Long Alphabetically Poems
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The Peterson Directed Handwriting System...
Tis beyond the depth and scope
of this electronic post,
and author, what triggers deliverance
housing bounty full memory absorbance,
yet no matter how many
heat sinks plumb cognizance,
most ordinary happenstance
often dredge up old nettlesome
rusty mettlesome names
of teachers forbearance
nearly half century ago
recalled in a flash,
and helped birth this poetic instance
break open literary
piece de resistance,
yet I will make
no subsequent reference
albeit once, about Peterson Handwriting
non cursively typed poem
filled with nonsensical abundance
dashed off viz seat
of my squarepants
typed, via strong arm lance
meant tubby considered pure entertainment,
so...,this rhyme merely hints
at cerebral imbalance
as minor rave and rants,
culled from convenient
20/20 hindsight stance,
while this quiet as bobbing sponge
minutely straddled across
space time continuum expanse,
and (analogously, invisibly,
plus quixotically perched circumstance
amidst wide webbed worldly metaphysical,
intellectual, and existential kants),
yet unable to disguise me
porous (poor ass) student advance
barely getting promoted,
cuz sigh re: Seine ed lee
imaged myself prince charming
to frolic and prance,
and dreamt about being in France,
when teacher called on me,
I immediately (whistled like
a little teapot) appearance,
whereby steam issued
out chrome dome
(scanned hull – i.e. numb
skull) affixed on
short and stout genetic grants,
which noggin always
(automatically) looked askance,
while me got alphabetically seated
from grades three to six
(mrs wells, mister stout,
missus shaner, and
miss rinderle respectively)
with absolute zero exuberance
(at Henry Kline
Boyer Elementary School,
I just recalled aforementioned
randomly accessed memory by chance
casually rifling thru
memory bank, freelance
sing, while pissing
away time performing,
"I gotta urinate dance,"
thus rendering painstaking years
perfecting penmanship style
(reference poem title)
executed with Liberace flamboyance,
whereat yours truly obsessively and
compulsively excelled at
duplicating signature compliance
plus crossing T's and
dotting I's with rapacious
perfectly ruled slants.
Capital letter …
Right now, please note: it is time to dust, not write.
Dust was eating away this besieged body;
Amassing with all the misery that delights in ambush.
It crept into secret crevices,
Quietly dulling senses, as it blended in;
Softly choking, mimicking flu,
Before weaving a blanket so thick
It embraced and insulated;
Gently burying body under the weight of
An elephantine duvet with speaking tongues.
Write now, right now that house pride has succumbed to ash
As caked and empty cans and bottles decorate.
The dustman hurried by the empty drum
For rubbish barricaded the front door.
The inconvenience: to eat, drink, shop, to pay bills
Without leaving one’s desk these days.
Friends and adversaries seep out of pens,
Alphabetically springing to colourful life.
Who dares miss a thought so precious, so elusive –
Might never occur again.
So grasp it, rack it; right, left lobe battle dire emotions and reason.
Let dust prevent thoughts from leaving from whence it came.
Incarcerate all grey matters.
Now one can write how it feels to have dust as qwerty companion.
Then fling open the door,
Let light and the world in.
Shout: “I write because I can.”
Full stop … Exclamation mark!
End.
(PS: begin again.)
ALPHABETICALLY REPENTIVE-
All I want is just another chance
Be it instantly so conceivably
Can I be forgiven even if I preform daily wrongs?
Do I merit such, this much forgiveness?
