Apoplectic Poems

Folderol Gallimaufry

At the risk of coming off turgid
I offer this tale esoteric
Hoping it’s not found insipid
Nor causes one to be apoplectic
But rather received with alacrity
Without the need for paroxysm
My word there’ll be no chicanery
And avoidance of anachronism
Far from being sesquipedalian
Nor need for any razzmatazz
The tale of the slubberdegullion
Who thought himself full with pizzazz
Though being so supercilious
His affect stirred only dudgeon
Any good was so very fugacious
From this untoward tatterdemalion
Yet still he persisted a mumpsimus
If you will, and worse a panjandrum
So aggravating and rumbustious
Redeeming qualities not a modicum
An unquestioned snollygoster
Given to being quite vagary
An ill-reputed hugger-mugger
And a voice of such cacophony
But I see that you are insouciant
And consider my warning malarkey
Since you wish to be recalcitrant
My apologies for being persnickety
I end my tale of the rapscallion
Without further ado or rigmarole
Avoiding becoming ultracrepidarian
I have met my supererogatory parole

Headstone

Life may be hullabaloo now,
Perhaps apoplectic,
Conceivably cuckoo,
Or it feels like the
World is ending,
Apocalyptic,
But maybe—
Just maybe,
Someday 
I'll be me,
Happy and free,
Like a ballerina 
In a tedious tutu. 
In the end,
All I want—
Just one thing—
Just one— 
Inscribed on
My headstone
“ I have loved,
  I have lived”

Tethered by Eternity

Bound by the curse arise from inception,
Tethered was my fate,with this ruthless salvation_
Despair got this hand through the reality' shade;
Despite being apoplectic your glint never fades..

Redirected were your sights, only on this influence 
While the rumbling glares got healed through your calm incandescence_
"Hey god", if you can feel the sanity of my heart!
Then confront this query of mine, why keep us apart?

A voice filled with allurance, ringed through them,
Out of his sympathy,his words commenced_
Distanced by your fate,will reunite through love;
On that eccentric night your souls will descend
Let life be witness,when hands annex above. 
The thread with you bound by will come to an end..

Along with the compromises,the pact had been made
They both did agree with what the god said, 
Point off the window the child interrogates-
Mom, can you tell me why the moonlight fades?
Mother answered,"That's what we call a lunar Eclipse!",
In which those two bodies meet defying the nemesis.

Poetic Apocalypse

It's the apocalypse of the antipoetic,
some are apoplectic, instead of apologetic,
this is no diplomatic 'dead poet's society',
but the anxiety results in notoriety,
increasing dubiety for word weaving variety.
The grammar police pursue like the four horsemen,
trying to silence my poetic garden's endorphins.
Pouring petrol upon my enchanted petals,
burning the rain, before sweet petrichor settles,
so onyx skies, thundering cries and lullabies,
slay my sentiments like premature butterflies.
Where is my dark angel friend to protect my quill,
before I double down on poetic forms against free will.
When creativity is silenced it's a suicide of speech,
a hypocritical rhetoric is not what hallowed halls teach.
Wizardry of words have no hoodoo or voodoo on your muse,
write about love's labyrinth, rage or life in a way you choose.
Beauty of poetry lies in the eye of the beholder,
poems that merge in harmony bring the rat race closer.
Outside the winds of illiteracy, words want to be free,
to release ink, until your heart's last stand - that's poetry!

A Study In Apoplexy

Sometimes all you can do is rage,
rage against the machine, rage against humanity
rage against the way
decks get stacked and chips fall.

These are the times
for being apoplectic
if nothing else to purge oneself
of all the crap you have consumed.

And when your apoplexy passes
time to regroup with friends who hold you dear,
with dogs and plants,
and all the things that know how to take and take and take,
and then give you what you need.

The first lesson in life
is there are certainly others who love you.
The second is this life isn't fair
and never will be.

And the way this happens - 
either by stroke of luck or curse - 
is always beyond control.
But that doesn’t make it bad.

As difficult and unpleasant as it gets
it can always get worse.
And even when you feel you can’t take any more,
the thing to remember, that no matter how bad,
it can all be healed with a single breath.

(for Carol - 8/3/23)

Sojourn

Stow away the congeries of aches
overtly attenuating the life-force
Joints grinding bones as growing muscles waked
Oft, stomping like an apoplectic horse...

Under strained newness, a glum disposition
reeked nervousness, clamping a chest distraught
No diversity, glared their position
Such eyes that stabbed, could snap a breath taut...

Of schooling, what silent complacency!
Jailers with fingertip-busting dusters
or canes that cracked and smacked decency
Umber-burned bruises on smartened clusters...

Raking nails scratch to assuage a mind
New migraines need compulsory unwinds…

(4/23/21 For 'Aches Prompt' contest hosted by Constance La France)

They Demand Change

They demand change
  Change gender rules
But defend failing public schools

They demand change
  Change over from fossil fuels
But keep their bacteria-rich swimming pools

They demand change
  Open up the border
Hamstring police -- but still keep order

So just to prove that 
  change is what they fear
They are apoplectic
  'cos climate change is here

Children of a Lesser God

another primaveral day dawning upon me
as i linger stir-crazy in the moments unfolding
in apoplectic thoughts within my mind
while watching the carelessness of others
my moue tightly tucked beneath my mask
hides my silent screams for more distance

famished it seems the world has become
beneath the burden of these bare shelves
one could feel starved of more than food
as they buckle to their knees in prayer
feeling like children to a lesser God
in this turbulence that has consumed us

we grasp the need to feel a closeness
a perigee to a fullness to fulfill the emptiness
yet we feel nothing as this greater distance remains
all we have is the hypermnesia of past moments
breaking through the darkness of mind
as we close our eyes just to see a glimmer of light
in hopes that tomorrow breaks these chains
that weigh us down in heart and mind alike


April 7, 2020

Transgressions

Always polite she has done it again and again

Kind apologies in apoplectic reverberations


‘I am ever so sorry’ and never an honest lie

‘I promise mea culpa won’t happen again’


Regret is never far from her mindful tongue

‘My fault entirely just slipped out of my mouth’


‘Please forgive me my hurtful transgressions’

‘I beg you’ she lays prostrate before the crowd


Remonstrates with her own disagreements

Expostulates her lips into new held resolve


She used to be a passionate people pleaser

Self-talk might help to absolve further pardons



27th April 2019

Proper Society

Proper Society

A determined practitioner of misanthropy
My ungainly feet stumbling 
I go about life on my own terms
To sit at a table for tea 
Would find me apoplectic
No finishing school for old women
Who once burned their bras

I prefer to say my piece straight out
And watch truth bounce, like a pinball
From the walls of artifice

Polite conversation
Pass its tray to others, who can
Bend word to find themselves
A cabal of correctness
Their blinders hide them
From naked actuality

Mississippi Voices

Dark echoes of the past reverberate 
In Mississippi voices filled with hate. 
This morning nooses hanging from a tree 
Remind us all of lynching history. 

Some people claim great progress has been made 
And racist attitudes, in time, will fade; 
If this is true then why do people try 
To resurrect the Old South's battle cry? 

To say Jeff Davis was a patriot 
Is simply vile and apoplectic rot. 
He was a traitor to his very core 
In spite of false heroic Southern lore. 

The South was built upon the backs of slaves 
Who found no freedom 'til they found their graves, 
And those who try to sanitize this truth 
Reanimate the hate of John Wilkes Booth.

Apoplectic Begat Comatose

Eh, Bebe ... 
clueless you with the wide eyes open, 
which can’t see

So apoplectic of heart,
paralyzed by the cobra sway
of changeling channel charmer words

Gen Z baby gloomer 
remote diaphragm controlled,
go back to analog sleep

Oh  oh ... video comatose — 
Nightmares begat by daydreams
of reel digital silver screams

Lost Vegas patch-eye vision
of one arm pulled down
And the coins keep trickling
into your open palms

Baby Bebe gon umbilical vault cray  cray
Cut the cord of the eyelid dark violet curtains ... 
bling-bling blind birth 
shut the womb of twin retinal glow dearth

So aorta slow,
slug cranial coma critical ... 
lobotomy comatose

Virtual voices say:
eh, Bebe — 
Pull the plug ... let the dying vapors go,
expired from a necrotic nasal

Green-Eyed Monster

Indubitably there is one emotion
By the time I feel its first nettle
I am at the point of explosion
It is already too late to settle

I become immediately apoplectic
Before the green-eyed monster
Is validated as authentic
Thus exaggerating it asunder 

I find this is so flabbergasting
My face turns red and I glower
Jealousy for me is most suggesting
That my sanity has been devoured


May 5, 2018

Automatic

27/03/2018
With the need for Gun Control so axiomatic,
Donald Trump is acting increasingly dramatic
Continually sprouting that banal NRA rhetoric,
Facing children’s voices like gunfire has him apoplectic.
People may take notice of a Presidential assassination,
Except American gun nuts will still hold some reservation.
The March of our Lives is surely an asservation,
We need Gun Control now and without hesitation.
The youth are making altruistic assertions,
All with the purest and most resolute intentions.
The Second Amendment needs some small calibration,
Adjust the use of automatic weapons regulation,
Make it illegal for this reckless guns registration.
But try taking away their guns and you’ll get annihilation.

Hypochondrial Illusion

Hypochondrial Delusion

A mind corrupted canker
Of cystic self failure
Even gastric anorexia
And fluttery throb to alight the fear
An adrenaline generated tachycardia
That matches respiration
And causes hyperventilation
With invasive pacy rhythm
And palpitating violation
To anxious infarction
 In schizoid arrest

A hepatic paranoia 
of dermal yellow 
And lily liver assault
That feeds a life non start 
Of malignant low self esteem
A delusional malaise
Of apoplectic panic
And stressful apoplexy 

A localized dorsal twinge
To further worry
Lumbar or thoracic or
Renal calculi or a case of
Bulimic nausea and peptic ulcer
To stoke the festering psyche
Of somatic obsession

Embolic anguish that leads to
A hypertensive strain
With muscular tremor and distorted vision
And a full blown occulogyric crisis
Ensued by catatonia 
Comatosed by 
Psychotic breakdown and
Inactive body systems 
A perusal of the medical book
Confirms the diagnosis of
Life threatening
Hypochondria

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