Long Insinuated Poems
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from birth until this moment with your family as supporting team
the journey within your space/ time continuum stream
found trials and tribulations comprising the spool o yar existential ream
some incidents assessed in retrospect might now appear
as particularly significant undertakings – getting you grounded with clear
insight into what future dreams may become manifest with yar dear
beloved husband – I aver to when ye will endure empty nest fair
lee soon, whereby yar life will constitute andy and his anatomical gear
whose cupidity, fidelity, integrity, levity, opportunity, runneth tranquil
tiding up for gatherings or packing with his efficient globe trotting skill
bubbling with energy, harmony, synergy through his confluence he rill
lee doth possess – in my humble opinion, though less to take quill
to paper, him this brother in law applauds how he accepted any bitter pill
i.e. figuratively when the fickle finger of fate seemed to obscenely mill
a tate a contrary outcome than he desire, a fighting esprit de corps did fill
his entire being – putting forces of destruction re: no longer threat of evil
which waywardness with this poetic intent to type a birthday cheer
sans thy lovely sister activated thoughts pertaining to positive people dear
as senescence shuttles thine youngest harris heiress who everywhere
she goes affects a blessedly diplomatic, friendly holistic imprimatur
and thus tis probably apropos to attempt to communicate with mere
crude symbols i.e. the 26 letters of the alphabet to formulate the near
wrist approximating her significance in me xy z lived life a prayer
and many a broken wing, but tis necessary 4 me 2 expunge – though rear
the positive presence (most often invisible) whence shari did tear
out from the birth canal even at that early infantile stage did wear
autonomy to evince can do spirit whereby she irresistibly insinuated an air
that inexplicably captivated family, friends, romans….with no blare
ring burst, but she exhibited a magnetic trait – I now heartily cheer
cuz many stepping stones to mine current ah fair
rooted tuber remembered per the unsolicited advice aye did hear
when oft times shuttered in this man cave, hell lair
re: us lee chuckling at online jokes, which laugh tier
medicine for this bot deed father, a pro motor still sputtering each year.
My body confides in me
in grudging ways,
with little murmurs and signs,
each trying to get attention
without snapping its fingers in my face,
like faint, mysterious radio signals from (inner) outer space
that escape detection often,
comprehension always,
small aches that ghost through my body and
the already over-populated radar of my consciousness,
as if keen on being missed,
rashes like miniature night bloomers on the
vast landscapes of my limbs and torso,
origins unknown,
non-rashes, equally tiny, anonymous things,
that surface but don’t stay long enough
before sinking back into the realm of the forgotten,
eyelid twitching out a code decipherable by no man.
I receive frequent messages,
hinted, insinuated, encrypted.
My body has its own mind.
I’m trying to be a better reader.
Seven Mossad Agents came to Norway a winter day
when a snow drowns the needs of the homeless
asleep in a shop's doorway absorbing the sarcastic smell
of coffee and the aroma of a Napoleon cream cake.
Their mission was to assassinate a man called a terrorist
by them, but freedom fighters by others.
The target had been located, a man of 47 bearded, with
prematurely gray hair, Semitic features, and a nose somewhat bigger than what is the norm in a Nordic land
He works as a waiter at a cafe, and take the bus home
a quarter past ten in the evening, to his bed-sit, about ten minutes ride from the town.
The group needed two taxis to take them to a hotel called, “Larsen's ski lodge” a pleasant little place with
modern IKEA furniture, giving rooms an airy ambiance
the group went to work at once, the leader carrying a
heavy mobile phone, trying to make contact to base, one presumes an embassy, but failed.
One of the women donned a blond wig, walked to the cafe to be sure their target was there
a quarter past ten two men entered the bus, one of them
who spoke a few word in Swedish, asked for two ticket to Husly which was the lat stop before the bur turned around and back to town
when the “terrorist” alighted the bus the two assassins followed.
No point going into details here, but they got their man
and hid his body in a snow drift.
Cooley, they stood by the stop to catch the bus on its return trip, smoking cigarettes of a foreign brand oblivious eyes saw them at the bus stop
The assassins had overlooked one thing, the man had a girlfriend and when he didn't appeared as usual she went out looking for him with the help of neighbors
Her boyfriend was found in the snowdrift
the police quickly knew what they were dealing with
but since they, the local police were not armed, they waited for reinforcement, when in the morning the assassin group came out to go to the railways station
the group were arrested.
Then the bomb dropped, they had murdered the wrong man, another Arab, they quickly insinuated was a terrorist too, what else was he doing in Norway
The court case took a long time, one of the prosecutors
fell in love with the woman with a fake wig, tried to
say she was an innocent bystander, it didn't wash
the case dragged on, in the end, and since the holocaust
was invoked, the guilty only got a few years.
This article is about the underground lyricist and outlaw musician. For other uses, see Zoltan Goliath, Brent Scorn, Lydia Fox, C. Günter Marrow, Elzbieta Bienga (disambiguation).
