The curtain on the
CPAC convocation rolls back,

as the revolution
in Tahrir Square boils.

America’s theater
of deadly political

absurdity commences;
to witness demagogues

recite holy scripture to
evangelize a religion of war.

A heavily invested
audience marvels

at the marionettes
pirouetting on strings

jigged along by hands
of invisible puppet-masters

donning dark masks of
clever 503C llcs

disguised in self serving
hues of red, white and blue.

This grand folly of masquers
conceals a fatal pantomime,

a cast of reactionary characters,
Neo-Conmen auditioning for

the leading role in a lurid play
of a deadly nation projecting
a dying imperial preeminence.

The martinets engage zero
sum games where the victor
belongs to the despoilers,

and the merchants of death
richly confer multimillion dollar
reasons for being, underwriting
the gilded egos of candidates

and their infatuation with the
vanity of feigned power.

These master rhetoricians
skillfully lather up the crowd

by pandering to basest
xenophobic nationalist
instincts and fantasies
of laissez-faire proclivities.  

Slathering on the partisan
pretense in layers so thick

a master chef, armed
with the sharpest Ginsu Knife

couldn't slice a hock tip
of blood red meat

hurled into the crowd of
gobbling Republicons

howling and yodeling
it’s derisive acclaim.

The rankled party line,
gibberish talking points

are hammer blows of
incessant propaganda,

so cocksure that any room for
doubt is crowded out by the

phantasmagorical McMansions
of hyperbole they ***** in

the pliant minds of their
gibbering minions.

The candidates preening for
president show off their

falangist affectations
in eager duels of oratorical

one upmanship; constantly
jockeying to outflank their

other Neo-Conmen opponents,
always concluding their brutish

diatribes with a solemn
denouement of a Republicon

psalm ending with a
Holy Hosanna Hallelujah

to the Ronald Reagan
Heavenly Buddha.

Punchline of the holy Amen
“what would Reagan do?”

to remind the faithful
to remain the faithful

bearers to the fiction
of dead Reaganism.

Evoking anything
Ron and Nancy

induces sanctioned
comportment of a

slow simmering
******* eubellence

providing a welcomed
relief of repressed
libidinal energy.

The mention of Goldwater
sends GOP acolytes to

pause in reverence,
envisioning Barry and

Ronnie looking down
from heaven upon the gathered,

inciting immediate ruminations
of falling dominos and

the viability of a
tactical nuke strike

against Ayatollah’s
underground
uranium factories.

The host of Neo-Conmen,
new age Falangist pitchmen

belch from the dais,
in ever increasing alacrity,

the stirring drum beats
and slick videos,

of glorious warriors
winning the battlefield

with the rippling glory
of the Stars and Stripes

flowing in a continual
loop behind them.

Romney,
Bachmann

Gingrich
take center stage,

goose stepping
to the roll of piercing timpanis.

Words slither
out of their mouths
like poisonous snakes.

Lies, hiss through
their teeth.

Open mouths
expose Black Mamba
fangs, dripping with venom.

Eyes squint
as their reptilian brains

implore the besieged
to flee from the
light of truth.

Seeking refuge in fear;
yet on the ready

to coil and strike;
while trembling

in ignorance,
exalting loathsomeness

worshiping violence;
they remain

poised to unleash
first strike armies;

boastfully evoking moral
platitudes of Bush Doctrine
prerogatives.

Trembling in ignorance
worshiping violence

exalting fear,
these dogs of war bay

to unleash armies
against the

Godless apostates
that threaten

to expose the
stasis of their

Capitalismo-Judeo-Christian
view of the world.

They have hijacked
the great faith traditions

to serve a narrow
political aim

and relish any
opportunity to

demonize Islam
in service to their lies.

Watch as they
they crouch down

on the dais to
open the nest

of vipers welling
deep within the
bowels of their souls.

They find relief
by excreting their

spawn of deadly asps
into the veins of

cable news networks;
scoring political points

with the terrorized
children of Faux News

capturing battalions
of straw men villains

to rise atop meaningless
straw polls.

