Best Uvula Poems

Entering the cave of a wide open mouth
Pulling on the slippery uvula 
Reaching for the nasal cavity
Taking a breath before leaping for the eye socket
Where I view the world that plows the field of future

Then taking dirt road veins to a house on 123 east...

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Is the word “fart” a naughty word

Hope not... I find it cute and giggly

But don't go by me, my mind is a little warped

Words are just words with letters strung together

Strange how any mention of our private parts

Should never be said in public

“Uvula” sounds really...

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Inferiority Complex As A Kid And Adult!

I recall father, (now behold
at near ninety years old - maintains stronghold
on life, cuz born of sturdy mettle -
rumor claims bullion – ne'er did buckle nar fold
meaning bull + lion rolled
together and processed

April 9th, nineteen twenty nine),
fortune teller foretold
envious...

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Inferiority complex as a kid, adolescent and emerging adult

Yours truly (an amazingly,
gracefully, and markedly modest
passively aging baby boomer -
formerly introverted long haired
pencil necked geek),
prattling wordsmith doth behold
nostalgic memories regarding father
(Boyce Brandon Harris)
long ago lapsed decades

during papa's prime time
many years past when complacence
existed about joie de...

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before the dense shower of rain
i’ve placed by notebook for taking autograph

before the whole-night music-show
before the non-busted shell of tear-gas

but i can’t put it before your uvula
till now 

sitting in the dark-balcony 
touching the nevus
here i am

creeping in the air 
is my silky handkerchief 

in...

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hull loo from the rip tide 'o this eastern sea board
of these united states - no always in a chord
with each other - sum give others hoard
unlike meself, an additional pray 2 zee lord
boot i - cap'n my captain crunchy kangaroo moored

by dental floss tend...

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Fresh home from therapy,
     and resonate with zeal
tush air cerebral cogs a turn'n
     analogous to and pinion wheel

hence attempt made to bare soul,
     sans thru poetry re: veal
ling avidity, asper barreling neurological
 ...

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This one is for you, dear hair in my mouth,
No matter how hard I try,
To spit you out, though I know it's uncouth,
I really wish you hadn't dropped by.

When I breathe I feel you tickle my uvula,
As your other end taps the back of me...

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Self destructive wickedness arrested, convicted, and gaoled...

with kidnapping little boy 
ordered to suffer
life sentence without parole.

The deadly scourge of  
one obsessive/compulsive disorder
nearly left me starving to death.

Anorexia nervosa absent bulimia 
nadir of onset 
diagnoses schizoid personality disorder 
severe social anxiety still legion I aire
behavior...

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Versus me 
(chilling as an outsize ego freezer)
profusely perspiring 
and heavily panting
experiencing one after another 
stuff whet dreams are made
frolicking in autumn mist
(think Maxfield Parrish painting)
while skirt chasing
and playfully tackling,
a gamesome gamine with verve
mercilessly coquettish ingenue
"precociously seductive"
overgrown Lolita wannabe.

Solitude and introvertedness
mebbe made more manifest destiny
courtesy...

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5 a.m. had surfaced
Weary I ascended from my bedstead
Keen I rose the first of many cancer sticks
to the sleek rift of my lips
Oh, how the flavor of fresh, young smoke
Knocked at the base of my esophagus
Caressing my uvula with infinitely
Unfathomable mountains of beauty...

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Mine mortal flesh can finally escape...

Though mentally, physically,
and spiritually healthy... meth
hood dolled logy 
hoop fully, ideally, joyfully...
unannounced twill be mine death
without forewarning thine

grand finale allocated breath
best surprise visit me
(without reason nor rhyme)
ye grim reaper, when mine
sands of time spell season
bound to thee afterlife
existence null and...

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I (a youthsome, wholesome, jokesome, handsome,...
gamesome, chucklesome, bothersome,
and awesome modest fellow)...
does not deliberately court immortalization,
and wonders what criteria confer elevation,
exaltation, glorification, hero worship,
idolization, veneration, or worship.

I go about a daily humdrum routine
me, a twenty first century baby boomer,
who considers himself passé
and senses with sensibility
he would...

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timid, meek, and demure (effeminate) me,
essentially ruled the roost
regarding Harris household
sole son characterized vis a vis
presented passive resistant
outward nonestablishmentarian mold
worst case scenario
would witness Matthew Scott Harris
spending longevity old and feeble minded
at 324 Level Road

outliving parents, pets
(comprising inordinate
number of dust bunnies) and siblings
(an older and younger...

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I (Samson wannabe) feel aghast at latest turn of events regarding Gaza

Omnipresent grief and horror
abounds toward ceaseless killing fields
impossible mission for me
to summon forth fading magic powers
since Delilah imposter hashtagged,
(and subsequently outed) 
as a mortal (know your) enemy, -
nevertheless became the love of my life...

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