To observe once is a blessing.
To observe twice, doubly more.
Thrice is pushing your luck too far,
and four times is much too much;
Much, too much to
mourn.
Four times is worse,
four times a curse,
four times so clever in
view and in pleasure.
The fourth time you see
the way things truly are:
the syrup dripping from
the table in such a perfect
pile.
Copacetic in nature,
sweet, sweet denial.
The fourth time you’ll know,
in body and soul, that you’ve
been given a pretty thing only
for it to be taken away.
a cynosure of all eyes
carrying danger
like a backpack
seasoned acrobat
thrilling all and sundry
with go-big-or-go-home feats on the trapeze.
he's done this countless times.
a life lived on the edge
flirting with disaster
each moment could be his last
the audience
on tenterhooks
watching him fly through the air
he's done this countless times.
all was copacetic just minutes ago.
amid all the rip-roaring...T H U D!
seasoned acrobat lies dead on the ground.
everything stops; a hush
suddenly falls over the circus.
it's stunningly unexpected...
but he's done this countless times!
he never saw it coming,
no one did
d e a t h
in an instant.
Blithe breaks at the illumination of muted yellow leaves,
so alive, nearly laughing like children; still life clinging.
Autumnal blouse of painted bark and pretty sleeves.
Silence of bluebirds and red robins - inward singing.
The rake’s barely broken earth, a few clingers at task.
Season’s copacetic with only a tinge or tingle of coolness.
Time’s fallen back as I read and write in open-door-bask.
I will join worshippers at church to net November’s fullness.
A shiver, a shake, an ooh, an ahh, A phoebe does go
on and on about the break of day; brightness in her clutch.
The slightest breeze bursts forth to create the ebb and flow.
It’s like an artist brushing hither then thither; a mirthful touch.
More beaks join the chorus, as will I, when I hear the music.
Oh how delightful, a dizzy dance of bells in the wind’s socket.
I swoon and sashay, on the pavement, in communion’s cubic.
How much more seasonal joy leaps from robin redbreast’s pocket?
Manipulation
Procrastination
Isolation
No motivation
Bell rings
Kettle sings
Timer dings
Pendulum swings
Frenetic
Pathetic
No work ethic
Copacetic
Obsession
Possession
Depression
Aggression
Alarm beeping
Secret keeping
Trauma steeping
Expletive bleeping
Dramatic
Ecstatic
Fanatic
Traumatic
Affliction
Suspicion
Mortician
Addiction
I did make a wasp gasp
with my splendiferous doggerel
that not even I sit well
with. & a note came from hell
penned in a tongue alien to me...
only the vile violet violinist
understood such oneiric idiocy...
& said it was emetic
& not truly good nor copacetic.
Even September agrees
such is the golden music
that easily delights the bees
& can make a wasp gasp.
SHALL I JUST TAKE A WALK AROUND THE SUN?
Shall I just take a walk around the sun?
Though, this is hard and demanding yet, copacetic,
Rough, tough and full of thorns, a trip or son,
As the harmattan wrestles with the sand in mystic,
And sometime too hot the eyes of the rays,
For everything cold was burnt from coal and heat,
And often dark from dark; as it pryingly pays,
For not all who wander are lost, by chance, the treat;
But in enmity of eternity shall we wrinkle,
Like the Swan in the Arabian swoop, in travesty,
For the sun can be a frenetic foe you tackle,
The gumption to dine in the zenith of thirsty,
A nude that shamelessly assault my consigliere,
So long lives this, and the ventriloquism of her lingerie!
SHALL I JUST TAKE A WALK AROUND THE SUN?
Shall I just take a walk around the sun?
Though, this is hard and demanding yet, copacetic,
Rough, tough and full of thorns, a trip or son,
As the harmattan wrestles with the sand in mystic,
And sometime too hot the eyes of the rays,
For everything cold was burnt from coal and heat,
And often dark from dark; as it pryingly pays,
For not all who wander are lost, by chance, the treat;
But in enmity of eternity shall we wrinkle,
Like the Swan in the Arabian swoop, in travesty,
For the sun can be a frenetic foe you tackle,
The gumption to dine in the zenith of thirsty,
A nude that shamelessly assault my consigliere,
So long lives this, and the ventriloquism of her lingerie!
So to the waterfront I go,
Heart heavy with the weight of feeling alone,
And there's all Mcculloch & crew can do, I find,
To settle my soul, to ease my mind.
The world is at peace but my mind is hectic,
I wish
My mind were as copacetic
As the waves.
Still. Ordered. Beatific.
They have paved their place in the world
And I have paved mine.
