Long Brainchild Poems
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Mein kampf synonymous as a blooper
Writer of these words,
a former Lower Providence inhabitant,
who dwelled within darkest depths
of Dante Alighieri's inferno
for most of his outlandish, impish,
and devilish growing up years
witnessed microscopic scrimmage,
where spermatozoan with most forcefulness
muscled itself handedly,
magnificently, and splendidly
envision unicellular olympic competition,
yours truly swimmingly
begot during the heat
of parents being passionately fruitful
courtesy diploid erogenous frisson
between my then searingly
robust virile father and fecund mother
~ late March/early April 1958
ushered seminal moment
post ova fertilization realization
courtesy male gamete
penetrating zona pellucida
a glycoprotein layer surrounding the oocyte
triggering cell bait multiplication
subsequently yielding male
gendered offspring and sole son
hashtagged as uber twittering, snapchatting,
shutterflying super duper
cute little boy with short strawberry blond hair,
whose solitudinarian nature
became quite evident when he displayed
acute social withdrawal
upon off fish shill commencement
getting schooled as a grouper
by mister Hooper,
who made his debut
appearance on Sesame Street
November 10, 1969
as storied and staple long time resident
on above named television show
until March 18, 1983,
beloved by adults and children alike
within make believe community
(a conglomerate of real and imaginary locales)
peopled with proprietary named characters
for any of a number of humorously grotesque
glove or rod puppets and marionettes,
chiefly representing animals,
first popularized, idolized,
dramatized, capitalized, and actualized
by the children's television programme
Sesame Street (1969-) and more recently
in The Muppet Show (1976-80).
Also: a toy made to resemble one of these
ingenious brainchild of Jim Maury Henson
an American puppeteer, animator, actor,
and filmmaker who achieved worldwide
notability as the creator of the Muppets
which series originated as two pilot episodes
produced by Henson for ABC in 1974 and 1975.
Henson's shocking, sudden death occurred on May 16, 1990 of organ failure resulting from streptococcal toxic shock syndrome. An emotional memorial service was held five days later at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City.
Where on Earth or far beyond do we poets go, you ask.
My thoughts willingly stretch my imagination with this task.
I would reply...in any direction our ink chooses to flow.
To the light of dawn or to dark telltale shadows of Poe
There are no boundaries that could rein in a poet's mind,
even if we have the mournful misfortune of going blind.
A poet is not harnessed by sight like a horse to a carriage.
From memory our vision serves us in a sort of marriage,
a bond without rings and vows that gives us wings to fly
among stars, or to realms a common man cannot descry.
To know sin's sorrow, we would walk through a fiery hell
if it would give us the insight that living could not quell.
Inspiration is our weapon, feathered arrows we shoot,
aiming for the rhyming words and chasing in hot pursuit.
Though our muse flees, and crumbled pages lie at our feet,
our mind struggles in unrest but will not concede defeat.
On ventured missions, traveling where our hearts will lead.
Among distant galaxies, where we collect poetic seed
to plant in fertile delta land or in sandy deserts on Earth,
cultivating cogent lines, to which our scribing gives birth.
Fathering or mothering verses from infancy to fruition.
Editing until at last, our brainchild is worthy of submission.
We see far beyond mundane realities of life and reason.
Writing from the heart, rebuking the penalty of treason.
We wind through mazes of each personal poetic anecdote.
Exposed is our nakedness in each lyrical line we ever wrote.
June 20, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney.
A plethora of attention
focused on twentieth anniversary
regarding terrorist attacks
upon American soil nine eleven
two thousand and one,
thus Schwenksville poet
opted for his best métier write.
While riding atop a yak
both feet went wickety wack
trudging beast of burden a throwback
to the brainchild
of John Mauchly and J. Presper Eckert
devised Electronic Numerical
Integrator and Computer
otherwise dubbed ENIAC
cumbersome invention
programing machine no easy knack
also impossible mission or fit in pocket
book versus handy to tote
laptop perfect fit inside day pack.
As an aging long haired
pencil neck geek baby boomer
who reckons himself
as schleppy (snoop doggy dog) self groomer
cannot escape scornful passersby
sneering, snickering and snorting
at me, an utter embarrassment to humanity,
who also sports sophomoric humor.
