Long Fatalistic Poems
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Starting from Scratch with Ol’ Scratch
by Michael R. Burch
Love, with a small, fatalistic sigh
went to the ovens. Please don’t bother to cry.
You could have saved her, but you were all tied up
complaining about the Jews to Reichmeister Grupp.
Scratch that. You were born after World War II.
You had something more important to do:
while the children of the Nakba were perishing in Gaza
with the complicity of your government, you had a noble cause (a
religious tract against homosexual marriage
and various things gods and evangelists disparage.)
Jesus will grok you? Ah, yes, I’m quite sure
that your intentions were good and ineluctably pure.
After all, what the hell does he care about Palestinians?
Certainly, Christians were right about serfs, slaves and Indians.
Scratch that. You’re one of the Devil’s minions.
(a quid pro quo plug for zaftig women)
women that tip weigh ling needle to spin vicious circle
akin to puppy chasing her/his tail
or require digital scale,
at the extreme alt right registering heavy
ba Jill 'en Jack knifed pail loads
whether young or old ought to be appreciated
not waifer thin self starved as a rail,
instead they suffer unfair injustice
like a trapped quivering quail
thus this fatalistic, generic,
and holistic landlubber
wanted to point head lee
hammer home one secure
heterosexual bondage stronger than
omnipotent Marcy's Playground
weather beaten pail
Trent Reznor's sixty 9 inch rust free steel nail
into the coffin of bias
against bevy of beautiful babes
within the mind of this male,
who inherited genetic predisposition
for being average, hearty and hale
yet feel compassion for those engaged
in an ongoing with battle of the bulge,
hmm... perhaps hiding ample bosom
akin to milky sopping wet grail
or accepted unequivocally themselves
without envy of lithesome women,
who seem to possess flair with nary a flail
yet possess much love to avail,
and tis wise to love oneself unconditionally
despite premium aesthetics considered svelte
which mass media accentuates de facto spelt
definition of femininity aka runway models
donned in faux animal pelt
whose deliberate self exhibition
prompts madding crowd of man
to waggle tongue with slack jaws
as if ready to melt
or at instantaneous signal telepathically felt
drop drawers upon removing blackbelt.
The quintessential of nyctophilia, wrapped in bridal attire, slowly and slowly as in somnambulism there goes the heroine of timeless tragedy to supersede her lovers feigned insanity.
Her beloved father is no more, being killed by her suitor's intrigued tyranny;
ignored to be drowned, to burn in the flame of plotted felony.
Jilted, to be startled by the selcouth performance of her handsome wooer's vile strategy;
there goes the most beautiful heroine ever to be the victim of fated irony,
immersed in senseless lunacy, to vanish from the sight of Hamlet's fatalistic eyes to bid adieu to the agony,
slowly and slowly to be disappeared into melancholic darkness from the dazzling maniac opaque sight;
there goes the Danish heroine of evergreen tragedy.
“My soul is a black maelstrom…” ~ Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet.
Molten lava spews from my eyes
My mouth feels dry as the scorching desert sand
Fear like a heavy boulder sits on my chest
My heart is chasing a Chimera
A pit is forming in my stomach,
My head is riding upon a vortex
Conflicting thoughts swirling through my mind
forming a surrealistic whirlpool,
Grim and gloomy feelings shroud my being
permeating a fatalistic suspicion of society at large
dragging me down the road to depression.
A sense of emptiness is mushrooming within me,
like the morning miasma blurring the view,
All hands of hope have been withdrawn
Every moment henceforth
is pregnant with some novel challenges,
Tackling a new task overwhelms me
and despair prevails over my soul undeterred —
Bogged down by fate,
Tethered to my faith,
and mired in a spiritual quagmire
I am unable to claw my way back up
to Mount Calvary.
~Prompt 2: "As I slip into the void of this endless black."
~Contest: Venom and Stardust: A Birthday Prompt
~sponsor: Sara Jama.
Jabbering Ignominious Hypocrite Gabbles - against the backdrop of gross unbridled viscous wracking zealotry bruiting extinguishing inherent national trust...
