As we all wake up
But we aren't the same
Continuously living the same as we did yesterday
Dying inside cause we feel we have nobody
Everyone not caring what they say
For some people, fight to save their life
Giving her life
Her life is now actually being noticed
Inside her, a fire raged
Joyfully she would lay it all down
Killing her soul softly
Love didn't win
Mending broken hearts
Never thinking of herself
Out of the ashes
Placed others needs before her own
Quitting the pain
Ripping through a past of scars
Shutting out others thoughts
Unlike all the others
Violence would cease
Was it all in vain
Xyst: something she has always wanted to see, now she can
Yellow, blue flowers and many more flowers to see
Zymotic is something she felt

Sitting restlessly still
Idly passing time
All these circles I've walked
All these days cycling by
To keep a front of peace
I've constructed all these lies
And if I reach out
To touch a wall
It'd shatter
Who am I lying to
Telling myself
I'm frozen to the core

Each weak breath I breathe, although not warm
Holds the life left within me
Escaping my mouth
The misty vapour condensing
Tracks down the frozen walls and
Drawing my gaze
Freezing once more
And if I touch these frozen droplets
That lie on these walls surrounding me
They'd melt and freeze again
Too used to this cycle of
Lifting walls around me again

Walking in circles
I see where I've lied
What I've chosen as home
And
What I've chosen as life
I've lied to myself
And my eyes continuously search for that which
I deny myself

And the temperature of these walls I understand the most
And the temperature of these walls are what hold me close
Hold me together
All other ways and choices of life lost on me

And I realise
I realise all these lies that I latch onto
Held tightly in my hands
What my arteries and veins pulse for
Upholding a universe under my skin
The desires etched into every strand of DNA
Fading from within
Desiring a warmth out of reach
A warmth never felt

(alternately titled: idolizing childhood's end
today April 25th, 2021
generates elusive warm treasured memories).

Akin to significance my eldest sister
felt toward her “*******” –
(totally tubular fuzzy bendable contrivances
analogous to an outsize pipe cleaner)
until she became a tweener
my Matty Mattel Doll (circa mid 1960's)
meant the webbed wide world  
with promise of much greener pastures
on the Apollo space age horizon
where virtual Oculus virtual reality dwelt
amongst Carib ****** indigenous tribes.

No matter yours truly then
fast approaching his decade number seven  
of twentieth century tantalizing
figurative future promises held sway
(namely technologically
Luddite intimations spawned),
I zealously, fervently,
and desperately clung
to battered Matty Mattel doll.

Any child with creative artistic bents
(including this scribe),
whose innate sensibilities and cents
severely limited me drawing
stick figures, more so dense
macabre satisfactorily applying
beard or mustache as stylish elements
applying magic marker to picture printed
faces forged into fences
of famous people popular
within culture club, both gents
or gals, whose retouched photographs
beggared ****** pents
sieve looming hair of men and women,
while simultaneously rents
sing preoccupied to access
excel lent glue, which caricatured outlook
devoid of common sense
I held said goofy looking doll
appeared contrived of household padding material,
and short scraps from circus tents
of yarn for do whit yourself based artisans
into trash bin of history project went.

Even than orange ranked as the new black
charming plaything sophistication did lack
plus batteries not required
to hear voice activated track.

This (think) abhor ridge gin null snippets
red + yellow colored strands
atop kepi twas pseudo hair,
sans manufactured eunuchs
adorned head lands
with avast capita lone linkedin
fingerhut dishabille curls,
could easily construct trolling grandstands
a similar facsimile re: globular molded,
incorporated, glommed,
fragile Ostrich egg shape
contrived head (vis a vis Plaster of Paris
overcovering NON GMO gluten free
partially hydrogenated brands
inflated balloon) to affect trademark
globular fuzzy noggin dry as Acklands.

The simple plain plaything included
a fitbit lifesaver size plastic ring
said small circular loop perfect “O”pening
to get jammed below first knuckle the King
Kong of index finger affixed to a short string
(when pulled to extent tub buckle did bring
taut tether) activated
moon face fixed bug eyed ping
pong blank stare to utter garbled syllables
asper one who nipped viz suckle something.

