Long Anatomical Poems
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Ice Cold Water Equals Ultimate Thirst Quencher...
Especially experiencing onset dehydration,
this opinion shared by former consumer,
he quaffed truckloads sugary and sports drinks
found mine once sculpted baby boomer body
undergoing gender reorientation, particularly
nondescript breasts incrementally found
busting (rivaling playboy bunny chest)
necessitated this garden variety
NON GMO gluten free husband
"papa," an endearment
addressed by the missus
puzzled when her
brassieres went missing
loathe to believe what sounded
like cock and bull story
embarrassed, yet finally
relented into pestiferous
inquisitiveness hen pecking wife,
she stood agape, after I dare bare
unclothed upper torso revealed
floppy, limp biscuit sagging
sorry excuse for bosom
hence necessitating yours truly
to resort as partial crossdresser,
yet never foreseeing
anatomical morphology transforming
(analogous to mushroom popping up
following bucketloads of rain)
thus went cold turkey,
(as attested by this gobbledygook)
to swear off high caloric non nutritious
popular beverages
(generating bajillions dollars),
and additionally
forced non chipper infowar
i.e. internal three ring circuits
uncivil insurrection
(less than seven years ago)
as weeks elapsed months
(this unplanned resolution
dated early two thousand nineteen),
discarded over the shoulder boulder holder
in tandem with exercise
few times per week
plying twenty pound dumbbells
a pronounced reduction
saved me big bucks
undergoing cosmetic surgery!
fatty deposit usurped
my washboard physique
I can no longer lay claim
as pencil necked geek
mute tinny utterances futile
to write and/or speak
as recourse to cope with
displeasing body morphology
tis good n plenti humor I seek
to offset feeling morose, and
regular exercise regime to tweak
objectionable physiognomy,
would offend classic Greek
aesthetically lean body mass index
even lions, tigers, or bears,
would consider yours truly a freak
actually never in mein kampf,
as lovely bones creak
acceptance of physical,
(nor mental) self e'en as pipsqueak
wrought intimations just short
re: abominable mortal kombat total hate
me snow kidding man plus
loathing mine anatomical trait
invariably pitched mental
health in dire strait
I haint shy stating greater part
of life (mine) where fate
found me beset with feeling morose
inner dialogue tête-à-tête
attributed to more'n
one countless reason
sunk teeth into anorexia
as pit iff full adolescent date
even now chief among
reasons with rhyme, aye lowly rate
being adipose fatty deposit usurped
washboard physique long ancient history
no surprise competency not great
passive withdrawn demeanor set precedent
concomitantly plagued with
submucous cleft palate being risk averse,
in tandem being diminutive height meant
easy scapegoat target leant
convenience and regularly meant
chased, mocked, taunted...
by bullies helped rent
psyche asunder during impressionable years
nonetheless acutely cogent
whatever that might be worth, this gent
laments good n plenti
centsless opportunities got misspent
finding empowerment thru writing only recent
endeavor to cope with
empty nest syndrome event.
I Reckon Eyes Personal Necessity,...
Sans Arduous Ordeal
To assess meager
cradling aborted efforts
miscarried ambitions, I now berate
myself plethora sans lack
of accomplishments to date
and admit painful truth to self
of an ill prosperous lx roam man fate,
which life frivolous erratic
antics less productive slate
than if existence spent hovered
over an inter city heating grate
since squelched milestones wrought hate
red of apathy toward self, and spate
of penuriousness a tete a tete
meager financial cushion barely
keeps homelessness will ne'er abate.
