Best Lx Poems
Tender as cuddling arms, this godly place
Bright the jasmines that pose in laced dresses
Enchanting my soul with bliss all around;
That paints this unbridled colorfulness.
No panels of steel gates here, or mown grass
That disapprove of a fancy free tread…
Where I graze the meadow, in abandon
Relishing the scent of air overhead.
Oh jasmine sprigs are fondled by the breeze
Where birdsong trills on moonlit summer skies;
That kindles inner holiness in me
As lush artworks enthuse these joy-filled eyes
Even in winter’s hand, buds glint the dew
That’s why I love nature staying aglow,
As any cycle thrills my thankful heart …
To pray for her dear life… to richly flow.
`````````````````
Posted 6/05/2016
Contest of Rob Carmack, Srewed lX
When his father-in-law got him
into the poultry biz in Rhode Island
Joe had not fully contemplated that
first day to market when he
when he failed to truss and bag the birds
properly, a holy-moly cock-up so
when he tossed them into his ’02
Honda Accord LX to parlay
the beasties down 95 South RI,
they managed to wriggle free
the chickens did, got loose
from the burlap sack
the chickens did, flapping anarchy,
and mayhem, and bad policy about
the Aught-Deux’s upscale cabin,
the mad bastard capons pocking
fine leatherette and Boze while
Bad Chicken Farmer Joe flailed away,
fowl and feathers, feathers and fowl
flailing, clawing, at the faux cherry
wheel, finally rip-cording his failed way
down exit 8A for Quonset Point,
where, at the light, the cross-walkers froze
glaciating, mightily at the cockerel mayhem
unraveling inside a popular Midclass Sedan.
I Reckon Eyes Personal Necessity,...
Sans Arduous Ordeal
To assess meager
cradling aborted efforts
miscarried ambitions, I now berate
myself plethora sans lack
of accomplishments to date
and admit painful truth to self
of an ill prosperous lx roam man fate,
which life frivolous erratic
antics less productive slate
than if existence spent hovered
over an inter city heating grate
since squelched milestones wrought hate
red of apathy toward self, and spate
of penuriousness a tete a tete
meager financial cushion barely
keeps homelessness will ne'er abate.
~ April 13th, 1958 marked approximate initial
biological, chronological, and fetal ugh glue
tin nation, asper obstetric
prenatal confirmed commencement, in situ
i.e. womb (donned in his cute
itty bitty cap and gown), whence through
uneventful conception nine months
later lacked any blues clue
nonetheless, this earth
ling christened Matthew
Scott Harris made his unheralded debut,
albeit, then his
anatomical timer immediately
started counting down, loo
ping what seemed an eternity,
when mortality would be due,
vis a vis, meanwhile,
he awakened, discovered,
and galvanized transient
tenancy as he grew
since birth year month, and
date stamped upon this growing hue
man, who possibly felt thrust
out from warmth of womb
into ice cold sterility naked
like an Arctic monkey freezing in an igloo
a singular diaspora of
this "FAKE" gentile jew.
I admit tubby distracted by a modeling
female physique when attempting to write,
an aching agony rips thru this son,
gripping with hard on – tight -
by Dickens constricting sensation,
who orbited the sun LX times
coon sitters himself heterosexual male,
where slumbering testosterone forces unite,
no matter my libido feels
deadened, this despite
the above mentioned
asthma ordinary devoid sexual drive,
when these eyes (brown and myopic) sight
even just a picture
oven an attractive gal fanciful flight
evokes dormant longings
crashing thru concentration
without any invite
sparring dueling animal urge,
I know ain't right
since being married,
and all (witches nothing to celibate)
boot even if aye hapt tubby
dim witted with cerebral blight
prurient predilections, would
nonetheless prevail causing affright,
whereby the photographed lovely lady
dashes out like shuttered image,
though only so few inches in height,
would make a bee line into an
unreachable cubbyhole,
not totally airtight
just enough breathing room
to await darkening hour of night
than with lightspeed akin to meteorite
off into the farther reaches with a blink quite
invisible this quasi
holographic like pseudo sprite
leaves yours truly in the lurch ignite
ting a supposed sexual propensity gone cold
nay, no can do, cuz
untethered high as a kite
electrifying animal desire forced to bite
the dust, though thankfully concupiscent pang
ordinarily not the least bit aroused, aye attest
nope, not lascivious provocative
Barenaked Ladies can NOT excite
an older fellow, whose adolescent body
seethed with hormonal secretion,
and any pretty young thang did alight
a stick up between still skinny legs,
hence people watching
(particularly gals), a birthright
even migrant and/or
teenage mutant ninja turtle doth delight
tool hook, but NOT touch
most times an effortless fight,
yet every once in a while atavistic
pulsations, asper call
of the wild bobwhite
overrides instagramming, snapchatting,
and twittering uber with such might
even erupting sexless interludes of eunuch
or "FAKE" shining knight
chess moonlighting also as “FAKE” playwright,
hence if perchance a beauty catches me sight
lack of youth in your favor
from my penitent penile plight!