Unfair for yours truly
to saddle anonymous readers
which travails of mine
analogous overburdening
an old decrepit ass,
hence lumpenproletariat
marxist (brother) fellow,
whose insensitivity
could be interpreted as crass
subsequently aiming figurative sights
upon fresh fields,
where leaves of grass
harvested by me one
Norwegian bachelor farmer wannabe
ofttimes dashes off to Lake Woebegone
to escape madding crowds who harass
him, cuz he accentuates whole foods
with plenty of fiber to avoid
experiencing lower gastrointestinal impasse
acquiring moniker windbag
courtesy humongous formed rectal mass
necessitating the expertise of Nass
(another name for Nishga -
a member of a branch
of Tsimshian people
of British Columbia inhabiting Nass
River basin and/or dialect of Tsimshian
spoken by Nishga)
homeopathic remedies outclass
those of 21st century medicine,
said indigenous people
interpret objection toward their
age old medicinal practice as sass
even consider disagreement violation,
a figurative criminal mind to trespass
and the subject in question
a veritable, (albeit harmless) wiseass.
it took more than myself to save me
i was a narcissist without an independent confidence
with the wrong type of thinking in my brain, i chose to take the plunge
all i got in the end was the honest answer to my imagination's figments
it took more than myself to save me
i was a brainchild genius without a blueprint's thorough thought
with the wrong mode of strategy written lack legibility, i chose to jump right in
all i got in the end was a sweat stained pillowcase and icy drool by sunrise
it took more than myself to save me
i was grown man without a clue as to how to properly display my presentation
with the wrong method of approach, i chose to pursue and go for it
all i got in the end was a broken heart and my own lonely space to stare in
it took more than myself to save me
i was a lost soul without any type of concept of an adequate plan
with nothing left in my arsenal but an overwhelming collection of prayers, i decided to just fall to my knees, let go, and let God
what i got in the end was the naked truth and a slap in the face as a wake up call
***** NONPARTISAN SHAM (BULL SH*T) SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN *****
Innocuous, yet unhealthy threat looms across
(air/radio) telecommunications devices
linkedin with plenti networks that criss cross
even primitive computers utilizing DOS
by George, which archaic code
once powered Mill on the Floss,
now long since covered over
with flora I lichen and recognize as moss.
Surgeon general (Jerome Michael Adams
20th Surgeon General of the United States)
strongly advises against, yet he does not boast
threat looms large coast to coast
watching more than five minutes at most
equivalent machination, the following I post
re: guarding haunting experience
analogous visit by fashionably late ghost
2020 presidential election coverage
able, eager, and ready to prey upon host
whereby curious George experiences
feeling noggin fried like toast.
A carefully worded (fake) communiqué
purportedly the brainchild of one freak
Matthew Scott Harris,
whose jargon puzzling as deciphering Greek
long story short while in utero,
he experienced cerebral leak,
said cheesy mousy man no longer meek
quite evident courtesy literary pique
his haughty style aiming to characterize
generic guy as self anointed Sheikh
sought after acceptance tepid and week.
Nevertheless he speaks/writes truth to power
aforementioned serious risk steeped within
social media platform sensory overload I ascribe,
whereby subliminal messages
voter's blitzkrieg does bribe,
albeit unconsciously, hence me subsequent rhyme
equals forewarning in league with mild diatribe
which receptive yours truly can transcribe.
All joking aside
oversaturation soaking up
presidential election aye chide
against viewing in excess (five minutes at most)
affixed to live streaming broadcast
can find thee steadfast staring getting bug eyed
thus hoop fully let moderation serve as guide
cuz the eventual outcome re: guarding
president elect political experts cannot hide
though be wary lest premature ejaculation trumpets
sore loser candidate, that
bombastic egotistical ignoramus lied
cuz prejudice nsync with pompous pride
for four years to many
the webbed wide world let him slide,
now as one common Joe,
a hardened criminal he best be tried.
Coruscating gravitas
imbibed algebraic
cerebral tranches
to spark
alacrity defiant
material manducation
deployed tangibly
phlegmatic
whilst
begetting manifest
miraculous meteoric
innovative impulses
when
penetrating bailiwicks
of tongue-contortion
cerebrum
eidetic retention
straddling juncture’s
poised gateway
as
baton weaving
catalyst triumphant
for
pumped ensemble
virtuoso visionaries
who
taproot trajectories
cocoon emerging
brainchild unfettered
obsessing
magazine mandarins
artistic
archetypal Monet
lavish lavender
lily pond
with
balsamic brushstrokes
galvanising
similar maven
budding Einsteins
blazing trails
of
original contrivance
boosting beneficial
health domain
of
wellspring weal
integrating impactful
slants
gearshift gargantuan
narcissistic nadir
repetitive
regurgitations rampant
abjured by
polymath prodigious
whose
appalachian peak
of antecedents
an avalanche
tintinnabulation
enunciated showpiece
heralds harvesting
gilt-edged prodigy
in fields
belletrist
nimble-fingered
experiential
All my life, a singular scheme,
I've chased the wind, a lofty dream.
