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life nomadic Jan 2013
Black plastic nametag with white letters,
slightly off-white and not-so-flat from a trip or two through a bachelor's dryer.
I remove it from the bottom of the washer, lightly ******* the engraving,
and ask what's your middle name, this letter T?

From the kitchen you say, my grandmother named me,
with a private grin.
She might have been kinda drunk.
Walking behind me, your caramel-rich low voice soft in my ear,
TsuneoKawehiwehiokekuwahiwionouaioku'uhome.
(saying with careful pronunciation)
Tsu-nay-o-Ka-vay-hee-vay-hee-oh-kay-ku-va-hee-vee­-on-oh-vay-ee-o-ku-u-**-may
and I was just sent

No, she wasn't drunk, she knew exactly what she meant.
Kapunawahine, holding her little mo'opuna kāne,
sensed your father was restless with rock fever,
would be moving away to the mainland with her first grandson soon, so she says to you
*This land of water and rainforest trees of the mountains, Hawaii, will always be your beloved home.
.
.
Copyright © 2013 Anna Honda. All Rights Reserved.
we've met before

We took some time off work, to meet for lunch. A flight of stairs down from the sidewalk.  A basement
coffee/book shop with ubiquitous old-Seattle esprit.  Our easy conversation passed hours like minutes.

No, we met first on the sidewalk. I thought it was you because you were standing, waiting, looking at your
phone, wearing a *(why are they all?)
oversized firefighter's jacket.  A man in uniform.

Actually, we met online.  I was curious, checking out the site.  Only one guy caught my interest, you
emailed me first.

But I think we've met before.  When I first saw your eyes, I recognized you from when we were infinite.
I saw the deepest, clearest water and peace, a glimpse of life in love and summer sun.

...


The picture on the cover

4 dates since we met, 9 days on the calendar, each one a surprise.
a coffee date, mt biking, (you rented the best bike for me)
***** shooting (oh, you loved the sight of me with a gun)
visiting your dad discussing books and gardens, then a surprised brother;
God, you knew the best food for dinner tucked into small funky streets.

Then today, a hike. A firehouse lookout at 10,000'- scrambling boulders, a skinny precarious
ladder to the top.  The view is epic, cliffs fours sides, miniaturized trees way down,
sun rays to this warm spot on the wrap-around porch for lunch, tucked out of the wind.
The sandwich you made just right.  You had me at avocado.

Thin air and a delicious little bottle of sake from a wooden box-cup made us giddy,
trying to figure out that Japanese label, some cartoon figure of a victorious mean Samarai?
So we named it Kick-*** Sake, and I took a picture.
Then you asked me to marry you.
And I said yes.

...

She knew

A black plastic nametag with white letters,
slightly off-white and not-so-flat from a trip or two through a bachelor's dryer.
I remove it from the bottom of the washer, lightly ******* the engraving,
and ask what's your middle name, this letter T?

From the kitchen you say, my grandmother named me,
with a private grin.
She might have been kinda drunk.
Walking behind me, your caramel-rich low voice in my ear,
TsuneoKawehiwehiokekuwahiwionouaioku'uhome.
(saying with careful pronunciation)
Tsu-nay-o-Ka-vay-hee-vay-hee-oh-kay-ku-va-hee-vee-­on-oh-vay-ee-o-ku-u-**-may
and I was just sent

No, she wasn't drunk, she knew exactly what she meant.
Kapunawahine, holding her little mo'opuna kane,
sensed your father was restless with rock fever.
He would be moving away to the mainland with you soon, so she says to you,
*This land of water and special rainforest trees of the mountains, Hawaii, is always beloved home.
Edna Sweetlove Sep 2015
Barry Hodges goes all autobiographical in this one

O well-renowned upper-class *banlieue
#, gorgeous Gosforth,
(blest suburb of the mighty Novocastrian metropolis
majestically situated on the Northern side
of the glorious industrial River Tyne
which wends its stately way towards the sea
only pausing to absorb greedily the teeming outflow
of the sewage farm at charming South Shields),
Thrice hail to thee##, O uncrowned queen of Northumbria!


And selbstverständlich### Gosforth's greatest claim to fame
In the annals of literature and cultural glory
Is to be the proud birthplace of yours truly,
Barry Hodges, the immortal Bard of Gosforth;
O sweet Mary mother of God (Ave Maria, cha cha cha),
How could I ever forget my dearest memory there,
Of my first immense accidental ****** incurred
Whilst washing myself manfully in the bathtub one day,
Thus causing a really **** teenage soapy squirt?

Let my ardent fans gawp in terror and wonder
At my countless amorous encounters
And their tragic yet inevitable consequences;
How sad must you be reading how mistress after mistress
Comes to a sticky end (to coin an unfortunate phrase)?
And, verily, other blood relatives are not spared:
Aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, (parents even),
All are prone to going under a runaway bus or charabanc
Or even tumbling into a frothily noisome manhole,
Gargling sadly in eldritch agony as they drown
In lumpy brown-ale-flavoured untreated Geordie sewage.

And yet, one day, un bel di di maggio#### perhap,
I too may encounter a fate too utterly horrid,
Too utterly horrid to contemplate, oy vay#####;
Maybe involving a blunt machete wielded gaily
By some poor demented cuckolded old *******
Whose pathetic bedroom skills have been derided
By his gloating lady wife after a taste of love's Nirvana
At the hands of the magnificent Master ******* (me).

O dear Lord and Father of Mankind######,
Look down kindly on el gran Casanova,
El Señor Hodges, and thus let me complete
My mighty oeuvre of awe-inspiring poems,
Before the Grim Reaper takes me in his arms
Dragging me screaming o'er that sad bourne of no return,
To the shivering shores of the benighted Underworld.
But, take pause for a moment, dear reader:
If that other poetic genius (by which I mean
sweet, sweet William, the Bard of Avon)
Could manage 154 bleeding sonnets no less
(and Christ knows how much else besides)
Before kicking the *******' bucket
(and he poked that Ann Hathaway too,
a right totally tasty piece I have heard
with a gorgeously provocative keester),
Surely I may be permitted to churn out a thousand odes
(thus ensuring a few dozen golden trophies from my peers)?


If I am to be denied my just literary deserts,
Even allowing for the occasional day off
To respectfully attend the odd funeral or two
of exhausted bed partners and bystanders,
(followed by the happier reading of the will
in which I get the benefits so richly due to me
as a just reward for sleeping with some ugly cow
and thereby giving her the treat of her pathetic life),
I think it's totally out of ******* order
And a right liberty to boot, squire.
Some notes to assist my fans:
# A pretentious bit of French.
## A Macbeth reference.
### A pretentious bit of German.
#### A Puccinian reference for those in the know.
##### A Yiddish joke.
###### A reference to a hymn I used to sing at school (in between groping my fellow pupils behind the bikeshed)
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2015
philosopher says when he sees v: aha! a future parabola theory given that the romans chiseled v when they meant u!
poet says when he sees v: veer from w into saggy "missing the horizon attachment origin" with a u, could have been a ***** of B... we're here to make sounds... we're not here to make words into poster boys girlies french braiding their hair into ideas and lipgloss.*