They agitate for a second
American revolution

by injecting the venom
of fear and lies

into the body
politic.

Ron Paul
stands alone,

perplexed why
American's love

war as much as
they hate civil liberties?

Cheney and
Rumsfeld brood.

The people of
Iraq and Afghanistan

fail to embrace their armies
of liberation that run up

unfortunate collateral damage
body counts required to sustain
the American way of life.

Ever the defender of
democracy and liberty,

Gingrich slams Obama's
condemnation of Suleiman

"hes an able diplomat."
Gingrich  forgot to add

that Suleiman is a
skilled torturer and

an able tyrant any self
serving democracy would
be proud to call ally and friend.

Cheney and Rumsfeld
remain flummoxed.

Their armies of liberation bogged
down in the marshy Blackwaters

of intractability;  trying to solve
the conundrum of the diminished

equity returns of asymmetrical
warfare.  Spinning the math

to justify building aircraft carriers
to **** a gnat.

The families of dead soldiers
surround them and wave dime

store flags hoping the plastic
eagle remains fixed atop the pole.

Perpetually smiling
Michele Bachmann
raises the specter
of Muslim Brotherhoods
taking over Egypt.

The persecution of Christians
and the escalating war on

Christianity have the Crusaders
up on their seats waving Excalibur
once again.

Gingrich pink cheeks
flush with the cash

of a Zionist casino
entrepreneur

doubles down, stacks
his chips high.

“The Israeli Embassy
in Cairo was overrun
by angry mobs.”  

“Is this a precursor of
cancelling the peace treaty
signed with Sadat?”

“The pullout in Iraq hands the country to
radical Shiites effectively handing our
hard won victory to Iran.”

“Israel is threatened and will not
permit Iran to acquire nuclear

weapons. A nuclear empowered Iran
will not stand!”

“We mustn't let do nothing Obama
threaten the safety of our good ally
Israel.”

CPAC willingly holds the deadly asp
to the breast of a proud nation.

Urging, coaxing it to gently sink
its teeth into the sacred heart
of our dear republic...

John Lee ******
Crawlin King Snake

CPAC 2011

Matthew 23
Brood of Vipers


jbm
Oakland
2/10/11

1.

When I
was young
I listened to
Billy the Kid

I galloped
across the
living room floor
giddy upping
in an ecstatic
square dance
with my beloved
America

excitedly
enraptured
boundlessly
enthralled
in youthful
zeal
ebulliently  
yodeling
hymns
whistling
reveries to
America’s
heroic prairie
songs

a precocious
kinder beaming  
moved and illumined
by the broiling fanfare
of trilling trumpets

to uphold the promise
I pledged allegiance
to diligent  work
galloping onward
on ponies of
reverent faith
respectful duty
playful engagement
and guardianship

2.

expectation
never fell short
of resounding
supranaturalistic
optimism

energising
the sweep of
a nation’s
self evident
exceptionalism

our democratic
vista stirred
and steeped

a nation of
wheelwrights
building
wagon trains
to traverse
stratified latitudes
with sturdy ladders
erected with common
sense sensibility
of hands to work
and hearts to God

earthen
yeoman
dancing in
wheat fields
threshing sheaves
of prosperity
their exertions
elevating
families
raising
a glorious chorus,
a peeling crescendo
of horns of plenty
splayed across
landscapes of
an ennobled
nation
placing fruits
of labor upon
ascendent
alters to
to receive
the anointing
of abundance

the lighted grace
of infinite possibilities
shines for a grueling
world listening to the
clamouring drumbeats
sounding in the hearts
of all grace anointed
republicans


3.  

No lullabies
no quiet moonlit nights
we ardently
dance on keys
boasting soul
filled dexterity
the quick self
assuredness
extemporaneously
jazz tapping
across bold
hidden rondos
grasping
transcendence
squarely set
in the minds eye
of unbroken resolve
our cool countenance
an unassailable
righteous destination

any
spare sweeping
plaintive introspection
lends space to
affirm
an
affirmation
beginning
with the individual
unum to e pluribus

solitary dancers
incorporated into
fully enfranchised
troopers

the gyrations
the rhythms and steps
of individuated melodies
join to form a harmonious whole
a beautifully woven consensus

this democratic symphony
perfected in an intelligent
choreography of
separate people
sojourning  
toward
a mutually
constructed
shared destiny

aspirational desires
call forth generations
of spirits boldly engaging
the challenges upholding
the rights and privilege
of all citizens
the celebratory harvest
of a new nations
natural law


4.

