Long Long haired Poems
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diploma acquired magna cum laude – double entendre
Xlv years elapsed since
I (former long haired pencil necked geek)
bid alma mater adieu,
the quietest kid, who never said boo
nobody discerned handy dandy blues clue
what yours truly thought,
cause figurative blanks he drew
remaining quiet as a Unitarian church mouse
never uttered a dog gone peep
extrovertedness he did eschew
even now two score and five years
after donning mortarboard and gown few
and far between words spoken
courtesy me, a former
Norwegian bachelor farmer
Lake Wobegon mine imaginary home
solely without friends grew
impulse to become linkedin
through schizoid personality disorder
offered solitary existence
alone within emotional wilderness hue
cannot imagine loneliness
(analogous to be bajillion miles
from nearest neighbor
while housed within igloo
mattered not whether gentile or Jew)
at tender growing up age obliviousness
suffused every cell constituting
Matthew Scott Harris
interestingly enough yours
truly quite outspoken
thru dimpled cheeky
adipose characterized kazoo
flatulence courtesy pop slop
incorporating secret ingredient
intended to ward off licentious
pheromone exuding females loo
sing hormonal secretions,
anyway said unmentioned
quite tolerant spouse,
(who remained faithfully
married enduring quarter century)
despite incessant husband
buttuck blasting - courtesy moo
ving odoriferous soundcloud waves
issuing ass him tote across avast spatial plane
resultant impact on par with nu
cull lee air fallout ooh
noxious human air pollution pu
tress hint smell as natural deterrent
to sexual reproduction, nevertheless
semen aligned (alphabetically
by athletic prowess) think queue
wee warriors able, eager ready and willing to
increase chromosomal revenue
blaring semper fidelis
as lucky sperm pierces zona pellucida
wee acted screw yule us,
when call of the wild – bald truth
found me to ejaculate and spew
sticky goo, and stopped reproducing
after daughter number two
me unbiased, but both offspring
attractive in their papa's view.
*Image of Danny folk's Boo by YC.
A Black Cat Tale Souvenir
One Saturday morning,
fourteen-year-old Danny,
my neighbor's kid who lives down the road,
would come over to do the lawn
and some simple house chores,
for extra spending money.
Sometimes,
their American Long Haired black cat named, "Boo",
would tag along.
The lawn was okay just weeding,
he swept, mopped, vacuumed,
then brought in some wood
from my wood cord outside,
and filled the wood bin,
then he swept out
the fireplace.
He then takes the flip-top dustpan outside,
pour its contents into a plastic bag,
tie it close and put it into
one of two trash bins
with plastic flip tops.
Boo, sometimes lounges
on my lanai (porch),
or on one of those
trash bins.
That day,
Danny decided to play.
He tosses the bag up into the air,
then have it drop right into the flipped-top trash bin.
Albeit, the bag got snagged
by the metal latch on the bins cover,
it ripped open, causing black soot
to shroud nearby Boo.
While I was outside checking to see
if Danny covered the wood cord,
the event unfolded before me.
Boo's reaction was as anticipated,
there was black soot trailing a flying leap
that scampered down my driveway
and out onto the opened road,
... gone, gone, gone.
Laughing in pursuit
was Danny who tells me that
he will be back for the money
after he hoses down, "Blackie".
Ha, ha, ha, goes Danny whose clueless
as to the memory he had just made for his future.
Leaving nature to clear the mess, closes I a cover, grinning in the silence.
2022 April 02
*1st Place*
Black Cat
~~Robert James Liguori: Judged 2022 April 03
Me... creature of comfort? Bah
Once again mine lock, stock
and barrel trade in balderdash
finds yours truly (i.e. me)
to type poem frisson a$$ off
as dentures chatter and gnash,
while still inside me gobstopper,
(the sole way to generate
plea for coveted heat),
which will moost likely
meet chilly reception
whereby ye will predictably
not even bat an eyelash
perchance receive critical backlash
'pon reading what qualifies
as mine trademark mishmash,
yet though just axing you to quash
knee jerk reaction, or
unfairly con sitter me brash
not trying to make waves splash,
cuz yours truly prefers
amenable conflict resolution versus
airing sentiments online,
where differing opinions
spark byte size clash,
diminishing sympathy for
devilish dude with toothless flash,
(who by the way could benefit
courtesy bajillion dollars in cash),
though lavish largesse
much appreciated stash.
Superfluous here within chilly apartment
reasonably rhyming lament,
cuz central heater spews
cool air out vent,
no matter Kevin with son Kyle
(two man maintenance crew)
formerly named recently
replaced small circuit board,
mine genuine acknowledgement
once given, I surmised meant
his professional technical services
would be unnecessary,
until hot steamy summer weather
necessitates well mannered climate
controlled environment,
whereby malfunctioning
central air conditioning,
would find yours truly
donning bare banal civilities
(think emperor and his
new nonexistent/see thru clothes)
as totally tubular tumblr
harmless long haired fervent
pencil necked baby boomer gent
chilling profusely sweaty geek,
(matt her horn fact dashing
apostle impossible mission
not to chuckle testament)
speeding unsightly birthday suit
scaring old fogey folks out their wits,
especially seeing petrified
atrophied balled naughty BitTorrent.