~ April 13th, 1958 marked approximate initial
biological, chronological, and fetal ugh glue
tin nation, asper obstetric
prenatal confirmed commencement, in situ
i.e. womb (donned in his cute
itty bitty cap and gown), whence through
uneventful conception nine months
later lacked any blues clue
nonetheless, this earth
ling christened Matthew
Scott Harris made his unheralded debut,
albeit, then his
anatomical timer immediately
started counting down, loo
ping what seemed an eternity,
when mortality would be due,
vis a vis, meanwhile,
he awakened, discovered,
and galvanized transient
tenancy as he grew
since birth year month, and
date stamped upon this growing hue
man, who possibly felt thrust
out from warmth of womb
into ice cold sterility naked
like an Arctic monkey freezing in an igloo
a singular diaspora of
this "FAKE" gentile jew.
when on a lark, this primate shut his eyes
until sight formed slits doubling up as a wink
this earthling stared hard and scrunched brow
unintentionally mimicking,
the familiar Auguste Rodin statue
likened to a pose when one doth think
perhaps said captive pose pondering
(similar to me) about life on other planets
while I stared at lunar surface
akin to a disc or dime sized skating rink
awash with luminescence
and imaging himself whisked away
by an alien, synonymous
to the peculiar millions miles distant pastische
manifested entity than didst slink
a non hue man feline looking cat in the hat
comical creatures decked out entirely in pink
soft halos conjured up saintly mink
or...a far fetched thought suddenly
came to form in my mind,
that this har creature a found missing link
whose nocturnal glowing facade exploding charade
possibly a message
or motion nothing more
than routine smoothing out an anatomical kink
on front and back oh head resembling
a Doctor Zeus characterization,
viz a harmless rat fink
hm...maybe a vestigial progenitor
of former birth by Gaia now extinct
though from afar, the b52 shaped being
aye espied as fur ball affixed
with a long elephant like snout to drink
and appeared to lack occipital orbs,
yet evinced possible mode to see via a chink
impossible to restrain me noggin
appearing to nod and blink,
--------------------------------
hence entranced my attention fixed
from faint (perhaps a feint)
flickr ring meant as playful faux
role playing lunatic humorous acting wry
impossible to decode explicit antics
(of spacial cosmic guest),
no matter eyes nearly shut tight visual
wondering if non verbal communication
of mine correctly interpreted
meant to kibitz and vie
despite impossibility to validate,
a continuous effort yours truly did try
fixing thy gaze, nee straining
with alm aye might to esse spy
if cheap trick concocted entire visage,
which might not constitute life form
(admitting this chap to prevaricate,
and be full of baloney),
himself prone to confabulate
(dropped one to many times on the head)
when this rocky lunar image,
a moon scape comprising nothing
boot ham and cheese on rye.
She was an artist.
Her expertise was flowers and butterflies.
This new art teacher said they had to draw a man.
He had to be anatomical. It had to be indicative of muscles.
What about eyes? She asked. Can I give him green eyes?
Eyes and eyelashes were also fun for her.
No eyes or butterflies! He said sternly.
She kept her mouth shut, wisely not mentioning flowers.
The art teacher was satisfied.
This student was too quick-witted and smart.
He was better with students who were compliant and diffident.
He understood them better.
She knew her Pollyanna attitude irritated people.
But she barely knew him, so that could not be it.
She tried to control herself, but of course, flowers sprung out.
Just like they did in every painting she ever painted.
I imagine relief while feeling comfortably numb...
anesthetized courtesy central air
analogous to gulping down
a tall glass of ice cold water,
which equals ultimate thirst quencher,
especially for those
experiencing onset dehydration,
the following poetic opinion/editorial
shared by yours truly, a former consumer
who quaffed truckloads sugary and sports drinks
found mine once sculpted baby boomer body
undergoing gender reorientation, particularly
nondescript breasts incrementally found
busting (rivaling playboy bunny chest)
necessitated this garden variety
NON GMO gluten free husband
"papa," an endearment
addressed by the missus
puzzled when her
brassieres went missing
loathe to believe what sounded
like cock and bull story
embarrassed, yet finally
relented into pestiferous
inquisitiveness hen pecking wife,
she stood agape, after I dare bare
unclothed upper torso revealed
floppy, limp biscuit sagging
sorry excuse for bosom
hence necessitating yours truly
to resort as partial crossdresser,
yet never foreseeing
anatomical morphology transforming
(analogous to mushroom popping up
following bucketloads of rain)
thus went cold turkey,
(as attested by this gobbledygook)
to swear off high caloric non nutritious
popular beverages
(generating bajillions dollars),
and additionally forced non chipper infowar
i.e. internal three ring circuits
uncivil insurrection
(a tad more'n eighteen months ago)
as weeks elapsed months
(this unplanned resolution
dated June seventeenth
two thousand twenty two),
discarded over the shoulder boulder holder
in tandem with exercise
few times per week
alternating plying twenty pound dumbbells
and exercising viz pedaling
(quasi bicycle) machine
a pronounced reduction
saved me big bucks
undergoing cosmetic (Liposuction) surgery!
