Long Behavioral Poems
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water cradles embryonic fetus in utero until birth
a necessary ingredient that fosters new born and also original life
heavens relinquish liquid pearl shaped dewdrops to quench the earth
fertilization of ova and sperm when specific conditions rife
else womb and uterus will not expand to a sizable girth
yet despite ideal biological criteria met emotional strife
could undermine this miracle to bring cries and mirth
as witnessed by this husband from debut of offspring by wife
whose first pregnancy necessitated induced labor so doctor could head to the club
golf field plush with deep green swards from freshly fallen gentle recent rain
flushing out the ordinarily hidden now vulnerable grub
from predators on land or those soaring high like an aero plane
susceptible critters helpless to escape from meteorological crafted tub
condemned to become fodder for prey within the biological food chain
critical for balance of nature as an airport hub
serves departure point for global travelers who rely on this networked brain
similar but not exactly like those in search of ale scout out the local pub
lick kingdom to forswear vow to abstain from drink which tonic doth wring
appeasement like precipitation from the sky nourish flora/fauna with mead
either elixir a balm to parched thirst satiated from man-made or natural spring
yet the latter serves the gamut of species to feed
without inebriation nor pennilessness from addiction accompanied by ka-ching
of last red cent acquired from tireless labor or mental task type deed
and rather than being a curse with bodily harm, the rain a blessing does bring
watering parched land versus how former engenders violent behavioral breed!
Because my own behavioral issues,
and my own public political and economic issues,
follow my own vocal trauma communication concerns
and bad-health memories,
It seems my most effective management therapies
usually begin more cooperatively
more quietly spoken in vocal kindness,
and then move on to behavioral mindfulness
to focus on expressing active compassion,
as needed
and invited,
verbally and non-verbally.
If I can leftbrain need to articulate cooperative intent
and rightbrain feel compassionately active hope,
then healthier integral behaviors tend to follow
by seeking co-acclimation
in-between these self/other needs with co-arising feelings
affluently/effluently communing.
I do not conclude
from these experiences and memories
that behavioral therapies are misguided
or misdirected.
But, I do both want and feel
behaviors are non-verbally and verbally communicated,
with or without aggressive competitive intent,
and usually somewhere ambiguously in-between
interdependence and fragmentation,
regenerative and degenerating investments
spent and dynamically returning.
Hour hands clock back sixty minutes of Autumn
Round about this same of month every year, what a bum
er, and inconvenient truth diverged from this chum
purposelessly manipulating a hold over
sans yesteryear doth drum
a sensation of jet lag (with earth in the balance)
as if flying within time machine at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride invariably finds me
feeling a bit ticked off and glum
and in no mood to rhyme, nor be leer re: cull
juiced barely tantamount to gather scattered wits
sin tide, and express mood as hoe hum
fortunate, this chronological seismic shift nada wide, ah assume
nonetheless, mein kempf cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics
comb pluck hated off jangling black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and booring into quick ribald sand trap doom
ming an inducement for emergency convoy, when pitched from
sea to figurative shining sea – gram ma mother earth glum
where live yikyak wired vanguard trulia tried optimism to hum
nonetheless, swallowed down behavioral sink went – me mum
bling bloviation, once worth matchless peerage, now pitched numb
lee into morass of temporary confusion, where plumb
line delineating circadian rhythm offset, when athwart pilot rum
man strait ting and bickering with Lilliputians slum
bring within islets of langerhans defiantly thumb
ming nose, where body, mind & soul weeknd viz a bully did cower
hence mister clock, who got high-jacked 3600 seconds per hour
experienced head, thorax and abdomen diminishing in power
wrought indistinguishable Whitsuntide as sour
grapes imposing ill fitting sea legs, which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace, resoundingly surrendered,
and back slid vis a vis space/time continuum did devour.
Black hole event horizon indeed kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
Sucker punched the band wagon of father time, whose riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic fractional second bored
quirky shenanigans toying with chronometers
counter point of view shifted to oppose this minute accord.
Tritina (three tercets with one final line).