Thee nonpareil Amelie Beth Harris-McGeehan
blessed honest to dog goodness her person doth bring
never could her brother wish upon NON GMO
(archaeopteryx, buffalo, chicken...) wing,
and genuine prayer anybody more a maze zing.
Many countless years before
our dear mother passed away four
plus eleven earth orbitz ago,
she voluntarily repeated more
times than I can remember "your
older sister possesses altruistic qualities."
The above words enclosed by this bloke
with double quotation marks, okey-doke
not necessarily the way mama spoke,
but yours truly took poetic liberty
without any intention generating impulse to choke
the harmless, nameless, and stateless writer
and literally went bonkers
while going for Baroque
for recognized virtue that recently woke.
Kinship towards angelic, fantastic, pacific anchor
understandable why her spouse did hanker
during their courtship to pledge his troth
to maneuver metaphorical
hook, line, and sinker as though steadying a tanker.
Innocence and naïveté suffused little boy
occupying body of aging long haired
pencil necked geek without gainful employ
and (and as a shy person without benefit
of powdered milk biscuits)
generally trended solitary
verses masing with hoi polloi,
nevertheless ofttimes relentlessly teased
bully me, I loathed treatment on par
with worthlessness linkedin with discarded toy,
thus gratitude prevails toward eldest sibling
(no matter just thirteen plus months older)
pseudo motherhood she did deploy
to ward off aggressive monsters.
I reckon eyes appreciation
matured into present thankful attitude,
now with mooch time to ponder and brood
how earlier in my life behavior childish and crude
methought meself as hotshot dude,
yet these days, I couch sincerity writing
one or another poetic endeavor
knitting words analogous to composing an etude
contemplative, intuitive, and ruminative mental food
for thought hoop ping to convey
honest to goodness gratitude
communicating reasonable rhyming message
(if yee be downcast dearly beloved sister)
delivering uplifting, kickstarting exalting mood.
Surveying
northern autumn afternoon
Pitcherelli, ex-marine, body-builder,
Lussier, long-haired father of three dark-skinned children
and myself, sharp-edged loner, ex-lover of a fair share of women
are belly-laughing in the dying sun. Clouds.
The crew, in timber.
Laughing
over recent visits to marvelous cities where
we could not keep ourselves from touching the terminal buds
of numerous exotic trees
and attracting ridicule of stylish girls and tame boyfriends.
Pitcherelli before the Albany bus station
shaking hands with a red pine planted thirty years ago.
Lussier, one hand in a child's hand and the other
feeling scabrous bark of urban woody plants.
Myself among partially shaved heads and leathery aromatic jackets
getting close to the hairy bud of an unidentified poplar or sycamore.
People
laughed, but we laughed best
back on our mountain
under the blackening weather.
Worrisome male pattern baldness
never recedes from forefront of mine noggin.
Though loss of hair
NOT characteristic within genes,
nor hearty chromosomes,
nevertheless, anxiety prevails,
that yours truly will witness bald pate.
Additionally his mood directly
linkedin with plethora of irrational notions,
whereby such groundless, mindless, rootless...
senseless thoughts underlie and sway moody blues
of super tramping fo fighting beastie boy.
After richly lathering and
thoroughly massaging aging scalp
constituting head property one very familiar
long haired pencil necked geek,
I subsequently rinse out shampoo
and proceed to shake out matted hair
back and forth to and fro
(think whiplash) goes sodden crown
even thee missus coon sitters me a freak.
In the mane, I seek to emulate a puff (fee) daddy,
(albeit with spindleshanks for legs),
the laughing stock of mankind,
no more muscular since being a wee little laddie.
Euphoria and joie de vivre harkened
likened to when angels sing
nsync with me, a yankee doodle dandy
IF freshly washed golden locks
fluff up like cotton candy
other disgruntlement arises
spurring yours truly to drown sorrows
courtesy one hundred proof brandy.
They say that in the Holy Land
so very far away
there really are SAMARITANS
who to this very day
at Eastertide, or round that time,
but wait, who comes our way?
Some long-haired wandering type, I'd guess
but let us listen for a jest
to what he has to say.
"My names are one and many,
to some I was Jim Crow,
GOOD AFRICAN is what you'd write
if you should choose to know."
"My name is Sean O'Hara,
your old neighbor from the Falls,
GOOD MAN, put down that rifle
before the thing recoils."
"My name is Isaac Mandelbaum.
Your face I mark it true.
It is so clear that you should write
quite plainly THE GOOD JEW."
You are an actor, do admit,
but me you'll not take in.
To change the words of Holy Writ
would be an grievous sin.
I'm sure it says SAMARITAN
in the Bible on my shelf,
but if you do not believe me, Sir,
go read the text yourself.