Aye Writhed With Agony...
Unbeknownst to any
innocent onlooker, aye
underwent extreme internal
torture with silent cry
ying whimpers, whence,
(either left or
right) post-
pubescent myopic eye
didst readily espy,
an aesthetically pleasing female,
and most likely stunning
to any other generic guy
and suddenly rendered mute, NO...,
NOT even daring
enough to say "hi,"
which close proximity of sizzling
hot babe wrought me fancying
myself being whisked away
(in a one horse
open sleigh, despite
the remote possibility livingsocial
in Montgomery County,
Pennsylvania suburban) igloo
to be frozen
with fear, petrified lo'
while terror seized thee Oh No
bliss oblige emotional status quo
of much younger Matthew
Scott Harris head to toe
induced a deplorable woe
imaging other (prospective
obscured individuals) probably
considered yours truly
tubby unstrung mama's yoyo,
and at this present time feline
less in timid
dated noticing a sultry,
leggy, and foxy anatomical
and physiological arrest
ting, though such hypothetical chest
a coy gal, nonchalantly, innocently
with non verbal expressed
charm and demurely
posing as if intending
to serve as guest
of honor, nonetheless,
this brief illusory invest
ment, sans quasi
voyeuristic poetic, shrug jest
sheen, and imagistic distraction,
thy sole rhythmical
motif, since n'er nest
sold with any
purdy young thang begrudging
natural animalistic proclivity,
which absence young adult quest
ting, oh yea
definitely in apropos now,
yet...that self deprived
self discovery stage of life,
that "smarts" me psyche,
when clumsy teen
age dating experience,
a electric kool
aid acid (litmus) test
until twilight age
senescence doth wrest.
Though amply rested, I still yawn
And feel energized after
light exercise doth spawn
break through viz mental impasse,
where endeavor to coax
germinating ideas to sprout
about as successful as
buzzfeeding, jump/kick starting
rooting brown lawn
to whether drought.
Long fostering literary creativity
analogous to prying open
figurative curtain drawn
shut tight within
thy noggin unresponsive
even when brute force
strongly applied, but still...
no progress (for aging Pilgrim)
made come crack of dawn,
thus I temporarily abandon intent.
An effort to craft satisfactory poem or prose,
(which coveted, kindled, unexpected...
futile endeavor deluges me when
least able to jot down eureka,
whereby brainstorm burst adrip
saturating yours truly head to toes
dribbling out nostrils,
asper my porpoise size bottle nose,
hence this feeble effort to appease.
No expected attaboy, kudos, bravoes...
discerning metaphorical whaling expedition
beseeching, imploring, soaking...
mine mindscape with
profuse voluminous wisdom
sans anonymous followers
waiting for me to compose
usual meaningless gibberish or
rare profound nugget of wisdom to disclose.