I will return as you taught me to read a god gifted total benign, even after nine
I will return as you taught me to see the specific Night of Knight M Shyamalan
I will return as you taught me to listen to the nitty gritty a lot, and the system
told the family sift an autistic family food, Trying dough for far too long in frame
They are class of mishaps, birds of the same feather and you are a linear secular
practice along one way, the other one is pedagogy of monolithic behavioral norm
I told time as I wrote once a power point key. Did commit a tavern charm
Time elapses and time begins, and time stamps the truest may, say so and so.
Time has her graceful heed to vilify the cover page elsewhere, to May to mow.
They blew the divine up, with the silentmost Neon light, landed, to reach for the show!
“feeling not thinking, soul with love linking ~
we attained God consciousness unblinking”
My brain told my heart,
"You're not very smart -
what you know ain't worth beans".
My heart told my mind,
"Do not be unkind",
but my brain doesn't know what that means.
This strange interaction
runs the contraption
that takes me from birth to the grave.
If they could agree,
then you might see
that I know just how to behave.
When my brain works like mad,
can that be so bad?
You could say it's a real go-getter.
Yet, when my behavioral art
comes from my heart,
it's then that I always feel better.
Donning rubber gloves, the wife does washing of clothes and dishes...
(plus cutlery, pots pans, et cetera) in the kitchenette sink.
She started what would immediately become
a first and last generation tradition
(the spouse as washer woman
and scullery maid)
soon after we moved here
eight years ago come July 1st, 2025.
I trumpet her pioneer spirit
to apply elbow grease
(to tackle tough
heavily stained articles of clothing
(after her weary cowboy husband
comes back home on the range
after a hot day rustling cattle)
think underwear of mine -
whereat even bleach
falls short of removing
stubborn noticeable discoloration)
such gusto similarly applied
to glassware or cookware caked
with crusty hardened food.
After washing wearable goods,
she squeezes the excess water
from saturated item(s)
and drapes still moderately wet garment
over drying racks
despite the availability
of clothes washers and dryers
here on the premises
of Highland Manor Apartments.
Though she continues to threaten
with colorful epithets
never to wash my clothes ever again,
her words ring hollow
when some time elapses
and... guess what?
yepper, her hands slide down
into the behavioral sink
and I make sure
to acknowledge gratitude,
yet admit to falling short
of filling in the blank
(with a select response),
when she asks me
what will I give her in return.
Earlier in our
almost thirty year marriage,
we (I more so than the wife)
used to be conditional
and if asked a favor,
the immediate response
from yours truly (me)
just so happened to be
what do I get in return?
That Pavlovian feedback loop
occurred way before
my libido took a kamikaze dive,
into a suicide mission
a strong suspicion arises
(but I dare not utter
a premature ejaculation)
videlicet that being adverse effects
linkedin with one or more
of the nine prescription medications
ingested for mental health issues
such as anxiety, dysthymia,
obsessive compulsive disorder,
and palmar hyperhidrosis
could be the only logical explanation,
and interestingly enough,
I breathe a sigh of relief
cuz all to often sexual fantasies
ofttimes filled every waking
and sleeping hour of mine.
Deliberation about courting death rooted
throughout mine psyche fueling sinister chortle
at least since bout with anorexia nervosa,
but... maybe ginned blood,
sans umbilical cord transfused in utero aortal,
though long since recovered, the intractable,
haunting specter, sans grim reaper
intertwining within every fiber of this mortal
rooted, grounded deep, and branched out
into each nook and cranny portal.
Said notion provoked,
when made painfully aware
youngest daughter (aged twenty)
plagued with similar thoughts,
damn genetics did maliciously engineer
clutching telephone while
seated at edge of chair
did apologetically, despairingly,
grievously... did air
pestilential, penitential, plenipotential... scare
re: distraction and understandable fear,
she might unwittingly plunge
into hopeless abysmal despair
falling prey into irrevocable
deathly hallows lair,
though kudos for her
from me, this sole Harris heir
to communicate, (albeit
hesitantly) into mine ear
suddenly wishing thy
Punim to be near,
but residing (about three hour drive
southeast of Portland, Oregon)
with my kid sister, attentive to welfare,
a sibling whose persona
doth show tender loving care
and concern, this papa
felt reassured there
would be every action taken
with sixth sense to beware
lest progeny exhibits
pointedly obvious lurching career
dramatic slide into behavioral sink
emergency measures sibling
immediately would commandeer,
hence somewhat relieved thee dear
beloved progeny receptive to hear,
this dada expressed his unconditional love,
and grateful psychological intervention offspring
boldly did declare
indicative professional help volunteer
really asserted necessary to stave off
how dice throw of fate unfair
to said lass, whose demise,
would abruptly kill this sonneteer!
