Long Nook Poems
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this middle aged rue stirring bummer
haint no stranger to cold,
when dark hen stormy wintry days
eggs hit from Arctic portal en fold
ding Atlantic Seaboard
in a blizzard of bitterly, blindingly, and
brutally sub zero temperatures
from an occasional nor'easter
fiercely gripping hold
the majority years, sans this prolific
recalcitrant scrivener lived
in various and sundry abode
housed within Southeastern
Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
with 19*** zip code,
and during my boyhood recall,
how massive ice sheets did erode
the (then) opened expansive farmland,
in preparation for planting time,
where runnels of frigid water flowed
with childish cheeks exposed to glowed
after hours upon
many a green acre got tilled and hoed
despite feeling energized and refreshed
with arms and legs n'er fro zen
aye didst eagerly await with exuberant yen
kickstarting thy body electric
experiencing hearthstone nook
designed and built by Christopher Wren
after heading indoors counting fingers
and toes to make sure, i still got ten
soon hearing the chorus of fauna,
and floral kaleidoscope of color
aground or taking wing
thus, upon thawing out thoughts
drifted toward approaching spring,
the season revitalizing
dormant natural inhabitants,
whose excite (like mine) didst ping
announcing the debut of fecundity
nsync with screeching from the lizard king.
This Spring Equinox (i.e. man date:
12:15 PM Tuesday,
March twentieth two thousand eighteen)
doth rejuvenate
inviolable hibernating animals
and plants, and me equate
to experience sensation,
whereby entire being does inflate
and (despite marital status),
nonetheless envisions another gal asthma mate
no...no...no...please do not think this chap
mean spirited and under rate
the woman (at present taking a siesta,
and i breathe easy),
who oft times doth henpeck, a trait
inherited many a chic hen
(with tantalizing tail feathers)
now (until she awakens)
proscribing yours truly to wait
for my repast most likely ad hoc
moist ideal for any nerdy kid to knock
senseless, the worst facet of self important jock
consisting of pop slop mock
Hungarian Goulash, a melange
of relics from age old meals
transformed into a petrified sawed little rock.
Gonifs and gossips revisited
since originally being crafted
approximately half dozen
dirty deeds done dirt cheap years ago...
Abound and lurk
within every nook and cranny
analogous to some annoying pest
harmless though one reside here,
when off his meds goes berserk
here at Highland Manor Apartments.
They snatch and snitch packages -
meant for other than themselves -
think Grinch who stole Christmas
plus snoop, i.e. eavesdrop
big Dumbo ears as listening devices
(batteries not required)
or serve as rumor mongers
to don self importance
and trumpet "FAKE NEWS."
We (yours truly and his misses)
dwelled at aforementioned residence
July first 2025 will be eight years,
and no sooner did both of us set foot
on premises than hearsay
immediately promulgated
(metaphorically swirled about our heads),
and passed like greased lightning
thru the robust grapevine
purportedly wife of mine
brought in live snakes.
Oddly and interestingly enough though,
I never actually never heard nor saw
a fellow resident
talk (or whisper in hushed tones)
about me outright.
Rather than badmouth other feisty folks,
which leaves unpleasant virtual
aftertaste described as phooey zook,
thus comeuppance to reprobate recipients
I activate viz cluck
king silly reasonable rhyme,
(so keeps head up
for urbane adverse city slicker
you better watch out
(...better not shout...) just duck
and run for cover cuz poet took
effluvia enroute spouted by word huck
stir, he avoids naming
(chatterboxes whose lives
so devoid of meaning,
they figuratively kickstart tittle-tattle),
who vocally ramp up
some juicy tidbit with any luck
taking page from former president playbook
letting their lips uncontrollably run a-muck
totally oblivious to credibility factor being a schmuck
buzzfeed initial kernel of truth and truck
outrageous zingers suitable for National Enquirer,
tragicomical, cuz mistruths
courtesy tenants exhibit chutzpah to pluck
farfetched outright lies and innuendos
rolling of tongues of then occupants such as:
"Bible Thumper/Holy Roller,"
"Bingo/ Phat Cathy,""Crooked Old Man,"
"Curvy Girl/Thunder Thighs," "Frumpty Dumpty
"Mush/Smash Mouth, "Snaggletooth,"
"The Bodyguard," "The Fossil," "The Schvartze,"
"Winkle," and last but not leased "Zha Zha”.
Give me fruit flies, mice
and/or roaches any day,
or give me death!