Otis (Trench Mouth) Trench was born with pneumonia in a black-rain steel town in Third World, Pennsylvania. He was not expected to survive and received Last Rites. His unction was so extreme, however, Death could not grab hold and he slipped away. He grew up wild, learned his letters from a ragman’s son and took off for the high country and the deep blue sea. Upon his return, he landed a job tending bar in a low life shot-and-beer joint called the Old Salem Tavern, but referred to by locals as The Country Whore Inn. He began composing lyrics as a way of minding the tide and easing the drift. It continues to be an on-going process. In a recent interview with the fashion editor of A Dim, Dark Mirror, Mr. Trench was quoted as saying:
At this specific stage of my existence, and in consideration of the circumstances in which I find myself, it surprises me to discover that rumors of my downfall have been insinuated within the chronology of my tenure, since, upon completion of an extensive and thorough inventory of my physical and spiritual estate, as best can be determined by the faculties I still retain within my possession and deemed by myself to be valid and reliable given an honest assessment of the facts of the matter; I testify for the official record, and in a fashion suitable to be notarized, authorized and cauterized, that regarding the state of my particulars, I am of the firm, unwavering opinion, despite whatever dissenting voices may be heard chiming discordantly in some distant pasture of manure-sodden earth seeking to either disturb my slumber or provoke my wrath, and regardless of whatever graying whiskers I may in fact possess, I aver assuredly that in contradiction to all appearances and any other details not withstanding – my ass ain’t draggin’ yet. In consideration of my prognosis, would you hike up your skirt a little higher, honey?
I will always wonder what sort of love we had.
I was naive and blindly infatuated.
You were seventeen years older than I, and sad.
From the beginning our shaky love was fated.
We had met and I fell, but patiently waited,
a fact for which both of our families were glad.
Even though we spoke with words insinuated,
I will always wonder what sort of love we had.
I wonder if we were a curious dyad.
Was this acerbic love become hate belated?
Only God will decide if this is good or bad.
I was naive and blindly infatuated.
Love faded rapidly after we had dated.
I wondered if I should remain calm or be mad,
I questioned guilty feelings that were created.
You were seventeen years older than I, and sad.
You were time-worn, emotionally armor-clad.
I understand now you would never be sated.
You bore the spirit of an unsettled nomad,
from the beginning our shaky love was fated.
Achingly romantic dreams I had created,
a basis for lifetime togetherness’ launchpad.
Alas, I have become confused and frustrated.
Tomorrow, in a renewed search for Galahad,
I will always wonder.
At the mercy of anticipatory anxiety, hence...
viz hitted courtesy debilitating panic attacks
Upon waiting for vehicular repair
today November 19th, 2019 at:
CJ'S TIRE & AUTOMOTIVE SERVICES
(1405 S Township Line Rd,
Royersford, PA 19468),
yours truly, i.e. mister re: man
registered lamentable paroxysm.
All thru mein kampf inferiority complex
analogous invisible muscular heft did flex,
quaking, hijacking, agonizing...
jinxed irrevocable hex
re: heredity did initially index
courtesy Boyce and Harris,
who begat me
guaranteed, fixed, decreed...
courtesy accursed lex
lucifer mortal christened
Matthew Scott Harris – insinuated
jackknifed, kickstarted, limned,
machined, nixed, ordered... orifex
encompassing hardiest inscrutable
seminal entry point
penetrated zona pellucida, qua Rex
wrought flawed crown
faulty erroneous biological code,
within body electric mutation
fleshed out, I lament
analogous courtesy neophyte Unix
programmer, yes I hedge
to intimate biological event
upon impregnation sent
reproductive juices into action
miracle whipped processes
wielded unbeknownst advent,
whereby subsequent
cell division manifested,
albeit nine months later enfant
terrible asper:in,
this then newborn gent
lo' within zygote,
every generic ingredient
already harbored yours truly
characteristic weaknesses full extent
unbeknownst until DNA blooper rent
birthed, thence as I developed absent
pronounceable kinks vis a vis
trademark characteristics became present
evinced thru behavioral, emotional,
interpersonal, neurological aberrations
costing me (lake dude...) woebegone descent
wretchedness faux forfeiting every moment
only recent (think today)
entire existence misspent
oddly enough even compromising
ability to serve meant
two daughters, (especially eldest)
decry horrible life pent
up with rage against human machine
referring to paternal birth parent,
whose pathetic example rent
asunder psyches linked with offspring
hence, I best ought to have
joined a convent (ha).
Twas really only of late,
I realized fuller blown extent
house zing deplorable... state
absolute zero scholastic, tete a tete
opportunistic, generic, athletic...
*****sapien astride oblate
spheroid devoid of any
marketable skill doth resonate.
Adventitious existence birthed introverted spiritual outlier i.e. me
Speculative fictitious flirtation imagined
courtesy grown old male offspring (me)
begat when mine late mother and father met
former named, a popular Arthur Murray
ballroom dance studio instructor.
Subtle social cues (nonverbal or otherwise)
relayed, linkedin and exchanged
constituting courtship between
Harriet and Boyce
particularly on Valentine's Day
circa ~ mid 1950's.
