Long Incoherently Poems
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Eyes as blue as the cloudless sky,
Hair as dark as a starless night,
Jaw as sharp as a shining blade,
And face as smooth as the wet sand on the beach
With a voice as warm as the sun
On a hot summer's day
All of these aspects of Mr-Blue-Eyed-Monster
Are great,
But those are nothing more than his outer image
Have you ever seen the boyish grin
That formed when he was happy?
Or the way his eyes would sparkle
When he spoke of something he loved?
How about the way he stutters when he's nervous
And blushes when he's said something dumb
Or just plain shy?
You've never cared for his insecurities
You only pointed them out.
You've never seen him tremble at the sound of thunder,
Or cry when Dobby died.
You've never seen him bite his lip
When he's afraid he's upset you
Or how he fiddled with his hands when he asked you out
You've never heard him fumble over words
Or trip more times than you could count
Because he's simply too nervous for the first date
You've never seen how his eyes shine
Under the fireworks at midnight
On New Year's Day
You wouldn't know that he asks for permission
Every time he wants a kiss
Or how he carries mistletoe
Every single Christmas
So that he won't need to ask for a kiss that day.
How he wears mismatched socks
Because he always loses the other one to a pair
Or how he promises to never lose you the way he loses them
-Because he's too damn cheesy.
You've never heard him complain about
The expectations he has to reach or
How he's worried for his marks
You've never seen how
He messes up he's hair
And mutters incoherently
In foreign languages,
Worried that he'll disappoint everyone
Yet again
You've never heard how he laughs
At his own little jokes
And calls them brilliant
Even though they're lame
All you've cared about was
Hot-Blue-Eyed-Boy
And whether he's good in bed
You haven't considered that he's keeping that
For his special someone
Because all you see
Is another good looking boy
So you automatically think that he must be like other boys.
Well, he's not.
You haven't considered that
There's more to him than
His voice like the sun,
And eyes like the sky
He's not just another boy.
No two people are the same
- Or so the Blue-Eyed-Monster has taught me.
I met this stranger the other day....
I met a stranger just the other day,
Wandering the halls,
in a hospital’s way.
My mind was spinning,
feeling so low,
But this kind soul made my troubles go.
Gave me comfort with a heart of gold,
Words like magic,
warmed me from the cold.
Cheered me up,
just bein' kind,
An hour late ‘cause I was cryin’,
lost in my mind.
Kindness can surprise,
catch you unaware,
But let it in,
if their soul’s laid bare.
This stranger helped me in the night,
Their kindness a beacon,
shining bright.
I’m in a happy love,
with feelings so true,
Talkin’ ‘bout my loved ones,
tears just flew.
Their love and support,
my solid ground,
But speakin' of them,
tears came down.
Sometimes you need someone when you're feelin’ low,
A soul to lift you up,
let your spirit glow.
This stranger gave an hour,
showin' they cared,
Listenin' to my story,
knowin' they were there.
No matter the sex,
male or female,
Who cares about labels,
let them prevail.
If they’ve got a good soul,
that's what counts,
Inside is where true worth mounts.
Even bought my book,
'Fate is Inexorable, Fighter Mode',
Such a big heart,
on this heavy road.
Hope we meet again,
not to be estranged,
This stranger’s kindness,
my thoughts rearranged.
So there I was,
jarred back,
feelin' pain,
Stranger came out to the pourin' rain.
Asked if I was okay,
seemed surreal,
I was thinkin' the same,
in a dream so real.
Met this stranger just the other day,
Helped me out,
listened to what I had to say.
I spoke incoherently,
they stayed true,
Hung on every word,
before we said adieu.
Unexpected moments,
caught me off guard,
Hate cryin' in front of folks,
it’s so hard.
In my wheelchair,
feelin' three feet tall,
Talkin’ to a stranger,
emotions did fall.
As we parted ways,
I felt a glow,
A stranger's kindness,
now I know.
In a world so cold,
they brought the heat,
With their big heart,
made me feel complete.
Thank you,
stranger,
for the time you gave,
Your kindness and care,
the way you stayed.
In this life’s journey,
we crossed paths,
Now my heart feels the warmth that lasts.
Spoiler Forewarning Alert!
This averred title announced straight
away so lingering fans
(hoop fully letting me abbreviate)
a short cut so ye
can up and evacuate,
while metered time,
not yet foregone and not to late
hence best heed mine caution
which can protect minimum damage,
asper gray matter within pate
or blithely ignore
admonishment, aye accentuate
hmm...okay,...you apparently
decided to forsake adequate
prophecy, resigning despite
honest to dog admission to punctuate
a most unpleasant prediction,
I did woof lee aerate
worst case scenario,
leaving disabling genetic trait
to effect generations,
where legions of lesions adulterate
causing future offspring to mutate
and closely resemble
teenage mutant turtles, this potentate
(albeit self declared
only mein kampf, thee only life,
his existence he can arrogate
he doth officiate),
hence proceed at your own risk,
to avoid unpleasant fate,
visited upon unborn sons and daughters
uttering imprecations
unintelligible expletive laced spate,
that would approximate
(a cross between duck and pig)
incoherently gutturally excoriate
ting tee, thus don't tell me, I didn't
forewarn ya, whar
yar heart might palpitate,
thus causing da ole
ticker to fluctuate
dem eyes of yaws
could severely dilate,
while sweat gushes out every pore
streaming like liquid useless tube video,
a salty sea would then perspirate
out every last drop of fluid,
erupting magmatic plasma
to pool agglomerate
right under keister,
a lovely bag of bones
delivered to Norristown State
which inability to hydrate,
hence resultant mummification
heroic measures futile
thus humane decision would necessitate
and remaining days
on Earth numbered
starting with zero, not very great,
now this extinct reptile
hoop heed dead gratefully,
express message, and clearly articulate.
He knows he acts like a dumbass
sometimes
An overzealous hopeless romantic
But this is a little much
Even for him
Luckily, he's got a partner in crime
this time
"You're totally gonna marry her, arentcha!?"
Yells Boomer, his Boston accent thick
punching the Lover in the knee
"Totally!" shouts the Lover. "You dick!"
punching Boomer back
They can barely hear each other
as the music system blasts out
a classic love song
They can barely understand each other
anyway
'Cause they are full on...
incoherently....
High
Like, for-real high
as kites in the sky
The Lover and his two buddies
Boomer and Omar
went out for a happy hour
Monday night, a dead town
Then went back to Boomer's apartment
Blazed up
Omar is "wearing a toe tag"
Passed out on the ground
They already drew on his face
with a Sharpie
His Lover comes back from vacation
tomorrow night
and he has never been so excited
to see anybody like now
He told Boomer that
which is why the crazy bastard cranked up
old love songs
Boomer's girlfriend is coming back in two days
Boomer is the only friend of the Lover
with a long-term girlfriend too
And they give each other cover
For being whipped
by significant others
They belt out another verse
"Yaaaahhh, Dude!" yells Boom
The Lover shouts back
"I AM going to totally marry my girl!"
Boomer's maniacal laugh
as he sparks up another J
Grabs his old-style stereo system's volume knob
Turns it ALL the way up
His eyes red like the devil
"YAAHHHHHH, DUDE!" Boomer bellows
"MEEE TOOO"
In gales of marijuana-induced laughter
An urge for a steak and cheese
or potato chips
or both...
...and a pizza
growing inside through the haze
The Lover realizes they both mean it
"YEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH, DUDE!" he hollers back
and starts singing along again
at the top of his lungs
And For Supper Tonight...
