Long Airway Poems
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Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
Earthdate/starttime: 11/04/19 01:10:26 AM
Earthdate/endtime: 11/04/19 02:55:46 AM
Poetic snapshot regarding immediate
actual, physical, spatial... environment
pertinent, relevant, salient... yours truly
commenced within fleeting electronic
date/time stamp indicated above bereft
attempts to describe character sketch,
whereat I sit within Apartment B44:
taking immediate lock, stock & barrel
ordinary repeated situation witnessing
garden variety *****sapien imbibing
familiar scenario, while spouse sleeps
near proximity, CPAP machine regulates
continuous positive airway pressure
offsetting sleep apnea breathe more so
she can breathe free and clear preventing
airway from collapsing when she inhales.
Nothing particularly spectacular wee hour
this ordinary moment beckoned, challenged
decided... attempt to focus (laser like) sense
and sensibility without pride, nor prejudice
essentially simply worded still life repeated
predictably, & regularity glossed over other
instances finding impetus preying upon pro-
fun ditties, and expansive vocabulary unsure
communicated printed idea understandable
aware some readers disinclined wading thru
thicket (quagmire) of verbiage, hence eureka
experience to corral immediate circumstance
(think Will Rogers' 140th birthday his home
spun extemporaneous anecdotal nuggets.)
Many occasions embarking upon complexity
aspire to elaborate intricate worded webbed
(wide aye bother) complex edifice ambitious
invariably confounding unsuspecting readers
suddenly sinking within quicksand helpless
against salvation, hence painstaking effort
to asseverate downplaying sesquipedalian
rather toning down syllabification sharing
trumpeting, undulating humdrum existence
verily reporting sleeping on floor - courtesy
restless leg syndrome, which affects the mrs.
Marriage basically no match heavenly made,
nonetheless dynamic linkedin travails values
wifely attentiveness to prepare unrecognized
frying object (best described as pop slop), +
she tends other domestic chore, viz washing
soiled clothes nsync of kitchen, whiling away
(think dervish) stoking chaos within invisible
re: nearly infinitesimal speck within Milkyway.
with natural binaural and visual ambience...
courtesy bumblebee pollinating clover
Diaphanous wings yield live airplay
vibrations undulate thru ethereal airway
rippling glorious edifications allay
gorgeous fauna and floral array
ears and eyes beheld
awesome buzzfeeding display
flight of the bumblebee laden with pollen
analogous to elegant performance
starring Faye Dunaway.
Crossword puzzle momentarily
distracted by amazing fete
observing crucial insect necessary
transferring pollen to pistils of flowers
with each subsequent visit
impossible mission to differentiate
one amongst countless
gently rumbling Bombus.
June 14th, 2020 thoughts
of doomsday far and away
pitch perfect afternoon yippie yie yay
I could squander hours
observing miracle worker relay
unwittingly alighting then planting pollen,
i.e. the male gametophyte
(DNA) of seed plants
transported to female part of flower
to enable plant to reproduce.
Quintessential lesson relearned
live life foreplay
until... hair turns
more'n fifty shades of gray
pronouncedly more noticeable since salons
and barbershops under lockdown
onset of coronavirus
(COVID-19) spells hooray
satisfying grim reaper
until vaccine acquired
meanwhile (back at the ranch)
think laboratory smart people linkedin,
qua advocating preventive measures,
a fancy word for test
iz pseudo synonym immunoassay
whispered to yours truly courtesy
twittering and tweeting blue jay.
How uncomplicated existence
allotted to birds and bees
simple straight forward purpose
additionally as by-product
to cultivate cheese
just cut away any moldy part
lest thee exhibit symptoms
synonymous contracting poison
(less painful than scorpion sting),
nevertheless nsync with illness
expanding thru body
on par with generic
garden variety archetype disease
ah, I sure wish being human
constituted less cumbersome complication
instead comprised
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious ease
as iterated with aforementioned
half dozen simple life forms
some of which can survive extreme temperatures
and/or even suffering thru a deep freeze
now upon reaching the end,
I expect nothing more emphatic
than ye to ejaculate Geez!
My sister Annick fixed me, locked me in, with cold, blue eyes as she sat down slowly next to me at the table. “I’m a surgeon,” she said, not quite casually, “a board certified surgeon.”