As a man
I cruise
along
Main Street
in a joyless
joy ride
gliding by
disassembled
factories
moldering schools
defunct governments

surveying the
demolished ruins
of cities,
the decrepit
wrecking ball
of history
is busy,
rolling through
towns
not worthy
of cast iron
destruction
forged in
foreign kilns

we built palaces
to democracy
in the tiniest hamlets
dotting the granges
wholly assimilated
into a national congress
of freemen

today our
congress
is scattered
dialog seeking
resolution is considered
betrayal to holy
partisanship...

selfish insistence
masquerades as
high ideals

portraiture
of obstinance
is a grotesque
reflection
of virtue

we have
reduced
the peoples
house

to a battlefield
for tribes…..

once freemen
now captives….

soulless ghosts
wandering lost
inside grand
rotundas...

mocked
by murals
and inert
granite statuary
howling
expiration dates
of timeless
psalms

sojourning
the trail of tears
drinking from bowls
of anguish

our only
respite
the silent
ruins we
find impossible
to leave

fear fills our bellies
rust stains our hearts
abiding acrimony
ain’t easily brushed
from dust laden cloths

the deconstruction
of dead cities, mark
expired civilizations
centuries in the making
hammered by the blows
of the mightiest blacksmiths
with precision and deft craft


5.

the spareness of
Martha Graham's set
frame black shadows
of fortitude

it always starts
with the individual

then surely
sure footedness
measured footsteps
boldly dance about
the lily pads
of the keyboard
a resounding ballet
the arms wave
like swaying stalks of wheat
but hurry to respond
opportunity knocks
conditions change
the group awaits
to be joined

my pirouette
remains my solitary mark
on the weaving spindles
crafting the mosaic
of a complex American
complexion

the possibility
the promise
laid before us
wheat fields
of democracy
tilled planted
attended

the wondrous yields of
an Appalachian Spring
the promise
hectare of grace
apportioned to all
citizens

the promise
harvest of liberty
freedom
of opportunity
all anointed
freemen
conferred an
amazing grace

civil discourse
was once spoken
we can learn the
lost languages again
sitting on the porch
with neighbors
sipping ice tea
sharing thoughts on
hot summer evenings
caring too care

but scoundrels
became heroes
we fetishized
idiosyncrasies
of insisted
entitlement

we ******
the whole by
exalting the part

we dare not condemn them
lest we condemn ourselves




6.

the west was once woolly wild
I hear the sweeping sound
of my youth rustle again
the dramatic symphony
of a brilliant people
filled with courage
undeterred optimism
claiming a continent
manifesting a new
Pax Americana
a century
of immigrants  

coming to integrate
coming to assimilate
coming to believe in the promise
coming to make a new promise

I came to hear Copland
when I was young

when America was young
when promises were made
and sworn by a brilliant
fanfare of trumpets

when America was young
Copland composed
when America was young
a promise was made

come forth brothers
come forth sisters
come claim
the promise
of a simple gift


Aaron Copland:
Billy The Kid

11/29/11
Oakland
jbm

******* my comeuppance.
There's a lot of boring here

Learning new text
Fighting new 'plex
And settling into no other

Life as a smattered painting
Galaxy's attempt at recreation
Correctional institutions of cellular disillusions

Peeing off the side of the golden gate to create a meta golden gate
Ships sail underneath my toxins.

Vulgarity for clarity and cleverness for its sake.
Drown myself in intoxication and say things in it's wake.

Welcome to life post life. Welcome to a lonely impasse. Welcome to a place that God desires, let's hope it will soon pass.

The
Decider-in-Chief
made
another
hard
decision,
rebebilitatin
a debilitating
Gaddafi.