Despite the drabness, homeliness,
lacquered painted trapped
xyst Yarmulke cheap flatness,
I loved ragged slapped
around, and still iconic schlepped treasure
(uber voiceless with rapt
zealous application bridging elementary
functioning gizmo), initiating mapped
jabbering lock lipped absolute zero prattling.

Sometimes well worn action hero lapped
exhilaration, (got tossed in the air, booted
as football, succor silently accepted flapped
sear sucker punches from robed buck
after favorite fictitious "brother" chapped
accompanied my scrawny body
at bath time) to adapt.

Nonetheless, this adored
billed idol kept me secure,
especially on rare occasions
that found this contemplative lad, a lore
ring dutiful, fun loving kid
under the weather, or hospitalized for
minor adenoids removal,
which entailed post surgical recovery
swallowing quite a chore.

Oh yes, this non gendered plaything
nondescript featureless
sewn seams showed zero differentiation,
no matter to tell this August, cherished, fondled
kiddie piece de resistance lacked ****** identity.

Absent reproductive organs
(eh, nada so significant omission)
cuz, this seemingly resistant
quirky plaything, who unfairly re
ceived punishing physical
indiscriminate treatment, yet still
connection omnipotent bond existed
as if goofy guise happened
to be extended part of mine kempf.

Upon reflection, asper
childhood memento (nary a clue
what triggered remembrance
of things past yesterday comprised
true value), an aha moment awoke
to attempt to cap cha vague
essence about pretend friend designed in 1955,
and based on a concept by Mattel co-founder
Elliot Handler.

The character “Matty”
derived from the name Mattel.

The nom de plume a concatenation of sorts
derived after founders,
Harold Mattson and Elliot Handler.

A brainstorm session
yielded concurrence viz the hybrid name
of Matt + El (short for Elliot).

Foremost gratitude heavenly indebted,
jumbling kindling, linkedin mourning
numbness overlaid, pervaded, quashed,
routed thoroughly undermined vibrant
warbling, when xing yesterday's youth

zigzagging, accompanying blitzkrieg
cleaving deafeningly exploding,
formative grim homelife, indelibly
jabbing kid, (little me) nonstop,
overwhelming progeny, quintessentially

robbing, stunting, tormenting
unrelentingly vitality wrenching,
why xyst, zapping assiduousness,
begetting, crushing, destroying essential
fortitude, generating grievousness,

hellacious intractable joylessness,
kneading loneliness, murdering nascent
opportunistic potential, quiet, reserved,
timid, untested voiceless x years,
zilch accomplishments, boyhood

cheated, dieted, extremely famished,
gifted hirsute heir, ill, jettisoned
kippered lunkhead mealy mouthed,
nerdy, outlier psychologically quartered,
repressed self, tamped universal vitality,

withheld Xmas yearnings, zapped
animalistic basic cravings, denied
endeavoring fulfillment, gouged hole
inside, jawboned, kept lid mentally,
nixed opportunities, pronouncedly

quarantined, rabidly snatched tasting
ultimate vibrant x2c, yanked zipline,
aborting bequeathed capacity depriving
eats, forever ghosting hated individual,
jackknifing, kickstarting livingsocial

mortgaged, never ordained physical
quests, ruined self, thoughtfulness
vanquished, worthiness Xrayed,
yabadabadoo zone agitated
beyond crafting development,

executed firstrate glorious human,
impounded jailed kindred love,
manifested nebbish, obliged pleasing
quirky ridiculous travesty, unleashed

vapid wretchedness, xyz, attempted
bizarre concoction, decoding
essentially fruitless, go head issue
joker kick.

The missus asked me
(hitherto known as her bozo)
just mere moments ago
to craft humorous poem to glow
nsync with the shiny nose of Rudolph
keeping syncopated metrical flow
thus methought to crow
about being equally as foolish
streaking naked outside at five below
so without further here I go
rattling off gibberish as common Joe
King cole, a merry old soul...
dirt poor, hence without any dough
to embellish endeavor as literary pro,
who also sought to catch eye of Mister Perdue
(yea him of agribusiness fame)
to sacrifice self for New Year's barbecue.

