Long Heft Poems
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The tears of women, men and children’s death.
It’s small and cozy pews, there’s no one left —
The church near water’s edge sighs Spirit’s breath.
Up comes the dawn, of heaven secureth.
The resurrected saints no more bereft;
The tears of women, men and children’s death.
The bride does brightly shine with gentle-strength.
It’s quaint, alone, but filled with trousseau’s heft —
The church near water’s edge sighs Spirit’s breath.
This collared man does dunk heads underneath.
The ebb and flowing robes in the Lord’s cleft.
The tears of women, men and children’s death.
With illumined faces and free from wrath,
They splash out of the sea and no one’s left.
The church near water’s edge sighs Spirit’s breath.
The Pastor’s pay not much but with great depth,
For one by one regains the devil’s theft.
The tears of women, men and children’s death.
The church near water’s edge sighs Spirit’s breath.
1/22/2020
Your Best 2019-2020 Villanelle Poetry Contest
Sponsor: William Kekaula
A rhetorical question finds me asking
(to no one in particular) why I recall
the names of grade school teachers
approximately fifty years ago (whose
names listed below), when the need
to retrieve necessary information due
ring examinations (less time ago)
often found me seized with sudden
inability to remember any vital ants
sirs (even including my name), thus
grudgingly handing over blank test paper
analogously surrendering a vital
document gracing terms of defeat
into the scaly claws (zen nay), sans
first to sixth grade Precambrian relic
(Missus Batson, Missus Rittenhouse,
Missus Wells, Mister Stout,
Missus Shaner, or Miss Rinderle).
Invariably majority of first thru
sixth grade accorded accredited
ancient authenticated creatures.
They freely exercised diabolical
churlish beastial animalistic zeal
us yakking, wickedly unprintable
upon (unprincipled urchin) at
receiving end of fiendishly grue
some hellish instructions. Assign
ments buttressed with ultimatums
harkening back to Jurassic period
earlier in dawning primate con
sciousness. Lesson material kindled
with justifiable license in league
with garnered insignia. Heft
to bring pupils to heal predicated
via warp and weft woven wonder
fully. Wrought writs welcomed
whips with warranty whenever
recalcitrant ruffian refused
respecting reptilian rubric repre
sentative rattling (The Idler Wheel
Is Wiser Than the Driver of
the Screw and Whipping Cords
Will Serve You More Than Ropes
Will Ever Do), which loosely
rendered regularly warbled
wishy washy verse curmudgeons
freedom granted to interpret
as one decrepit, hawkish insignia
certified one beaming Eve and/
or stud deed brute soffit. Education
often relied on the weekly reader,
and letters to and/or from Aunt
Emma. Nefarious mean linkedin
kickstarter jawboning torturous
treatment tolerated, asper imps
of the pervert, mutant Ninja
Turtles duty bound antsy
youthful yokel yodelers
weathering ululating sing-song
and quintessential precepts.
Whit dat tight till - say
yes, aye wool thank ewe
mooch at least for today
hoof fully (this Joe kerr)
can easily bide his time weigh
beef hoar rammy cows come home.
Meantime India interim
lemme clover - reaching
far out on dam moost precarious limb,
bot do nut inspect me tub bark prim
and proper, nor procrastinate for tim
marrow, cause spontaneous whim
will lose heft, no matter how inane
poetic palaver could by then
elude ding me noggin to explain
nebulous jibber jabber hokey folderol
even confusing to a Great Dane
a dog (of course)
man's/woman's beast friend,
not hounding visa vis discovering
you improperly verb (bait him)
bone a fied with noun (sense)
barking up wrong tree
dangling modifier as gerund
faux paws and inquisitive,
nonetheless countenance do lend
sincere cachet gnome hatter compared
to average superficial *****sapien
said former doggone creature just thru
facial expression can mend
"broken" heart and soul,
which rhyming tangent did send
yours truly off scent, asper initial trend
actually truth be told, no paw tickle har
matter, I sought to sink teeth into,
but let babbling stream of consciousness wend,
where petty full extemporaneous tooting
oh my didgeridoo, which initially scares
the dickens out gills of hooting
blowfish until they recognize
this bloke juiced pooting
air thru a long wooden tube, be yule
then their piousness piqued to pisces,
gather together as if attending school
always mindful to follow
the goldenfish rule
i.e. aldi tom not erring,
floundering, and getting
tricked, royally suckered, and
hooked becoming gruel
resulting within tummy higher
up the feeding chain,
survival of dragnets cruel.
fission expedition for
salmon to hope fillet
enjoys almost done hook,
line and sinker - hooray,
sans to steal mental energy,
and precious time may
king another reason to be
persnickety and every ray
zen to be guarded, when
wading in cyber seas tay
king precautions, once
I return from Uruguay.