The
Agog
Decider
sleekly
peeked
into the
bleak
soul
of the
master
Bedouin.

The
Pious
Decider
peered
pretty
deeply,
so its
hard to tell
what his
arcane
rebelations
revealed.

Some say
The
Jaundiced
Decider,
saw the
desert
bleeding
deliciously
malicious
sweet crude
onto the
scabby
tongues
of
Halliburton
Executives
while
Big Time
Vice
Dickey Boy
******
a petrol
nozzle
dry,
licking
the dripped
drops
that
drizzled
from the
shoot
hole,
so as
not to waste
a precious drop
to satiate
the black
viscous
goo
coursing
through
the ebony
veins of his
chingling
heart.

Others
say
The
Condoning
Decider
sized up
the man
and saw
a brother-in-arms
in the fight
against
The Evil Doers;
yet failed to
see the
revolting
obscenities
his new
comrade-in-arms
inflicted
upon his
own body
politic.

The
Forgetful
Decider,
blessed
with amnesia
forgot
Lockerbie and
applauded
BP's royal
court of
justice
for
pardoning
all perps.

The
Oblivious
Decider's
near
sightedness
failed to
foresee
a brewing
blow-back
amassing
in the
desert
winging
its way
home
on the
blasting
sands of
a blistering
Saharan
sirocco.

The
Pollyannish
Decider
envisioned
g­rand
spectacles,
only happy
visions of
Beyonce,
JZ, Usher
and the
Def Jam
Buddha
Russell
Simmons
yodeling
filthy
lucre
tunes,
sending
g­iggling
tweets
while
partying
down
with
Muammar's
posse
of martinets
and
way cool
far out
crazy
execs
drunk
with the
power
that blinds
the eye to
all discernment.

The Decider
decides.

Music Selection:
Lady Ga Ga
Beyonce,
Telephone

Oakland
3/3/11
jbm

Its 8:30 in the AM
The Corn Moon
is being routed by a
Manassas cloud bank

NPR be barking
Irma this, Irma that
my tremblin Rav4
stuck in the rush
is idling behind
a pair of gray hairs
spewing
leaded premium
out the back
of a big old black Buick
sportin Florida tags

inching north up I95
I’m relieved to be
a thousand miles
ahead of the
monstrous *****
denuding Barbuda
deflowering the
****** Islands
and threatening to topple
the last vestiges of
Castro’s Dynasty
by disrupting upscale
bourgeois markets
for cafe Cubanos,
cool Cohibas and
bold Bolivars

she’s a CAT 5
counterclockwise
spinning catastrophe
churning through
the Florida straits
bending steel framed
Golden Arches
shaking the tiki shacks
gobbling lives
defiling tropical dreams

the best
meteorological minds
on the Weather Channel
plug the Euro model
to plot a choreography
of Irma’s cyclonic sashay

they predict she’ll
strut her stuff
up a runway  
that perfectly
dissects the  
Sunshine State
ransacking
the topography
venting carnage
like battalions of
badly behaved frat boys,
schools of guys gone wild
sophomores, wreaking havoc
during a Daytona Beach
spring break
droolin over *******
popping woodies at
wet tee shirt contests
urinating on doorstoops
puking into Igloo Coolers
and breaking their necks
from ill advised
second floor leaps
into the shallow end
of Motel 6 pools

but I’m rolling north
into the secure
arms of a benign
Mid Atlantic Summer
like other refugees,
my trunk is
filled with baggage
of fear and worry
wondering
if there’re be anything
left to return to
once Irma
has spent herself
with one last
furious ****
against the
Chattanooga Bluffs of
Lookout Mountain

Morning Edition
Is yodeling a common
seasonal refrain
the gubmint is
just about outta cash
congress needs to
increase the debt limit