but you had to face the 110m hurdles,
i had to become a don quixote, fencing with shadows,
shadow boxing as if simply training,
you could run from dyslexia and the abuse hurled at you,
you had to face an external battle,
i’m facing an internal battle... phantoms and imagery...
you had the external ahead of you, with a wife to be listened to,
i have... no body!
myself and only myself,
of course i am like an elevation of rat... i’m a carnivore
that trips to the supermarket for a 70cl of whiskey
every night, hunting my way to a state of sedatives used,
i know no other drug with or without a prescription...
**** saturday night... it can go to hell...
yes i will get a council flat ahead of the scamming ******
that are like ant queens on the reproductive conveyor belt
(believe me... write like a homosexual to get the g-spots!
have homosexual misogyny in your underwear!)
that’s a muslim donning niqab curtains seller 1.7 (seven being the children),
curse of the economy! get them politicised, angry self-believers
only self-believing by faked passports and fake health-wise ills
from the natural contenders to wear the boxing gloves...
who said things like trevor mc lure: you might remember me
from such existential paradoxes as:
punch my cancer into a liver, punch my cancer up,
liver me up paddy, scots ahoy... ah... what a tagline trendy,
i could almost become an adidas’ stripes of america or malaysia...
so there’s me buying my usual buddy... ‘no coke today?’
‘no, spare coke left, i’ll have this pint of bach to share with the bottle
of whiskey... mind your inquisitive whiskers of the tongue...’
she pretended suicidal tendencies all along...
started cutting veins en route arteries for a fake sing-along cry-along...
made no sense, i slept with my clothes on...
women are crafty bishops... they don’t do communion
but get to craft a second birth certificate of confirmation,
the womb that turned into a cross... we were all squeezed out from
that geometric that said oh oh zero o hay ‘oo;
first spot the letter u... then w... then h... the third letter i’m not familiar with...
too many papyrus scripts burning... can’t spot the latinised version,
i think i’ll need to brew and thus ferment a pint of whiskey to get this one...
just to get 1, 2, 3, 4 up in scales, should have been written as
1cm and exasperation(noun).
i had something originally... but then i decided to digress...
it was like a full house poker sequence... but without cards
and more humans than could be required for believability...
it’s almost... it’s almost like i was jealous feeding the sight
of a man in mid-life looping the thought of cool with the thought
of being cool when adorned with childish ambition to have it
as a child having only bought it as a semi-wrinkled naiveness
that worked its solipsistic magic of: gone are the days
of ***** magnet... come the days of a badger ******* it;
give way... here comes oral *** mummified - mum’s the word
filing is the action... testosterone does not equate itself as ****** *****...
down below australia did a roulette action and decided to
geographically spread its legs for the sire of cocksure ***** india...
enter... the mongolian harmonica trick of the index and lip motorboat:
baba hamza baba hamza ali ali contra v.!
so? i sharpened my u into a v... are you sure you
don't understand the question: vat iz veh vay?
Error 404 Apr 2014
hey
day
bay
say
lay
a
gay
stay
regay
A-day
stray
may
hay
kay
pay
­way
xay
zay
yay
qay
dsfgdjay
ay
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzay
tay zonday
jay
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nay
pay day
qwertyay
smay
vay
cay
oay
aaaay]
aeiouay
34#^82345#@5723476ay­
its over
wait that didnt rhyme
that didnt rhyme either
i broke the pattern
nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!ay
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2017
chór! i duch!
               blady... rym...
ale i też wygoda powrotu
jako niby żyd... bo
te paluski... i ten *lajkonik
...
kiev w warszawie... na
tym tle: bo to gwar gadania
i autobus w pizdzie nocy i
zimy... ceka... ceka.

   o bodziem...
  punk kot w czekam
i czoło i glebe i rys islamu,
   i szkło skalu w czaszke
i gołote... i ten... pierdolony kosciół!
goły... naked...
         the cat weighs about 10 kilograms
i'm obviously going to head-**** him
to say good morning...

rrrrrryb ah! koscioł! groto i smród!
rekąpis!                   ryba! flu flu flu!
oj tu: pingwin sie zgina! huj! bra!
   tu! zeżre te polsche... te polsche...
zerwie z nią... bo co?
jakie narodziny mam, "celebrować"?
ja na typ o motłoch? baba?!
taki typ by na miet i slóp -czysłav?!
pats! prostak z... miasta...
  chleba mało... tsa zebrać...
seplień seplień se o se: nago
      i choroba... gniew... grób;
padaj! jak gwóźdz w trumne
czy tam gówno w toalete...
       tsa u... tu com sa, tam com sa...
ja na wygnań!
        ja wygnany, co mi te poloki?
półtłoki? boli, nie? zyh poza granicą,
tam, dam ci kwit i... kćuka!
                 kćuka! na witaj huju!
potem -senką: za casów Herod'a...
  co sfe: pio... senką; taki tanz: oi! ola ola o!

taki zemnie polok, jaki ten
pierw żyd, co pyta:
  
  pytam... bo czekam...

(choir and [the] ghost).

