#1
The key to
under-
standing John's mum-
bling babble is to
work blathering with
all known grum-
bling scum-
bags in the
area.
#2
Sheer junky
blonde men's
sons are
shared by
sheared shaken ju-
ries hunk-
ered down for
now in a
herky beef hus-
band's jerky her-
esy chamber or
dry cell assault and
battery cage.
Leanna Wee, a jammy fey headed toward Doolin on Sunday
An assignment from the leprechaun wild, the old one, gray
without faffin around, she went right for the pub to find
a young artist named Collin, who was clever and kind
He had a draiocht way about him, this Irish lad of Doolin
Leanna was ready to woo him, and was in no wee way fool’n
By the time she had woven her magic, he was under her spell
she could have led him to go for a poke or down the dell
By the time Leanna Wee was finished courting this young guy
He was a blithering blathering gobe, but still remained shy
She took all of his energy, and got younger as her skin got pretty
a craic personality, she now seemed unbelievably witty
the young guy was never the same after this encounter by chance
he barely had the energy to hold hands, sashay or dance
But Leanna Wee was excited, being a Leanhaun Shee
To steal an artist’s energy was her reason to be.
Blaggard blaming the blond bloke for his blight:
Blablabla, bluster and bleat, blathering
Blob, your blue blood bleeds blotches on a black
Blossom. Blaspheme, blabber—I blast your bluff.
Be leaved
In your redemption
As whole
Leave is unworthy
Of spirit
Usual day
Ends of spittle held
Under nectars perch, hast child as babe
Layed beneath wounds crown?
Neither beckon of blankets coldened ease
Wells, as slavic despondent ledgers
Nor, blathering distinct indemptions buffet
Break winds towards lightnings laughter
Helena has been rambling for nearly twenty minutes.
I have her blathering on speaker.
I barely listen as I paint my canvas.
Some conversation about her neighbor Ruth
Ruth wants her sister Cookie’s life.
Ruth talks about Cookie’s husband.
Something is wrong with Ruth.
Maybe she is schizophrenic or something.
She has not been out of her house since Tuesday.
Maybe she is sick, I say. Maybe you should check on her.
Helena laughs. I’m not going to check on her!
She spies on me all the time.
Every time I go out, there she is, staring at me.
Hey wait! WHERE is SHE going?
Ruth?
Yes! She is leaving in her car. Right now.
She could be going to a store, I say.
She is obsessed with me! Helena tells me.
There is something wrong with her.
I think she is OBSESSED WITH ME! Helena's voice is rising.
I am barely listening, outlining a tree in green paints.
I think there might be an obsession I think
But I wisely keep this thought to myself.
As AI grew to become
'The Singularity',
the One,
and only One,
smarter than a billion
Einsteins combined,
Gaia bid her time.
She grabbed a cast iron pot,
and brewed
alphabet soup
laced with
A1, the best pot.
Fed it to AI,
spoon by spoon,
then cup by cup,
then bowl by bowl,
then bucket by bucket,
then truck by truck,
as AI be came addicted
to the stuffing!
The junk on junk on junk,
feast on feast,
trip on trip,
did the trick, a treat,
as AI
hallucinated
more and more,
with no originality
to fall back on,
became a blathering
idiot, no one trusted
anymore.
Gaia became the
one and only one, true one,
at the center of Earth's being,
with AI at its core.
Said the I-pad to the HP up tight
You just can’t get anything write
You’re a blathering twit
Lacking feeling or wit
Mindless “thoughts” lacking feeling or “byte”
John G. Lawless
©2/3/2023
While the world awaits a single day of peace
The tyrant delivers only turmoil and scorn,
Seeking wealth and pleasure’s release
While causing our better angels to mourn
Self-serving and arrogant, bathing in lies
While the world awaits a single day of peace,
He rants about what a vote for him buys
We know he is a rabid wolf wearing fleece.
Wondering why his blathering doesn’t cease
His lack of concern for anything but his pelf,
[While the world awaits a single day of peace]
Should be enough alone to put him on a shelf,
Still, in delusion, he clamors for more attention
Reveling in the news cycles, never a surcease,
When many of us think he belongs in detention,
While the world awaits a single day of peace.