My oh my,
has the worm turned
during the Obama years
the GOP put us through a
Teabag inspired nightmare
gubmint shutdowns
and sequestration
shaved 15 points
off every war profiteers vig
it gave a well earned
long overdue
take the rest of the week off
unpaid vacation
to non essential
gubmint workers
while a cadre of
wheelchair bound
Greatest Generation
military vets get
locked out of the
WWII Memorial on the
National Mall

this time around
its different
we have an Orange Hair
in the office and there's
some hyper sensitivity
to raise the debt ceiling
given that Harvey
has yet to fully
drain from the
Houston bayous

the colossal cleanup
from that thrice in a
Millennial lifetime storm
has garnered bipartisan support
to  clean up the wreckage
left behind by a
badly behaved
one star BnB lodger
who took a week
long leak into the
delicate bayous of
Southeast Texas

yet we are infused
with optimism that our
Caucasian president
and his GOP grovelers
now mustered
to the Oval Office
will slow tango
with the flummoxed
no answer Dems
to get the job done

pigs do fly in DC
Ryan and McConnell
double date with
Pelosi and Schumer
get to heavy pettin
from front row seats
beholding droll  
Celebrity Apprentice
reruns

The Donald, Nancy and Chuck
slip the room for a little
menage au trois side action
transforming Mitch and Paul
into vacillating voyeurs
who start jerking their dongs
while POTUS, and his
new found friends
get busy workin
the art of a deal

rush hour peaks
static traffic grows
in concert with
a swelling  
frenetic angst
driving drivers
to madness
terrified
they won't
get paid if
the debt ceiling
don't rise
they honk horns
rev engines
thumb iPhones
and sing out
primal screams

unmindful drivers
piloting Little Hondas
bump cheap Beamers
start a game of
bumper cars
dartin in and out
of temporary gaps
uncovered by the
spastic fits and starts
of temporary
decongested
ebbs and flows

A $12 EZ Pass
gambit is offered
the fast lane
on ramp
has few takers
just another
pick your pocket
gubmint scheme
two express lanes
lie vacant
while three lanes of
non premium roadway
boast bumper to bumper
inertness
wasted fuel
declining productivity
skyrockets
the  wisdom of
the invisible hand doesn't
seem to be working

DOJ bureaucrats
In Camrys and Focuses
dial the office
to let somebody
know they’ll
be tardy

gubmint contractors in
silver Mercedes begin
jubilantly honking horns
NPR has just announced that
Pelosi and Schumer
joined the Orange team
the rise in the debt ceiling
will nullify their 15%
sequestration pay cut

NPR reports the
National Cathedral will
deconsecrate two hallowed
stained glass windows of
rebel generals R E Lee
and Stonewall Jackson
it's a terrible shame that
the Episcopal Church
will turn its back on the
rich Dixie WASPS
who commissioned these
installations to commemorate
the church's complicity
in sanctifying the
institution of slavery,
WWJD?

as I ponder
this Anglican
conundrum another
object arrests my
streaming consciousness
upsetting an attention span
shorter and less deep
than the patch of oil  
disappearing under the front
of the RAV as I thunder by
at 5 MPH

to the left I eye a
funny looking building
standing at attention
next to a Bob Evans

I’m convinced
Its gotta be CIA
a 15 story
gubmint minaret
a listening post
wired to intercept
mobile digital
confabulations
from crawling traffic
inching along
beneath its feet

this thinking node
pulsing with
intelligence
reeking with
counterintelligence
the tautological
contradiction
guarantees the
stasis of our
confused
national consciousness

strategically positioned to
tune into the
intractable Zeitgeist
culling meta code
planting data points
In Big Data
data farms
running algos
to discern bits
of intelligence
endeavoring to reveal
future shock trends
knows nothing
reveals less

the buildings cover
is its acute
conspicuousness
gray steel frame
silver tinted glass
multiple wireless antennas
black rimmed windows
boldly proclaim
any data entering
this cheerless edifice
must abandon all hope
of ever being framed
in a non duplicitous
non self serving sentence

the gray obelisk a
national security citidel
refracts the
fear and loathing
the sprawling
global anxiety
our civilization's
discontent
playing out
in the captive
soft parade
ambling along
the freeway jam
imobilized
at its stoop