    warto pytać, oto wiem że o nic nie czekam
(nie czekam o nic... po? nie czekam o nic...
po prostu czekam; tak tak, nic nici nić nitka nikt;
kurvfa shoelaces... you ******* deaf
or watching kochaj albo rzuć?       );
tym warte pytać of -zyk-
kiedy nie w... kraju...  or-zelek... or-zelek...
              taki kwaśniewski co tylko sepleni...
blah blah blah... potem na gniew
vay vest vey kal it a p-cle... susumber: or cueue...
         oi oi! wrona! hej! wrona!              co tam?!
eh, ten rojs siber tesz popierdolony...
rrrrreeee lee, wrona! co tam?
o kurva... terz troche... mmm uhum... mm... eh?
   is bez powrotu... taki... niby...
dobry fason i wybór słów
    jako dobry wójek... po glebie jak po
grzbiecie psa
...
ah ten pysk.... taki dobry pies
mógł być, a potem, nagle, naturalnie:
wściek! pyska... harem! harem!
         harem! grypa! grypa! ugh!
                                golem!
    co tam wyrośnie, to tam nigdy nie było...
ani cebula co płacze, ani
           burak któremu zęby
   wypadają...
      oś? czy... osa? i z tym językiem
bez tego języka gwarancji?
            taki jam obcy...
   ja nawet obcy gadać obcym... do perfekcji...
jaki to musi być nud... aby było
              jak to musi być, skoro jest?
    last time i checked... pretty **** awful.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2018
written unto
or rather,
how hard it is to
teach cats affection,
as i have learned...
not so hard,
once you learn
to sleep longer than
they do.
    vay.... vay..
        they...
      hardly an F
                my friend,
**** somewhere else,
i'm bound to spectating
a chess match
formed from a brick walll..
Atlas! give me a pardon
for looking outside my
own body! to subsequently
leave a democratic
                                 root
worth a prism of blossom.
Trefild Nov 2023
a[ɛ]m I going psychotic in my dA̲[ɛ]mn mind
or ma[ɛ]nkind is on a deranged ride
[in fact, I prefer the word "humankind", but it doesn't fit with the rhyme pattern]
on an armored train? like that power-cray
North Korean son of a bo[ɑ]mb afraid
of his own go[ɑ]ddamn shadow, for it, ju[ɪ]st like
this *****#cking fatso's order, is quite
terrible; on a reckless ride that's
go[ʌ]nna take
the highly developed kind back
fro[ʌ]m the age
of reason to the uncivilized past's
darksome days
["dark somedays"]
(probably the latter)
————————————————————————————————
should be in a mental asylum watched over (why?)
off my "meds" like some iron-grip jE̲rkwad
[the meds were mostly video games]
in power striking a wA̲r up
an indescribable U̲rge to wreak destruction & ******
[mostly lyrically]
as if I were a horse-riding enforcer of the Apo[ɑ]calypse or a
jihadist supporter of the IslA̲mist new order
heading to a spot with the public galO̲re to
turn up at; I'm highly avE̲rse to
autocracy, but tyrant-like to[—]ward a kindergartner-like verser
half-a## writers, conformers, & allies of usurpers
better put on something fire-sound or go underground
like the Camorra or Johaness Arnesson, fO̲r I
["for I" is supposed to be read/pronounced as "fora"]
[Camorra is a part of the underworld]
[Johannes Arnesson (Owl Vision) makes underground type of electronic music]
am, like when a living victim's hide's being bU̲rned to
muscles by a hob O̲r a cutting blowpipe, a fierce torcher
["torture"]
and if there were, like Ivan the Fourth, a
terrible tsar & a murker, like a hitman satisfying hit orders
[the reign of Ivan the Terrible is infamous for, inter alia, tortures]
for me to take my pick like a **** 𝑓𝑜[ɔ]𝑡𝑘𝑎
["pic."]
I'd, like the wight-like equine rider
direct my sight on the former (scythe); you hardly can stI̲r up
[Death, the pale one of the 4 horsemen of the Apocalypse]
a spark, I've come to the taiga & stI̲rred up
a violent inferno; while in the wilds, I've discerned a
couple of male old-timers encircled
by some guards & cam workers; a fire fiend, for the
restless mind is like a flamethrower
which this corruption-plagued world su—
—pplies with fuel like a "Flying J" servo
don't get this wrong, I can't be bothered re[eɪ]
which kai is fave by which state, but I'm afraid
autocracy is, in the China vein, on the rise today (on the rice)
but, for the sake of a fighter plane
laying f#cking waste to a ride or train
with an autocratic ******* aboard
what is a singular someO̲ne that ain't
a well-savvy hacktivist nor
a sick gunfighter, like Max Payne
to do when the disbalance between a civil society
and a regime in some abysmal auto[ɑ]cracy
is so grave there's nothing safe
and rock-solid, like a tungsten *****
to do to undermine this state
of affairs? apply the cre[i]do of yours
to whatever at which you are versed
that's why I'm engaged in my anti-autocratic rhyme crusade
[previously to this one: "punishment of an autocrat"; "надвигался 2022-ой" ➔]
[➔ "a couple of words for dictators" & anti-authoritarian fragments ➔]
[➔ of some other rhyme pieces published by me]
I might lO̲O̲k to be an evil-minded skate
now, but, seizing the opportunity
like some viced ***** gained
a role O̲f a rU̲ler with
an unchecked political might & aimed
at establishing a tight-grip reign inside the state
there's something I'd like to say
I hhhooock... thooo... spit on tyrants' graves
and graves of their compliant aides
without the slightest shame, I, like a crane for construction, raze
["raise"]
their heads—tones by a mace from the knightly age
bet taphophiles ain't gonna like the way
in which I behave; ones who're enviro-cray
better get fire squa[ɑ]ds awake like a rite that takes
place after someone's life has waned
wholly (a wake), 'cause I get mY̲ hands laid
on a pulverizer with spirits of wine & spray
it on those scheissers' grave—yards, then make
'em go, like the face of someone laughing so wildly they
are about to split their sides, ablaze
and I've barely gotten underway
lyrics-wise, I'm gonna give a harsh time
to a power-blinded, nazissistic go[ɑ]bshite
a sort of tea party which you'll no[ɑ]t like
'cause there's a billypo[ɑ]t rife with steaming splo[ɑ]sh I've
got in the pipeline, like oil, & will be pleased to slo[ɑ]sh right
into your filthy mug, swine, so here's a piece of a[ɑ]dvice
better get equipped with some wipes
and something chilling, much like
a horror game when you sit without lights
and with earphones on in the middle o[ʌ]f night
it may seem now as if I'm a kitchen cart guy
and you're at an eating spo[ɑ]t (why?)
'cause you're about to get served
scuzz, I'ma strike
a lyrical skewer through your mouth & your stern
just like a swine
————————————————————————————————
it is night-time, like the pre-enlightenment E̲[i]poch, but I'm
["knight time"]
like a ballista sho[ɑ]t flyi[—]ng
the target's way, in the open air & quite away
like an anthracite aflame/ablaze
["(a) vay" (Malagasy) - "(a) glowing coal"]
nearby the gates of your sublime estate
a mite ashamed to say this, but I might be ta'en
for the Russian state or the "Hamas" brigade (why?)
these premises are like Ukraine
or Israel, respectively, inasmuch as they
are gonna be violated sI̲m. to a victim of a ******; finna
penetrate your villa like the agent Fisher
[Sam Fisher from the "Splintel Cell" videogame series]
which is gonna be made much quicker
than you, a[ɛ]nxious geezer, would make a lady stimu—lated I̲nto
the ****** state; your security system & lights are way
like a surgeon who's armless, they no longer o[ɑ]perate (ha-ha)
'cause I have an EMP device in play; the weather, by the way
is trash, raining, just like Hussein in his presiding days (trash, reigning)
but your cap-cladded daw[ɑ]gs remain
outside despite that & an adage Russians say
that a dog keeper that is mindful ain't
gonna let his dogs be outside at the time it rains
or when some other weather that's bad becomes the case
but thA̲t's, un—like the sign that's made
of metal & acts A̲s an
indication that it's a co[ɑ]p you face
not a bother; like a register that has an
["buzzer", in the sense of "police badge"]
abundant range
of info about a vile regime's pieces of crap having
rank slides, such as their addies, mug sho[ɑ]ts, & names
a specialist, the black-cladded
["special list"]
crusader from the Norsefire-tyrannized UK
in the Guy Fawkes mask strapped with
[V from "V For Vendetta"]
a blowgun with darts, like the pirate claimed
the title of an assassin
[Edward Kenway from "Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag"]
by which I sedate those diletta[ɑ]nte[—]s ordained
to guard your place as I slyly make my go[ɑ]ddamn way
forth like a farcE̲U̲r coming out
of behind the stage
lock pick the door of your house
then walk inside like a pro[ɑ]mena[eɪ]de (walking site)
while touring around
the pretty so[ɑ]lid place
of yours, I encoun—
—ter your do[ɑ]xy draped
with a corse[—]let-like towel
not far away from the room in which you shower, bathe
with her bo[ɑ]dy shape, to one whose mind's unchaste
she's like a va—cant front seat to one whose sight's debased
hard not to try & take; but, given the time & place, I try to stay
away from these broad thoughts like an ex-****-bawd (thots)
besides your inviting bae
like a ship-parking space nearby a pirate-obliging place
["inviting bay"]
I descry your maid nearby the kitchen-dinette; they
both get tranquilized, like someO̲ne who came
for a massage, & chained to pillars of a ba[ɑ]lustrade
with their gobs sealed with parcel tape
arrived a mite hungry, so I knife a slice
off of an icebox pie I came bY̲ inside
the fridge of yours, then eat it sE̲rved on
your high-cost plate
using your silver fork &
your table knife engraved
with a rhomb grid adornment
(some would think you're a perfectionist, like me when I undertake)
(rhyming like an Eastern person)
["ramen"]
(but, in accordance with what my mindset says)
(it's more likely you're just pretty corny)
(like rappers whose lines display their consumerism-governed brains)
(and whose body of rhymes is shaped in an unenticing way)
once the meal's finished, like a rival/fighter slain
in a "Mortal Ko[ɑ]mbat" fray, I leave your tableware defiled, same
as that pious place, in which ***** Riot made
a protest performance
pU̲t on, like that unashamed
co[ɑ]cky, a la desert soldiers
["khaki"]
autocratic swine that reigns in the north-east mo[ɑ]bster state
some high-octane tunes fro[ʌ]m a play—
—list of mine, then start to make your hideaway
[it's supposed that the EMP effect has gone by this time, so electronics are able to function]
look like it faced the wildest rave that mustered skates
who have, like a wrE̲cking ball
a disorganizing trait
towards stuff that's ta[ɛ]ngible
and are prone to territory-marking, same
as what's done by a[ɛ]nimals
or bY̲ street ga[ɛ]ngs
quite an effortful
jo[ɑ]b awaits your unlucky maid
or whoever you're gonna choose to invite & pay
in order to neutralize the may—hem caused by my stay
————————————————————————————————
such a misfortune you, A̲##hole
are away from your glorious castle
which is, like a brutal ******
that you are, looking nO̲[ɑ]t so
["nutso"]
glorious now if you look insI̲de, *** (ha-ha)
you stupid ****̲teball, ***** you, li̲ke bolts
"spit on autocrats' graves" by TREF1LD (TRFLD) is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (to view a copy of this license, visit creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0)
you
n i perceive reality in our own view
too
how the world a skew

and each rue
while mind each "p" n "q"
of societal mores mebbe at a pew
or in a car brand new

that purrs like a "meow"
or even on the loo
'bout a lover ye knew
thinking of gentile or jew

now tis that does hew
a friendship that mite grew
cuz quality gals so far n few
like finding a miniature red
   white striped emu
like eeyore - feel in ivy blue.
---------------------------------------

sorry for all dis bather
   me lass of an heart felt ace
& hope no words o mine base
so lemme cut to the Chevy driven chase

to relish c ying ur face
yi yi yippee - thy grace
****** desires to gather
   at what e'er pace

cuz dis haint no race
for us to trace
an arc &
   compete with lovers
   that for e'er frieze on grecian vase.
---------------------------------------

which day
whether sunny or gray
as high r low clouds lay
like pair a moors

   or nags in may
would be okay
to...play
oye vay
and enjoy
   hot ravenous ja way?
---------------------------------------

this chap aint no a rod
   knee nor danger
concocting a fiction
   be yin born in a manger
neither does he don
   role of ranger
thou veritable stranger