Suicidal Ideation March 30th, 2022 linkedin...
to mein kampf insync with mine body dysmorphia
After reading articles
published within April 4/11 2022
of The Nation
I challenged the efficacy
taking prescription medication
categorized as SSRIs
and/or SNRIs.
Unpleasant side effects
such as earth shaking dreams
and/or especially hefty weight gain
linkedin with former
comprising my daily cocktail
of approved prescription medication
courtesy nurse practitioner.
Deliberation about courting death rooted
throughout mine psyche
fueling sinister chortle
at least since bout with anorexia nervosa,
but... maybe ginned blood,
sans umbilical cord transfused in utero aortal,
though long since recovered, the intractable,
haunting specter, sans grim reaper
intertwining within every fiber of this mortal
rooted, grounded deep, and branched out
into each nook and cranny portal.
Said notion provoked,
when made painfully aware
youngest daughter (aged twenty three)
plagued with similar thoughts,
damn genetics did maliciously engineer
clutching telephone while
seated at edge of chair
did apologetically, despairingly,
grievously... did air
pestilential, penitential, plenipotential... scare
re: distraction and understandable fear,
she might unwittingly plunge
into hopeless abysmal despair
falling prey into irrevocable
deathly hallows lair,
though kudos for her
from me, this sole Harris heir
to communicate, (albeit
hesitantly) into mine ear
suddenly wishing thy
Shayna Punim to be near,
but residing (about three hour drive
southeast of Portland, Oregon)
with my kid sister, attentive to welfare,
a sibling whose persona
doth show tender loving care
and concern, this papa
felt reassured there
would be every action taken
with sixth sense to beware
lest progeny exhibits
pointedly obvious lurching career
dramatic slide in tandem
with Old Rotten Gotham
into behavioral sink
emergency measures sibling
immediately would commandeer,
hence somewhat relieved thee dear
beloved progeny receptive to hear,
this dada expressed his unconditional love,
and grateful psychological intervention
offspring boldly did declare
indicative professional help volunteer
really asserted necessary to stave off
how dice throw of fate unfair
to said lass, whose demise,
would abruptly kill this sonneteer!
~ Precious-tears-offered in-faith ... fall, God-catches them places
them, within His Souls heavenly-amphora, and with a sway of His Mighty Hand,
plucks-up His eminent-Knowledge-honed by Holy Quill. ~
~ Upright ... and looking strait into His vision for us of the new day. Offers
the many consummate opportunities riding high on the fringe of His
promise, granted in welcome. Painting a Holy Journey, evolving amid
a certain solace and freedom. Moving on into veracious days with Him
lasting on forever. Exiting beyond higher lofts of earthly sky's and rolling
lands advancing in humble reverence descending down from the openness
of the Heavens. Rewriting yet again; another-story in person for each individual.
Yes for all life; far-greater and-even-greater still ... than the others gone before. ~
~ Carrying within it ... the treasures revealed of Him strewn about found soaring
aloft the reality of Him granted and awakened devout of their surrender. Whispering,
of the latter days grateful of the many gone by. ~
~ As tender kisses resinating from-His heart of-mercy, grace-the folds-
every-nook-and-cranny-of the-lands. The-fullness-of His-consciousness-
the very-presence-of His-greater-hope ... has-placed-its-sweetness-rising-up-
in its-essence. Within-lowly-laying-effervescent; droplets-glistening-in the-
light, of His-joyous-rejoinder. Given for all; in love. Carried-in the-honest-
taste-the-freshness; of the precious morning-dew, and-in her-innocence;
truth; e'er-aware; and-seeing this-and being-fond of-His-presence thriving-within-
the-relative-ease and-dancing amid-the peace, emanating-from the-perfect-fruition-
of His-love. ~
~ Moves-to-cherish too, the-pureness ...
of-the-union ... ~
~ While rising, in-a blaze-of His-Glory; from the ashes of the past. A
new-day budding in the-wake of-its-freedom. Amid royal fields-growing-
still-fragrant more brilliant elaborate; of lavender. Has felt the-pleasure
of-His passion too, and-given the true-warmth and goodness-He has-always
been-open to provide. ~
~ Pausing-amid this beauty seen still rising in-spite-of-this out-of-the-ashes-
of-the-hate of the days of our past.
His-love remains, abides-for-us.
Why not-we-too all-move, to-look-to-cherish this like the-innocent; in their
freedom are-always striving ... to-do? ~
I heard someone say never make the same mistake twice
They were referring to love
So I started to relate, my mind started to penetrate
The reasons why the heart had grown cold
Like a movie, the plot started to unfold
And I saw myself.
I mean, really viewed myself and became third person
Why not first?