The Missus Prepared Her Trademark Tortilla Pizza
Hmm...yum...after a hard
days night of reading Hebrew,
though I do not know a word,
nonetheless taking leftist to right
correspondence course tubby guru
hoop fully coaxing posthumous fame and glory
detailing mundane epistles about this Matthew,
yours truly indulged in delicious comestible eschew
wing noncombustible vegetarian ingredients,
asper supp pur ream culinary
innovative eats, she whipped up anew
(similar how mine late mum did construe
tasty dishes to buzzfeed famished motley crew),
anyway thee wife comprised something new
microwaved cooked, (the stove off limits),
yet savory extemporaneous hodgepodge
usually delightful originating predicated on Jew
whoosh heritage, sans unpredictable menu
within fount tin head,
where earlier this evening she drew
forth, the above titled nonpareil zesty
substantial adequately satiating
me tummy, which uttered
(rather incoherently) halloo
since supercalifragilous expialidocious impossible
mission to verbalize
with full mouth, relishing anew
analogous when just a whippersnapper,
viz teenage mutant ninja turtle lapping stew
wickedly bubbling cauldron warming Inuits igloo
thawing this adventure seeker,
when a mere hatchling shew
wing fearlessness, I unwittingly got shell lacked
(became nearly homeless) sent askew
enroute rescued courtesy Mister Magoo
aforesaid Eskimos he knew
nursed me back to health
shaman donned as a "FAKE" kangaroo
accompanied by apprentice
trumpeting on Taj Mahal miniature didgeridoo,
which nostalgic "FAKE" memory
spouse poked das man
i.e., dozing papa awake asking review,
regarding Tortilla Pizza comprising:
whole wheat tortilla, dairy free vegan cheese
organic mild salsa
meatless crumbles
cubed eggplant.
If you're sitting comfortably and have locked your mobile 'phones,
I'll tell you all a story about Indiana Jones
I met him on a wooden bench whilst strolling through a park
He was mumbling incoherently about some missing ark
At some point back in history, a loaded ark set sail
The animals had disembarked according to his tale
Instead, some coins and jewellery were loaded from the dock
But several chests were not secured and the hull began to rock
I offered him some peppermints to show my gratitude
And listened hard for any hints of track or latitude
His plans seemed very tentative but he clearly had ambition
But didn't even know the name of this ark, or its position.
The headland where the ark decayed was really quite remote
And the islanders with crates of gold, they didn't want to gloat
The bodies of the final crew were never, ever found
But Mister Jones was quite convinced - that ship had run aground.
The barmaid had a hunch the wreck was east of the Azores
But she had no time for banter, 'cos she had to do her chores
If she shared her speculation, she'd be scolded by her mum -
Were it not for weekly meetings, they would not be selling rum.
I never went back to that pub to meet that motley crew
Whose plans seemed quite ridiculous, I had better things to do.
If you are ever tempted to sail away in stormy weather
Steer clear of men with stubble, wide-brimmed hats and shabby leather.
Arks are ships of substance with many planks and beams
Losing one is careless and much harder than it seems
If a fellow on a park bench engages you in conversation
Stand up to him and shout “Raid an ark of known location!”
Do not wall yourself
dead within my eyes
as Anarkali was, alive
your silent tomb
as if Orpheus
I glance to seek you
but cruel Hades has
torn you back
to his hateful lair.
I am Odysseus
fighting demons
into oblivion
do hasten swiftly
into the night!
Oh, wait for me
resolve is not far off.
Agamemnon hurries
to your shore
valiantly seeking you
do not cower deeply
for he will not find you
cannot bring you back.
Let me not
be Anthony and
believe your death as
truthful permanence
rather to know that you
defer only for this moment
delaying my absolution.
Be not as Layla
and thus exist
in dirt and decay
by my side in awful
deathly consequence
because my madness
built the chasm.
Else, as Victoria I
should mourn you
all the days of my
terrible life
weeping sadly over
your bloody veil
hanging in the lion’s
mouth so that
my sword pierces me.
Aye, rather to be
found out by Arthur
in your arms
breathing my last
kiss into you
struck down in his
mighty rage with you
enveloped in my grasp.
Refuse to be as fickle
as Scarlett only to
return to find a
madman long gone
drifting insanely
wandering incoherently
my love killed to death
with Romeo’s poison.
Sick with longing I
desperately crave
an affirmation
like Tristan’s sail
the sail I
seek in earnest
and what is the truth?
What consequence?
Can it yet be there
will a mighty angel
cascade toward me
carrying in his
emblazoned arms
your listless form?
just thinking be
I cannot ever miss this.
(click on the pic to preview my poetry book!)
Do not wall yourself
dead within my eyes
as Anarkali was, alive
your silent tomb
as if Orpheus
I glance to seek you
but cruel Hades has
torn you back
to his hateful lair.
