UNUSUAL TALENTS
austere
leanings
toward
impressions
&
recollections
incredible
sources
emerge
laconic
prextexts
symbolised
determind
significance
a
jocular
caboodle
elementary
conserved
enthusiasm
thirsting
a
surprising
appeal
Well it doesn’t take someone from Harvard
To get the metaphor of whistling past the graveyard
As Dr. Luke states it and rather obviously
You walk over an unmarked grave obliviously*
The naturalist walks over The Foundation for reason
In an attempt to ridicule that very Foundation
But why as a naturalistic behaviorist
Would you grind when there’s a mill but no grist
You are borrowing the Christian’s capital (yeah I said it)
The ability to reason, but you don't give God the credit
Reason doesn’t grow on trees
Do you need more empirical clarification?
Generalizations can’t be seen with binoculars?
See the truth is something unseen or un-ocular
I don’t say in jest or jocular
Or appeal to Private Monocular
“We can’t give up God because we have laws of grammar”
See! The nut job Nietzsche gets the frustration
Trees do sway in the bitter-cold breeze, a field full of snow to the naked eye, it does please.
Hark the angel, carol singers do praise his holiness, holly holly on which the child does pierce his finger; the scent of the dog's trail does linger. Many a traveller did avoid the road but the truck driver like Saint Nicolas must deliver his load.
Fire ablaze in every house, left over pie did attract more than one mouse.
A jovial jocular month spent with gratitude in God's giving and grace
where around the tree children do challenge and chase.
Love and laughter to rejoice this year, a baby in a cradle to shed a momentous tear.
Winter wonder did delight, the star lit sky was all so bright.
Where angels on his immaculate conception sing throughout the night, a season in which to celebrate with a welcome heart-rendering reason
.
did the audience
with
jocular query
propone
"glad"
undoubtedly
hern red would
be mine
al'over
yellow daddio
*p.s....
this is mine "dip's" cousin "crown'd dip"
the explicate later, deftly study it's appear
for the meanwhile ')
Not written for a contest but based on the wit and out of the box chutzpa of a ballsy poet. If Shakespeare shakes his finger at me for breaking Sonnet rules, I will tell him I am a Lawless one, and a quill like John's is in my bag of tools.
One Soup poet is a rebellious man
He's a 'Wild Boy,' sung by Duran Duran
Known to break a few rules
Pen and paper, his tools
Lawless' humor is jocular deadpan
Some baffling riddles from the Boston Bard
Might take an inspector from Scotland Yard
He's mugged a metaphor
"Innocent," he then swore!
Be ready to run when John shout's "ENGARD!"
This ship here is sinking,
To the murky depths below,
It's got me worried sick and thinking,
About life imitating an art show.
Wonders lie in abscess,
Hell the unimaginable,
Pain is the remedy ready for access,
Tolerance for it is a gamble.
Should I die here alone,
Bury me by the coast,
My sins do burn me till I atone,
Raised glasses for a jocular toast.
Written: May 6th 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's tough to revel in delight, but I grew!
Dreams rouse me, not in an aphonic view.
Nature provides her bounty every day,
I extend my hand and grasp her sway.
I perceive my youthful self in that place,
Her offerings were serendipitous grace.
In her sphere, blooms, and waterfalls,
A supple deer, an oaring raptor, in altar calls.
Each contributes to a feeling of calmness,
She was a fountain of pure suaveness.
Yet wars and famine steal my breath away,
A sight, luring amid a rutted path of ruby clay.
A moody inquiry into the root of my being,
A fleeting time of pure delightful feeling!
Thus, I wound up shooting my future ego,
Lift a glass, not a pistol, in a sky-dip indigo.
I rise again, and the sun surrounds me,
I can predict zodiac signs and lunar spree.
Along with Mars, Venus, and other oddities,
My mind spills, leaving no room for prodigies.
I shot for my destiny with this radical rhetoric,
Pulling me up a path reflected as historic.
A flash of his pistol, a gaze that said, walk,
My handgun babbled in its wandering talk.
Written: Apri 28, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sibilant deceit indeed! with a goal to charm,
A melancholy girl fostered by her father.
Never incite with wisdom, pride, or harm,
I owe it to them; cruel deeds are improper.
I cycle as a moon, enthralled by its pure soul,
As it dances its dulcet arms over me, I scroll.
Explore the placid ocean of ripples in my heart,
I learnt to be sincere and abide flaws apart.
When I'm intrigued, my paradox falters,
I'm fascinated as moon rises and alters.
I'll gladly refill your cup once mine is dry,
I starve to rehydrate, but my soul is shy.
I will come back as soon as I decry a skim,
I am a network of kinships, not a whim.