Two young lovebirds
oblivious to cares and concerns
of uncertain webbed wide world
passionately kissed each other
murmuring sweet nothings
within most convenient ear of the other.
Romance blossomed
requited love ensued
avowed marital troth pledged,
a June 1955 wedding planned.
Soon thereafter
bedroom door locked, I presume
unbridled call of the wild
high powered pistol loosed
courtesy soundcloud hit bullseye
with figurative vroom
biological seed of life
and white Lily fertilized.
Thirteen months after eldest sister born
suckling from horn
of good hope
breast nursing done during the morn.
Forthwith brother planted in womb
hereditary characteristics transmitted
eons old traits disseminated
multitude of random chromosomes
deployed comprising frothy spume
housed generations foregone
maternal and paternal genes
unleashed unwittingly bequeathed
by ancestral forebears
anonymous long forgotten handsome groom
memorabilia couched as tintype
(also known as
a melainotype or ferrotype)
treasured analogous as
if relic dug up within ancient tomb,
perhaps clapper and bell foretold whom
yours truly acquired his
mental health predilection
predisposed toward gloom
mindset swirls with nihilistic doom.
Psychological angst chafes and doth abrade
existential crisis rooted psyche with ankh ring
travesty, mockery, and entropy cast charade
circumspection immediately
brings to forefront
of consciousness positive (necessary)
risk taking I did evade
exemplified by failing nearly every grade
inferiority complex insinuated and did invade
mucking up healthy livingsocial buzzfeeding,
when too many cooks spoil the broth,
hence being superfluous kitchenaid,
hence as schnorrer I masquerade.
I fell ill.
My heart dilated.
I had a pain on Christmas Eve
where my heart should be.
I remember because my sister
called me from Australia.
I said "I have a pain in my chest Teresa."
I had dissolved my marriage and
my mother was recently dead.
My work as a midwife on night duty
was too stressful.
The doctor refused to come to
the too hot, too heavy,
newborn December baby.
Like a turkey out of the oven.
I fell ill.
The heartless cardiologist insinuated
I had four years to live.
My heart had dilated.
Teresa whispered in my ear on leaving
for Australia again after Mum's funeral.
"I will come home to nurse you."
I got a second opinion.
I told him "My heart is broken".
He treated me with respect
until I got better again.
My heart has healed.
My heart had to break
for me to break free from you.
I survived against all odds.
I almost ended it all. How foolish.
My heart has healed.
My future car from sealed.
"If you desire healing,
let yourself fall ill
let yourself fall ill."
- Jalaluddin Rumi
29/11/2016
A Realization
Once upon a time, a baby was born
In a small town near the green mountains.
He was living life off from thorn.
Blessed! But he’s always in pains?
He had all that he desiderates;
…All sorts of visual things he named.
His life was viewed by people as perfect
But his jaundiced views were not tamed.
His conviction of what’s good from bad,
To obey his parents or his heart?
All “withins” conflicted realities;
But stood still gaining victories.
When he craved for peace and happiness
The world insinuated, “Gain degrees!”
He obeyed the world and “he” ‘til fitness
Has drawn. A striving man almost ceased!
The tour of uncertainties fastened.
Then, he was asymptotic to death.
“The search for realities is through- end?
What’s really real? To view death as faith?”
When he was fighting for his lone life,
He search again what was unanswered.
He screamed, “God…God… are… are you alive?
Before this ends, be real! You’re unheard!”
He suddenly filled like stone from above.
The sound of ambulance was heard.
Its sound was like freedom of a dove?
Or it sounded like death- we always feared?
A sad month passed by just like a jerk.
There was no hope and nothing to hope!
One single night reality was torqued.
He shouted, “God is real!” and woke!
And from then on the doubtful boy was fixed.
All his incertitude was vanished.
A renewed life after a heavy rain?
Or rainbow after reality finding?
A Ghoulish Midnight...
WALKING through an eerie empty field,
Unbelievable! I see three abominable witches around a cauldron!
The Witches from the Hell!
are there a toad, fillet of a snake, toe of a frog, and...
tongue of a dog, and what not - brewing together to make a potion!!!!
How come I find the ominous figures who insinuated Macbeth!
I am not a warrior, no way I want to be the King of England!
Three CREEPY figures DESCENDING from the DARKNESS all around,
there appears a frightful castle on top of the hill,
which was just ordinary yesterday, now
turns into a looming nightmare,
under the spell of an uncanny moon,
probably inhabited by blood-sucking Dracula.
SILHOUETTES of ghosts and goblins are freely roaming in the OPEN,
from the GLOOM of the night I hear werewolves howling...
their shiny teeth gritting and glaring
don't spot any LIVING being except me!!!
Am I the only Victim?!
I DREAD this menacing night. I run and run...
falling into an abyss of frightening silence!
Ohhhhh..Thank my stars! I am alive!
These must be all hallucinations of a HALLOWEEN night!
October 25, 2022
For "Halloween" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
10 required words in bold
Writing Challenge - "X'd Poems Second Chance" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France