Rats! Mine Poetic Submissions Once Again Deemed Floccinaucinihilipilification
/?fläks??nôs??ni?hil??pil?fi'kaSH?n/
(floc·ci·nau·ci·ni·hil·i·pil·i·fi·ca·tion)
Countless declined submissions of mine,
tipping scales massive
Earth Atlas shrugged,
(he nonchalantly shouldered
1.317 × 10^25 lbs)
sends storied ambition plummeting
millstone yoked neck analogous
to bajillion pound weight
thus yours truly
doth modify expectations
absolute zero prospect
I will posthumously
attain poet laureate status
within human league,
asper dignified luminaries
comprising cognoscenti pantheon
posthumously storied authors
renown unto posterity,
yet ever since disembarking...
fashioning, finagling, forging
building blocks of English Language
humble mission courtesy this wordsmith
never sunk entrenched ambitions
into virtual sea constituting briny deep
wide whirling webbed waters
intent to reel eyes,
neither fame nor fortune,
but wield unique signature
this landlubber mentally laboring
to heft cumbersome words
chiseling, fitting (jigsaw puzzle pieces)
interlocking snuggly, asper
analogous mortise and tenon,
or (sometimes forcefully jamming)
multisyllabic deeply oceanographic
flowingly, trending intrinsically quixotic
harmonically sympathetic...
to affect pacific effect,
nonetheless attempt to launch,
albeit figuratively shipshape anchored
literary endeavor metrically
bobbing (with square pants) along
gently down stream of consciousness
side stepping excessively
indignant, flagrant, arrogant...
undertones, yet present
political perturbations pain
this doubting Thomas unitarian,
whose outlook good n plenti grim,
especially insatiable thirst
about global/world events
can barely be slaked!
(lesson taught during the foggy night
of December 29th, 2018)
Right there on the driver side
front seat of locked car
(2009 Hyundai Sonata
if that adds mar
soup pea el uber lyft, heft,
distraction, et cetera),
but may as well
bajillion miles afar
happened to mocking me
braking means to
mosey along tar
nation (albeit via four wheels),
plus access to apartment impeded,
yes which plight found
yours truly ajar
to concern lest a kick
starter prowler burglar,
and ransack maybe even hotwire
sole mode of locomotion lowering bar
on being a lunkhead,
dunderhead, bonehead,
et cetera, where mind
went AWOL earning par
tickle yule early cat us strophic
topic for poem - ah betcha yar
laughing (similar to the missus)
at my expense, asper war
re: ring how to resolve dilemma
as if a mouse caught by Gar
field with mere seconds to spar
(okay a bit of exaggeration),
but then Char
Lee horse made
an unexpected appearance,
thus incommodious, I hobbled
slow as a caterpillar
part way in the dark
til finally reaching familiar
windows of unit b44
thankfully unlocked,
thus plucked courage, and
grabbed reachable bedpost insofar
as to hoist my (nada so lightweight
former youthful body),
where every intercellular
muscle creaked, groaned,
and protested forced to
stretch to unfamiliar
height, length, width, et cetera
nonetheless, the porpoise
accomplished, matter I felt like
a dolphin with missing flipper,
though once dramatic egress complete,
an influx of radar
love bombarded this cerebral
noggin, sans global surveillance drone
broadcast akin to shofar,
whereat this mild mannered man
suddenly found himself semi popular.
(thus, I revel to reveal
more'n juiced poppycock
perhaps casting impression,
I hale from Mars,
thus this wordsmith
willfully exposes emotional scars.)