Every time I sin I call on Him
First my regrets, I confess Lord Jesus I’ve messed up
Give me another chance
Help me to be
I am so very, very, very, sorry
Just need another chance to
Keep in mind
Love is pure this I’m sure
My heart, my soul, my spirit
Never shall I go back on my word, Father…
Oh, my Lord, Oh, my heavenly Father
Please, please forgive me
Quite possible this is my last offering
Release me free me from my sins
So that I may see you again in the presents of the Son
Teach me to survive to stay alive on this ole world while I’m alive
United I stand in your mercies grace
Virtues flow, flowing from your love breast
Welcome I your ever-presents
X out, blot out my sins
You are my Father God, you’re my forgiving Lord
Zealot am I, I am gratefully forgiven
12/17/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Why this is my tale
Of my family tree and roots
The what and where
My Gaelic Celtic
Surname origins came
Straight out of my Liverpool home
Retracing my heritage right back to
The emerald island of Eire
Galway Bay
And the Wild Atlantic Way
Which paved the way
Where the
Ferocious O'Flaherty
Clan initially began and surname came
To Aughnanure Castle
On the shores of the Drimneen river
Where I myself have never previously been
Which I aim to put right and address
Because as they say and it's said
In order to know where you are going
You need at 1st to know
There fom whence you came
If no other reason
Apart from maybe just incase
In death you may well be returned
Indexed alphabetically under ones surname
Mine begining with the letter
" F '"
Moto and Meaning
Fortune Favors the Brave
Bright Rulers
Ferocious in both
Spirit and namesake
AWESOME describes God's works
BEAUTIFUL to look upon His face
COMPASSIONATE is Jehovah's overall
DEPENDABLE always to the human race
ETERNAL in the heaven our God reigns
FAITHFUL to all His children He did create
GRACE is God's righteousness at Christ's expense
HOLY, HOLY, HOLY Isaiah speaks truly great
IMPARTIAL shows God treats all very fair
JUST God is always a judge overall
KIND is this God to all that pass Him by
LOVE perfectly this the Lord is to all who call
MERCIFUL describes the depth of His forgiveness
NEAR is God's position on those who cry
OMNIPOTENT shows the Lord's amazing power
PROVIDENCE proves God's control in every sigh
QUICKENS His holy spirit within your heart
RIGHTEOUSNESS describes God in all His fullness
SOVEREIGN control the Lord is over everything
TRUSTWORTHY is our God, our blessedness
UNCHANGEABLENESS in character and state
VICTORIOUS overall in His will be done
WONDERFUL is all His works to be sure
XRISTOS (Christ in Greek) the blessed Jesus, God's son
YEARNING to come in and show His glory
ZEALOUS displays God as king bar none
diploma acquired magna cum laude – double entendre
Xlv years elapsed since
I (former long haired pencil necked geek)
bid alma mater adieu,
the quietest kid, who never said boo
nobody discerned handy dandy blues clue
what yours truly thought,
cause figurative blanks he drew
remaining quiet as a Unitarian church mouse
never uttered a dog gone peep
extrovertedness he did eschew
even now two score and five years
after donning mortarboard and gown few
and far between words spoken
courtesy me, a former
Norwegian bachelor farmer
Lake Wobegon mine imaginary home
solely without friends grew
impulse to become linkedin
through schizoid personality disorder
offered solitary existence
alone within emotional wilderness hue
cannot imagine loneliness
(analogous to be bajillion miles
from nearest neighbor
while housed within igloo
mattered not whether gentile or Jew)
at tender growing up age obliviousness
suffused every cell constituting
Matthew Scott Harris
interestingly enough yours
truly quite outspoken
thru dimpled cheeky
adipose characterized kazoo
flatulence courtesy pop slop
incorporating secret ingredient
intended to ward off licentious
pheromone exuding females loo
sing hormonal secretions,
anyway said unmentioned
quite tolerant spouse,
(who remained faithfully
married enduring quarter century)
despite incessant husband
buttuck blasting - courtesy moo
ving odoriferous soundcloud waves
issuing ass him tote across avast spatial plane
resultant impact on par with nu
cull lee air fallout ooh
noxious human air pollution pu
tress hint smell as natural deterrent
to sexual reproduction, nevertheless
semen aligned (alphabetically
by athletic prowess) think queue
wee warriors able, eager ready and willing to
increase chromosomal revenue
blaring semper fidelis
as lucky sperm pierces zona pellucida
wee acted screw yule us,
when call of the wild – bald truth
found me to ejaculate and spew
sticky goo, and stopped reproducing
after daughter number two
me unbiased, but both offspring
attractive in their papa's view.
Jinxed jesting jejune junior jobber...
just jabbering gibberish (A - I)
Again, another awkward ambitious
arduous attempt at alphabetically
arranging atrociously ambiguously
absolutely asinine avoidable alliteration.
Because...? Basically bonafide belching,
bobbing, bumbling, bohemian beastie boy,
bereft bummer, bleeds blasé blues, begetting
bloviated boilerplate bildungsroman,
boasting bougainvillea background.
Civil, clever clover chomping, cheap
chipper cool cutthroat clueless clodhopper,
chafed centenary, codifies communication
cryptically, challenging capable, certifiably
cheerful college coed.
Divine dapper daredevil, deft, destitute,
doddering, dorky dude, dummkopf Dagwood
descendent, dagnabbit, demands daring
dedicated doodling, dubious, dynamite,
deaf dwarf, diehard doppelganger, Doctor
Demento double, declaring depraved
daffy dis(pense)able dufus Donald Duck
derailed democracy devastatingly defunct.
Eccentric, edified English exile,
effervescent, elementary, echinoderm
eating egghead, Earthling, excretes,
etches, ejaculates, effortless exceptional
emphatic effluvium enraging eminent,
eschatologically entranced, elongated
elasmobranchii, emerald eyed Ebenezer,
effectively experiments, emulates epochal
eczema epidemic, elevating, escalating,
exaggerating enmity, enduring exhausting
emphysema.
Freed fentanyl fueled, fickle figurative
flippant fiddler, fiendishly filmy, fishy,
fluke, flamboyantly frivolous, fictitious,
felonious, fallacious, fabulously fatalistic,
flabbergasted, fettered, flustered, facile,
faceless, feckless, financially forked,
foregone, forlorn futile fulsome, freckled
feverish, foo fighting, faulty, freezing,
fleeting famously failing forecaster, flubs
"FAKE" fundamental fibber fiat, fabricating
fiery fissile fractured fios faculties.