Lamenting Life Lost Before...
Last Rays Of Flickr Ring Candlelight
Approximately a dozen
orbitz around the Earth
(since mcmlix), the year
of my birth, an aversion
(stayin alive) constricted self worth
gripped (strong as strangling
choke hold), where
even to this day
(January 25th, 2019)
lx anniversaries marking birth
emotions of ambivalence directed at me,
and family of origin still career,
within psyche of Matthew Scott Harris -
less plain as day when prominent dearth
of attentiveness, compassion, empathy,
et cetera totally absent
without leave, and dear
father, (who art not thou in heaven yet)
nsync with mother (long deceased)
vividly evinced sole son lack of mirth
(matter of fact gamut
of all feelings except despair)
vociferously ejaculated, viz non verbal
communication as if...spark of life
extinguished within mine shuttered hearth
lacking necessity to eat plus,
attend to personal care
spelled disaster (even impossible
for FEMA to aright)
psychological illness offshoots infected,
this entire body, asper blight
dulling that preschool boy with
his demeanor cheerily bright,
a pallor of gloominess enshrouded this lad
blocking, crushing, destroying... daylight
additionally quashing will power to fight
off thee mailer daemon, a deadly parasite
lodged evil doppelganger fought
tooth and nail being ostracized
throve to truncate more'n foresight,
considerably less self actualized versus
present pained realization, plus violent bent
evidenced by self starved
inflicted suicide, not gunfight
since parents opposed firearms,
anyway no matter, cuz height
of determination to perish (albeit
passive) exhibited pathetic might
effortlessly overwhelmed, since
corporeal defeated essence i.e. emaciated flesh light
as a feather defeated thru thine dada
decreed diktat, and
maternal instinctual millwright
both sets of chromosomes helping beget,
asper this scribe learning
late less a frayed
gripping ropes to play right.
Back in day (of ma
mum, and perhaps
since time immemorial)
utterances of physicians
nsync with Staff of Asclepius
pounded against floor,
(which wrought
life to entwined serpent,
whose beady
eyed hypnotic power)
understandably
ranked doctors among
near mythical powerful
Gods, who ought
best not be ignored, thus
(then a young Harriet Harris,
now long since deceased)
felt overbearing heft of
medical practitioners final words,
and subsequently would nought
refute, ignore, nor
dispute sacred commandment
hence would n'er be accused
of sacrilegious immodesty,
impiety, or impropriety
(towards medical institution),
and never doubt voice
most supreme in the universe,
thus she felt caught
against challenging authority
meekly surrendered
her only son, bought
with bargaining chip
indubitable faith
in omnipotent equip
ment with hocus
pocus magic to flip
precious life humming along,
or force death grip
upon a lovely boy (christened
Matthew Scott Harris),
at present lapsed beet hip
pea hooping to stave
off crossing the lip
of LX bracket, there
fore reckons a nip
and tuck (think
prefrontal lobotomy),
asper when just a pip
squeak ushered,
where mine existence
could be mortgaged
with accidental,
(or purposeful) slip
of the knife, while
under anesthetized trip
returning minus a mass of
enlarged lymphatic tissue
between the back of
the nose and the throat.
Yea, I Admit Being A Little Uptight...
Yet,...this baby boomer surrenders
since many an elapsed yesternight
to inevitable (albeit gradual)
cosmic fusion with universal spright
notched calendrical anniversary, mine
nondescript birth doth invite
quiet acknowledgement between
January twelfth and fourteenth 2019
lengthening shadows of twilight
years ordain nothing more slight,
than mine chronological meter,
which will tabulate LX orbitz
completed round the sun, a sight
hardly worth promulgating,
cuz I haint nothin but right
smack dab in the average
range as applies to quite,
a vast (perhaps a bajillion)
fellow Earthlings, somewhat polite
chap minding requisite p's
and q's (i.e. prime quality),
nonetheless being cordial, insight
full, how all knowing Universal
studios theatrical playwright
offers no exemption against
facing rigor mortis plight,
and if necessary
shines blinding searchlight,
hence the ultimate countdown
deliverance into eternal night,
or perchance afterlife might...
awash with marshmallow
clouds plus tangerine
skies, amidst kaleidoscopic flying kite
inescapable, yet...I oft wonder
if one can prepare
being hermetically sealed airtight
or if cremation chosen option
retain even a minuscule slight
speck, asper any conscious recall
kept alive by family and friends,
who sorrowfully bite
lower lip reminiscing
close curtain calls bloody fight,
sans that brawling night
in Casablanca, or nearly
(Al) most (Gore)d at bullfight.