THOUGH A VERITABLE UNKNOWN GAL 2 ME
NONETHELESS, I MUST BE GOING STIR CRAZY FOR YOU! ™

---------------------------------------

hi yam hankering Asian urge gent wuss
celibate lee  married, a zealous adult tour us
desires to tuss
sill with a female,
   no not necessarily
   her coiled n kinked

   hair to muss
nor special outfit to fuss
i try not to ******* cuss
nor cause no trouble
   if aboard the digital bus.
---------------------------------------
PLEASE be patient with him. In due time, his ability to calm down and control the erectile fusillade will chime with YOUR ******.

HE well deserves to end this celibate state and get requisite COMEUPPANCE!
---------------------------------------
Hello Sin Come on In!

I thoroughly enjoy plying (like a baker kneading dough) these slender and smallish fingers at the juncture of neck and shoulders. As many cumulative kinks would be ironed out. Muscles and tendons on either side of the spine (from stem to stern) privy to tender loving care. Special emphasis would be given to any particularly sore area. Perhaps an especially noticeable ache exists along the upper or lower back? Just the appropriate amount of (gentle) pressure - from the heal of one hand or the other - called into action.

Might forearms or biceps be in sore need of massage? Gluteus Maximus saddle sore? How about thighs? Any other parts of your anatomy require skin nourishment? This willingness to manipulate knotty points of tension offered for passionate physical *******. Game? No need to think this hum bull guy wood MONOPOLIZE you NOR doth ye need to feel SORRY if nada one iota of interest exists!
---------------------------------------
unsure...
  
what this free thinker
   who lives ~10 miles north east
   of valley forge, penna ought to write
also not knowing
   if rambling comes a
   cross as trite

maybe filled with angry under
   panting tones awash
   with spittle and spite
veering considerably
   left of political right

which liberal democratic
   leanings correct quite
   an attempt to come across
   as mature and polite

hoping to induce interest
   to get together
   some day or night
discussing topics
   profound or light

or...letting sexually intimate
   fantasies (of mine)
   take supersonic flight
restoring darkened psyche
   with high octane
   self generated energy bright.

only one finger
used to hen peck
and types this
four tee billionth acre

doth, dis dude
real soon will take a break
eat sum petrified cake
like an ancient yodel,
ring ding or drake

interestingly enough
can cure any earache
with nary an edible flake
mebbe jump in a

poker face booked - mud flat lake
steal away imagining to make
out with you,
a moist meaty milky shake.

i yam ma nada trip pin
jist over dose sin
n wanna marry gin.

star-date = 9999 anno domino;
time = 1700: 39:_ pm

u r a be u tee
only in imaginary will i see
u re joy sing -
for me
as glee
from one male sassy thee
sets passions free.

like one pac man on a roll
   bell ringing canon,
   fast moving caboose
or mad as hell
   headless goose

this josh hing drake
   haint butta loose
goose
whereby moose

uh d utter creatures
   tink i lack mental juice
i.e. ja dat - right duh gray matter
   of dis knit wit,

   the "infamous" deduce
cob bulled with
   whirled wide web
   peppered with rotten cous cous
& find my rye ting
   an absolute nuisance
ready to call doktor Zeus.
Nationwide Insurance twas on my side yay
cuz, earlier this July forth
     two thousand eighteen ja way
windows closed, doors locked, and

     car keys visibly splayed
     on driver seat oye vay
feel free to call me a horse's *** today
utter anxiety compounded,

     plus unable to locate master key,
     thence fodder for poem and more to say
rifling thru boxes without success,
     an impulse arose to call road

     upon learning policy
     doth include locksmith service,
     ah felt less doggone snappish,
     and uttered hoo ray

though modest aye,
     congratulated awesome,
     fulsome, and handsome
     self on quick thinking,

and automatically became less tiresome
     pondering for no particular rhyme nor reason
     (as a getaway) Panama or Paraguay
then immediate decided,

     sans ditto explanation,
     but no how and nay
yet honest to dog suddenly felt
     like a young lovestruck lad

     during month of May
and without further delay
a compulsion arose
to putter along, though

     momentarily gazing heavenward
     and counting (just beak caws)
     glistening black crows
plus painfully aware

     a spike in recurrent
     "senior" moment of forgetfulness grows,
thus starkly aware significant rustiness
     increasingly, frightfully,

     and chokingly coats
     lix spit tillage harrows
resuming schlepping dishabille
     crotchety bedeviled aching

     body electric irksome
with fringe benefit (such as
     momentary lapse of reason)
     quite aware mettlesome

ness of youth nonrefundable,
     non-reliable, and non-retrievable,
     and guaranteed continued
     pricking, viz nettlesome

degenerating aging telomeres,
     sensate perspicuity, and oxysomes
leaving a once robust person some
what discombobulated
     and easily toilsome.
as origin of **** Sapien species surged ahead,
harboring nascent predominance
   asper said primate reproductively bred
(albeit via incremental fits and starts)
   evolutionary forebears didst dread

   lock, stock and barrel arboreal cred
whence, (since time immemorial) nasty, short
   brutish, loutish, and vampish anthropological,
genealogical, and millennial report
   card found forebears

   precariously position quart
toured place de resistance purport
   head supremacy devastatingly,
   heavily, and literally bruited nearly abort
ting tentative tenacious status oft times

challenged minuscule leading edge
proto humans rendered perch
   (on evolutionary leading cusp) fund hedge
ching hypothetical bets said simians

   nearly toppled off figurative privy ledge
against being easily uprooted
   akin to one weeding out unwanted sedge
imposing fledgling breakfast of champions
   clinging to niched wedge

while serial incessant challenges nearly wrote
off and snuffed out, extinct et cetera
   clinched placed viz *** him tote
often at fateful loggerheads,
   where survival of the fittest  smote
poised dawn of dusky mankind

   viz apish creatures almost got rote
   off while chance dominance, eminence grise
   pitted, spitted, and got vetted sans un quote
   able primal screaming expletives
pitted Neanderthal progenitors note

worthy kickstarter scrum
   ump hired held dim promise,
   whether weathered brood,
which smattering population comprised
   a scattered handful of rudimentary

   destined to become
   some ascribe God's sigh propitiated
   contemporary lass hit dude
whence, amidst looming pointed danger
   confronted Geico caveman,

   and aside from external
   threatening depredations
   comprised tribal family feud
where might versus right
   the deterministic factor aye include

at undoubtedly animalistic behavior
   defied being categorized as lewd
since each monkey's uncle
   punctuated equilibrium with cut throat

   i.e. Maciavellian imprimatur
   fate didst not occlude
attested via rotogravure fledgling artistic shewed
also absence of consciousness rued

until...fast four words
   (count them) - to the present system of a down day
when carnal, feral, and integral leanings attempted
   to rope hormonal, gonadal, and banal found
   more recent ancestors (discovered
   visa vis like 23andme)

   on a greenday rolled in the hay
under natural predilection to lay
naked, especially frisky comb early May
procreative force
   engendered the writer of this poem,
   when his parents coaxed fore play

unbeknownst, that their singular heir,
   would be afflicted with countless
   mental ollie ollie oxen stinging ray
obsessive compulsive mailer to slay
ritualistic controlling psychic threnody
dominated favored holistic paradigm oye vay.
born two days
after ole Punxsutawney i.e. the Doctor Phil -
of woodchucks Latin Name = Marmota Monax
nest resembled Rastafarian hair weave,
which creature rattled with ire and peeveishness,

when rudely roused from his abode February fourth
two thousand nine hundred and ninety nine
just two days after said groundhog got prodded to predict,
what surprises old man winter would deliver
from his snowy white sleeve
then juiced when he tried tug *** cozy once again,
an ear piercing cry rent quiet  
his pseudo Redmond Proficiency Academy den.

