Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and
freighted with the memories and the dreams of time.
—H.P. Lovecraft, The Best of H.P. Lovecraft:
Bloodcurdling Tales of Horror and the Macabre
His Overboard Tale
My captain bellows, “heave-ho.”
Off the plank I go, overboard.
I plunged into the night, entangled in
aberrant irises of the deep.
When my abject insanity rewinds,
I wish that I had swallowed the sea.
The kiss of salt and seaweed,
the wretch filled my lungs.
The Shes were more fish than maid
with huge hips and floundering tails.
The strange language of burbles,
their breasts made me gag…
Seahag hair, menacingly like Medusa’s.
I surmised sirens locks would actually bite.
My dreams capsized.
Why am I alive?
I’d rather that the chest be covered.
I shall never recover.
That’s why this landlubber
drinks and drinks, burbles.
At the end I was found on a rock.
I hit the rocks hard.
Swallow the water, lad.
Leave no room for desire.
Mermaids are a misnomer;
breaststroking in Bruichladdich proof.
Have a swim lad in this label
and stay far away from shore.
Wow my apartment is so quiet
I can literally hear my heart beat
My muse seems to have retired
In my broken down hp pc
I’m forced to freestyle
Let my imagination run wild
Get in touch with inner child
And red reasons to frown to smile
First thing is my monk friend
Texted me at 5 am with greetings
And two of my three men
Are part of thoughts so fleeting
I think I have to admit to me
I like the idea of lavender love as wealth
As soon as red flags start flying
I miss my Buddhist ways of health
I am such a free fuchsia spirit
I also embrace Christianity
Deep in my heart I feel it
That the way is not limiting
What if the highest one
Is like a path that one will find
As long as you seek enlightened ones
And denounce everything evil in kind
What if your mind is open to
Good and wholesome love
And your heart becomes renewed
As your peach path opens up
I have no amber answers
Only amethyst analysis hazel hopes
That hate won’t be a cherry cancer
In us or U.S. help Holy Ghost
As I said my muse is confused
Trying to revive from an iPhone
I know that my heart will choose
Holy love first as hearts home
Now I’m just a simple fellow
And what I like the most
Is a dollop of brown sauce
Spread on me breakfast toast.
You can keep your marmalades
Jams and your various spreads
Just give me a bottle of HP sauce
Cos I’d rather have that instead
Not served in a plastic bottle cos
At times they can suddenly spurt
And before you really know it
You have sauce all over your shirt.
No, served from a glass bottle
It flows in a steady stream
That mixes with your hot butter
To provide a culinary dream.
You can keep your haute cuisine
Because what I enjoy the most
Is lashings of hot butter mixed with
The brown sauce on me toast
They looked at me in horror
Breakfasting at this posh caff
And one of them had cheek
To just stand there and laugh
And then to make doubly sure
Me and me habits weren’t seen
They went and put me table
Behind a large folding screen
I find it rather irksome that
The breakfast for which I lust
Is regarded by so many as a
Habit of loathsome disgust.
No, I’m just a simple fellow
And what I like the most
Is a dollop of brown sauce
Spread on me breakfast toast.
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
H.astily I traipse “amidst these tombs,” “untainted eye…”
P.reparing the way for the “hidden world of yore.”
Luring lovers in, “lost Nevermore…”
“O’er the midnight moorlands crying,”
Verily to “wreck the solace of the poet’s mood!”
Even now, “drunk of the fog-foetid fountains.”
Cerebrally “reject[ing] the language of the glowing heart.”
Revered and “done are my trials,” “my heart is reposing.”
“All the years of fruitless quest” culminate in this...
For all the “prosy thoughts,” past “ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,” a
“Tale confide[d]” in “the shade of Poe” and I will be forevermore alive.
Quotes from:
“Where Once Poe Walked”/ “Despair”/ “The Bride of the Sea”/ “Fact and Fancy”/ “Nemesis”
Acrostic Homagerie
I’ll grant you a modern laptop
hooked up to an HP printer
is a more efficient and cer-
tainly a cleaner means to re-
produce yr message than
the whirling drum of rebellious
black ink we depended upon
back in nineteen fifty-seven.
But when my spellcheck wants to change
brideshead to birdseed, I wonder
whether that satirist of misuse
whose black warriors ate their British
boots and used a tank to melt down
belligerent recruits would laugh or cringe
waiting for the machine to send
out once a year condolences
that the man who’d mocked stupidity
had traded life in a mansion
for a sack of sunflower seeds?
I’ve a confession to tell
You’ve heard heard of the AA
We’ll I’m an addict as well
With an addiction to your 3Bs (bum, belly and breasts)
Well that was all well until you went all saucy on me,
and introduced me to the taste of your HP (honey pot)
Now I’m still a lover of the 3Bs
but they are even savoury with a little HP sauce on top
Mommy told me never to go in the basement, but I wanted to see what was making that noise. It kind of sounded like a puppy, and I wanted to see the puppy, so I opened the basement door and tiptoed down a bit. I didn’t see a puppy, and then Mommy yanked me out of the basement and yelled at me. Mommy had never yelled at me before, and it made me sad and I cried. Then Mommy told me never to go into the basement again, and she gave me a cookie. That made me feel better, so I didn’t ask her why the boy in the basement was making noises like a puppy, or why he had no hands or feet.