What is it? You tell me.
My innocence forgone.
It left me long ago;
It packed up its memories, its sentimentality,
In a knapsack of stars,
Pulled on the cozy coat of childhood,
And escaped in the daylight.
At nineteen, I have hit middle age;
No prospects for the future but an early death.
I wish I had the will to thrive,
To shuffle on past the age of twenty-five.
And some days I do, and some days I don't.
The bad outweighs the good, you see,
No motivation to live left in me.
Perhaps if I were a Manic Street Preacher,
(And with a cynical heart I'm halfway there),
I'd turn these thoughts into a song -
But for that gift, my mind is bare.
Date: February 2048
Desharah was in the nursery with
The babies. Early afternoon. All was
Calm cool copacetic in their home.
Everybody seemed content.
At Amadeus home his wife Teased
Him. The baby started to cry.
Amani said, "Amadeus go see about
Your son." Amadeus slipped into
The next room and cuddled and
Cooed to Damian Amadeus Hakim
Junior until he fell back into his
Baby dreams. They eventually
Named the baby Amadi. Then
Shortly changed the name again
Finally settling on AJ. Acronym for
Amadeus Junior. Then young father
Smiled at the sight of his sleeping son
Then quietly left the room.
Started drinking fruit flavoured water now
Not the tastiest but I'll keep trying, I vow
In the winter months I always seem to gain
Inactivity is the culprit, exercising's a pain
When I walk, it's much more like a waddle
Sure don't resemble a Givenchy model
Gonna keep on trying to recapture my youth
Downed another swig of gin and vermouth
Now everything appears to be quite copacetic
Gin works wonders as an anesthetic
So getting back to the fruit flavoured water
A lot more concerned than this guy oughta
I'm almost eighty-eight so why should I care
Soon I'll be trapped in my big easy chair
Wifey will feed me some ground up mush
Dentures down the toilet gets flushed
But there's a silver lining waiting for me
If I could only get rid of my gimpy old knee
Bottom line is this, sure had a great life
Came up a big winner by a roll of the dice
“Objects of Affection”
Objects of affection
drop like white marbles
from the sky
we love to look
to our heaven
for all kinds
of angels
all’s fair in
love and war
when faith
and belief
in a stronger
unified existence
that type of love, denied
trust
walks out the door
along a fine sharp line
sucked into that endless place
where the black ball
is dropped,
compartmentalised
life interrupted
for the unheard
taken down
by the unnecessary
silent swift intervention,
interrogated, eviscerated,
true autopsy, denied
what is love
to the alienated
gone AWOL alien
true fabric
orchestrated
by the external
as something other,
superficial,
the internal, inconvenient,
briefly recognised
worthless feelings
buried deep, the complex
compartmentalised
non-copacetic;
by the artificial copacetic
written off blithely,
non-evolutionary
the revolution de-loused,
time spent of no importance,
touch and emotions
clinically extinct
love
unknown
life
unrecognised
of unknown origin
unidentified
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
the all-consuming dread
beneath a veneer
of equanimity,
impenetrable
by eyes of keen observers.
by all appearances,
all is copacetic,
but under his smiling mask,
unmitigated disarray.
a cauldron of caged anguish
simmer
without boiling over.
his screams of helplessness,
muffled;
registering below
a whisper.
he's at his wit's end;
a beast of burden
with his world of troubles
sagging d
o
w
n his shoulders.
a victim of circumstances
beyond his control,
yet treats his helplessness
with utter indifference.
heaven only knows...
why.
You Select Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date written: 01/21/2023
Another spanking new day has begun
Filled with exciting things to do
Like shopping and spending piles of dough
I'm sure it applies to you
It's the way of the world, it's how it works
No one said it would be easy
Just look up yonder at that fiery red ball
Today will be bright and breezy
All is copacetic, everything seems fine
Copacetic as it's meant to be
Have I ever lied to you before my friends
My trustfulness is guaranteed
Okay, not every day will be a winner
But ten outta of ten ain't bad
Smile at the world, it will surely smile back
I have nothing more to add
copacetic dreams
linger long lasting liars
truthful consequence
Another brand new day has begun
Filled with exciting new things to do
Like shopping and spending piles of dough
I'm sure it applies to you
It's the way of the world, it's how it works
No one said it would be easy
Just look up yonder at that fiery red ball
Today will be bright and breezy
All is copacetic, everything's seems fine
Copacetic as it's meant to be
Have I ever lied to you before my friends
My trustfulness is guaranteed
Okay, not every day will be a winner
But nine out of ten ain't bad
Smile at the world, it will surely smile back
I have nothing more to add
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