Wails via this tearful papa surpassed
decibel deemed tolerated,
hence entire webbed threshold did reverb
and rebound and he could not
muffle ears to block out sound,
nor would said creature trust
his beady eyes, how metamorphosis
doth confoundingly, blindingly, and astoundingly
transformed alien (perfect E.T. Stand in) appearing
gangly infant into a stunning - materiel
sans as fashionably attired
home coming queen crowned soon
to be freshly minted high school senior,
and perhaps college bound.

Seventeen plus years ago (soon be nineteen years -
she skipped to my lou eighteen), elapsed in a flash,
as a newborn mandated to exit
womb er full world uterine she
did plash ordained by Mother Nature
decreed must wriggle and leave placental stash
without (of course) leaving a mass of trash.
Thus, exit from birth canal complemented
second and last daughter to the Harris mix
whereby, she communicated
via clucks just for kicks
starting to gabble sounds vocalizing -
sounds of cow bell licks
influenced by Donald Duck
and Leif Erics son, also enlisting
literary feedback from Barack Obama,
and his lovely brood of Dixie chic chicks
attired in his wall den uniform bespeaking
his pointed skill teaching pre-presidential days
within ivied bricks primal utterances she acquired
(courtesy of Alice Cooper)
Retained like toys in attics.

Like any buck minister fully taken aback
this mister mom did fuss and fawn
from one jimmy crack corn to the next rhyme,
which captive infant audience gave no flack,
precious heir from ***** papa did help spawn -

an everyday ******* Jack of all trades
whereat n'er tiring as child rearing
more challenging than untying Gordian knot
without lack king and how, The Idler Wheel
Is Wiser than the Driver of the *****

and Whipping Cords Will Serve You
More than Ropes Will Ever Do to pack
a Judy ish us punch, though thee Punim
born with adroit skill to quack
mimicking gripped banshees,
denizens frenziedly shrieking
out the box of Pandora - as if one felt a whack
and a wallop, nonetheless infant younger daughter

a boon against strife
wool worth effort and propensity
to revel qua biological miracle re: said offspring
did inadvertently teach me lessons of life

to cherish and savor each giggle, laughter and smile
amidst cramped apartment plus feeling
discombobulated frustration bubbling rife
introducing yours truly
to tha hen pecked moody blue wife.

pockmarks can vouchsafe this un beak able trait
from spouse, who need not be lambasted
on account of increased weight.

Like a human bobbing sponge youngest progeny
absorbed auditory/ visual multitude
within each axon and neuron of that infantile sensory
“sir” kit board aware at a tender young age
how she struggled to string words together
to convey a mood
predilection with language impediment
possibly passed thru umbilical rip cord.
No idea thru combination of genetics and biology
that burnished beautiful lass oof an offspring
wrought a smart girl, an apple of the eye
per this father who never thought
thru attempts at conception sought

supremely melded genes, he thought
loves labors last, t’would come
to naught delivered us an artistic,
intrinsic, linguistic lass
who for no price can be bought
though someday, a young lad will take a fancy

(as ought to be the path of biology)
and hoop fully brings ye happiness
for your remaining lifetime
with a numeral
(following a number from one to nine)
with many an aught!

TOO LOVE YOU MY DEAR SHANA -
MORE THAN THIS SHABBY POEM
CAN CONVEY, WHICH...
UPON ATTEMPTING TO UNDERSTAND -
ABOVE GIBBERISH JA PROBABLY
WILL PROBABLY RAISE ARMS UP
IN DESPAIR UTTERING OYE VAY!
twas the bright idea of zee missus aye air
and dedicate this poem
(yes tis correct, if you bare
lee remember this mister

did formerly she push duck clear
addressed said spouse
"my little buttock blaster" en dear
ment - for obvious reasons,

and before she begat two 'ere
rip press ably lovely daughters),
anyway thee wife I fear
to publicize contracted a benign
strain sans incurable glare
ring housecleaning malady

(thus far no unpronounceable hair
raising name affixed
to non contagious nonetheless
accursed malady,
whereby to keep at bay,

scrubbing stubborn stains
from clothes, dishes,
and gamut of hibernating
Ursine horde (nee motley crue)
that come breathing alive
Nsync with beastie Bay
City Rollers Culture Club bing babes

upon first spring day
engrossed in this, that,
or some other sweeping floor foray
(analogously to Velveteen Rabbit)
shedding gray

winter coat when warmer temperatures arrive,
where humungous fur clumps would lay
comprising sudden empty raft
of shelf space minus a may
zing globules, oh...lemme get on track,

whence frenzied fever "cleaning bug" nee
major virus afflicting wife,
would necessitate impossible task
strapping former

feisty Norwegian farm gal
in straight jacket ivingsocial every
would be no game to play
boot tiring and cruel task of her life Yukon say
24/7 daily challenge,

which unpredictable timeframe
thine remaining lifetime sans wife oye vay
would frank lee zap
every last oomph of mine

if able twin door remaining with spouse
meanwhile 'til she obliviously
plucks persistent sprouting stranded follicle
tiller broad forehead resembles
a minuscule tarmac way.
Hie did/do cha did cap cha a clue
you want me....... yes sigh dew
and will hew
a path in tandem with the help of uncle loo
on guard on mind our peas and queue
in an effort to earn my stripes for u
and even join tribe of village people per view
wing a Flintstone lifestyle where…whew
mebbe, many a close call chased by a giant beast,
   and saved
   by the released arrow whack,
   sans bulls eye thwack (no lion) respite of a Zulu.

---------- while ----------

Awaiting my modified sentence  -
A fictional injustice landing me in the slammer for fone he ears - with no penitence.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
No way to dodge fiat decreeing death sentence twill span
the rest o' me life, cuz such incarceration haint part o ma plan
for this abetting dodging, hedging rambling man
voicing objection - that thee trump petting don iz no fan
of mine, and who felt unready to kick the can
on account of violating what...freedom of speech ban
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Against abominable illegal mandate
with no way to commute death sentence this late
for simple act of voicing opinion against
   existence of heavenly gate
nor hellish underworld despite religious ******
decreeing penance as one articulate prelate
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Spurious pedagogical poetic rant,
ache kin to melting wax growing a candlewick
not the ravings of some half mad lunatic who doth tick
tock carefully plotting recitation that springs quick
from combined teachings of kant did *****
the mind of this jolly old Saint Nick
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Charges ******* up per this average don
purportedly blaspheming judeo-christian paradigm
as an atheist many beliefs outdated and fore gone
upending blind faith equated with hill of beans upon
which dogma erected epitomized by
complex edifices via grime
+ ****** tears and trifle pay for toiling for a bombastic scion
sweat shed by Polish slave labor
usurpation of freedom stripped analogous
to yearning Palestine yearning their own Zion
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Until outspoken persons risked life and limb
to invalidate existence of supreme deity
many still accredit with creating life proper and prim
whether for extra credit or perhaps on a whim
Adam from whose rib cage without anesthesia
but razor sharp knife sprung Eve
with a physique quite pleasing and trim
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
But rather than get lost in the Garden of Eden myth
final seconds countdown of existence tick away
while this keying nonchalant hammering word smith
doth not capitulate, aye deem heart of religion flimsy as pith
without intent to recant statements
   solely acceptable to b’ni brith
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Prompting last words of mine as oye vay
thing in the wind or house of cards vulnerable to blow away!
Je n'ay plus que les os, un Schelette je semble,
Decharné, denervé, demusclé, depoulpé,
Que le trait de la mort sans pardon a frappé,
Je n'ose voir mes bras que de peur je ne tremble.