Fear of challenging myself,
and/or lack of where
with all to confront
psychological
(dis) comfort zones,
that passivity did veer
really inadvertently,
currently indirectly,
galvanically charged
as deaf fence sieve barrier
and hermetically, inherently
sealed (unclear)
to me how to dispatch
i.e. (muster)
courage to tear
down invisible
barricade shuttering
acute (oblique striated
mein kampf existence),
thee dulled eyes
didst blankly stare,
ring just beyond
the impaled psyche
liberation i.e. freedom rare
rung only plaintively relished
by this self condemned,
cuz aye felt
scared (to death) living,
which may seem *****
nearly equivalent
being solitarily confined,
with absolute zero chance
(on broken wing or prayer)
life sentence,
would NEVER be commuted,
asper this outlier,
and/or less
prospect for parole
never came near
well nigh since birth
(as this popping
creaking, and crack
ling body electric
inexorably approaches
LX orbitz
around Earth) mere
lee experienced his existence,
not worth
any king to leer
not even worth
Doppelganger to jeer
only the hollow echo strictly
I can only hear
as an aging toothless
grimacing crookedly
raggedy man doth glare
from cracked mirror,
twill bid fare
well to optimism - endear
himself to forfeit any dare
ring do only
remaining holed up
sitting against
a hard backed chair
reflecting on bleakly obtuse
countless unmet dreams bare
heft desolate freight tinned woes
only thru limply
lame poetry I can air.
Twins two headed, thy talents.
What on earth to say?
O kings majestic, paid rents?
Otherwise dismay!
Viralized infection?
Excuse means cut it out.
Downward thy direction?
Challenger lost his bout.
Ground, thy gold. First bought, then sold.
Polled and doubly old.
Warrior fierce, with hands a-cold?
Broken was the mold.
Things did not turn out right?
Well, smile on it awhile.
Counted stars in dim twilight!
Golem, please use thy guile.
Northward pointed all thy ways?
Dim like lingering days.
Stray not, travelers, from thy maze?
Carrion crows a-craze.
Flock of sun god, on thy left!
How to be bereft?
O dark chasm, stab to heft?
Open like a cleft!
Rock, thy rolling motion?
O portal, open wide.
What a quaintly notion!
Wormhole, thus woe betide!
Avalanches breaking free!
Devil seeking fee!
Dark fire blessings, may ye be!
Thunder o'er the sea!
Cold as harvest winters?
Autumn can have its chills.
Children can get splinters!
Grave robbers, paid thy bills?
Opopanax, thy delight?
Opium, pain is good?
Ore atop the hills of night!
Sirens sang of 'should'.
Doom, thy cloud. O burial shroud!
No use talking loud!
Widows, are thy heads a-bowed?
Fields of salt a-plowed...
We wear this earth
and bear the heft of stones,
glacier-galled, polished by
eons of slow crawl
toward far-too-distant views
which call us from
our blue thin-air shell,
this shallow soil where, weak,
the hold of roots restrain.
We struggle to break free
from such restricting strata --
and to expand (as bubbles rise and glisten) --
to throw off
this world -- to emerge
new-born from natal egg
and -- freed -- to flee among the stars.
She looked at me with tears in her eyes
And slowly but surely I began to realize
She wanted me to be more
And it shook me the core
She offered me a shaking hand
But it passed through my fingertips like sand
She was never meant to be mine
No matter how I might pine
For she is not a she
Can't you see?
But she lives in my soul
That's black like coal
Working hard to polish a gem
As she sings a healing hymn
Unfortunately no diamonds only rhinestone
For my faith was taken to the grindstone
So don't be surprised by a lack of heft
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I have nothing left
I absolutely abhor that I could not be more
With finality snaps shut the door
But I think you can see
I'm really out of my tree
Upon further inspection
In a pool of water see the reflection
She lives inside my mind because she was never real
I just cling to the idea of her like she's something to steal
Because if she really is out there
She needs to understand it's not fair
That I was left here
At this lonely pier
With little but a fire inside
And a burning desire to confide
I'm afraid this is my Swan song
Because I've had it all wrong
I looked at her with tears in my eyes
And slowly but surely I began to realize
I wanted her to be more
And it shook me to the core
But can't I see
She was always fantasy
For me
religion must have a solemnity,
a heft like towering cliffs, places
of silence and the majesty of sunsets.
Religion must be big enough to hold
vast forests, extend beyond
the furthest galaxy and yet be small
enough to fit inside a seed.
For me
religion must have a veil of mystery
like clouds that conceal a mountain's
height, like music that moves the soul
without the listener knowing why
and the sublime in poetry.
Religion must be kind and caring
and contain something greater
than the self.
For me,
religion must not divide
or promise life through exclusivity,
but be a way of making whole
and to give thanks for creation
to whatever or whoever
you believe that to be.