Wide Awake At Two Plus Hours After Midnight...
(actually, now at present time juiced
well nigh high noon same day)
On this January nineteenth
tooth thousand and nineteen
dogged by an earlier notion
searching soul to glean,
(while at Collegeville Diner)
above place previously wrought
poem hammered from this peon
expounded possibly seen,
asper belated birthday
outing now I mean
to expound upon nagging, yet keen
existential question, sans what purpose
validates yours truly within skien
of terrestrial webbed wide world,
no...no...no not
simply pocketing green
backs (banknotes, legal,
tender, money, et cetera), but now bean
older, and displeasing lee not so lean
when just a slip (pre) youth decades ago
yea, that would be
when I hapt tubby a teen
with nary a concern,
nope not even to preen
myself much to the dismay
of my late mother, nay
no idea why lackadaisical, illogical,
and antithetical bee hay
vee yore prevailed, but more to the point
rarely when young and naive did stray
thoughts besiege my mind,
that LX vintage sketchy,
shady, and seedy gray
area bothered concerning,
hounding, pestering and fill lay
mignon noggin ready toboggan
any price you say
for this staged coached blarney
finding this mortal questioning... ray
zing meaning, purpose,
and underlying importance, gestalt, design...
of life more so today
meaning since recent past
also taking stock of
accomplishments from way
back, and feeling stymied okay
at a loss to delineate
any rhyme or reason
to shout hip...hip hooray
quite the contrary, which following
admission might appear cray zee,
but aye decry barely
living capped off with oy vey!
(earlier this January 18th, 2019 belatedly
to acknowledge my LX birthday.)
Mine eldest sister
as I continue in the circle game
of life, (ye dear Amelie
McGeehan) darling dame
a modestly lofty poem I aim
to dash off (while riding away
high in the sky - belay
ying at Macht shnel blazing
saddles laser optic speed
in a white horse open sleigh),
and plaudits of course
without moment's delay,
your husband Richard,
one hunger re
chap, who wolfed
down his entree
(who introduced me
to fictitious song
titled Richard, Cory),
plus Harris patriarch Boyce aye
aver as gregarious soon tub be
a nonagenarian papa,
also one grand dad dee
glad this sole son did see
our father (thou wart tin...)
maintains sharp mental
a cue witty,
which does not mean he
willoughby immortal
till et tern knit tee
since the gradual
onset of death I bee
leave actually begins at
birth, but whee
ving and bobbing
(like a sponge at sea)
waves each person
closer to thee
cosmic creator, or re:
incarnate tid (three
times a day) tis key
unless otherwise specified
(if questionable issue at stake,
sans not so ease zee
as apple pie with gray vee),
hence power of attorney
in demand, cuz
this brother-hood
generated bupkis, and made prithee
coon fuse, nary a whit,
asper executor signed...
yours True Lee!
Misery accompanied, haltered, tethered... tattered web
This health conscious lx year
roam'n, hoodwinking hoodlum doth wear
two pair bullet proof underwear,
(which confession rarely trumpeted),
plus yours truly admits unclear
why tibia long in the tooth fellow,
prevaricates with tongue in cheek oh contraire
good n plenti humor absent clear
sense and sensibility so beware
me figuratively pulling poetic foot
mainly "white lie" fibula I air
discombobulated gobbledygook,
which corroboration ye might declare
choosing to cease reading
feeling in high dungeon as all hell... where,
twitching (bull leave me you) nostrils flare
analogous to spewing dragon
rare endangered species from Zaire
of corpse stewing in dungeon
hooping on wing and prayer
to attend Renaissance Faire,
thus word wizard conjured
aforementioned as metaphorical veneer
cuz, he really sought to pioneer
his breakout poetaster career,
thus far batch
prefabricated rejection letters
posits alternative to forswear
writing another feeble rhyme
relieving anonymous critics
providence beckons I course hear
doom and resignation refrain
repeatedly hammering and echoing
within chambers of each ear
mancave best provenance
divine providence especially if nuclear
war rents tentative moments to spare,
which doomsday looms clear,
perhaps half fortnight away
fatalistic mindset, I despair
money woes exacerbate pesky news
sense under_scoring dallying,
dithering, lollygagging... while linear
rise regarding global temperature
gives cold comfort the buccaneer
occupying oval office laissez faire
attitude, hence pennilessness moot
total mortal kombat global warming
further accentuates real Halloween scare,
no trick only ill treatment
unleashed courtesy mutineer
hand over fist handily did profiteer
minting daily another bajillionaire
government coffers bursting
mother earth biosphere square
within uber targeted crosshair
talking heads poles
apart as global warming
melts Antarctic frigidaire
Santa Claus reindeer and elves
schvitz as north pole melts
in short shrift oblate sphere
formerly teeming with life
field day for hardy
indomitable creatures thriving
within most scary nightmare.