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UNSUPPORTED CODE HP Support Number UNSUPPORTED CODE
Brand spanking new
A love that's true
208-hp 2.0-liter I4 turbo
I like speed let’s go
17-inch alloy wheels
4 wheels of alloy is my appeal
Dual power outside mirrors
That’s so I can see ya
Sirius XM Satellite Radio
I love to hear Nas flow
Dual Zone Automatic Temperature Control
It chills my soul
I got my Waze app
Five-O I know where you at
Rain sensing wipers
It’s raining cats and dogs …..I don’t even hear a whisper
Full of adrenaline and no shaky hands
Tilt and telescopic steering column …..I’m gripping for command
Bluetooth hands-free phone
I'm in the zone
This is a poem from me, your mam
When will you accept me for who I am?
I've always treated you well and your sister too
I’ve never played favourites with either of you
I've noticed that as you’ve got older
You have a huge chip on your shoulder
Don't be ashamed of me, you know you are
Just because I don’t have a flash car
My house is a home, no money I owe
Everything’s paid for, no H.P. you know
Respect my partner and respect me too
I’ve never tried to dictate to you
You’ve made your choices and I’ve made mine
It’s been ten years now, surely that’s a sign
That I know what I want, some happiness in my life
After years of misery, filled with remorse and strife
Accept me as I am or don’t accept me at all
But your prejudice for all this time means you’re heading for a fall
You’ll need me in the future and you know that I am right
But whatever you think of me, I know my future is bright
So take off your blinkers and you’ll see it’s true
I deserve to be happy, regardless of your view
If I were an
~~ te
nl
ae
hp
ph
ea
ln
et ~~
I hope that
if swallowed by a boa constrictor
people would see behind the disguise
and do not mistake me for a
~~ hh
aa
tt ~~
If I were whoever I am
it would be nice to be seen
for whom I am and not
for what I seem to
be when I am...
An elephant and not a ~ tah ~
Note to self: Never again read 'The Monk'
by Mathew Gregory Lewis
before drinking myself into a diabetic coma...
...All night long
The Wandering Jew requested directions to salvation;
That is to say,
Whenever I wasn't being pursued by the Bleeding Nun
- She seemed like a good enough sort
For being just another figment of my horrific imagination;
It would appear she only wanted a sanitary napkin:
"Leave me alone" I kept telling her,
"I rarely have a spare Tampon!"
...Even in my dreams I can't seem to relate to women...
...At least I'll always be immune to Matilda's seduction...
...Because I'm only a "borderline heterosexual"
- I'm really more of a "feline enthusiast"
- Kinda like William S. Burroughs, I guess?
...This was quite possibly the worst nightmare I've had
Ever since dreaming about
Ambrose Bierce's 'The Damned Thing'
- I wish I never had to sleep again...
...I'm terrified to dream of 'The King in Yellow'
by Robert W. Chambers!
I have been condemned to a fate worse than Poe!
And H.P. Lovecraft is sooo-oh-oh-oh,
Ridiculously jealous of me too!
So don't start to panic - It isn't just you...
Come upon tomorrow,
you'll think back to this horror,
incomprehensible, feel sanity leaving you,
You'll see in a minute,
you can't kill it,
you're insignificant,
under the gaze of the universe you'll crumble,
not even sorrow, a single glance is insanity,
so numb you can't use profanity,
hear them coming for you,
a single thought and you'll perish,
a candle snuffed out in a vacuum,
its light so small, not even noticed when it vanished.
They're coming for you, if they knew you were there,
but you're too small;
they won't make you fall,
you'll do it for them,
such unconscious insanity lingering below the surface,
ready to be exploited by an alien mind.
Shutdown, restart, blink and freeze
Why oh why can’t technology for once be a breeze?
Such simple commands, pressing start or enter
But you would think you were begging for a suntan
In the middle of winter
I rely on this pink box for writing and such
Not trying to command the world
That would be too much
But you would think I was looking for a new planet
With the rate of its speed
Come on, I paid good money for you to full fill my need
There’s a shovel in the shed with HP on the handle
Just waiting for the day
That I am over this scandal
We lived in the different era of the genius
I wrote some of the context clues
You draft some benevolent don't and do's
As we believe in acccentuating formal thoughts
Your smart mouth and my pen
So much more alike when love is between
The author is us every now and then,
Scribbled words of wits it seems.
If I could narrate our story
It has rhyme and hyperbole
Like Ron and Hermione
In the seven books of Hp
You lift me up from my downfall
Now looking close to you and all
I am happy and I sore
As I gazed on a tree and there standing tall.
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