Because it was too painful to tell my own story
So I became she
A woman who forced her own misery by believing she could control her own
destiny
Heart pacing with every sound, she declared to understand her emotions
Chose a man who did not reciprocate devotion
Lacked respect so didn’t think she needed none
Who needed love, he thought, when life was all about fun
She tried to reconstruct her appearance for him
So I nicknamed her Vanity
But nothing would ever suffice, causing her to somehow lose her sanity
A perfect love.
Dreams of starry nights and kisses on the forehead
Curled up under the nook of his arm on top of his bed
Sharing secrets and penetrating hidden walls
Making love until the roosters made their morning calls
Vanity wanted to live in a movie,
She wanted the fame and the beauty
She visioned scenes of her admirer answering her every beck and call
But pieces of the movie started to crumble and fall
So she settled.
Vanity didn’t even have faith in Prince Charming anymore
Those kind of men didn’t exist…the type that open doors
She led a dead end journey to a man who’s heart she would never own
With every kiss from him, she still knew she wasn’t alone
He became her best friend, and a passionate lover
But every night he still committed to another
At times things felt just right, but never good enough
She knew her mother raised a young lady better than this
And her decisions were tough
Vanity cried the day he told her he loved her
She cried because that was the day the affair ended
They were both in love but he wouldn’t leave HER
She could barely stomach to see herself in the mirror, everything was a blur
Vanity wanted to hate him, “What an awful man”
She would try to instill in her mind
But her heart didn’t believe it, he just wasn’t the right kind
The kind you would hate.
So instead, she hated herself for giving up on love
For trying to borrow someone else’s love
Vanity had lost the biggest fight of her life and the truth was
Vanity…didn’t even know what love was anymore.
The first time I met Madame La Laurie, was in 1832 When she and her third husband (Dr. Louis La Laurie) purchased me. My first impression of Madame La Laurie was that she was soft spoken, of fine breeding, and very beautiful.
Upon her arrival, she wasted no time filling every nook and cranny at 1140 Royal Street with the finest furniture and china that money could buy. No one looking at the plain exterior of this house, would ever expect such opulence within it walls.
She wore the latest fashions from Paris with a flare beyond rival, even by the most inducted social lights of the hour, which did not go unnoticed. Both men and women, would stop in their tracks to gaze upon this regal beauty as she strolled down the main streets of New Orleans.
Soon, with the aide of her husbands connections through his practise, she, gained acceptance into the higher circles of the community and began hosting what would become, the most sought after dinner invitations in all of New Orleans.
This was the one side of Madame La Laurie that the world saw, but it was I, who bore witness to the other side. NEVER could anyone have ever imagined the atrocities this women committed in her chamber of horrors on the 3rd floor as she maimed, tortured and murdered any slave that displeased her.
~~~
I was burned badly, when one slave, wanting to end his misery, set a fire in the kitchen, finally bringing her reign of terror to and end, where upon she fled in her hell driven carriage, into the night, never to be seen again.
Today, I stand here at 1140 Royal street, completely unrecognizable. I have a different face now. The only thing left one would recognize from that day, would be the old path that runs between me and the adjacent house.
Lush green foliage now grows along its edge, in what I like to think, a remembrance to the tortured souls who died here.
Between these brick walls
Bright light filters from above
Old seeds bloom again
BUT...IF YOU DARE to walk between these walls, you...like me, THAT OLD HOUSE IN NEW ORLEANS, might see the apparitions of the tortured souls still residing there.
~~~
Poetry form: Haibun
For the contest, A House In New Orleans, sponsor, Lin Lane
PLACED SECOND
...She had a surprised look when he knocked on the door,
had trouble meeting his eyes, and glanced at the floor.
Jack too was nervous, had trouble speaking his minds,
stammered and said,”Hello Kay…it’s been a long time.”
She asked if he’d like to come in, and he said yes,
he walked to the living room with a pounding chest.
She made them both some coffee and he started to say,
“I know it seems kind of weird, me showing up this way,
but of late I’ve been looking at what I have got,
and I know, from the outside, it seems quite a lot,
but I don’t think I’ve been happy since I left your side,
so I guess I’m asking if you’d give us a try…”
Kat met his eyes with a sad and piteous look,
said,”Can you see the picture right there, by the nook?
I’ve already a husband, and sweet children two,
so I’m sorry, But I will have to disappoint you.”
Jack did see the small picture, and he forced a grim,
it’s not like the chance of this hadn’t occurred to him.
So he gained his feet sadly, saying that he would go,
Kay said,”Please, wait. There’ something that you should know…”
He paused for a moment, saw the pictures of the kids,
could one of those small children possibly be his?
