Long Grungy Poems
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"The York Shire Commons"
Magazine
Presents..........
The Smitten Kitten
and
The Kitty Cat Garbage
GLAM Show
Live at the Beacon Bender Arena
also starring.................
Getty Fantastic and the Menez
Of Troubled Wattaz
Band
Sponsered by Notable Monday Dining Club
and WGAL f.m.
( "F"ing all songs)
Grungy Negging w? crossover Appeal
WGAL "F"ing day and night !
I kept vigil a hundred hours
I slept a hundred hours
Only to rise under bowers
Streaming with hot showers
Now my eyes mist for things I have seen
Including things forbidden by sin —
Like wind-harried shutters facing and backing brothels
On whose grungy grounds they have conducted betrothals.
I summoned the laity for prayers
But heard they had since stolen in for a hushed seminar
I then crooked my fist and invited pipe players,
Who, in the calamity of staccato tunes, heard something similar.
Moments from now the moon will wane
And the eyes of man shall catch only the dregs of stolen wine
When particles of moon dust rebel and feign
The madness of deposed kings, their tears filled with brine.
I’m broken because nothing is working
The mourning city grieves with singing
While running darkness is spitting and lurking,
Spewing debris of mockery with slinging
Our sins have caught us red-handed
Frost warming alerts an otherwise docile city
When winter hoes up the lewd corners of the land branded
By debauchery and annoying pity.
I have since insured my heart wreck with the heavens
And prayed to be washed clean in the waters of Meribah
After, by the heart’s ease, I had eaten of the flailing crumbs of the leavens
To rid my wretched soul of the harlotic prints of Salivah.
A former slender man (lapsed Unitarian anorexic)...
deplores adipose tissue gain
No Holiday music can soothe savage beast
washboard abdomen weight watcher's dream fleeced
skinny bag of lovely bones permanently leased
body snatcher somewhere amidst policed
madding crowd of carolers singing,
where mine sinking spirits ceased
rising today December 18th, 2020
analogous how unleavened bread
(i.e. matzo) lacks yeast.
I loathe shucking clothes,
(no matter eyes severely myopic)
in preparation for here goes
another warm shower quickly
relaxing this senescent
body ready to doze
soon after lathering
this blubbery body
most unwanted fat grows
on me, no matter healthy diet
of worms, or how I stand,
not so easy (Etsy) as add a pose
zing losing battle – Mary Jo's
if and geeze us of bulge ill flattering
particularly quiverly, sans white
"WALL" tire tread fully goes
steely belted around lower
abdominal area like lava floes
siring unsightly expose
yore squishy Jew dish priestly
punchy, plasma paunchy, gristly...
pillow like marshmallows
fittingly, rotundly soundly
identical with other schlep
tin (tin tabulation) grungy hobos,
this lap pissed lard (lord) Who Lee
bemoaning, how ilk readily knows,
where unwanted bulky flab...
most detested - hence Corp Yule Lance
leaves noth thin to noblesse oblige,
know bull eats obese,
anorexia nervosa or chance
barking out orders reminiscent, when he
hapt tubby a caller wannabe at
weekly square and/or contra dance,
now requisitioned to insulate
and excessively enhance
body electric can be mushed
into likeness of fleshy France
or repurposed into expanse
resembling any country,
whose name Kants
be easily pronounced, and historical
events glommed together recognizable
as Ataturk with a lance
bequeathed to rule World advance
sing gluttony as his divine providence,
thus requires deep dish allegiance
(non - fiber - binding contract)
for eats and make decadent
every fleshpot gourmand
stretching consumer cellular
skein to capacitance
bestowing guaranteed deliverance
with their rolling
ballooning massive circumference
into orbit with Earthly moon officiant
eternal fondue irrelevance!
The I trois1:01 men-nuts long
The first time they s collaborate
Bunch used both electric and
traditional instruments in a fusion
Of we. The origin of togetherness.
Lying to one group to increase the
Interest of another. Making specticails
Of fools, while patting the back and ass
Of the other. When the neglected bunch
Sought redemption, they called to familiar things, familiar situations they joined together. Without guidance men struggle. With those who have been neglected in aeomans compatibility they used stories of more attractive people
Beyond the muck and dirt, who speaks kinder? When she needs me, what until then. Yes says enough. Tomorrows lover, yesterday's man. RowOne Seat One!, The Lute, The Oboe,and the Chello
. Woman Drawers, her panties! The Next Morning
Sumthangs Specail. Grungy Groove. Ah Ooh: ah ooh!
These were the titled for bassy stringed marinaded meatez. The right thang at the right time. Music for lovers!
Seventies fur vests wet in the rain
Stinky but still in style so we wore them
Until they shredded and fell off our dirty shirts.
Cotton shirts no longer crisp but with wide ruffles at their wrist marks.
Soft dirty wrinkly blue jeans that smelled a bit gamey.
No one noticed that they never made it to the laundry pile.
Being rank was part of our revolution, a clothing protest
To the Viet Nam War where our poorest were being sacrificed daily.
We scrunched together in Volkswagen busses,
Traveling to Washington, where we could hold our signs.