I prize my solid, pure soul in a jocular state,
If my love is you, let my heart elect your fate.
Cherish gloom as pure serendipity in disarray,
I admire your serenity in a mellifluous display.
If you pick another path, I will wait to love you,
I'm a nemesis; you'll be in awe of my vast hue.
.
Eighteen
tuh
Eighty-eight
if i can't
walk'em
drag'em
*now 'fore y'all begin judgement, please read my write 12/7/23..
"Rusty boy toy"...young handsome tall men have tunz uv poetic thoughts
regard thoze age group women vide supra teach'n ourn man ;)...az for me,
i took notes... this one poetic note, vide supra, it's the promise; nothing
jocular about the thought, "unto death lover" ')
Written: January 17, 2024
_______________________________________
love
me
my shade
winged angel
wrap me with your wings
bear me to hide in your white shroud
save me from the evil imps in the fierce inferno
jocular melodies fascinate me and elate me into a lengthy journey
1st place contest winner
In the woods lurks the grey angel;
Wingless and disillusioned, he awaits
The onset of diarrhoea,
Bismarck’s jocular displeasure
And the seagull’s lugubrious weightlessness –
Later than previously, he erects
A flag made of wormwood
Brought all the way
From the ceiling of an underground café in East Berlin -
He sighs….and it is like someone playing
A musical saw: it expresses harmoniously
His perpendicular musical soul –
Expecting nothing, he is perpetually disappointed
By the visitations of crones desirous of petty miracles,
Of repentant tax-gatherers requesting absolution,
On New-Age moongazers seeking enlightenment,
Of people who desire certainty, answers,
Of people who pursue truth and self-righteousness,
Of people who just want to see what an angel,
Any angel looks like. Only these curious rubbernecks
Touch his bland and ironic soul with a faint luminosity –
Their enthusiasm for life, if crass and tawdry,
At least provides the salt which otherwise
Has lost its flavour….a pity
That it just rubs salt into his wounds.
Why do we exist? That's a query I hear quite often
It's jocular with loved ones, according to many
For others, it's a roller coaster of swings and turns
I had never entertained such trivial notions
Yet all I had were fears they couldn't fulfill.
When precisely I ceased to hope, I fail to tell
The goal is to lead a delightful and fulfilled life
I don't step back to dwell on how split I've come
When it's time, I can bury my pain and carry on
To a family who enjoys prying into my private life
"Can you advise a person to lead a typical life?"
While having little to gaze out to, I raged to live
Actually, life has no value if not for a rushing river
Running unabatedly over the difficult terrain
I never found out how or when it escaped my grip
I am currently blind to the future of my life.
Written: June 3rd, 2023
FOR PAM
On this Spring night. I would love to take you to dinner,
Because,no matter what,you did treat me like a winner.
We both were as different,as any two humans can be.
But love and loyalty bound us in moonlit immortality.
I have not met any like you,who never tried to change me.
And the laughs we had refreshed me as breezes from the sea.
Oh,how strikingly different in fashion we did dress.
Me, lik a wild Samba dancer,you,neatly and perfectly pressed.
There will never be another woman so very sweet.
We, so strikingly, different, jocular women on Oak Street.
I miss so our hour long chats on the-phone,
And then~the Lord decided to take you to His home!
I’d bring you back, if only for one lovely,Spring, night .
Dearest Pam…if only I could…..if only I might!
I envision your page-boy, auburn hair, shining in the sun,
As close to an Angel on earth,you were,smiling, having fun.
Thank you for having magic, divine,exquisite jour de vivre .
I hear your laughter in the whisper of moonlit, Spring leaves.
4/26/2023
Dedicated to my forever friend~~ Pamela
The jocular hilarity
of the holiday festivities
grates me raw.
I can't help it
the merrier everyone gets
the more sad I feel.
I know I am not right, never have been.
I paint a stiff smile on my face,
it usually lasts
into the New Year, but by then
it's a more a grimace.
There are more like me
we're not Grinch's,
not haters, we just have this
desire to be normal
but we've not figured out
'normal' yet
and it makes us sad
to be here
slowly turning this way and that
like a half-drowned log
in this sparkling river of joy
that most everyone else rides upon.
Till tomorrow The Spectacular
Not a thing about it jocular;
Does keep wasting Nature's Wondrous gift
While rugged terrains giving new lift...
Steely replica of Dynamite:
It has been the same show of might;
The weakest of them all still iron
And that's the reason it is Lion...
Caterpillar at work vibration
But it's a prelude to foundation;
A couple of Day's Disturbing Earthquake
For tomorrow's structure that won't shake...
In movies crushes one like a car
And real or not the bloke turns a star!
So, would you still fault Caterpillar,
Modernist flaming sword and pillar.?
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