Moning Edition jingle
follows urgent report of
FEMA scamblin assets
arbitraging Harvey and Irma
triaging two
tropical storm tragedies
and a third girl
just named Maria
pushed off the Canaries
and is on its way to a
Puerto Rico
homecoming

while
gubmint  bureaucrats
anxiously push on
to their soulless offices
the rush hour jam
has peaked
my WAZE
is having a
nervous breakdown

next lane over
a guy in a gold PT Cruiser
is banging on his steering wheel
don’t think this unessential worker
will win September's
civil servant of the month award

Ex Military
K Street defectors
slamming big civie
Hummers
getting six mpg
lobby for a larger
apportionment
of mercenary dollars
for Blackwater's
global war on terror

Prius Hybrids
silently roll on
politely driven by
EPA Hangers On
hoping to save
a bit of the planet
from an Agency Director
intent on the agency's
deconstruction
the third 500 year hurricane
of the season
is of no consequence

obsolete
GMC Jimmy’s
are manned by
Steve Mnunchin
wannabes
the frugal
treasury dept
ledger keepers
pour good money after bad
to keep the national debt
and there clanking
jalopies working

driving Malibus
DOL stalwarts
stickin with the Union
give biz to GMC

nice lookin chicks
young coed interns
with big daddy doners
fix their faces and
come to work
whenever they want

my *** is killing me
I squirm in my seat
to relieve my aching sacroiliac
and begin to wonder if my name
will appear on some
computer printout today?
can’t afford an IRS audit
maybe my house will
be claimed by some
eminent domaine landgrab?
Perhaps NSA
may come calling,
why did I sign that
Save The Whales
Facebook Petition?

The EZ Pass lane
is movin real easy
mocking the gridlock
that goes all the way
to Baltimore
a bifurcated Amerika
is an exhaust spewing
standing condemnation
to small “R”
republicanism  

glint from windshields
is blinding
my **** is hurtin and
gettin back to Jersey
gunna take a while
GPS recalcs arrival time

an intrepid Lyft driver
feints and dodges
into the traffic gaps
drivin the shoulder
urging his way to the
Ronnie Reagan International
I'm sure
gettin heat from
a backseat fare
that shoulda pinged
an hour earlier

Irma creeps
toward the Florida Keys
faster then the
glacial jam
befuddling congress

I think I just spotted
Teabag Patriot
Grover Norquist
manning a rampart
bestriding a highway overpass
he’s got a clipboard in hand
checking the boxes
counting cars
taking names
who’s late?
who’s unessential?

man
whatta jam we're in

Music Selection:
Jeff Beck: Freeway Jam

Orlando
9/21/17
jbm

Sunshine, spice and spades.
Butterfly's, beards and bread.

Yellow, yearbooks and yodeling.
Paint, pizza and platinum.

Music, melons and magic.
Zoos, zippers and zillions.

Apples, analysis and art.
Waiting, wagons and wafflers.

Give me a beer with friends any day.
Life's more fun that way.

Mama's got a Squeeze Box

every night after dinner
mama goes into the parlor
she opens up her case
and pulls out her Horner

she taps her toes
and pulls and pushes
in and out the air moves
as she sits there in the corner

the tunes are reminiscent
of the times gone past
all that's missing is the oompah
all night long and daddy can't sleep

German and Austrian
no yodeling is heard
daddy's wasting his time
trying to count the sheep

cause mama won't stop
the music's in her blood
she like her squeezebox
poor daddy doesn't so much
  
Gomer LePoet ...

The hills of music
The loudness
Of Brilliant
Beauty
Her yodeling
reminds
Me of
A
Singing
Scenery
The yodeling
Christens
Heights
The peace
Behind
the mountains
Brings
The solace
Of Many
years
That may bring
Constellations
With wintry stars
Snowing
Soulfully

After time words blur, an absurd slurring cures worried attachments to them,
and when I catch that nonsense by letting it go suddenly the flow flourishes raining over my sustainable poetry planted long ago.

I bloom, the shrooms cue music encoded in the OM, a place called home for me, where stones can be bass drums thumping heartbeat rhythms.

Something slithers, something withers; the darkness as I spark this campfire light house announcing all pirate ships can dock around my mountain.