(thus, I revel to reveal
more'n juiced poppycock
perhaps casting impression,
I hale from Mars,
thus this wordsmith
willfully exposes emotional scars.)
Fear of challenging myself,
and/or lack of where
with all to confront
psychological
(dis) comfort zones,
that passivity did veer
really inadvertently,
currently indirectly,
galvanically charged
as deaf fence sieve barrier
and hermetically, inherently
sealed (unclear)
to me how to dispatch
i.e. (muster)
courage to tear
down invisible
barricade shuttering
acute (oblique striated
mein kampf existence),
thee dulled eyes
didst blankly stare,
ring just beyond
the impaled psyche
liberation i.e. freedom rare
rung only plaintively relished
by this self condemned,
cuz aye felt
scared (to death) living,
which may seem *****
nearly equivalent
being solitarily confined,
with absolute zero chance
(on broken wing or prayer)
life sentence,
would NEVER be commuted,
asper this outlier,
and/or less
prospect for parole
never came near
well nigh since birth
(as this popping
creaking, and crack
ling body electric
inexorably approaches
LX orbitz
around Earth) mere
lee experienced his existence,
not worth
any king to leer
not even worth
Doppelganger to jeer
only the hollow echo strictly
I can only hear
as an aging toothless
grimacing crookedly
raggedy man doth glare
from cracked mirror,
twill bid fare
well to optimism - endear
himself to forfeit any dare
ring do only
remaining holed up
sitting against
a hard backed chair
reflecting on bleakly obtuse
countless unmet dreams bare
heft desolate freight tinned woes
only thru limply
lame poetry I can air.
Gangly longfellow thoreau and thru...
Well stocked with
wordsworth lx numbered yesteryear
born as predicted by
bubba's zayda longtime seer.
While in utero premier
ultrasound detected
smudged embryonic fetus
whoosh auditory proto language unclear
surprisingly enough sounded analogous
to murmuring... huh yepper sonneteer
vaguely resembling, yes
William Shakespeare
though burbling, gurgling,
requiring absolute zero noise to hear
kickstarting, reverently warbling
difficult, diligent, distinct yawping
nonetheless reckoned as dérailleur,
viz swiftly tailored
inchoate anatomical gear
hurriedly styled pièce de résistance
yours truly born with silver dictionary
in his mouth, I f¨ç°ˆ˜© swear
unusual biological phenomena
drew pediatricians far and near,
which (no surprise) determined
English major as academic career
matriculating upon immediately
exiting birth canal whip smart derriere
i.e. (ŧ§), spread like wildfire, where
media hounds blitzkrieg stunned to stare
not at me but bare
naked lady in no mood...ready to tear
away sophisticated audiovisual equipment
understandably on verge going nuclear
furious, (this told me later in life as here
say), she quickly (albeit groggy)
curtly demanded fair
remuneration, and milked
infant me as cash cow profiteer,
her eyes aglitter signaling,
shining, seeing... gold
let whoever sneer
earning money with initial gasp of air
freeing parents to live
within lap of luxury
world wide web sightseer,
yours truly received
royal carpet treatment everywhere
crisscrossing the globe
accoutered with most
expensive designer babywear
obliviously prattling, jabbering, gabbling...
invariably drawing throngs
across entire northern hemisphere
broadcast as podcast across atmosphere
all across the universe hoodwinking
convincing many of "FAKE" poetic story
concoction courtesy adept fictioneer.
L,
While you're gone my mind tumbles
toward the sea
aimlessly bobbing
against the rocks and the anguish
of a washed up surf
waves move me in
and move me out
of my own way
I reach for the light of day
the sights soften the blows
searched amongst the silhouettes
inscribed in long lost soliloquy
darkness beckons
I breathe
I can only breathe in
the scents you left in your wake
I'm awake now
still but awake
awaiting
you're away and I'm reading
swept away and I'm needing
time, your precious precious time
Like as the waves make toward the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Quote from Shakespeare’s Sonnet LX
Lines one and two
Source: The works of Shakespeare
Ward, Lock & Co Limited
London, Melbourne and Toronto 1911
Blank Canvas
Our earth has colours rich beyond compare
The force of nature we shall never tame.
Where hidden treasures underground so rare
Reminds us daily nothing stays the same.
The tapestry of life is woven fine
Each thread depends upon the master’s loom.
Connected through the one who is divine
Ensuring colours with each season bloom.
Create: the artist paints from canvas blank
The strokes of life are seen upon our face
On bended knee we know who we must thank
Bright colours of our lives we must embrace.
These precious gifts shall treasure till the end
Upon our death our soul then must ascend.
Christine 20/4/2025