And protest our truth, where wet fur vests were parading about
Along with grungy headbands and dreadlocks on white teenagers.
Leaving the silk and satin of the sixties back in the small towns
Where their youth thought they had to have a wedding to have sex.
We knew better. We did not care about crisp smooth wrapping paper
Or prancing ribbons on packages. We were uncomfortable and glad.
She peeked through the keyhole espying a messy cool lair
she ate up the tiniest bowl she could find
disheveled, disarrayed, disordered were they with wild hair
She chose a tiny seat and turned a bears world upside down
smash went the wood, and he howled
grungy, grimy and grubby were they and sadly they frowned
She cleaned up there mess though she caused them distress
come the night, the little wee bed fit just right
muddled, mussed and mussy were they but also such bless
She learned how to live in a world full of bears in plain sight
though she called them all "dears, "
it was the baby bear she called, beautiful, beloved and bright
AnthroCentrism
grows from globally rabid nihilism.
As cynicism
grows from anthropocentric roots
As narcissism
grows from cynical Lose/Lose
trampling our Win/Win EarthTribe opportunities
in over-marching,
uneconomically smart
unecologically naive
anti-ego/ecosystemic,
stomping bully boots.
What the USSR Military-Terrorist Party
learned the hard way,
their Russian mafia metamorphosis
has learned a simpler
continuing kleptocratic way:
When plundering and raping your own people
and Earth's international climate of active nutritional hope,
it is easier
and less transparent
to not have the unfortunate responsibilities
of actual
factual RealTalk
and RealWalk governing service provision
Like developing robust health and climate care systems
and building safe railroads and bike paths
and viable water and sewer systems
and healthy soil
and potable water supplies
and breathable air
and not quite so yang-fired up
win/lose competitive capital hoarding
among just-us AnthroCentric plutocrats.
Would that Apprentice Donald
had stayed private mafia likewise
rather than fiddling and twittering
extracting and walling
making America grungy again.
Yours truly dug deep with bony strength
in tandem with fantasy notions know
king around in figurative heady
toboggan noggin like cranial carapace
to muster every ounce of strength
in an effort to escape chronic confrontation
with endless streak of bleakness.
Although cursed with brutish,
nasty, and short nefarious fate
as a measly looking human
varmint, this grimy,
grungy, mangy, rangy, et cetera
looking besotted being
clung with all the might
within his five foot ten inch
or so tall and one hundred
and sixty five pound body
to transcend sigh grimly
twerking terrestrial travesty
that tweeted n tweaked laugh-in
fickle finger of fate in my favor.
I tapped into atavistic survival skills
summoned willpower to stay alive
drinking butter bear while heavy cross
of dirty poor poverty borne.
No matter a hard-core skeptic at heart,
this cynic plaintively called
for divine intervention
to help one nondescript human piece
of flotsam and jetsam
to cope - living like
doleful junkyard dog.
In essence, this abandoned, ignored
and shunned vagrant frequently
raged against the Deus ex machine
found figurative amidst
literal lovely bones
slim pick hens with demons
that tormented psyche.
While traipsing along litter strewn
condemned boulevard of broken dreams,
torn and well-worn shoe kicked
a couple of long discarded items.
These weather beaten hands
reflexively bent to retrieve accouterments.
One comprised colorful jagged shard,
in a previous lifetime
housed cheap fermented liquor.
Nothing but crud
filled remnant of dog gone
booze hounds’ favorite drink.
An unreflective Bodhisattva
nods to the unwashed dishes.
Once again I seek my morning
liberation by ways of a dark libation
Next a phlegmy mantra
gummed through spongy lips.
“I sleep, I wake. I sleep, I wake”
The mug is perfunctorily rinsed,
the stains of past desires
ring the rim like hungry ghosts.
I am aware of not being aware.
Ipso facto: I am aware,
but only in the cracks
between random thoughts.
Sweetness comes in pink packets.
The sacraments are torn open
two at a time with habitual practice.
A Zen-like work,
by rote and thought-free.
The percolator bubbles a last breath.
Like the Tathagata, I am truly gone.
An arm pours black oozing bliss
Into my mug.
A beatific smile
escapes from grungy features.
Tandem Toys Come Alive at Light
~~a fairy tale about Bobby Brown Hair, sleepy head
Tattered plaited grandmas made bed spread
Temptress grungy even made bear teddy out of black button eyes white plush cotton nose
Insides filled with cotton fold;
Settling on the bed next to sleepy head
Surrounded by antiques,
Blacky the cat, Lamby Poo
Carousel bunnies everywhere
Little gray mouse
Beating the drum
----------------------------------------------Tandem toys come a live at light
Tom tum tum
Wooden soldiers
Stand and march, marching on
----------------------------------------------Tandem toys come a live at light
How real is this
How real it is
Animals all around
When they talk and walk
As dark ghastly turns to light
When the lights pick rainbow colors
Tandem browns joys of toys abound
All around surrounds
Sleep I must
They I trust, in the light and the dark
Parents can’t see only me
This whole thing seems like a dream
----------------------------------------------Tandem toys come a live at light~~
1/24/19 2019©