The Shuns of Life

THE SHUNS OF LIFE
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS


This poor bloated woman, after nine months of inflamation
Dropped me off at the maternity ward, a brand new creation
She ejected me without a second thought or hesitation
Unburdening her of guilt and pain and utter frustration
Being slapped from the, git go, I felt great consternation
Losing a cozy warm home, sans any warning or indication
My first appearance naked and crying, what an indignation
I blasted out my cries and sobs in boisterous determination


Those years with soiled diapers an utter abomination
Learning to talk and  walk no thought, just imitation
Squeezing into bed with mom n dad causing alienation
Playing by myself taught me the art of improvisation
Into kindergarten against my will gave isolation
Things began to fall into place, as I learned assimilation
Learning new techniques and clever application
Achieving n receiving genuine parental adoration


Off to college to widen and improve my education
Often side tracked by gigantic breasted flirtations
Graduated with my girl, who ceased her ovulation
Should have been more prudent, that summer vacation
All that led to my being a dad, what an aberration
Several more missteps, I started my own aggregation
With some many mouths to feed, forget a vacation
I had to work day and night to avoid starvation


Absence left little time for passionate conjugation
My spouse found another to fill her expectation
My offspring despised me due to espousal indoctrination
Ousted from the house, but, still to provide compensation
Resources for two households excessive augmentation
Lost employment due to physical n moral degradation
Unable to pay my obligations caused legal condemnation






SHUNS (2)




I melted under pressure leading to excessive libations
I had rousing orgies and bacchanalian celebrations
Spent all of my coins engaging in primal satisfactions
While on my last bash I committed the last of distractions
On the street in a delusional stupor, I failed to take action
Run over, killed, by an intoxicated fool in a state of confusion

I’m in a narrow, dark and damp cave, awaiting adjudication
My travel plans under discussion determining direction
Will it be up or down, judges huddled in silent deliberation
Sentence is given: return to purgatory, a renewed visitation
Back to earth, to continue my trial, searching exoneration 
So it’s back to the womb to cease her bloated inflamation

I now wonder, how many times afore have I made excursions
Onto the planet usually described in calamitous dispersions
Is it possible that I met myself, while in another version		
Well now that I think on it, the event deja vu, a repetition
Do we repeat the event or seek a different revision
An alternate outcome could provide a new exploration

Copyright © John Arribas | Year Posted 2017

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