Poetic Introduction:
I wax and wane rhapsodic
plus prosaically politic
aware severe erosion
of American democracy
over run by narcissistic
over stuffed ego-freezer,
whose vocabulary
extremely laconic
foe swash buckling braggadocio
commander in chief
not gun shy
to brandish (hugely
bully like) jingoistic
tirade unleashing horrific
banshees more'n 10, 000
foo fighting maniacs
(nemesis of liberty) fatalistic
to sanctity of
United States democracy
throw back at him bigly,
his woeful treachery,
quasi xenophobic, tragic,
and lunatic bred anarchy!
Each ticking second of every single day, the pensive, doughy face execrably debased “dunderhead” criminal commander in chief (trumpeting acrimonious, calumnious, egregious...yakking), while donned in gay apparel) trumpeting lunatic, jingoistic, ideology imbues heretic catalysts.
Thou art unduly seething, quaking, and oozing mercurial kindling ideological glommed ethos of mine. These atrocious blaspheming, castigating, denigrating, excoriating, fulminating gross humiliations imply jerkiness, kookiness, lunacy.
No! Not for one more term can this acidulous, indecorous Mandates need outspoken politicians quickly removing this utterly vile wicked Xerses.
Thus spoke Zarathustra (without blandishment) to me, a gluten and monosodiumglutinate free, NON-GMO non-alarmist, nonestablishmentarian, nor ham aye a nihilist.
...en l'an soixante-dix de mon age...
All the familiar names from our youth
now belong to aged, unfamiliar faces.
Even my own reflection startles
as I pass the mirror
hanging in the hall.
Suddenly, we are old.
And, although taken by surprise,
we must accommodate reality --
perhaps convince ourselves
how lucky we survivors are --
how much better that we wear
these flaccid faces, these worn-out bodies,
these aids and apparatuses,
than to have ended
while in almost-mint condition.
But these are mere macabre,
septuagenarian musings.
So, let's forget all that!
Turn up the music
and hear us murmur,
in weakly mordant, fatalistic,
untriumphant chorus:
"We're still here!"
Flim flam artists con like hackers
From the digital underworld
Scammers. Modern Thieves
Taking advantage of not just
Little ol’ ladies, but Me!
And the vulnerable gullible glue
That holds our species together
Shame on you! I cast you, you know who you are
who entertain time with waste
With the spoils of others
Internet Idiocracy is not a democracy
You, gangsters of greed
With the shameless need
To make others bleed
For your sins
I'm a $1,000 in the hole, you poor soul
I cast you
Into a special spot, the Deepest Hole
In Hell
That only one spell can break
You free
Give up your riches
Give up your chaotic chores
Give in to Jesus
He is the only Door
For any redemption
You fools!
Not tHe ENd
Am I whacked out, or what?
To actually believe
And actually, have high hopes
That someday human beings
Will just FOCUS their attention
And unite under one Earth flag
To hold up high with human half-baked intentions
Even with a modicum of enlightenment
Accomplish the Unimaginable end
Peace it all together and
Free the human spirit not by the Bomb
But by giving, each person their voice
Acknowledge the uniqueness that spawns genius
Education is everything. Never stop learning ...
Be allowed to express, even darklike King’s
Freed to believe, to hope, even grope or cling
For a better future for our grandchildren
Will it be a legacy of Liberty, or loss?
Am I a whacked out global goliath?
Or what!?
Child of God
Damn right I stand up
With my brothers and sisters
Against oppression, tyranny
And fatalistic foes
Hand in hand, with the sWORD of Christ
His piece ploys me to reveal
Something whacky
So, come join me at the outer edges of the Greens
Where dandelions and roses grow
Side by side, row by row
Stitching the seams of the Universe together
Come gets some whacky Taffy while it lasts
Off to the whacked-out Lands for Peace
Keep on sippin’ some poetrysoup
Where my whacky wisdom
Is the latest scoop
If not mine, then yours, you nincompoop
Let's get whacky in a Whackyland!
Let’s gets soupy in a poetrysoup land!
Let’s be friendly in a Friendland!
So, Keep on Sharing!
even if it’s a little whacky ...