Desecration, desertion, designation,
yours truly doth poetically dislodge
destabilization, destination, description
I auto deftly, but did not dodge
regarding destitution, hodgepodge
comprising 2009 Hyundai Sonata
wheely tired to noodge, yet cannot
drive out accursed tread
full fate, nor outdodge.
Critical breakdowns spanned decks
cumulative deleterious effects,
thus versatile reasonable rhyme I flex
cuz, methinks paragon of evil spirit did hex
issued hardened, gnarled, index
finger pantomiming strangling necks
accountable incorporating potential
yet steered clear dire wrecks.
Approximately August 2018
to present i.e. January 2, 2020):
one malfunction after
another did not abate
voluntarily listed quasi alphabetically
in order demonstrate
pennilessness incurred courtesy
every red cent, I did hate
to squeeze out checking account, irate
mood a one worded understatement,
nonetheless I venerate
to express absolute zero
tolerance to communicate
quick succession prohibitive
mechanical malfunctions,
I painfully delineate.
R&R PARKING BRAKE SHOES
PARK BRAKE SHOES
PARK BRAKE HARDWARE KIT BATTERY
PRE CER BRAKE PAD
BRAKE ROTOR
BRAKE CALIPER
BRAKE HOSE GENERATOR
SHOCK ABSORBER (driver side front),
TIRES (and sensor).
Hence prayerful notion woke
ah, think blinding and
ear splitting thunderstroke,
perhaps tardily to one slow poke
after eyes bugged out of head espying
invoice(s), I lamely mumbled okey doke,
what more could be said,
dang, me experienced ministroke,
thus doggone divine intervention
futility aye feebly did invoke,
the aforementioned summarized
list bloke not surprisingly
depressing state affects
garden variety bloke,
understandable a worse than
(think) one who gasps and doth choke
I remember my mom having a collection of hats she stored under her bed.
For any occasion that could arise…she had a hat to set atop her head.
Moms of today are different…often they go out with their heads bare
because of this we don’t often realize…all the hats they wear.
If we tried to count all their hats...we can’t…for the list goes on indefinitely
perhaps one way to approach it...would be alphabetically.
Moms are Accountants, Babysitters, Chauffeurs...They do what Doctors, and Electricians do
They are Farmers, Governors, Housekeepers, and Ice cream vendors too.
They are Janitors, Kitchen and Laundry workers, and Maids who clean the floor.
They are Nurses, Optometrists, Painters, Quality control inspectors…there’s more.
They are Receptionists, Seamstresses, Teachers…Umpires…and not always soft spoken…they are Valets, Wardens, X-Ray technicians who can tell if that bone is broken.
They are Youth counselors and every Mom I know is a keeper of the Zoo
If you’re keeping track that’s 26 different hats...26 different jobs that all Moms do.
Moms are the original and still the best multitaskers the world has ever met.
In fact, I didn’t run out of hats for them...I ran out of alphabet.
I guess it’s a good thing each job doesn’t have a hat that sits atop Moms head
for there wouldn’t be enough room to store them in boxes beneath their beds.
They are visionaries, they are cheerleaders, so much of our existence they adorn
yet they had no experience being a mom until their first child was born.
For it was at that miraculous moment in a panic mixed with calm
when the doctor handed them their baby and said, “Congratulations…you’re a Mom!”
And to any Mom who might not have given birth…might not have been there from the start…here’s to all the Mom hats you’ve worn once you opened up your heart.
Do you remember that miraculous feeling…with a mixture of panic and calm…
whether you chose the moment…or the moment chose you…
when you became a Mom?
And therein lies the hat that encompasses all the rest...the hat called motherhood
and to all you Moms out there…I must admit…you make that hat look good.
So to all the Moms everywhere,
here’s wishing you a wonderful Mother’s Day…for all the things you do…
for all the many hats you wear…
our hats are off to you.
Ranks of glossy printed editions
squeezed into a concertina of space.
The acrylic smell of new books
is cordite to my nose.
Then in softer contrast,
the musky ambiance of the old and well-thumbed,
a well used dust on dust-covers.
A tactile nosegay of leather-bound
classics.
Fact or fiction,
all are revelations revealed.
The appeal of the alphabetically ordered,
arrayed in an athenium
of only passing inquiry.
Movies have usurped many of these stories,
as well as Wikipedia factoids, reviews, e-books,
and word of mouth accounts.
I crouch and stretch
in a confined alcove for a few volumes
that have kept their obscure tales
under cryptic wraps.
I could take them home, maybe fill a single shelf;
speed-read my way through,
read the blurbs and the last chapters,
just in case I am ever asked.