I shout shenanigans like zippy dippy do dah while yodeling love as the wind bends my words above as below like a yoga pose around the world.

Exposure Therapy

     A figurative light shines on me (courtesy of Pink Floyd), no matter I live on the dark side of the moon like another brick in the wall, and rarely present thyself stark naked sans emotionally. The metier viz modus operandi of writing (poetry seems to edge ahead of other structures) allows, enables and provides with utmost exhiliration, infatuation, lumination, et cetera an opportunity to test (dis)comfort zones. Hence carefree foray induces loosing oppressive repressed unvented xanax albatross drugged gewgaws, jetisonned (via Jetson propelled Segway) means producint resplendent unfettered x2c.

      I became habituated, insulated, jackknifed with non-healthy, destructive behavior cultivated detrimental habits disallowing natural maturation of body, mind, and spirit, which this middle aged mwm now more fervently revisits, remonstrates, and recapitulates when attempting to explain to thyself or another, how bing figuratively tethered to the apron strings o' me late mum promulgated, narrated, and licensed to avast quantity of active listeners, the self made parent trap (albeit synonymous with an invisible umbilical cord that well nigh strangled satisfactory quality of life.

     Thus culled from me lately (countless decades when within fledgling offspring, the progeny evince metamorphosis that display heavenly lottery phenomenal tinder phase linkedin DNA when processes of puberty per purring prestidigitation when mine deus darling daughters developed into divine dames) instilled, jolted, kickstarted personal quest to broach me interpersonal/ social comfort zones.

     The presence of generalized anxiety (with attendant debilitating panic attacks) ******, foiled, highjacked journey to experience ordinary sensate human bonding never took place.

     I copiously deprived, emotionally fleeced, gamely hocked innumerable joyous kissably leavening male natural ordinary processes qua ramping sundry transitions ushering vital wings yodeling zen attainment. emotional, physical, social discoveries visa vis via blockaded, deprived, forfeited, hamstrung inoculated je nais sais quois electric kool aid acid test disallowing, barring,

depressing, forsaking growing **** Sapiens trajectory toward autonomy free self destructive hermetically sealed reign.

     Otherwise, thru avoidance behavior, clamped down eponymous flapping gums, this now middle aged baby boomer believes he cheated himself, injuriously jarred kidnapped legendary manifold noble savage traits ushering vital willpower yawping zealous adulthood.

Said physiological, integral, hormonal, germinal, fantastical, external, developmental, capitalone entourage fumbled mine kempf outlook predicated unanimously withheld Mortal Kombat from finagled grim-faced hoodlums, whence thine smarting, roiling, quivering psyche broke LivingSocial will power to remain alive, thus surrendering StarWars shield, essentially via nixed invisible IdentityGuard, undermined re: self defeatedly favorable growth, when thy prepubescent self firmly believed he hermetically sealed, guarded, buffered, himself against nasty, meanly lampooning, cruelly brutal bullies when in truth he merely annihilated, boobytrapped, bolloxed against learning to deal with dangerous enfilades fired, and essentially a uselessly futile coping mechanism.

     Quest diagnostic codified by yours truly incorporates initiating, kibitzing, and making odious quirkiness stamping utterly worthless yikyaks axed. Courageousness employed grappling ingeniously

kickstarting my nifty operation quintessentially rallying strength to utter verbal warbling, especially when espying a guy or gal donned with dreadlocks.

     Inexplicable to myself why a plethora of persons (constituting various generations) attire themselves with the lengthy process to braid, maintain, and wear follicles in such a fashion most attribute to Rastafarians.

     No matter what the reason or rhyme (whether with or without sense and sensibility, yet inculcated with pride without prejudice), a fascination with curiosity asper men, women, and/or children sporting a headful sprouting knotted ropy plaits sets the impetus sans this non establishmentarian chap to inquire what influenced him/her to impress the trademark dreadlocks. Each person usually offers little objection asper what influenced such a predilection.

     Upon conniving, daring, egging, et cetera this quintessentially respectable son, the unsuspecting gal or guy ruminating about some purchase, I nonchalantly assay, foray, sashay...and issue a positive comment about their snake like confection of locked tresses.