While thrashing within cyber sea,
possibly abandoning ambition to compose
superbly laced, ginned, coined...
poetic adage gee oh
into magnum opus masterpiece
eye catchingly exotic creation
exquisite as silk negligee pantyhose
(yea...perhaps yours truly
will also send near nude selfie,
a worse fate than death
cab for cutie)
and chuck stock inhibition
brokering favorable frescoes
tattooed across flesh
accentuating anatomical contours of flab
wharf flexing muscles simulates geckoes,
(albeit selling progressive insurance)
appearing to slither across body electric
predictably ejaculating Freudian peccadillos,
now bolt upright - ******** awakened,
no longer sleepy,
but dwarfed by giant spuds,
no small potatoes
eh...yar right to deem this poker face
eccentric - born (free) this way,
how Elsa to explain (without lion)
rambling riotous rumination
one among many bumptious desperadoes,
and oh...mooch hoe gracias reading poem
bumbling, degenerating, fizzling...
into lobbying primal salvoes.
Incrementally corporeal essence, here
to fore i.e. figurative spear
tire of mine, doth elicit despair
daily appall, thus I air
part tickle laurel lei objection
able bane, cuz this tear
rubble flabbiness a glare
ring anatomical feature, I swear
shape shifted into a dare
ridge hubble unsightly
bulge ballooning mere
lee (just south of nada so clear
lee belly button), where
former wash board abdomen veer
hilly subsumed by displeasing scare
really hated love handles glare
ring paunches noticeable, especially
when belly bare
adduce sing the culprit bing
one or more daring
pharmacological prescription eliminating
debilitating panic attacks,
albeit re: fashioning
my metabolism, but
necessary medications giving
immeasurable un bull heaving
relief to this generally
skeptical person instilling
joyus rapture, where
psychological state jitterbugging
(a slight bit of hyperbole,
I tango with) kickstarting
long overdue ability
to experience living
shorn of paralyzing anxiety,
yes every now and again
isolated heated flare ups making
stellar appearance, asper
wren literal "NON
FAKE" pennilessness,
and a concomitant stress
inducing circumstance naming
management due to inspect
occupied apartment units
this next oncoming
week (October seventh -
thirteenth) inducing palpitating
heart, irritable bowel syndrome,
and non quitting
excessive (no pun intended -
heavy handed) perspiration,
but generally "speaking" quieting
torturous unbearable
woebegone raging
adrenaline hellishly riotous smiting
my body electric
condemning torturing
poisoning relentlessly (like
stinging scorpions) upending
many prime decades vice wrenching
yoking ambivalence nose zing
worthlessness toward
total mortal kombat!
In words, straight from this writer's heart ~
my soul, or some other sensitive anatomical part,
I consider a poem a failure, without success
when poetry readers consider it a bloody mess.
Sometimes I write in the midst of discombobulation.
It's catharsis in a bottle of ink to a confuzzled mind.
Relief to me when I'm puzzled, not when I am blind
for to see what others don't, soothes my frustration.
In my thoughts, black and white scenes are flitting.
There's an urgent need of color, but none seem fitting
that my pen and ink consider worth transcribing.
It's discombobulating for me, as if I'd been imbibing.
Trying to sound cohesive when using clever metaphor
can weigh me down until I am prone, crying on the floor.
There are themes in some contests that seem ill-defined,
when I've no clue about a subject and I feel confined.
I'm drowning in quicksand, and no one can pull me out.
It's grimly perplexing to be filled with such brooding doubt.
My words begin to ramble, and I get lost in a blunder fest.
Seriously, it's a conundrum. About this woe, I wouldn't jest.
I wind up scribbling sonnets without meter or hint of rhyme.
A saturnine absurdity and a complete waste of my time.
An infinity of feckless, ineffectual lines without vitality,
so much so that my poem winds up N/Ad. Another fatality.
I need to find a way to make other poets savor the taste
of what I breathe in and then exhale so that it's interlaced
with profound meaning that others might comprehend,
instead of mere words on a page, that no editor could mend.
I don't mind constructive criticism. I'd be a foolish ingrate
to not accept well-meaning advice. Wisely, I'd contemplate
changing the course of a poem that simply doesn't mesh.
I'm not so discombobulated to realize when I need to refresh.