Apollon et son filZ deux grans maistres ensemble,
Ne me sçauroient guerir, leur mestier m'a trompé,
Adieu plaisant soleil, mon oeil est estoupé,
Mon corps s'en va descendre où tout se desassemble.


Quel amy me voyant en ce point despouillé
Ne remporte au logis un oeil triste et mouillé,
Me consolant au lict et me baisant la face,


En essuiant mes yeux par la mort endormis ?
Adieu chers compaignons, adieu mes chers amis,
Je m'en vay le premier vous preparer la place.
Je n'ay plus que les os, un squelete je semble,
Decharné, denervé, demusclé, depoulpé,
Que le trait de la mort sans pardon a frappé ;
Je n'ose voir mes bras que de peur je ne tremble.

Apollon et son fils, deux grands maistres ensemble,
Ne me sçauroient guerir, leur mestier m'a trompé ;
Adieu plaisant soleil ! mon œil est estoupé,
Mon corps s'en va descendre où tout se desassemble.

Quel amy me voyant en ce poinct dépouillé,
Ne remporte au logis un œil triste et mouillé,
Me consolant au lict, et me baisant la face,

En essuyant mes yeux par la mort endormis ?
Adieu, chers compagnons ! adieu, mes chers amis !
Je m'en vay le premier vous préparer la place.
How refreshing to experience
     a reprieve from sultry weather
when hazy, hot,
     and humid warm front
     unleashes a very short sweaty tether.

Man hat tin dar overcast skies
     hint potential rain on the way
perchance avast dastardly
     flickr ring instagram

     kickstarter linkedin shutterfly
     Taurus headed soundcloud
     skidding across celestial
     (span hushed) rink

     surprising forecasters by yowl
     ling whimsically, unexpectedly oye vay
training (laser like),
     Asian outsize dark cloud

     climatological frontispiece
     randomly making next stop Old
     Rotten Gotham's Greenwich Village
     zero wing in on

     Poor (Chuck Keys) Uruguay
neighborhood possibly confidently
     foretold by meteorologists today
pointing at map showing

     cold air mass as it doth sashay
July twenty first 2018, though
     Mother Nature defies pre
     diction pulling out all (busted) stops,

     vis a vis via "her" quay
zee bag of tricks nay
saying trained forecasters ****
hush all self importance

     also to humble those mere mortals
     getting paid a handsome buck
by anthropomorphizing viz cluck
king in tandem with duck
billed Baritone Horn
     Trumpeting "FAKE" luck

trotting out obstreperous
     Sunny Rays, who doth beam
with radiance a
     diametrically opposed extreme

over zealous call for precipitation
     instead raining one after another quanta
     bright blinding meme
outsmarting the seem

ming airtight (cat in the bag)
prediction leaving once supreme
vouchsafing without a doubt forecasters
     left holding the empty bag
     large enough tuff fit the whole team.
(revamped, retooled, and reviewed for the mad council).

Admiration and kudos to quick as
greased lightening witted language
mongers gifted with means to deflect,
stave off, or thwart venemous, sacri
legious, pompous,et cetera lethal
impacts delivered chiefly to ***
*** in ate character, degrade, ex
Cory ate, where deliberate hefty
insult bruited viz zit head via bit
ting acrimonious gloating by some

trumpet ting twelfth knight, Mar-a-
Lago dwelling, Don Juan, Cassa
nova interloper ideally to be met
and taken rite off guard with cutting,
fitting, and incriminating scythe leant
taste of bitter pill as bad medicine
measure for measure, which earns
repartee deliverer at the least (cut
ting to, the quick principled litter
a chore thieving magpie klepto

maniac maven anyway) raising
the bar, per how can eye whip up
a creative reply to ward psychic
bruises as would be confirmed
by an x-ray evidencing sharp black
Amy Lloyd Barbs lobbed my way.  
Plight reiterated and described again re
phrased as mine good humor hum
dinger mew zing ct-scan reveals
(outsize funny bone) pinpointing

tiny thesaurus sim card firmly
permanently embedded, where temple
(my Mansfield) binds as the Great
Chaim Yonkle yiddish alt pun stir Perry
Como crooning se yammo, a friendly ****
mum exchange (minus jet lag) oye vay,
boot how novel, if I could wit
ness (or personally experience) quick
lightening rod quips would come to me
rescue (supercalifragilisticexpialidocious),

but generally, honestly and indubitably,
this flustering rhymster, who with bluster
brownian movement attests and accepts
slow moving cogs and wheels of his
aging noggin normally, notoriously
and nominally NEVER nsync with
nearly top notch national scrabbling
Facebooked bountiful brigands, this
will never happen to utter trail blaze
zing, nail biting, and hair raising awe

some adage, badinage, and/or  persiflage
more likely than not, mum hindlacks
proper cerebral mechanism to dream,
and get linkedin exactly at  prime time.
An absolute beauty of a doozy, flapping
like a ******, hypothetically intimated be
totally tubularly groovy, man and find
me a bit woozy with flickr ring shutterfly
twittering wii zing hacking, joyous, and
kindling euphoria asthma sign us would

go thru roof of mouth boot opportunities
foregone to daydreaming after serious
lapse of time, yet speculatively, and in
sum re: prime tete a tete would spring up
to parry, defang, and blunt puncture of
mine  psyche (imaginatively zinging red
zinger, would be one for the record books),
sans right on cue, rapier jabbing (yet art
fully crafted), an unusually timely resip
rick cal sparring touché (leading com

petition, by my itty, bitty ditty), witty
award winning smart riposte would a
rise supremely after incidents arose from
circumstance, yet twin next opportunity
passes, the critical moment will slip,
away suspecting sanctimonious sham
rock leprachaun spiritedly skewered
lucky charms finding me wishing the
means existed to conjure an instant replay
all to often when recipient of unkind word,
taken aback sans ideal return synaptic salvo.
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2020
.i simply can't get this song out of my head, for a second day: nancy & lee - summer wine... just like i couldn't get jimmy rodgers' kisses sweeter than wine (then again... that might have been the jackson browne & bonnie raitt rendition, i'm guessing most probably the latter)... as i'm pretty sure it's nancy springfield and lee the 70's tash-donning pornstar - sly upperhand singing on the side in between eating oysters...

as i knew i would end the day and begin
my catch-2-hours of: night proper with
a bottle of wine...
how else to celebrate: 'you know,
i really enjoy working with yeast-dough...
oh hell yes, it's much more fun than
the usual dough associated with poaching
dumplings... it's the perfume of yeast...
catch me with a cube of fresh ones
and i'll sit for a while just sniffing it...
yeah... sniffing fresh yeast before actually
using it...'
or at least that how to do it proper
without wanting a take-away pi-za-za...
the sauce is extra herby (extra
basil and oregano) and there's
an added chilli or two...
and enough mozzarella to drown a slice
of ham in with a mushroom or two...

cooking... whoever said it was supposed
to be this pre-****** liberation
1950s postcard homecoming of the housewife:
who said that cooking was a feminine
"job"?
after all, who is Milo Minderbinder?
and who was the cook on the Pequod
or was it Essex?
perhaps that old saying from the Demeter:
it's bad luck to bring women onto a ship...
bad luck indeed: having to name a ship
a woman's name...
but cooking... he hunts and then has
the audacity to cook the **** thing?!
stereotypical - i guess...
what else could i possibly write:
to "correct" myself...

was that anything, in italics, as an introduction...
akin to talking over a radio playing
in the background?

otherwise:
'it was of your making and
then objection, inference and resignation
and revolt. well done'....

and and and...
how best to sum a slow-pacing...
i would have never managed to: well done or
do myself by reaching for the skeleton...
like: it was of your own making,
then an objection, then an inference -
pause: resignation and a crescendo of revolt...

the dignity of walking (cogitans per se)
is being referenced...
and any comment is not a kick-in-the-teeth...
but perhaps i... lack the basics in
identifying very common psychological
apprehensions...

how can something can become so simple?
did i over-romantise it with the latin?
in terms of morality:
i "trans-gender" myself as
new pronoun!

