Long Blindingly Poems

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Perspective

wanton moments secure the thrill of riding
waves of multiple convergence points
reality just ain’t what it used to be...when
there was light and then there was not...
attitude breathes her fiery breath of creation
planets birth, first blush of remembrance
existence happens to each, forfeiting strong
words and emotions embedded in subtleties
framing everything occurs when stoppage is
engaged as moments coalesce past their
reduction points...strength occurs when integrity
blindingly recognizes the disparity between
two or more objects attempting to become
something other than what is perceived
force engages the tempo aligning the fanned
rays of emergence.  Fire ignites the notion
that we are not all one rather part of the whole
perspectives confuse the mind of the holy
if one drop is that...isn’t it all?


After Our Outing At Liberty Ministries

(Sanatoga, Pennsylvania location)

I luxuriated as inkling of spring 2021
offered sneak preview today
March third as temperatures
reached low fifties Fahrenheit.

Yours truly began reading
one paperback book
(I purchased three),
and absorbed daily dose of Vitamin D
while secretly ensconced
within favorite nook.

This middle aged rue stirring bummer
favors warmth, boot haint no stranger to cold,
when dark hen stormy wintry days
eggs hit from Arctic portal enfold
ding Atlantic Seaboard
in a blizzard of bitterly, blindingly, and
brutally sub zero temperatures
from an occasional nor'easter
fiercely gripping hold,

the majority years, sans this prolific
recalcitrant scrivener lived
in various and sundry abode
housed within Southeastern
Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
with 19473 current zip code,
and during my boyhood recall,

how massive ice sheets did erode
the (then) opened expansive farmland,
in preparation for planting time,
where runnels of frigid water flowed
with childish cheeks exposed to glowed
after hours upon
many a green acre got tilled and hoed

despite feeling energized and refreshed
with arms and legs ne'er frozen
aye didst eagerly await with exuberant yen
kickstarting thy body electric
experiencing hearthstone nook
designed and built by Christopher Wren
after heading indoors counting fingers
and toes to make sure, I still got ten

soon hearing the chorus of fauna,
and floral kaleidoscope of color
aground or taking wing
thus, upon thawing out thoughts
drifted toward approaching spring,
the season revitalizing
dormant natural inhabitants,

whose excitement (like mine) didst ping
announcing the debut of fecundity
nsync with screeching 
from the lizard king
who entered and did break on thru 
doors of fame and fortune  
becoming out of this world legendary 
rock and roll icon,
nevertheless, he joined twenty seven club
for permanent fling.
Form: Rhyme

Where Once Verdant Rolling Highlands

Where once verdant rolling highlands...

Spanned into infinite vista
far as these myopic eyes can see
now yellowing Whitmanesque
leaves of grass encompass field of vision.

Nary a dark dreadnaught cloud in sight,
nor unbeknownst if/when threatening storm
looms on horizon slaking parched land
delivering precipitation quenching thirsty terra firma.

I too experience vicarious dehydration
during bonafide dry spell
constituting theoretical string
hoop fully curtails weather beaten
flora and fauna

conceding blindingly bright
cloudless summer days
across disc (sky)
to amply liquidate shriveling assets.

Unbeknownst when spate of rainlessness,
(i.e. I pray for moderate soaking precipitation)
thwarting immediate indications
meteorologically signalling onset
regarding definition of drought.

Nothing more humbling
than cacophonous thunderstorm
nsync with jagged bolts of lightning
accompanying drenching downpour
analogous to downed wall of water
cascading from upper atmosphere
intermittently pelting landscape

albeit immediately, magically, quixotically...
transforming parched land (Highland Manor)
into profuse lusciousness
harkening Edenic denouement.

Impossible mission (this simple bumpkin)
(one local Schwenksville yokel)
(Civil War union soldier incarnate)
to forecast today/tonight
eventide of June twenty fifth
two thousand and twenty,

when Zeus will doctor
animals and plants courtesy
of requisite life source
also known as H2O,
comprising above mentioned
two hydrogen atoms
and one oxygen atom.