Now I am quite realistic
Never ever fatalistic
Fantasy never tickled my fancy
So you can understand my surprise
From their daunting size
On the streets of New York
My air left me as if released by a cork
For before me shaped like giant potatoes
Were ten gigantic too big toes
Human in everything but weight
Any want for fainting this can sate
Did I faint? I’m not sure
A want to run this did procure
But connected to these toes
I found their much mightier foes
I beheld feet
Which smell is no treat
I suddenly felt the urge to run
For what was in front of me could block out the sun
Upon the feet were legs
On those legs a fat belly
The deodorant was very cheap and smelly
In awe I looked up more
They wore a jersey with the number four
Their arms could hold sky scrapers each
Humility to all the muscles could teach
And on their head they had a fashioned mullet
The hair spray could stop a bullet
They had fingers that could carve a valley
Which would never fit in any New York alley
The giant chuckled and skipped
And a bow they dipped
To a giant almost completely alike
Who was inspecting a shop window’s intricate bike
The new comer was female
But description is mostly the same tale
She was well dressed
And a laugh she did suppress
As the male stumbled after his bow
Then he joined arm to arm to her allow
And walked on
On to where there was no concrete to trod upon
Vane glorious and absolutistic,
though I defiantly,
cavalierly, and blithely attest
Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy
mine acidic breast
houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic,
barbaric, and bubonic
cannibalistic demons within thy
safely guarded Pandora chest
atomic cesium clock
timed to trigger avast
burst of anxiety, frenzy, and
(What me worry
Alfred E. Neuman) blast
ting mental quietude at most
inappropriate, inconvenient,
inopportune, out classed
adrenaline rush, nausea,
palpitating heart, vertigo
besieging, corrupting,
endeavoring fractured arrant
cleft daemonic gripping
hellishly psychic chant
rendering unto sieze hoar,
a choking vise grip extant
yule hiss sieze indomitable
banshee fully controlling grant
diabolic, dogmatic, and dynamic,
anguished corporeal ache
easily, egregiously, and emblematically,
exemplified historically
graphic fatalistic, and ecstatic coup,
(koo), when I caused furious frantic flight,
and/or fight betake
king angst causing just desserts
for Marie Antoinette,
who got her humble pie cake,
thence dispensing with formalities,
where a joshing drake
(named Gill O. Teen)
also known (solely known
to mine selfish source error ways)
alias i.e. as; the Lewis (loose)
lunatic, heady harvester,
and decapitation Deacon trumpeting,
trouncing, and triumphing tranquility
for fifty three Tuesdays,
thence sea king punishing psychotic
pre pound payment
basking in glory (re: gory us)
amidship crashing quays
music to mine ears hearing plaintive neighs
high pitched straining
vocal chord hamstrung keys
regaling oceanographic
lambent hagiographic essays
and keeping at bathos bays.
Offenbach to boyhood, I pined nostalgic
Tale of (H)offman woe (mine)
linkedin, speedier than quick
brown fox jumps over the lazy dog,
fast as fired ballistic
soon after conception, when
yours truly a mere embryonic
nudnik, nonetheless I venture
to advance hypothesis fantastic,
and farfetched as said theoretic
conjecture deoxyribonucleic genetic
housed within chromosomal material generic
human being eventually
coalescing into holistic
corporeal and spiritual essence intrinsic
being christened Matthew Scott Harris,
wherein unbeknownst manifest destiny poetic
primate took shape pronouncing
his bent quixotic
also riddled with predilection toward panic
attacks, generalized anxiety frenetic
disposition and moost definite laconic
demeanor most evident,
when he cast characteristic
contemplative, intuitive,
not necessarily universalistic
as unfavorable inherited, plus behavioral trait
generally articulate, delicate, intricate... pacific
progeny afflicted with psychological honorific
schizoid personality disorder deeply affecting
mental, physical and spiritual bailiwick
rendering him beset with idiosyncratic
faulty cognitive mental health issues
super tramping, thriving,
albeit teetotaling opportunistic
mailer daemons upending
with horrific, capitalistic, and academic
failures, (I will spare thee graphic)
details only offering synopsis
such as anorexia nervosa,
generalized anxiety, obsessive
compulsive disorder fatalistic
outlook encompassing pathetic
purposeless quirky ritualistic
counterproductive mindset atavistic
beastie boy propensity, who must exit
regarding call of the wild this urbane rustic.