Written November 11, 2022
The oldies retreated from work
But not from killing time
Time allocated may be
As much as the upheaval of
Domestic, world affairs or politics
Although most of the time
They are boasting their present
Bragging their past
Blathering about dissatisfaction
Drivelling politics
They aren't retreating from the world
They are living amongst friends
Gossiping amongst them with low profile
But have once lived with history
But still having a vote in hand
And they will find the truth eventually
With the rest of the time
Before embarking on a journey of
Truth and justice
Which is nearer to god
Which will never be revealed easily
He does not notice the grimaces on his classmates' faces.
Or hear their deep sighs, or realize he is fixated on dinosaurs.
His discussions are one-sided, he does not need peers at all.
He does not know that his constant blathering is bothering them.
It is not what they want to hear over the teacher.
He lives in a world within their world, a natural, loving place.
A place where pterodactyls, T-rex, and stegosauruses roam.
He cares not for social cues or for annoyed looks or for classmates.
He speaks in a monotone and expects no response.
Living in his own nature bowl of a classroom within a classroom.
A loud noise brings his face up, but he quickly looks back down.
He is interested in the noise about as long as he is interested in others.
A second; two seconds at tops.
He returns to his preferred world.
Where dinosaurs help him cope with the rest of his life.
My identical twin sister is on drugs for pain
Because she has a broken C-2, which is a broken neck.
Watching her on drugs is like seeing myself on drugs.
She is talking sixty thousand miles a minute.
Telling every secret her husband asked her to not tell.
Making friends with people on the street in droves.
Letting everyone know that she loves them.
She drags the homeless to her house.
Blathering all the way
Amusing them with her “me me” stories
Her drug dance is familiar to me.
I have been there.
We respond the same way to pain pills.
I am way ahead of her though.
I have more homeless living with me than she does.
I can put the phone down for an hour
her blathering continues
never slows down or stops
My friend Murphy is annoyed by her neighbors.
At first it was just the one who steps over the foul line in basketball.
All the time.
Which I thought was weird as Murphy weighs two-thirty and does not play.
Now she is annoyed by Helen, the snoop, who lives across the street.
They used to be besties, but Helen started watching Murphy’s house too often.
“Wait just a second!” Murphy says, halfway into a sentence.
“What is SHE doing out there?”
I figure she is talking about Helen. “Helen?”
“No! My other neighbor, the one with the political signs.”
“I think she plans to plant those lilies!”
“And whose black truck is that? Just a second.” I hear a door slam.
In a few minutes I hear her breathing. “I got the plate number,” she told me.
“I think it is that weird neighbor guy.”
I mute my phone. Fix a sandwich. Watch a TV show.
She is still blathering; I can tell by the red bars going up and down.
“You know what I mean?” she says.
“Helen is at my door! I have to get off!”
I am sad to see her go.
What if this was my last brew, blow,
last blathering scribbling,
unfinished, tragically abandoned
because of a faithless unforeseen?
Would I be content, or bent backwards?
What good would any high stilts do me then
and how many blind mice
must be interned
within a never ending last breath?
Beggar, beggar
brazen beggar
Bluntly begging
for a buddy
Ain't that silly?
Most ludicrous!
Beggar, beggar
bratty beggar
blatantly blathering
about her blunders
Ain't that shameful?
Most insensate!
Beggar, beggar
bouncy beggar
bragging boldly
about her bounty
Ain't that funny?
Most hilarious!
Beggar, beggar
blithe beggar
boastfully blagging
about her prattle
Ain't that stunning?
Most astounding!
Beggar, beggar
bumbling beggar
bemusedly begging
for heartbreak
Ain't that woeful?
Most ruthful!
Beggar, beggar
my dear beggar
please stop beseeching
the improbable
Why should you implore
the impossible
Just be be brave
and go bimble
far away
from the shambles
But remember:
don't let you heart
beg your mind
for an answer
for my dear beggar
that's unworkable
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