Ironic, how approximately
three quarters (seventy five sense)
engulfs planet Earth,
yet many environments
suffer inadequate deluges,
more so now with climate change

(global warming) increasing temperature
across oblate spheroid
compromising habitable places,
yet methinks coronavirus (COVID-19)
gave mother nature
much needed reprieve

cleansing heavily polluted urban areas
courtesy partial lockdown and restraint,
whereby *****sapiens
deterred, jackknifed, prohibited...
spewing noxious forth fossil fuel byproducts
encouraging, mustering,

plying, telecommuting, zooming
avast array of activities
augmented by virtual reality
technology supplanting mass transit,
thus diminishing deadly toxins
absorbed by all creatures
great and small.

Time To Shower When Pervasive Odor of Ureic Acid

Time To Shower...When Pervasive Odor Of Ureic Acid

Doth strongly waft, sting,
and nauseate about me
olfactory nose flying zone
bombarding cilia of
nasal passageway analogous
to displeasure wrought by

crashing, deafening, exploding,
ear splitting xylophone,
also synonymous isolated like
barenaked lady within
remote location of Lake Woebegone,
voluntarily forced to bathe

in brutally cold
mountain waters oxbow lake
vaguely resembling out
size topographical wishbone
rescue unlikely since
bajillion miles from radio tower,

thus state of the art
electronically sophisticated videophone
good as worthless resignation,
sans fate linkedin tubby
mother nature's cryogenic specimen
more'n murmuring undertone,

where huge Arctic glacier overshadows
infinitesimally microscopic human,
one speck kin zee ditched
*****sapien subsumed
under superfluous tombstone
as frozen fountain head,

where Atlas shrugged,
nonetheless incongruous yen
to purge mine offensive odor,
where civilization footprint
sole lee mine alone in wilderness
thus farcical reason (without rhyme),

atypical, farcical, and poetical title,
yours truly didst stirrup and spur
inexplicable search for soapstone,
yet prospect to don measly frame
without gay apparel

(beastie boy bit figurative bullet,
and buttressed body in buff)
immediately augmented primal scream
to trumpet heebeegeebees
(teeth chattering yodeling
rendition re: stayin alive)

from this Rhinestone
survivalist cowboy wannabe,
began feeling comfortably numb,
and immediately prone
to become human popsicle,
especially when sub zero temperature

immediately froze water splashed skin
(like glassy sheet of ice)
glancing viz albedo effect
as blindingly white
snow capped mountains outshone
albino crags, offering

absolute zero, yes none
reassurance with insulated moonstone
sleeping bag useful
as yolked with lodestone
around neck - slow death by
freezing this knucklebone,

who sought cleanliness,
(and panacea to immortality)
joining exclusive polar bear club
(Ursus Maritimus very selective,
and only chose me) even
at expense of more'n

just frozen jawbone
plus Jack frost bitten cockles turned
deep purple as inkstone
used to write re: scrawl epitaph
on icicle glommed headstone.

The Warmth of My Being

What is there to say 
When there’s red 
Running down your body 

Like a downpour 
Blindingly searching 
For a storm drain

And the comfort you seek 
Is looking back 
At you 

Like a colorful painting 
Being stripped 
To a blank canvas

The fear 
In our pupils 
Were mirrored 

Yet my blood 
Was wet
On my hands 

You fiddled 
With your jacket and keys 
Like the excuse to leave you wanted to find 

I was
Naked with the goosebumps 
Rising in the draft 

Under 
The dark golden glow 
Of the kitchen light 

Clutching 
Myself like a blanket 
While you hurried out the door 

Leaving me with the warmth 
Of my being 
Pulsing out of my mind
© Ali Lynn  Create an image from this poem.


Peril Us Aye Grant To Be Hurried Lee Read

Armageddon wold be an amazing boon
to accompany ourselves amidst others in rubble strewn cocoon 
or perchance an arid extra dry spell blows humungous dune
donning any brave soul to weather 
   fierce-some dust bowl appearing like a ghoulish goon
vis a vis via global sand man disallowing any inhabitant 2b immune
whereat autumnal days will mimic those analogous to tropical June
day where nary a species of flora nor fauna, 
   which latter muffled cry viz Claire de lune
barely heard above the blindingly pitched 
   (scoring major lunar home run) when earth's moon
appeared to be batted, snatched, and whacked - 
   piñata like casting darkness at high noon
this out of other worldly debacle 
   (viz: a scene of apocalyptic, cosmic and epic rune
from twilight zone re: outer limits offsetting 
   sole millennial Gaia satellite believed rigged forever) - 
   which end of planetary status quo came soon
er than expected, accompanied by Gustav Holst eponymous tune
once Luna rung seismically, titanic ally uprooted, violently wrenched 
   prior to crash landing at ground zero rocked and rolled out of orbitz 
   before careering, and screaming thru the atmosphere
   analogous to a near full term baby in utero yanked out of womb.

though the above dynamic gigantic jack-knifed 
   nihilistic quantum spectacular universal wreckage
sans the inner sphere of solar system 
   (known to mankind, when said creature, an outlier)
   whence even amidst the early 
   bipedal hominids that throve a sage
no event (whether natural or caused by human error), 
   would compare neither cap cha, when are bit rage
emasculated, and wrought onto the terrestrial firmament 
   no way to measure nor gauge
the depth, length, and scope of total and 
   absolute value eradicating any trace of simian equipage
reducing the arrogant, conceited, ego-maniacal, dotage
boot far-fetched science fiction phenomena would
   witness civilization captive in their own technological cage!
Form:

Premium Member Who Are We At Our Core

Sweet as a rose, shyly fading
Beneath the stars, graceful, waiting
For the gentle sun to stir, daybreak
Lifting all the worries from the soul,
Stirring the joy, the love, the hope
Inside the one who knows, with life
Laughter and tears – kissed
By the dreams, the prayers, the promise
Lasting kisses, sweet as the mystery
Struggling to see through yesterday’s pain,
Into the kindness, a moment’s peaceful rain.

Vibrant as a yearning’s history, trembling
With the joy, the music, the colors…
Painted on the soul, renowned for the wonders,
Noted by the moments, on seas of evergreen,
Silent and soothing, serene like the leaves,
As they dance, eagerly, in the breeze, a soft breeze.

Sincere and silent, sighing – listening,
Through the rustling tales, stories of grace,
Nestled amid the stardust promises, 
Stirring faith and encouraging the rhythms,
Tones so still, blindingly real…
Honest in ways that will not go away,
Truthful and frank, authentic
Lending its poetry to the silence,
Tempting away the quiet,
Erasing all the darkness, the shadows
Lost amid the forest’s black,
Blended out of focus by mossy carpets,
Quivering branches edged with wrens and robins,
Appealing to the softly spoken hearts
Who hear the joy in the beckoning of a dewdrop.

At the core of my spirit lives a willingness
To give nervous bits of my being –
Little pieces of me, rounded into offerings…
Kindness, gentle and graceful,
Compassions that only God above
Could have swirled into my blood,
Pieces of light, mingled with fires so bright…
Reassuring the day, breaking away –
This is me, my gift to those who breathe…
Silent gifts of hope and peace,
Into my heart, my soul, my dreams –

All the me that I can give – the me that sees…
Through the starlight, into the daylight,
Where there are mists of sincerity, serenity,
Breathless tears meant to cleanse me…
From the ways that pain can penetrate the spirit,
Leaving a trail of sorrow and grief,
A trail of loss that will be washed away,
By the love that cures my soul’s worst heartache!

Who we are at our core?...
The blazing light who angels restore,
The beautiful sight of hope, faith and love,
The brilliant write from God’s pen –
Writing our story, where at our core…
There is a feeling that the love we explore…
Is the perfect love that can open each door!

Morning Dew

Inwardly consumed at this early hour
Turmoil and confusion
The bad inside growing beginning to tower
Love remaining just an illusion.
The day already starting to sour.
My heart is just another intrusion.
The suns light reviving a flower
While within it simply rains pollution.

The sky turns from black silk to blindingly bright.
Gloom seems irrational.
The mornings breeze has a chilly bite.
As change becomes inevitable.
Sometimes wishing it was always night.
Where a creation can become sensational
Everything must start anew within the morning light.
Except my love which will remain unconditional 

A weathered broken heart not shiny and new
Beaten and torn apart
Battle worn black and blue
But still a loving heart
A possession held by so very few
A priceless work of art.
Once you thought love simply grew
Needing only a seed to start
If you had only knew 
The art of a heart from the start is it can only love in part.
 Until it receives that love back from you.
Form: Prose

Strikingly Crafty Logomaniac Presents

Strikingly crafty logomaniac presents...
what else... his trademark blatherskite!

While sprawled comfortably
numb upon davenport
Iowa daily dose of poetic mishmash,
thus yours truly couches, kneads, sports...
his imponderable matted
swiftly styled balderdash
noah intent to kindle
potential ark enemy, nor abash

please pardon your
garden variety philologos,
preparing himself for backlash
he spouts nonsense words
with chutzpah and brash
his logorrhea affliction begets
meaningless rot i.e. namely ishkabibble,
where scapegoated test dummies crash

inscrutably, dumbly, busily blankly
boxing, blinking, batting... eyelash
hijacking, flouting, disregarding... covenant,
not causing corpus callosum damage
basically self made edict equals hogwash,
within one North American banana republic
predicated upon fiat gnash
trumpets blatantly non subliminal,

subordinate, subtle... ho hum
messages cuz bosh to liberty we smash
with most popular refrain
"send her/him back" cash
hearing purported dispensable
deportee with swash-
buck killing bravado
marquee, where klieg lights
blindingly broadcast in a flash.

"FAKE" mania loosed doth stall
refugees, where desperation witnesses
land of milk and honey,
perhaps some heading to Broomall,
who if necessary crawl
escaping forced sex trafficking poverty,
persecution, violence... downfall,
viz puppet government

tricked out noble (no bull) border wall
configured as demilitarized zone
hostilility spewing noxious,
poisonous, venomous gall
courtesy commander in chief
who essentially hoops to forestall
his impeachment proceedings
bristling, ranting, scathing... twitter feeds

spewing bosh raining hatred filled squall
spouting jingoistic rhetoric
atop anointed hall
of the mountain king
eerily similar to Taj Mahal
firing expletive epithets

assenting military mandating withdrawal
loosing vicious police and/or junkyard dogs
declaring no exemption against marshall
law innocence absolute zero guard
as sharp teeth nsync with flesh maul
cue hideous sinister laughter
welcome to danse macabre ball!

Dani a Charming Cvs Pharmacist

within Zieglerville, pennsylvania

genuine snow white hair 
upon her noggin doth adorn,
perhaps she will divulge to me (in private) 
after i croon (to said lass), 

the melody of Jimmy Crack Corn
hmm...or, maybe this mission 
perchance twill be doomed from the start, 
and hence finding me forlorn 
thenceforth, a backup contingency measure, 

would warrant me to don my thinking cap,
and for extra ordinary reinforcement unfold 
each Taj Mahal shaped ear flap
plus (for reinforced ironic steeliness), 

aye also resort to buttress 
any aural "stormy Dani yelling) 
via walled in interlap, 
which accouterment functions 
as a double agent i.e. (or, 

to be rather crude), 
an audiological jockstrap
to vet or figuratively kneecap
any unwanted infiltrating leaping lap
ping "FAKE" distracting news 
inducing madcap

mass media circus 
driving this generic teetotaler
to pour himself a nightcap 
essentially providing wig gull room 
with very little margin of ear err, or overlap
against bigwigs to trumpet pap 

pill low ma rendered free and clear 
asper insidious (mama mia) paparazzi 
charting imp pea ching fear
bringing out bare arms 

most likely something internuclear 
simply to discover visa vis authenticity 
if cute employee 
(sporting hair 

white as the virgin snow), 
which doth simmer and glare
blindingly, thus necessitating sunglasses 
(I choose the Ray-Ban brand)
as recommended by cited 

all time favorite pharmacist
who unwittingly (or simply because 
my myopic eyes didst stare)
fixedly - drawn to such a darling (doll ling)
explaining any reason to go THERE
to CVS - that tis where.

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