Plethora of humans (think overpopulation)
directly linkedin to planet Earth dire strait
re: environmental catastrophe, née debacle
teeters along brink tipping point inevitably
pitching civilization headlong into oblivion
*****sapiens (minus those living off grid)
admirably self sufficient unto themselves,
perhaps ecological intentional community
while yours truly, one guilt ridden scrivener
laments impacting minimal carbon footprint
(courtesy these thankful little feet size nine+)
nonetheless psychological torment wracks
lovely bones garden variety/generic human
specifically comprising complex edifice me
Matthew Scott Harris riven with loathsome
abomination, constipation, indignation, et al
mustered, tethered, yoked into capitalistic,
commercialistic, consumeristic ditto et alia
versus altruistic holistic, simplistic again re:
call synonymous words regarding contrast
between belching, exhausting, and polluting
(naming three adjectives describing impact
predominantly nsync with prophetic albeit,
profit oriented profligate, profane paradigm
unleashing immense global carbon emissions
see following website for further details: https:
//www.scientificamerican.com/article/co2-
emissions-will-break-another-record-in-2019/.
Impossible mission to uncouple accountability,
(no matter minuscule - veritable drop within
figurative bucket when quantity contrasted/
compared alongside industrial waste courtesy
major corporations), yet helplessness prevails
survival (mine) inextricably bound trappings
twenty first century allow, enable, and provide
exploiting even dollop so called nonrenewable
resources, I could sacrifice corporeal entity -
body, mind and spirit within eyeblink exhales
last breath before becoming repurposed - inert
cremated ashes randomly scattered across all
points encompassing terrestrial world wide web.
Obituary -
Despite havoc primate species did wreak
from the afterlife I figuratively speak
and applaud millennials whose peak
performance accorded courtesy
your token "aged hippie,"
and long haired pencil necked geek,
whose disembodied spirit
now volunteers as Halloween sideshow freak
incorporating gallows humor tongue in cheek.
Thee Apple Hove Bing an Herbivore...?
(hint – app peal)
Sans maintaining a strict carb on diet
(for Peat Sake) iz like really coal
man, cuz carnivores consume meat,
which genetically modified organisms
engender incredible non edible size foal,
these agribusiness farmed animals shot up
with synthetic hormones
spurring heightened development
accidentally, inadvertently, and unleashing
King Kong monstrous outrageous gnoll,
whereat each footfall taken
by scary creature resembling
a humanoid hyena
results in said frankenfood digging,
one after another humungous hole
resulting in dirt pile
cresting, kickstarting, and
rivaling a mini
spring mount tin knoll
necessitating massive
manhunt to cap cha
lurching, pounding, and thudding
beast whereat entire
motley crue all harkened
from places named Lowell,
nonetheless heil lee calf full
to arm themselves with more'n one
tranquilized tipped pole
anachronistic cautionary expedition generating
masterfully baiting monster
with immense gritty buttered roll,
whose gargantuan ramp
aging spree across
world wide web
found endangered population
tuff lee from their
picturesque enclave i.e. Floss
on the Mill as zee unbridled
quasi jabberwocky took a selfie gloss
silly attired (trumpeting
"FAKE" ska don face mask)
likening pulling up moss
as coiffed "hair...hm..." all the while
gabbling, instagramming,
snapchatting, and toss
sing fearsome Frankenstein
with especial bent toward
those sharing surname Voss
in tandem to flagrant
disregard to paradigm
housing hefty prime
statutes of grammatically
correct syntactical rhetoric, plus rhyme
ming showcasing a novel
discovered talent to enrich pantheon
until the end of time.
since times of auld
where linkedin note able people
(some long haired others bald)
plaintively, suddenly, and called
urgently to be importantly installed
to brainstorm figuring a solution
to vanquish, nightmarish,
and hellish abominable madness!
Samson reborn within
brand name garden variety
twentieth century *****sapien
hirsute trademark characteristic
electrified, empowered, enamored
mirrored reflection validated
substantial flowing luscious tresses
superseded body, mind, and spirit triage
prioritized as most significant
constituent essence passively
potently, pronouncedly exemplified
declaration of independence
against parental United Kingdom
first impression evoked
heavy metal musician,
this then skinny prepubescent lad
who doth sing a poor tune
easily mistaken androgynous
long haired pencil necked geek
weathered cruel barbs
harriedly styled swiftly tailored
disproportionately relegated hirsute
feature length non "FAKE"
real McCoy adorning
all important Hatfield resident
effectively far fetched
gloating prized hair him,
despite primitive diatribes
courtesy loving "mom,"
she did vociferously inveigh
vouchsafed to schtup
ample legal tender,
all to no avail
then authoritarianism tactics resorted,
I lacked chutzpah to vent anger,
plus self confidence
to vamoose voluntarily negligible,
unnecessary insufferable expletives
out the mouth of she...,
who birthed sole son
passively resistantly intractable
demure, meek, resilient...
even decades later
vicious lashings still affect me
analogous black barbs
digging deep into psyche
diminution allotted thinning hair
absent male pattern baldness...,
I surmise to attribute
senescence the culprit.