I am Odysseus
fighting demons
into oblivion
do hasten swiftly
into the night!
Oh, wait for me
resolve is not far off.
Agamemnon hurries
to your shore
valiantly seeking you
do not cower deeply
for he will not find you
cannot bring you back.
Let me not
be Anthony and
believe your death as
truthful permanence
rather to know that you
defer only for this moment
delaying my absolution.
Be not as Layla
and thus exist
in dirt and decay
by my side in awful
deathly consequence
because my madness
built the chasm.
Else, as Victoria I
should mourn you
all the days of my
terrible life
weeping sadly over
your bloody veil
hanging in the lion’s
mouth so that
my sword pierces me.
Aye, rather to be
found out by Arthur
in your arms
breathing my last
kiss into you
struck down in his
mighty rage with you
enveloped in my grasp.
Refuse to be as fickle
as Scarlett only to
return to find a
madman long gone
drifting insanely
wandering incoherently
my love killed to death
with Romeo’s poison.
Sick with longing I
desperately crave
an affirmation
like Tristan’s sail
the sail I
seek in earnest
and what is the truth?
What consequence?
Can it yet be there
will a mighty angel
cascade toward me
carrying in his
emblazoned arms
your listless form?
just thinking be
I cannot ever miss this.
Will I live longer than I suppose to be living...possibly a centenary,
and struggle on a cane to sustain my weakness?
Those beautiful and vibrant years have fled to impose fears,
making my presence unattractive and more blowzy,
and in the present time, I am isolated and frowzy;
a deteriorated mind feeling the burden of senility?
My motto wasn't " Conquer and be invincible!" No-first mistake was allowed
to mar my perfect character; body and mind in full accord, blending together,
so obstinate in defiance to obstruct any possible pleasure...
was it a deference to holiness? Everywhere explicit posters encouraged promiscuity:
an indulging nation...diverging from the concept of morality!
And however strong was urge to indulge in wrongful acts incoherently,
my doubt gave no indication...that I would have gained from my inequity;
and ruin would have wrecked this conscience and wrenched my spirit;
alone to face the sure wrath of the Divine...while wrestling with my lost worth!
One-stand night didn't nurture a sensation so momentary and insipid,
many times, staring in the cold darkness, I was glad that my behavior wasn't lurid!
And today new pills promise to give more virility,
causing blindness and a probable, sudden death;
and Lord, my intention is not to use them to harm myself,
the gift of longevity was well-received and is well-kept by me!
Unlikely the times past, when my doubt gave no indication,
now it does so plainly and clearly... not swaying my attention!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
In blinded morning, a can of sweetened milk on hand.
Ran to Papa, telling him its emptiness.
Papa said, "Mama is being so busy"
while I was thinking "Maybe, Mama has a liter of milk"
He sealed my mouth by his promise, buying a fresh one.
I just stopped wondering "Is it mine or Papa's?".
Then, I thought the most correct one was "It is Mama's".
I didn't care, indeed. I was just thirsty of milk.
In half day, Papa came home.
Yelled at him cheerfully, unpacked his bag.
But, I found nothing till the last stuff.
An innocent faced-Papa said "Sorry",
butI was a child, only thought crying loudly was saying much.
Mama came to me and said "Don't cry!, I have a liter of milk".
An innocent face changed into panic.
Mama picked me, taking me to her room.
Papa followed us hurriedly, grabbed Mama
and stay a little bit away from me.
They were talking too fast, incoherently: sounding like bilingual voices.
Mama turned up and walked,
left Papa with his panic face.
In the room, Mama had me to lie in a soft bed.
I took a brief look at Papa, he stood still behind the door.
While Mama changed her suit, I was thinking of "what's wrong with Papa".
I didn't care, indeed. I was just thirsty of milk, not a MILK: 'MOM, I'd Like to Knock'.
In mid of wondering, Mama surprised me,
brought me a pack of fresh milk.
I only said thanks, kissed her and ran away to my room,
stopped a while to look at Papa, he gave me a big smile.
Then, I canceled to say "Don't be panic, Papa!"
and ran away