I give her a questioning look.
“I could take your steak knife,” she says, eyeing it, “plunge it into your neck - and oh, sure, there’d be a question or two but in the end - I’d walk away clean.”
“I don’t think,” I start saying…
Tears well to near overflowing in her turquoise eyes. “I came in - officer” she says, sounding stunned and surreal. “She was having a convulsion, she exhibited severe cyanosis, I couldn’t clear her airway, it was a classic tonic-clonic seizure.” she goes on, her voice rising to near panic with the diagnosis.
“You’d never…” I start to interrupt but she gently covers my mouth with her left hand while gathering the handle of the serrated silver steak knife, expertly, into her right hand.
“I attempted to perform a tracheostomy,” she continues in a traumatized but professional voice. “but as I began a transverse incision above the sternal notch,” *a tear rolls down her cheek*, “Anais suffered a severe generalized-onset seizure and convulsed, forcefully into the knife”
“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!” I confess suddenly, as if under oath, in court.
There’s a moment of still silence.
“And when,” she asked, wiping away the tear and turning the knife for a downward thrust. “Were you going to mention it?!”
“NOW! - before dinner!” I look around the empty room - for help - for a sympathetic jury. “It was an ACCIDENT! - I’m SORRRRYYYY!” I plead.
My sister slowly sets down the knife and says deliberately, purposefully - like a death sentence: “My Valentino sheer floral-lace top is STAINED.”
”I can Fix it!” I insist in a rush.
“Keep out of my room - and my stuff.” she grumbles, “And REMEMBER what I said,” she adds as she pats the knife before getting up and leaving the room.
“I WILL’” I promise to her back.
A second later, my mom sweeps in from the opposite direction.
“What’s up” she asks.
“Nothing” I almost whisper, head down.
Inside my nose lies my kind of treasure
Each dig brings no gold, but a lot of pleasure
Most times it's the right nostril that's clogged
With the left side, when I blow out, I can whistle for the dog
My girl and I used to be very close
Until she caught me picking my nose with a pair of her panty hose
When I pull out chunks of green and a lot of slime
I feel like I committed the perfect crime
Everyone is cautious with the ice, I grab it with my bare hands
They all gag, not one of them undersatnds
It's compulsion, something I have to do
So don't get grossed out when I do it in front of you
There are time at home that I use a vaccuum cleaner hose
No matter where I am, private or public I still pick my nose
On Thursday, we are having a pot luck
I shall fry my own chicken, a family recipe I call Southern Cluck
I feel so priveledged, one bag of ice saved just for me
I am astounded, at the pot luck, no one tries my family recipe
I am a very sanitary person with a very noticeable habit
Maybe next time I will bring marinated Rabbit
I just wanna know why you find what I do so gross
I can mix a drink for you while you explain and all the while be picking my nose
Either way you look at it, of my nose, I am still in charge
I wonder often if someone has fingers that are too large
For them I feel bad they can't clear their airway
I clear it probably six or seven times a day
If I can't flick it, I wipe it on my clothes
Watch for sharp, dry objects left behind,this is one of the hazards when you pick your nose
This is dedicated to all of you nose pickers out there
Men will sometimes pull out nostril hairs
Women normally pull clean
Unless your name is Butchy McQueen
It is stuffed so you blow and blow
A finger irrigation can bring it under control
Don't dig so hard that you cause a nose bleed
No matter how often you harvest the field, the nose plants new seeds
I myself, never use self control
Even at lunch, when everyone is featstin' I still pick my nose
Wanted: Slinger of Mirrors,
Tessellating lungs of fulcrum
Wading into scorn’s yellow Spring pond
We are flying to the airway Of. I hunger for our old hunger.
We dealt our Hand and every Star
Only one pond my reflection’s gunning donned
To see bullets’ sound is bedlam
Every pothole in my ear. Another night—come away from there.
That mixture will do no harm, I
Jolting flies.
Happiness arcades.
But if midnight settles down about my knees, about chest-high,
you must be this high to ride
Molting lies.
Effortless charades.
I never thought you would want me to shoot you again. Close your eyes.