Yours truly repurposed courtesy rigged
easy to assemble cannibalistic spit
with large fig leaf covering puny naughty bit
meekly (née willingly) surrendered
matter of fact, I paid with bitcoin chit
recognized latest currency
ever since legal tender easily susceptible
and oftimes confused as counterfeit
money forged, smelted, and hammered
linkedin with pendulum that swung within pit.

Thus analogous to
Five Chinese brothers immune
yours truly constituted
more'n one secret boon
such fiery flames (hot enough
to melt like molten rock)
could harm not a hair
of one **** sapien baboon
matter fact simian in question
could become swell

think hot air balloon
allowing, enabling and
providing me quick escape
national anthem playing
as most popular tune,
a capella, I simultaneous croon
as hot embers snap, pop, and crackle
token human crisply cooking
taking place at high noon
despite the most ferocious typhoon,
no worry, I defy being drowned

survival skills inherited
sophisticated quirky protozoa
symbiotic eukaryotes
since time immemorial
livingsocial within tight quarters
with not mushroom
to maneuver - oh... hold on,
cuz I will be done lame
reasonable rhyme really soon
ah... just about done
getting cooked the color maroon.

As will be accurately surmised, yours truly trends toward being atypical, basically comical dude, ethically fantastical, generally hemispherically intact, jokingly kooky, linguistically minded, nonestablishmentarian, opportunistic, poetic, quintessentially righteous, sartorially tacky, unpretentiously voluble, wittily xyst, yearningly zestful.

A written account (that incorporates some self directed hyperbole) of this veritable stranger now appears before your screen. Soon after reading this message, the neighbors might discern a blood curdling series of (hyena-like) shrieking screams. No worry. That would just be the mating call of the hairy Harris mama bear.

Ready! Set! Click!

A scary reflection greets me whenever I summon up enough steely courage to take a sneak peek into the mirror. Before the spider lines start to appear across the shiny surface and subsequent cracks and fissures dissolve the glassy surface these deux hazel colored, myopic bespectacled eyes quickly absorb a most frightful countenance and visage.

That near legendary and trademark feature of longish, wavy and brown straggly hair seems to fill the entire view. Hidden among that avant garde rhapsodic bohemian, Cro-Magnon, Neolithic, non-every-man style of un-styled locks (interspersed with silver follicles indicative of acquired worry per fighting off that garden variety prehistoric creature) can be discerned a brutish, nasty and short proto-human with a high forehead, which allows, enables and provides more skin surface to bang against the wall when frustrated.

My somewhat outsize ears and longish neck (I swear exist, which contrary to popular myth never seen by living persons) support this egg shaped (fried or scrambled some might argue) head.

A mostly flat and hairless chest attests to a regular regimen of light (self-concocted) chest-pounding routine. Exercise (as well as meditation) a vital part of my daily program to deal with the ordinary stresses of primitive existence. Coffee happens to be the sole vice, which exotic brews provide that helpful jump-start. I sometimes even chump on the cup to keep these teeth sharp.

Now to that locale known as the ****. Although the unseen forces of biology and genetics dealt me an itsy bitsy, tiny ***** (which serves as the but for fellow Apes to taunt and tease) such anatomical feature offers little value as the worthiness of ****** prowess. This palm pilot sized gluteus Maximus offers one benefit.

Ease to squeeze into tight spaces without getting stuck. This tiny ***** accompanied by a vestigial and teeny-weensy ****** schnitzel of a phallus, which undersized **** a doodle do bulges into an erectile state within shooting distance of that coveted warm, wet and wooly private world property of each and every woman.

A pair of skinny (flamingo like) legs (covered in a adequate hair) now completes this general character sketch.

Does this suffice? After attempting to envision some vague essential apparition or near facsimile of what barely passes muster as a Caucasian male, I wonder if you happen to be less or more favorably disposed toward some healthy interaction of body, mind and spirit.

If not yourself, I wonder if you know if any local cave woman close to unit B44? Maybe great ape as yourself to make grunting noises with me?

Now if you would politely excuse me, I MUST scavenge for some berries, exotic tree bark or that stray small and wild game.

Contact me via banging rocks together asap.