     Most interaction with persons previously unbeknownst to me launch into a harried styled and swiftly tailored explanation.

     Poetic and/or prosaic concoctions, confections, coiled connotations configuring confusing confabulations representative of mine unsettled psychological state, which (aking to purging) oft times erupts without any sense nor sensibility, neither pridefulness, though prejudice against victorious vanquished wicked yoked zealousness toward unhealthy behavious linkedin with a nada so good and plenti outlook.

Firstly, it's the second month of the year.
Ends most on 28th, and some 29th on leap year.
Brings more love every fourteenth, too.
Restaurants are full with people of two.
Uber cabs hover here and beep over there.
A chaos of talks, no gossips to hear.
Right space, perfect time only for myself.
Yodeling beats which I see to bluff.

this got written x years ago
behoves this update version of a bozo
christened sans parents
   playing eeny meeny miny moe,

yet upon tiring of game with a no
   nonsense attitude
   eventually decided on Not Nada Poe
Whit - Walt har vee gong to call So and So?

Now, you probably wonder and ask
yarself y am.i. On a wishy washy
web site - far tis to bask
in offline and/or online friendship

as like quaffing from a flask
with no deliberate intent
   to antagonize nor mask
n e hidden agenda -
   quite a challenging task.

Thus, i turn the question back 2 u,
per what spurred posting/responding too
and might there be interest
with me - n average hue

man male - hoping
   4 an acquaintance brand new
from - this barred bard -
   scot **** matthew.

Dis ***** older buck haint gonna take a byte
so...no need to take fright
i merrily scout cyber seas donning
me virtual webbed whirled wide wet suit to brook

a female friendship countless
   adult oriented web site
such as ashleymadison, badoo, craigslist, elitemate,
plenty of fish tagged twoo,

or other venue left of the political right
and if absolutely positively unquestioningly
without subatomic particle of interest
than please just respond albeit and try to be polite...

good morning, noon, or night
quite
right
to be guarded when an acquaintanceship
   begins out of sight

whereby data bit bump and grind
   thru the information super
   highway somewhat tight
and bring x rated epistles to life that i write.

Ma arch i bald dingbats of fingas clip by
at greased lightening speed
justa friendship this poor fella doth need
an accommodating gal to offer a lead
mien eyes did not purposely heed

nor any greed
from one suppurating marriage
this guy wants to be freed
with no malice this cheap tricking
   super tramping wordsmith
of inxs ac of dc charged cheap tricks
sans done ***** deed.

This impersonator qua sometime bard of yore
admits to his apology
if ye get taken totally abominable
like bar rammy aback

to proposition ye with carnal desires in store
and ideally match deeds ease with these words
towards such strong desire to adore
forsooth that naked realm

to allow the noggin to bore
together in close syncopation like couplet core
and would now gently encourage
his newfound muse

to let me dip me quill in
   iambic pentameter du jour
a wordsmith who shies away
drinking *** or smoking *****.

Now with a zing
i step into the digital xing
via summit da fall low wing
written jest to byte tongue in cheek
yet unsure if zee phone here will ring

or an unexpected gold plated invitation
after the yodeling ding
in an effort to hear that pleasant
yet discordant musical ka -- ching
for cherished pennies,
   nickels, dimes, nickle back
et cetera from heaven to bring.

Twiddling me fir and twenty black bird
shaped like a green thumb
as me schmart simian Semitic ****
gets comfortably numb

after quaffing
   humongous amount of ***
while downing oral rob hurts
   sesame street pudding

made of pureed plum
unlike jack in the corner
   my luck mooch oh more glum
and despite ****** stubble here
and there a stale crumb
this har dabbler in words haint no ***
only a hard knock er skool alum.

from thee one and only almighty
alfred e. neuman king crusty crab crumb son Rodg
er alias scott matthews - whose words
   intended as playful persiflage

if curious to learn more about me
   emanating from cranial lodge
   unless no auto mat tick interest arises -
   whence this reply u can dodge.