Crimes twisted and horrible are solved by a group of Elite FBI profilers,
re-runs I watch even though I have seen them several times, it matters not.
In each episode the BAU (Behavioral Analysis Unit) solve a mystery.
My favorite character is Spenser, pretty boy, genius, special agent,
in eleven seasons, I followed each nasty crime, at the end my prize is a quote.
Now, I am waiting breathlessly for Season 12 to start in September.
All the characters lives are part of the drama, that makes it interesting to me.
Last episode of Season Eleven, hunky Derek resigns to care his wife and baby.
Most of the characters are like family, JJ, did you know, Henri is her real son,
interesting how Emily just faded away, and Garcia, baby girl, oh so flirtatious,
now has to find a new man to tease. Rossi, oh he is so serious, but I like him.
Do you know Gideon wanted out, they killed him in Season Ten, that was sad.
So you see, I know them all, I solve crimes with them, I am hooked for sure.
__________________________________
July 14, 2016
Poetry/Acrostic/Criminal Minds
Copyright Protected, ID 16-808-874-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Your Favorite Habit-Forming TV Show
sponsor, Tom Quigley
Fifth Place
Donning rubber gloves, the wife does washing of clothes and dishes...
(plus cutlery, pots pans, et cetera) in the kitchenette sink.
She started what would immediately become
a first and last generation tradition
(the spouse as washer woman
and scullery maid)
soon after we moved here
eight years ago come July 1st, 2025.
I trumpet her pioneer spirit
to apply elbow grease
(to tackle tough
heavily stained articles of clothing
(after her weary cowboy husband
comes back home on the range
after a hot day rustling cattle)
think underwear of mine -
whereat even bleach
falls short of removing
stubborn noticeable discoloration)
such gusto similarly applied
to glassware or cookware caked
with crusty hardened food.
After washing wearable goods,
she squeezes the excess water
from saturated item(s)
and drapes still moderately wet garment
over drying racks
despite the availability
of clothes washers and dryers
here on the premises
of Highland Manor Apartments.
Though she continues to threaten
with colorful epithets
never to wash my clothes ever again,
her words ring hollow
when some time elapses
and... guess what?
yepper, her hands slide down
into the behavioral sink
and I make sure
to acknowledge gratitude,
yet admit to falling short
of filling in the blank
(with a select response),
when she asks me
what will I give her in return.
Earlier in our
almost thirty year marriage,
we (I more so than the wife)
used to be conditional
and if asked a favor,
the immediate response
from yours truly (me)
just so happened to be
what do I get in return?
That Pavlovian feedback loop
occurred way before
my libido took a kamikaze dive,
into a suicide mission
a strong suspicion arises
(but I dare not utter
a premature ejaculation)
videlicet that being adverse effects
linkedin with one or more
of the nine prescription medications
ingested for mental health issues
such as anxiety, dysthymia,
obsessive compulsive disorder,
and palmar hyperhidrosis
could be the only logical explanation,
and interestingly enough,
I breathe a sigh of relief
cuz all to often sexual fantasies
ofttimes filled every waking
and sleeping hour of mine.
She is my father's sister
yet my own daughter.
She is that as her name says.
Nwannennaya ,my father's sister!
A pride to me,
A delight to the household.
On her way to the village stream,
She walks nimbly with an earthen pot
properly seated on a knotted 'lappa'
placed on her neatly cropped hair.
While walking along the weedy path,
She whistles and have
her waist beads shaken,
Shaking from the right and then left
in a form of rhythm.
Nwannennaya is one choice of
many men of Umuofia.
Her beauty is regal,one to behold.
At house chores,she's always at her best.
She aims greatly to be educated like
other young female adults of Umuofia,
To learn to read and write.
These,she'll merge with good behavioral patterns.
Nwannennaya,a pride to herself.
Nwannennaya,a pride to me.
Nwannennaya,a pride to the home.
Nwannennaya,a pride to Umuofia.
Nwannennaya,a pride to the society at large.