find hiding between the cracks and crevices of this ugly world they forced our fathers and mothers to build.  If they find a pair of wings they can't break or bind or crush... they drag that person kicking and screaming and throw them into the teeth of the heart of this vile world.  Slap them on the operating table and surgically transform them into hideous bats of conformity.  Such a scary ugly world to live in... All of it, the whole ****** place is drowning in bat **** crazy, with no Hunter to keep the bats and monsters in check... it's all just out of control.
We have to keep moving and running and hiding, leaving behind bread crumbs of hope for the few living left to find.  Throwing pockets full of seeds of love into the wheels and cogs and sprokets of the machine... trying to get flowers and life to bloom inside to break its gears and bring the whole thing crumbling down... All along the way, searchimg for old souls to grow young with.

By a crackling fire, they stood,
whispering promises,
in a cream-white dress and lace,
a bouquet of flowers nearby.

Gazing into the other’s eyes,
they recited their love troths,
and began their adventure,
with a simple “I do".

“We make midnight an autonomous time of year,
Colored lights glistening off the white frost,
Moonlights drawn by the evening clouds,
Troths offered to complete this mystical custom,

Awaiting that elfin hour anxious gods molding oar,
Each of us edacious for shining of such coruscation,
That of the candelabrum and wines of sorts to enthrall,
Audacious in thinking oblations will sojourn at a moment,

Of what is to come in New Year springtime fashions,
Synthetic faces all around as they stare of what may be,
Exuberance of the antithesis will follow coming year,
That impermanent as all the while serenity suspends,

Struggle with excitement for swaying to and thro,  
Couples embracing as the ending minutes arrive,  
Cessation as we wait for those last minutes to survive,
Leaving this just passed year we will hear nothing seems,

Then the clear crackle of explosions and applause all around,
Hoping to wonder that this New Year will not FROWN”
By Andrew Guzaldo ©  12/31/2019  #178
HAPPY NEW YEAR 2020 my POETIC Friends

Psyche wracked with agony
impossible mission to extricate lovely bones
they wanna remain permanently abed.

I chiefly function to amass knowledge
courtesy assiduously, habitually,
and judiciously reading
an eclectic assortment of written material.

Yours truly woke
with ambition, disposition,
inclination, and predilection
to glean from an assortment
of books esoteric learning
since... birth, but particularly
when experiencing emerging adulthood
about two score years ago.

Feeble attempt crafting poetry
whereat gobbledygook doth trot -
oven chilly cooked confusion eliciting
faint thanks a lot
unbeknownst this tasteless,
senseless, rhymeless... lettered
Rorschach test tease I jot
interpretation, viz hitting
analogously like amorphous melted ingot
watch yourself...

d's lines iz still smok'n HOT,
now I puzzle regarding how
to extricate mess elf,
cuz aye got myself
into try'n to strut and trumpet
hightailing (courtesy Google)
searching information superhighways
one can cyber surf to Hong Kong,
(a coastal city and major port
in Southern China,

bordering Guangdong Province
through the city of Shenzhen
to the north and the South China Sea
to the east, south, and west)
an entrepôt, (which goods brought
for import and export,
and for collection and distribution)
yea, that autonomous enclave
the region inhabited since
the Old Stone Age,

later becoming part
of the Chinese Empire
with loose incorporation
into the Qin dynasty
initially starting out
as a farming fishing village
and salt production site,
it became an important free port
governed by Chief Executive,
who serves as premier of the Region

and head of government
of Hong Kong
beholden to The Basic Law
which designates a system of governance
led by a Chief Executive
and an Executive Council,
under principles of separation of powers,
with a two-tiered system
of semi-representative government
and an independent judiciary.

Anyway... when zombie like,
and hyper aware
about mein kampf,
and lxv roaming years
exhibiting conscious state
(although that might be debatable),
I try to dead reckon eyes
purposefulness astride oblate spheroid
nsync with other gals and guys
either one, t'other or all
mask cue lated in disguise

impossible mission to triangulate
Euclid say logic defies
to comprehend gibberish,
no matter how much you scrutinize
his highness, qua shape
shifting imperfect square stumps
any tree mend us great mind to analyze
me skewering, marinating, gunning... decries
abiding any logical positivism
queries best addressed to Lord of the Flies
since nary handy dandy blues clues,

I opted out thus...
******* provided to synthesize
random words helter skelter
strewn to symbolize
absent any rhyme or reason
courtesy handy matted figurative
trapezoid doth employ
no paradigm to exercise
leaving comprehension after mine demise
so go ahead chastise
cuz I already know,
never will said poetry win apprize.

Initially, an attempt
sought regarding Das scribe,
yours truly donning
checkerboarded rawhide
collared, cuffed oversize raiment, pride
and prejudice obscured
courtesy hand-me-downs
couture also decking out
alley oop trapeze artist bride
of Frankenstein grooming in attendance
with her bonafide
circus motley crew, a veritable
monster mish mashup
happenstance didst decide
unlike traditional feted newlyweds
swingers airborne did only abide.

The law of gravity aerial
pas de deux bodies airborne
aloft pledging their respective troths sworn
fleeting suspended animation while shorn
infinitesimally of Earth's pull
only expert can playfully scorn
accomplishment courtesy no greenhorne
neophytes in utero umbilical cord,
taking root as metaphorical acorn,
thus unbridled and groomed skill inborn
burst out the womb like heated popcorn
snapped up since birth well worn
genes Ringling Brothers and
Barnum & Bailey circus practiced morn
till night stunts became second nature
encore performance
no matter bodies outworn.

Curtain Call now doth close
unrehearsed poetic gambit,
cuz yours truly tuckered out I suppose
ready to take his doze
zee dough into dreamland, expose
zing oft times confused
with dark shadows of outer limits
of twilight zone,
where me lovely bones froze
where sudden night mare arose
gripping courtesy rigor mortis head to toes
daunting wordsmith champion
manifestation of daily woes.

Suddenly me clutched
by melancholic despair
somnambulantly where
countless tomb morrows *****
scarcely undifferentiated
from yesterday's care
wracking psyche with wrath plus fear
at accursed purposelessness near
faux sing myself regarding pas
city to emulate good cheer
whereat time and tide
wait for no man/woman.