But how to describe the spirit's gleam,
without them saying I'm so naive?
Things the senses cannot perceive,
are the hardest to believe.
So how to explain the foresight,
in hours of quiet, sacred light?
When transported to that divine height,
to witness a revelation like a joyride.
How to describe what's felt inside,
where words alone cannot confide?
They say it's a mental disease,
"a fool's Paradise" you live with ease.
For years, alone, I've sought release,
pushing through the lofty route.
Talking to visions, calling out,
birthing something, despite doubt.
I conceived a brainchild from the air,
a novelty of which few are aware.
A lofty dream, a vision to share,
a creation that blew the mind.
From nothing, I made a new kind,
a masterpiece for all to find.
Prior to intent, in the unmanifest,
where creative will of God reverberates,
in us as the Monad, in peace and at rest,
the seed of desire in our heart then gyrates,
bringing about creation at God’s behest,
enacting its role till the desire abates,
whence heart quiescent it returns to the source,
in time dissolved stillness without use of force.
Ego indulgence is a brainchild of mind,
which labours within the matrix of space-time,
so to be free, head and heart must be aligned,
whence all that is then left, is God’s bliss beat chime,
melding with which, ego cravings are declined,
that all nodes tango dancing, conjure a rhyme,
enabling us then to reclaim Monad’s light,
which mirrors God’s heartbeat, throbbing with delight.
Your call is important to us
Says this smarmy bland voice
So please stay on the Line
As if we have any choice
They don’t have many staff now
Just a multi purpose call centre
The logical result of the work
Of that thrice cursed inventor
Whose greatest brainchild was
The automated answer machine
One of the greatest time wasters
This world has sadly ever seen.
How many die of apoplexy
Not having the resolve
To keep on waiting for
Their query to be solved.
I hope that inventor met
An excruciating painful death
Lingering hour after hour
Before taking his last breath
All the time hearing
Over and over again
Your death is important to us
We just don’t know when
Dancing and singing along with the rest
With the sun beaming down
It’s Glasto at its very best
****
The teatime slot my favourite spot
Iconic performances from idols past
Still going strong as they sing all night long
Never dreaming their fame it would last
****
Sir Tom at 80 still wowing the crowds
his voice so strong
may he go on and on
****
Resplendent in pink
Dame Shirl gives a twirl
that young lass from Wales
with her voice she regales
****
Dear Dolly lifts the crowd
still begging Jolene
****
Whilst Kenny is lamenting Lucille
****
And sweet Caroline
Well she's a favourite of mine
Still shines like a Diamond
Sweet Neil
****
Barry alone now
still reaching those highs
seeing their smiles as he looks to the skies
****
And Lionel still able to go
All Night Long
strutting the stage
like a man half his age
****
Sweet Kylie
petite
A perfect package
complete
****
Nile Rodgers and Chic
sing along to Le Freak
Nile is such a cool bloke
his look so unique
****
Then finally the master
As darkness descends
On that stage he appears
and for many brings tears
For just like Major Tom
his soul has moved on
but his genius survives
in every word
of every song
****
Not even Covid 19
Could ever stop this show
As I behold the very best
of 2020 Glastonbury Fest...
Written at 3.00 am this morning on 30th June 2020
after watching and dancing and singing to Glastonbury 2020 those images still rocking in my head…
*Glastonbury is considered to be one of the biggest and finest music festivals in the world today. 2020 would have been 50 years since its humble beginnings in 1970. The brainchild of Michael Eavis a farmer from Somerset England, who decided to host an al fresco concert himself after see Led Zeppelin at an open air festival. First artists to appear were Marc Bolan and Al Stewart
1970 ~ Attendance 1,500 ~ tickets price £1 with free milk from the Farm
2019 ~ ticket price £248 ~ capacity 203,000 ~ 135.000 tickets sold in under 36 minutes…
Contest STRAND completely new 3
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION