Long Dislocated Poems

My jubilant latent, nascent poetic tribute to black history month

Which acknowledgement ought to be year round,
similar to altruistic, humanistic, and philanthropic
unconditional acceptance and respect
crafted with the following words 
mostly written January 23rd, 2023,
cuz I, (a...

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Nascent poetic tribute to black history month...
crafted before onset when people of color  
got acknowledged for twenty eight or nine days
depending if leap year occurred. 

Though I yam Caucasian,
rightful to honor most bitter
racist genocidal...

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My nascent poetic tribute to black history month

more apropos and alternately titled: 
praise to thee people 
of variegated melanin color,
whose immense understated improvements
and enhancement of webbed wide world
worth more than paltry words
of yours truly can...

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The man lay painfully wedged between two large boulders, 
his position an anomaly only the cruelest of fates could bring to a man. 
 In one moment he’d been sure-footed, gingerly climbing  the cliff....

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Dance, my little pretty, dance. As I pull the strings she rises off the floor. Gracefully I dance her across the stage. How pretty she looks dressed in black. Short high heel boots, black stockings,...

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The Evening Soup, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s La soupe du soir

						To J.-K. Huysmans

(Verlaine here paints a stark tableau of working-class or peasant life shorn of any symbolic or imaginary references. Even if I see no...

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Breathe easy to the heart that pumps out its rhythm!
Ease the easiest way that penetrates its veins!
Breathe easy to the brightest heartbeat that gives birth to life.
Bring back sensation from within to begin!
Brave back the...

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Fifty years of bustin’ ass, I never had a dime,
If I had any balls at all, I’d’ve chose a life of crime;

I never owned a brand new truck, a flat TV or yacht,
I figured I...

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Part Five

Some couplets apart
         much remains redundant
    even obvious
inapt by way of pointing to fresher vistas
  and those that follow the rarity of...

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Beyond grateful for the one’s I have
                            ...

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"And he (Jesus) said to them.  Be not afraid.  You seek Jesus
who was crucified: he is risen; he is not here: behold the place
where they laid him."   ...

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In the back of my head, in the garden shed,
I see him as clearly as fresh white paint:
A little boy sat on the creosote floor, 
Dragged grazed knees hugged up to his chin, 
So familiar,...

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Finally after twenty two plus
years of marriage,
a husband (namely yours truly -
hitherto known as Matthew Scott Harris)
exhibits glint of care and concern
toward his significant other,
which wife bemoaned
absent expressions of love
particularly before the
honeymoon even occurred.

I readily...

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Delusion and Reference 
(Paranoia) 

Once there was only one, not fun, 
So then this became two, did moo,  
But my mum thought there were two, 
There was her, and then guess who, 
God said...

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 We Danced  written by Poet John Heck

I penned a couplet for you today.
Rather, a quill manipulated
my hand and scrawled mendacity.
The misanthrope's who read the ode
applauded with flippers on.

Such insight. Such depth.

Mussolini meets Monet...

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ARE YOU REALLY A HUMAN?? 
? SHREYASH MUKHERJEE 
 
I don’t know why they didn’t allow me to breathe (George Floyd), 
I don’t know why they harassed me & no one was to defeat (Joseph),
I...

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The idea behind this poem came from reading a poem of the same title, written by Richard “Canadian Man-god” Lamoureux. Now, his poem went in an entirely powerful, yet other, direction than I thought it...

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1. They said the meeting point
between your traits and swagger
has dislocated 
and your newly acquired awful image
is beyond reversal.
But hey! I do not fall for obscurantism
on your honor, my senses are on sentry duty
even when...

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though I yam Caucasian,
   tis rightful to honor that most bitter
racist genocidal crime
   nonetheless ovation qua

   quintessential significant contribution
   vis a vis that doth litter
  ...

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You have led my course through fractured lanes.
Your groaning ballad my only light.
Kill blessings from stained lips safely float our steps.
Where would I be without you Michael?

Crow mother lies broken at our hand.
Eyes, lips and...

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He thought I had cancer
He had been told
By a higher source
Then doctors you know.
Kill the cancer 
They told him
Help her to heal
Kill the cancer 
They commanded
Beat her body clean

The mind so absence
In his mental way
His...

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...Continued from Part 1...

Poor little Evelyn, her poor physical conditions at birth puzzled local doctors,
It was a mystery she was born with a dislocated hip and a deformed right foot.

And evidence of bone damage whilst...

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He taught us to work hard and be counted
We may have been delinquent yet patience he mounted

He was strict with us and with himself as well
We were bit scared but it made discipline in us...

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It was a good spot.
A spot near the bus stop.
A spot where on many days the air was filled with aroma
of fruits and vegetables from tables set up in front of markets.
A spot where a...

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As a youngster, I looked like a boy…there was nothing girly to be seen
I could run topless without comment until the age of about fifteen.
I could climb the highest tree, jump the highest fence
I even...

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