θought: i.e. I ought...
besides, there's the crude manifestation
of a will... when all the knives have
been sharpened...

a comment and i don't know what to do with
it!
i don't know: like it? love it?
dislike it?
can i just keep it, can i just sit on it?
can i pickle it?
can't it wait?
am i expected to provide a dialogue?
which is why i rarely comment...
i could never leave comments
or annotations on books i've read
in the past...

it seems so simple, though!
it's like everyone is supposed to keep this "reality check"!

'it was of your making and
then objection, inference and resignation
and revolt. well done'

a well done i'd call an inedible roast
of beef... a well done i'd call:
chewing gum chicken ******* that
were allowed to sit in the oven for
a period that: doesn't excuse them being
165 degrees when a thermometer is spiked
into the flesh...

what is so "blantantly" obvious!
william buckley jr interviewing norman mailer,
public intellectualism and being drunk
at the same time...
and this horrid testament of gory:
for the better health of the public discourse...

i imagine all the books that never arrived
at the hunchback's angel's purvey
of: what's worth reading... and what isn't...

there i was "thinking" that:
the per se suffix attached... "something"...
it's clearly not a noumenon: res per se
(thing in itself)...
and if it's thinking in itself...
it has to be complicated... adored for what it
is... esp. if it's not related to
some moral θought: I ought...

of the comment provider...
it's quiet staggering...
when you can emphasize with someone...
you hope they're writing about themselves...
you dare not think they're writing about you...
but... in their writing: they are like you...
writing about yourself...
so no... they're not writing about you...
they're writing from a "solipsism" venture
into the horizon "undistrubed"...
you can only retort... i've just come back...
from where you're thinking of going...
and it's not what any hope wishes
itself to envision...
for better or for worse...
for either life or dream...

it's so simple though!
i should listen to strangers more often!
(a) it was of your (own) making
(b) then objection
(c) inference
(d) resignation
(e) revolt

what's that in terms of schematics
and geometry?
that's a pentagram! i haven't seen...
schematics evolve past the square...

that's why i don't like commets...
if i could comment on everything i've ever read...
third-party sourcing someone for
a first-person reply...

perhaps i'm not playing the psychology
game - if it even is a game - at all?
the psychology was just a tow-along
dog with a leash and a muffer...
fair enough: muffer "vs." muzzle...
FF ZZ...
there was this concern for:
what sport will there be demanded...
for man to perform... if he truly
takes walking to the task of countering
all other pleasures: coinciding with
a physical exercise of the body?

i call this: prompt...
how could i not come to such a simple
conclusion, prior?
how could i have possibly coupled:
the freedom of thought...
free speech...
when being... bound to an otherwise:
automated body...
an automated heart... a conscious-unconscious heart...
same for the liver, the kidneys, the brain...
and how... only when it fails...
do people... give it any conscious effort
to mind its existence...
a heart-attack will leave the heart in the hands
of someone who will prize it above...
as long as he is able to sacrifice an eye for it...

walking is where thinking "happens"...
it's a forever dasein since there's
no real "here" or "there"...
and... there's the pervasive interlude...

to have to abhor explaining "things" to oneself...
what are the chances of conjuring
the royal-we or the royal-one...
in that first person via third person meddley?
is there a "they" to be made inclusive...
from a perspective of: the horde of hallucinations?

perhaps i am mad:
but i do know that such conditions do not
become viral,
or at least they shouldn't...
it's not like a schizoid hallucination
can be passed to the next person
with the impetus
of a common detrimental cold: or... zee flu...
you can't "somehow" ingest
symptoms of something akin to this:
without a self-regarding
violition to become... debased to begin with...

i will rarely dare to leave a comment...
on anything...
in so doing i will always want to bypass
"the work"... "in question"...
and speak to the narrator...
because whatever this is...
is it's own purpose...
once i click on the save button...
i do the Pontius Pilate deed...
this poo'em becomes
an abandoned house...
it becomes a squalor...
it becomes a "*****"...
a point of reference for all things
public... akin to a toilet...
**** on it, **** on it... comment: yes do...
**** it... ******* over it...
take Alice with you for
the walk through the corridors of...
not another imagining of not yet another
Elysium...

sometime ago: this would have been...
exactly january 8th...
at ten minutes to 1am...
perhaps it would have been five years
ago...
where was i five years ago?
somehow not right now, "here"...

after a while i get a brailled response...
⠼⠁ view... it's cruel... to have to resort to +
a ⠼⠁⠼⠁ is ⠼⠃
well because of the equals (=) symbol...
morse... contra braille...

count them! (⠼)...
⠁(a and 1)
⠃ (b and 2)
⠚ (j and 0)
⠊ (i and 9)...
and all the other "numbers"
follow suite...
because you really couldn't
write an la dièse: A♯
in braille... then again... perhaps you could...
but that's how i figured out...
it's not exactly the case that
people are born into wheelchairs...

some skydive... some ride horses
competitively...
some scale mountains...
they fall...
i like walking... i always liked walking
more than i would ever care for running...
ignorant of me then...
to "presume" that people are born into
wheelchairs...
like "nothing happened"...
ever...
that 101th carrot a man would eat
being going blind...
or rather: not eating that 101th carrot...

ask blind willie johnson what he
thought about picking up the guitar...
better than waxing a phallus
with forrest gump intent of also playing
the do'whip stoopid toto too!

no... something happened...
Melaine Reid... sure as **** she wasn't born
in a wheelchair...
that's not being mean:
but can i at least enjoy walking when
i don't have a need for the 50th goldstruck marathon
gimmick to celebrate the olympics:
but not the ping-pong or the archery?

can i? it's not like i'm about to swim
like an octopus with inks spare
for a page... that just requires
a dabbling in... a Rorschach?!
really?

who is this person that would have written
either circa 15th century german music
or the dignity of walking (cogitans per se)...
well... certainly not circa me, now...
i was expecting a slow night...
to have written something and not have
clinging to it...
i was welcoming it to have passed
with the purpose of time as:
neither classic... nor worth any intellectual
debate...
something private for those...
wishing it to be most private...
never a taunt...

you can guess when a comment is asking you:
is this a taunt on purpose...
or a taunt... without purpose?
- about how to start a d.m. escapade...
how something is not, "punctuated enough"...
or how... when diacritical markers come to play...
it's somehow... "overtly-punctuated"...

feed me to the lions! feed me to the wolves!
never expect me to go down easily
as being fed to democracy in the lineage
of anglophile "public intellectuals"!
give me the wolves! spare me the mob!
the anonymous mob of the comments!
i'll probably sound german when
i have to: reiterate:
geben mir der wölfinnen...

perhaps i chose the feminine...
over the masculine... thinking of the valkyrie:
kyrie eleison!
when wolves showed up...
or the crab-bucket intellectualists...
i said it once... i'll say it again:
crab-bucket intellectualism...
even in my darkened abode i will never levy
myself to leave a remains of my self...
not in the comments...

but then again: i am chasing
1 millions words as a pauper...
semi-, oh lord! i have somehow missed
the calculation to offer: relief with!
precision!
if these not be hebrews...
then they must be anglo-ßaß!
esp. h'americanißed anglo-sächsisch...
the scurge of the spitz...
the pomeranian... the bohemian...
the bayer...

oh i'm content with my dole...
my dice roll...
i usually ridicule myself...
there's no better humor than...
self-deprecating humor...
and it always involves...
not succumbing to cheap psychiatric
metaphors associated with
a melancholic... i.e. the diagnostics...

rhyming should only happen on a whisper
of a whim...
spontaneously...
there should be no...
dissection scrutiny.... no fibula no tibia:
oh god... there's also a crest?!
what's a coccyx supposed to be?
ancestral tripod / pivot...
something we'd make of a monkey
should he not jump at your command...
break a few bones,
wind him up... until the jack 'n' box
would pop out?!

it's a poem: it's not a book...
it's certainly not an investment worthy
of these modern binges: season rocky XI...
star wars episode... X...
or some spin-off...

if it were as simple as the retort to the question:
why do you **** people?
- why do you pluck flowers?!
dracula, b.b.c. and what not...
it's not exactly a cliche if...
there's an afterthought lingering behind it...
no "great" punctures onto paper
would ever give
the secrets of constellation or...
if it wasn't for the drinking and the loitering
in the antechamber of spontaneity...
what sort of whim,
what sort of "inspiration"...
what muse... would be bound to loiter...
in a day...
for a day: where the zenith is here...
and the nadir the everyday welcome "chores"
that have, already been disclosed...

i looked at the output of the commentators...
someone's bound to be peacocking...
for a solid minute i thought i was
i.q. 95... sub-minimal...
and a reply to these comments would be?
a "conversation" with this current mask,
of a voice, only 10 minutes later: 10 minutes
too late...

so... why bother?
there's a better vision in my head...
10 minutes from now...
i'll be pandering a cushion
to allow my heavy head to fall into its cusp
and ready me with 6 hours of blissful night...
perhaps i'll dream: i hope not...
unless the dreams are less dreams
and more: ciphers...
upon waking i do not meet the litany of:
i think, i am, i will be, i hope to be...
instead... with a backlog of a dream...
i will wake up as:
de- and -cipher...
half an hour upon waking...
having to relax my strict rules of memory
being reserved for "things" that happened
to me when i was 4 years old...

that's when i break the rules for having
an extensive memory...
when i dream and sleep...
or rather: when i dream i forget that i slept...
and when i sleep and not dream?
i'm left with a hangover of not being awake
for 8 hours plus...
"conundrum" or what?

but if i do dream... those 8 hours of sleep
will seem like a breeze...
otherwise i'm ******...
when i wake up and persist with eyes closed...
de- and -cipher...
de- being i... and -cipher being: the dreamed...
past-participle...
perfect grammar doesn't really matter, now...
given that the royal-pronoun game
has been abandoned...
what with no care for the royal-we
or the royal-one...
one was not expecting to come across
the Mongolian Vay... of They... of the horde...
seems times are...
some on the way in... some on the way out.
Why... just yesterday
where webbed wide world troubles
     seemed so far away,
that would hove bin Monday
(October first tooth
     house sand eight
     teen), i.e. yea all
     ready yes tar day

immediately found me ah say
comfortably, yet (gnome
     min Ellie squirreled away)
seated on lawn chair a lay
ying when tired noggin sinks
     deeply buried amidst pillows, may
find me submerged clay
mare ring with fervent eagerness,

     and minimal delay
to soak in contents of the latest
     issue of TIME magazine
     came in the mail, hooray
which information periodically,
     I always eagerly await
     akin to puppy at play
time, though occasionally,

     an issue doth
     not arrive so okay
lack of receiving timely enjoyable
     enlightening material,
     no reason to nay
say United States
     Postal Service pray
tell, an alternate option avails

     to peruse online
     contents, aye vay
their experience, the
     smooth paper texture
this "FAKE" snoop
     doggy dog tags
     online medium deplore
able, cuz lack of poor

lee no comparison versus
     cozying up with pages
     as wood burning
     stove doth roar
these fingers can turn more
appealing than straining, whar
only with great effort,
     aye wreck kin and,

     unable to ignore
     eyes **** sitter
     this quite a chore
to lean in attempting
     with difficulty to explore
(with scrunched brow, and
     squinting myopic ocular orbs)
     scroll thru webpage,

     while ma back
     also feels strained, nor
ken nigh, yet favors
     the hard copy
     visa vis discovering significant
     global and local happenings,

     (which affinity also applies
     to The Nation magazine),
     yet latter noticeably more
brashly appealing tummy with
     righteous leftist political
     leanings bobbing along bon jour.
Gun owners indiscriminately brandish
loaded firearms toward innocent victims,
and concomitantly excite
purported in accordance
with first amendment, relish
yet proliferation allowing
free ranging banshee dervish
sans weapons of mass destruction
(mainly innocent lives)
inures citizens to appear off fish
U.S., and self-important
becoming comfortably numb
at regular headlines detailing
some lone a bit mish
hug ha, an automatic killer
methodically unloading with a swish
multitudinous cartridges attempt
to evening the score, a wish
to take revenge viz a personal vendetta
amidst the madding crowds -
utter oy vay - tis Yiddish.

Such proliferation of
high-powered assault pistols
berserk arc with surging blip
bipedal hominid(s) grip
with a the hand a dirk in case the clip
doth miss the mark,
where siege mentality induces
nationwide sprint ting infamy to drip
metamorphosing into
malignant state with curled (Elvis) lip
mailer daemon hell bent
on besieging bait (unaware nip
*** nap noopy snapchatting beings)
bursting with deadly quip
with a barrage of bullets
malicious intent to spray
killing machines delivering rip
paying deathly howls
amidst pandemonium, thence funereal slip
epitaphs etched on tombstones proliferate
taking souls to Hades trip.

More often than not
such brutal and nasty team
(short lived) nefarious scheme
directed at humble lettered people
(like those comprising ream
member ring my hometown -
once evoked with pastoral meme
of Lake Woebegone) minding
their p's and q's, when in the extreme
and out of the blue like a nightmare
interrupting an idyllic dream
a sudden bitta bing bitta bang
rings terrorist catcall followed
by red tide and river of bloodying
bodied of hue men caskets
rendered veneer of dark wood
within lies corpse,
pistol whipped, where mortician
daub with creme.

soundcloud boom across
thus occurs yet another staccato sinister sonic
the pearl jam gray slate
of some formerly anonymous
name sake, which underline or boss
son or daughter of
***** blitzkrieg of shells cross
invisible trajectories shatter
(at shutterfly speed),
the democratic rubric - rendered as dross
disposable lives of society
with senseless slaughter,
whereat somber silence
echoes nostalgia for the Mill on the Floss
when life seemed so innocent
against the gun metal gloss
wails of agony at another human loss.

This epidemic re:
murderous love affair perfervid
with gruesome morbid
fixation allowing, enabling
and providing terrifying
trappings, whence went Pandora out the lid
anger loosed maniacally gun down
(in S-L-O-W mo) recorded by hid
madding crowd, each person
locked in crosshair grid
source (perhaps pathetic plan
premeditated) employing did
da ding from flying bullets,
a coterie upping the ante vis a vis bid
ding fare thee from odious
loading incendiary fiery clips.

Trigger happy homicidal maniacs slake thirst
to take aim in billeted soiree
with deadly precision, and spray
with pump posse city,
a congregated engaged groupon
of people), with egregious pay
shunt and methodically
mowing down, a slew - nay
re: doth unsuspecting
victim aware - delivering may
hem to this anonymous
American citizen as well
family and survivors, who lay
down their sorrows,
which bring revulsion and gray
obsolescence of faith in mankind to fray.

Death be not proud,
nor ought airtime allocated to these
heinous cavalier avengers
foe tee eight-hour special (proffers
twitchy finger itching to squeeze
especial easy access
to sophisticated high caliber compact
offspring doth please
manifesting those prize pride
killing machine owners never freeze
rapaciously with so much ease
lethal gimcrackery cutlasses
even a lil whippersnapper kite runner
unleashing whipping cords
lacerating more so than ropes will ever do  
necessitate strong control
to stem violence as disease.

— The End —