Open your mind. Open
something degrading. something small something ready. Opening your eyes, y’know what I call thought? Deadly. Transmuting the world: Deadly.
Do you believe it will change a thing? Can’t.
And you know. The worst essence of mankind opens; jumps out of the garden.
Make a garden wave goodbye,
and wonder if you will ever see that hand, handing over blood
driven mad, stop
at a gas station and whistle to the ancients. Play a song that fulfills
every heart. Play me yours,
Talentless bouquets.
Every try.
My voice is a mirror I am Satan in the morning in the mirror cannot free what I wish not to be
Poisonous parades.
Speak until wine.
Every bullet hole through Vegas in my migraine headache vice grip orchestral jacket unsewn
sewn. As though the knitting of cruelty into facets of time were designed
in hopes that you and I
would not be overflowing with...oh, it evades me, I looked in the mirror
I should have looked
The bullet tore; bled laughter; silver; more
we dealt with spires of Fear. We built here. Seeking to speak.
Left and Right became unwound beneath the planet's rotation.
At the airway Of, my old wound sings the blues of the gun shooting
Wanted: Slinger of Mirrors
How can I fetch what's inside me?
It's a mental scream I can see,
They had poured fear through my mind's crease,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
There has been a real stage play,
Rumbling in the chasm and airway,
This caused the effect of the cease,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
Screaming voices drove me insane,
Shooters, killers, and guns again,
Frail life blights me on endless lease,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
We yield what we hear, but we hear,
In our blood, others' scars are clear,
We wipe tears but also decrease,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
My wounds are still bright in my mind,
Anguish since the long-term rewind,
Out of sight, cracked into pieces,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
We're together despite the waves,
Thrilled as tides rush us to the caves,
Earth seems to cast us a release,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
We plant hope as a human seed,
Love grows in the other being's deed,
These keen emotions can't surcease,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
What if rain wipes tears of sadness?
We'll free ourselves from the brashness,
Teases to shed tears of caprice?
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
Whether you cry from pain or bliss,
It's not rain that makes that abyss,
Crying is nature, human peeps,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
My sorrow is couched in downpour,
Sobbing has not yet come down more,
I chafe drenched while I wait for cease,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
Behind my face, that beams a smile,
Long, twisty, and pitch-black road style,
Secret cries have been rife with geese,
Tears swell deep ache, I grieve in peace.
Checked by HMS.COM/ 8 syllables.com
1St place contest winner
Written: November 14, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 33 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
student they are
on the wings of knowledge,
on mirthful wings of angel,
on light of inside and outside
smiling touches them purely
fresh mind, fresh eye view to the future
they are frolicsome for acquiring knowledge
together footsteps on the airway road
crossing they are every step of offshoot thinking
smiling, playing, gossiping, seeing, looking
and walking to the bright career
they are child to teenage on same base
on angelic wings and heavenly light
suddenly the MounTain LigHt comes upon them
comes upon them as Fat-Man and Little-Boy
it burns their wings of angelic soul
put off the light of happiness
cut up the two souls from their chain
wounded many of their caravan
MounTain LigHt brings mourning bliss for them!
it has no soul, no eye, no veins, no blood of kindness
it understands only the procession of death
it understands royal roads of Dhaka, Chattogram,
Rajshahi, Khulna, Rangpur, Sylhet, Barishal
it understands tareque masud, mishuk munier to Mim, Rajib and so on
it understands the darkness of grave yard
it understands the death angel Azraeal and greets him on inert roads
it understands a bier and shrouded dead body
it understands the epitaph with bereavement motherly tears
oh! light of life is not secured still on road
every innocent soul is devoured abruptly
giant death angel transform himself on vehicle
it comes as MounTain LigHt and fires, razes
nonsense demonic driver enjoys the race on bail
excited uncontrolled peoples ruminate stability,
demolish more lively soul in blind emotion
oh! death you are mad provoker on road to road
-August 09, 2018
*****
Note: - written on Diya Khanam Mim and Abdul Karim Rajib, student of Shaheed Ramiz Uddin Cantonment College, Dhaka were died on 29 July, 2018, Jabal-e-Noor Paribahan ran over them!
On beginning to compose a new poem...
