Long Bowled over Poems
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While constipation kept me in arrears,
asper daily writing,
thus ordinarily straight forward
practiced process culling material,
(a daily endeavor generally mastered
by your truly), this moment bares
with more difficulty, thus derriere's
functionality created backlog
(of personal business),
hence presenting literary chops,
a real bummer today,
disgruntlement with Fanny Pack,
(which gripe flares
cheeks) pitted me considerably
behind schedule, so...here's
the scoop (hoop fully solid explanation
for my absence) amidst
virtual chattering class
otherwise known as Face booking,
Instagramming, and Whatsapp
pin with ma Jeers
zee Boyz'n the hood,
ah...also dem "Back Street Boys"
oh mother f***er...,
I just learned day got eliminated
and blocked, (cuz o' their wiped out,
wasted, sunken,
flushed, dumpy untidily
bowled over appearances),
Sergeant Scott Coreless forced their
evacuation citing Lumineers
as more ass toot,
hence the emcee then welcomed,
opening dreck "Johnny On The Spot,"
and the "The Proctologists,"
who performed before nares
Naked Lady sighted spectators, with
lovers spooning within cheeky pairs
otherwise, essentially a pooped out crowd
sitting on their haunches,
while myself perched
some distance away
with my comfortably numb tuckus
atop the porcelain Goddess
a awaiting emetic to expel
for iCloud to finish updating
before continuing with sign out...
from this Macbook Pro,
which aye sheepishly pro state
as the long winded soup peer
re: or (flatulence riddled) explanation.
she was his blind date
he was fearful she might be like the others
she was more than any of them had ever been
he watched her from the café window
knowing she was better than him
realizing she was a queen
knowing he was not a king
the rain made sense now
another disappointment
she was way too good for him
he nearly left,
but his grandmother’s whisper made him stay
give her a chance, she said
let her show you her goodness
he was amazed by her beauty
and her lovely personality
totally in love now
almost too bowled over to speak
she took this as a sign of strength
he reminded her of her father
they had more dates
less grayscale, more colorful
she was his everything
he was in love
The number four shows form, pleasurable are their colours
Where normally it takes daylight to glow, to nurture natures flower
Resonating to elation, affirming these coloured bonds
The indifference of, blinded severely in respond
Amidst his darkening dark, sighs abound from two
In preach, clouded sermon is relayed, to run this virgin through
*~*
Such closeness in revel they, tongues asping if desiring more
What shall be the outcome, who addresses life's future door
Fervent zeal remains, against this backdrop of darkened hell
Yet, she demands and delivers he, again his body swells
*~*
Content, now comfort reached, she resides within his grip
Engulfed has the white become on this entering darkening trip
Saliva drenched, his head now bowed, engrossed, achievement said
Enriched by absorbing the white, amidst both, this stead
Her looks of hunger abound, naked like birth, blossomed rife
Do we dare to think of our surface, and what becomes of life
*~*
Like a sweetened girl in love, she looks up and admires the dark
One can only fear our tomorrows, our white dove joins his stark
Her body perky and peached, en-riched, she's now bowled over
Leg raised in content, in his dark there can be called clover
*~*
An aching hunger cries for more, in torrid lustful bites
His talons become their union, this darkened redded night
Taking, she invites him so, to suckle on her charms
Is this the virgin we knew, who once stood all alarmed
Manipulated she now is, her abundance he's now in grace
Shall she bow to her superior, in his darkly grimly place
*~*
Entwined they re-unite, as she absorbs his ogre charms
Invitingly she takes, her lips like a welcoming balm
He's tasted, taken in, in release he's in comfort gain
Her light engrossed with his dark, goes against the grain
*~*
silently blowing
in a bated breath
magically
i whisper
in the breeze
my dearest
bowled over
amazing beautiful
far away
in a starry sky
the heart
just missed
a beat
a feeling
within one's breath
did you
just kiss
my soul
coming out
in mist
with the sweetest
most beautiful words
a soul
of such beauty
shining at
the rainbows end
my god
never let
one see
those beautiful eyes
tipping one's hat
i smile to you
if ever i did
i would adore
the light
within the candle
you hypnotize
my dreams
melting in the deepest
embracing one;s soul
one with yours
beyond words
the soul flies
in the spirit
ocean waves
crashing onto
the cliffs
kissing you passionately
tonight i dream
its you
I'm very good at it
-- running that is:
Most my adult life
seems to have been
a treadmill of sorts:
Morning Gush. Got to love
those subway jousts! All us
elbow warriors fencing for
optimum position, wanting
fast entrance and propelled
retreat.
Elevating to the running-board of
city sidewalks and streets...step to the flow
or be bowled over, trampled upon. Tires, Florsheim, Nike, high heels~
They all mark deeply!
(Evening rush escape no less a trek)
Joggers make me laugh
heartily! Roadside exhibitionists,
inhaling deeply everyone’s
filth. I swear, that If there are
schedules and timetables in heaven,
God inadvertently has given
the Devil but another tempting card
to play.
The body-personal will be achieving little today.
Today is a too tight T-shirt.
Bloat and insomnia
have measured and found soft round toads
croaking in the swamp of being.
There are squawky
oral articulations in dry joints.
A fate has made its presence known
revealing pre-set mousetraps
strewn upon the path of well laid plans;
it warns obliquely of dentures mechanically
nibbling on stale cheese.
Knowing the hours will belch
and empty-out air that could have
breathed new life into words,
Perceiving that chattering mind-children
will cross the distracted mind
without a crossing guard,
be bowled over, squashed, spread
over neural highways,
their scant electric membranes
dissolving and denuded
leaving a sticky residue
over the body personal...
then that body
must retire and regroup
into a proto-cognizance,
a glow of phosphorescence
too primal to be snared,
yet able to predict
when it can get out of itself -
hopefully.
households lurch
creak unmoored
hulls rocking
the twang of whip lashed rigging
as electric wires stretch
pull up clods
yards of plantings
where once roots clutched
bricked-up aluminum
long jacked-up boards
swirl and bloat
bed-springs shiver off
unwinding sheets
the dumbfounded foaming
of absconding pillows
bedrooms fall out
of plunging submarines
chests and draws
shedding a put away sundry
then the roll and billow
baffle and muddle
the face-up exposure
of everyday innards
sweeps by
riding the backbones
of the up-turned
the bowled over
hard to fathom
that a river of storm clouds
could move all this
manifold clutter
the cheesy and cherished
dumping down clumps
into wet clay models
of any new address
AWE WITH YOU
I am amazed
Filled with astonishment
Surprised
Filled with amazement
And I'm in awe with you
Of all of the things you do
I am in awe with you, I am in awe with you
I'm astounded startled
Filled with wonder
Lost for words
Discomposed
None of this has to do with luck
Stunned thunderstruck
And I'm in awe with you
Of all of the things you do
I am in awe with you, I am in awe with you
Unable to believe one's eyes and ears
Wonder struck shaken up
Taken aback flabbergasted
Dazed filled with awe
I was bewildered bemused
Flummoxed floored knocked for six
Bowled over Lord God blown away
Mercy me I'm gobsmacked staggered
I'm in awe, in awe, in awe ahhhh...
Lord God, I am in awe with you
And I'm in awe with you
Of all of the things you do
I am in awe with you, I am in awe with you
3/21/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
Learning when/how to close seat then...
flush... the toilet with good frisson!
(alternately titled long windedly
using lower case letters:
no matter tidily bowled over based
upon real events, perhaps subject devoid
of literary merit and/or taste
no embarrassment, cuz
I got nothing to cover
despite precious time going to waste).
Analogous to constipation,
constitutes full term pregnancy,
perhaps umpteenth or first,
which former offal bodily function I durst
mention, said subject doth stink,
yet... exercising bowel
applicative, constrictive, effective,
exhaustive, gesticulative, instinctive,
massive, oppressive, qualitative,
quantitative, significative and unitive
(beg to differ if ye think me perverse)
both scenarios prone to stress and strain,
difficulties can arise evacuating bowels
gluteus maximus muscles severely pursed,
radiating sharp stabbing sensations
behind junk in trunk quarters felt
until bulging temple veins ready to burst,
where piles of hemorrhoids
foul rectum tortured and accursed
necessitating Judas Priest well versed
to issue last rites while
appropriate official dull livers worst
news to missus, whose
inconsolable sympathies nursed,
nevertheless bit torrent of sorrow
honor alone time with grateful dead
subsequently finds medical personnel disbursed,
privately newly minted widow mourning
tears for fears immersed
bemoaning sudden permanent absence
gone fore e'er foremost farter figure first
instance obliterated, when posterior
uproariously (actually not funny)
inflicted hemorrhage emergency,
die hard ludicrous poet (me) experienced
all expense chauffeured ride in hearst
aforementioned purportedly roughly comparable,
courtesy hearsay, when
hypothetical woman with child,
(here, I metaphorically paraphrase)
as maven ready to take aim giving birth
(nine months after satiating
hankering call of the wild
buzzfeeding miracle worker whipped thirst,
and temporarily appeased
inherent maternal yearning
to beget offspring, then... off to races
sprinting at greased lightning speed
amazingly enough slightly protruded womb,
(among other fledgling
and/or practiced moms avid runners
all touted as winners relay race crossing
finish line simultaneously
comprising distance measuring more'n verst.
Bowled over, kneading you, feeling sub-lime
from my head tomatoes. Hear my heart beet!
Eggcited, wonton you olive the thyme.
Donut you carrot all for me at yeast?
You’re one in a melon, sweet sugar pie,
forbidden fruit I find so appeeling.
Cherry on the cake, apple of my eye.
Has there bean love? Don’t berry the feeling.
It’s a big dill and takes two to mango.
I’d sacri-rice all because you compleat me.
You oat to love me. Peas, love miso!
Just food for thought. Chew that fat with your tea.
I have so mushroom in my heart for you.
A pizza your heart? Say yes, honey - DEW!
Dec. 28, 2017 for Viv Wigley's Food Fight Poetry Contest