Assaying thoughts gambol,
scuffling as in an affray
née crushing, jockeying, stampeding...
demanding equal airplay
gushing as metaphorical think
spigot turned on full force airway
thru totally tubular cerebral
microcosmic aisleway
vesicular conduit fifty
plus shades of gray
exhaling sigh of relief, cuz
transcending writer's block
innovative talent with words
did once again allay
needless panic, where yours truly
finds himself punchdrunk
in some dark alleyway,
an unfortunate fate
Matthew Scott alway
avert reminding myself
to utilize ujjayi breath
hard driving gateway
into Pranayama practices
analogous to make
emotional transit thru
golden itty bitty
teensy weensy archway
infinitesimal impossible mission
to pinpoint areaway,
yet crisscrossing meditative
zen zone an array
of utmost nirvana
will never lead effortless
mantra buffeted concentration
not lead astray
and matter of fact
lightness of being
scaling metaphorical kickstarting
rah height aweigh
up yonder within
outer limits twilight zone
re: supraconsciousness
keeping at bay
non intrusive thoughts
ruff lee collaring, mimicking belay
boring bonafide dog obedience training
pant tum miming (think) begging
for limp bizkit, thus
canine loosens seat belt buckle
one notch braving violating
no trespassing sign
despite petsmart restriction
heavy populated wall tint
head nab yule Haitian
made Christmas benday
eerily resembling voodoo
cursed poppet summoned
if anybody doth betray
not being spellbound
hence, blithely skipping
reading future poetry (mine)
magic edict I dost bewray.
Death by misadventure.
That is sadly how
most Black lives
wrongfully and unnecessarily
lost at the hands of police officers
are written off these days.
It's become the new normal.
Yet another Black life
has been snuffed out
while in the custody
of White cops.
It all played out
in broad daylight.
People out on the street
watched one
committing murder.
Despite repeated pleas
from onlookers, he remains
heartlessly indifferent,
kneeling
on a black man's neck,
blocking his airway,
putting over 100 lbs of pressure
on his spinal cord!
Who does that?
A man of color is pleading
for his life...and air.
"I can't breathe!" "I can't breathe!"
Hmm, why does that sound familiar?
Meanwhile his back-ups
are standing around
doing nothing,
saying nothing;
obviously complicit
in George Floyd's murder
Their punishment?
Loss of employment.
That's it? Seriously!?
Sorry, Minneapolis
Accountability
doesn't go far enough here!
From the looks of it
you've diagnosed
and dismissed
this senseless loss
of an African-American life
as mere death by misadventure,
which is outrageous.
Those cops should be charged
with murder, Minneapolis!
It was murder.
You don't get away with it
just because
you wear a uniform,
just because
you've got connections,
just because
you're rich and powerful,
just because
you're Caucasian,
just because
you're Black.
Unjustified murder
is unjustified murder.
Their punishment must fit
their heinous crime.
Justice for George Floyd!
Justice for his grieving family!
Do more, Minneapolis!
Date written: 05/28/2020
Here I am again caught up in this old suspended world
Bounded by chains, don't know my name
Caught up in a veil of surprise
Yet, do I yield my arms are open widened
I submit, I am real, as I feel
Jesus is calling me out of my circumstances
I arise, I relate, I no longer hesitate or debate
I stand firm in my new call freedom
Stop looking here and there, in the streets, around corners and cupboards;
For He's already here
Jesus, you're not that hard to find
And I am exhausted up into myself
And I'm tired of trying to behave myself
While holding back and holding my breath
There's noting no nothing left but you in my airway now, Lord
You're now in my heart and in my mind
Where you should have been there all of the time
I am looking upon the hill a top the mountains valleys still
and ever reaching spaces of clouds amongst the skies
The heavenly breaths the wind blown melodies
and I feel like I can fly
Yet, do I yield my arms are open widened
I submit, I am real, as I feel
Jesus is calling me out of my circumstances
I arise, I relate, I no longer hesitate or debate
I stand firm in my new call freedom
Stop looking here and there, in the streets, around corners and cupboards;
For He's already here
Jesus, you're not that hard to find
You are Lord God it's not you put it was I
for if I be still and open up my eyes
only then will I realize
you're not that hard to find
from the anthology "Springs Song"
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
03/15/12