It was then that Kay spoke, and her face looked fright,
“I thought you should know the truth, about that last night…
“You are still holding a torch, that much is clear to me,
but you should know that, even them, we never could be.
You wanted to part, to tour and win great fame,
but you never once asked if I wanted the same,
and in truth, even then, I thought of a settled life,
or children and my own home, of being a wife.
“I thought it would be easier, avoid a hard scene,
if I acted like I didn’t want to kill you dream.
Cowardly of me, but we were so young back then,
and I hadn’t yet figured what I sought in men.
But now I want to be honest, we couldn’t last lone,
and I hope all this will help you try to move on.”
Jack just stood there stunned, his whole psyche now in doubt,
he said nothing, just felt numb, as he made his way out.
Driving to the airport he felt a deep despair,
the one woman he loved…whose heart was never there!
The one thing he’d known, this ‘one truth’ that he had claimed,
had not been returned, just a mirage of his brain…
CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
Tears fall from a round cherub face
Who feels her life is a big disgrace
Who feels she is just a charity case
Who takes up way too much space
Who knocked over the hand painted vase
From Italy
Because she thought she was too obese
An ugly savage beast
And wanted her life to cease
Because people liked to tease
About her wanting the last piece
Of pizza
So she decided right there and then
No more crash diets or Phen-Fen
No more envying her friends
No more rejections from men
No more carrot sticks again
She's starving
Because she hates the way she looks
And having to buy all those books
Those diet gurus are crooks
Playing on her emotions is the hook
That reeled her in from her little nook
She's miserable
All 125 pounds of her was crying out
For a way to escape right out
From dejection and self doubt
She just wanted to scream and shout
She saw only one solution as a route
Plastic surgery
Because it was the only way
To want to live another day
Without having to hope and pray
That she would not become afraid
And slit her wrists with a razor blade
Psychotherapy
So a doctor she took herself to
And guess what that quack wanted to do
Rhinoplasty her nose into
One like little Cindy Lou Who
Said he’d make it like brand new
She bought it
Because her nose was to be done
Next was her chin—it looked like a Cinnabon
No wonder she was being shunned
He said he’d spare her the dejection
and give her a neck like an elegant swan
She believed it
Next was her breasts—they needed a lift
The size does matter if you catch my drift
Your popularity will benefit
From putting some silicone in your tit
Its quite exciting, you’ll have to admit
She oohed
Because her abs and butt were a terrible blight
To leave them like that it would not look right
They needed to look taut and tight
What a plight!
Liposuction would be a wonderful sight
She aahed
Surgery was schedule for tomorrow at dawn
She didn’t see how she could do any wrong
She went shopping and bought a new thong
Her depression was gone
She felt twice as strong
Is she delusional?
The surgery happened right on time
Where’s the police-isn’t this a crime
This girl looks absolutely fine
What is flawed is just her mind
Society has not been kind
Is she to blame?
Wow, it happened at a moment when I was most lonely
I walked all alone in the woods, feeling so sorry
Sorry to see around me, so much of blindness
So much of desire for the unnecessary
When, oh how lovely
I felt like I had been blessed
A pouch it was, a pouch of magic beans
Glistening, glowing, sparkling in the dark woods
Was I dreaming, did I wonder
Could it surely be true, that which I see now
Magic beans?
Of what use would they be anyhow
Surely the story of Jack and the giants could not be true
Why would anyone fall for this kind of joke
But I did take the beans home
Slept and dreamed of the other kingdom
While all that time, my dog fooled around
So much that a few beans fell on the ground
Rolled out of the house
And got buried deep in the soil
The next morning, I did see a gigantic tree
One just like in the magical story
Wasted I not one second
I climbed up, eager to see what does lie beyond
I climbed for ages, my arms got worn out
Tired, ready to let go, I did put on a pout
Thirsty, hungry, I thought I would die
Lamenting at my own fate, I started to cry
When at that moment, came to my aid
Caring and loving robots
They put me in their vehicle
And took me up, there, in the world worthy of being a miracle
Would you believe it,
I was given such a treat
I was pampered
Fed and my body repaired
A lovely world it was, filled with clean air
No smoke, no pollution, no death
Robots lived on, being their own masters
Robots who cared not to conquer our world
A peaceful world, with no work required
Life consisted of rest, play and food
Life there was I had always desired
Life there was so good
Flowers filled up every nook and crook
Clear rivers flowed by
Robots did show me how to have fun
It was a world I did fall in love with
I was brought to the King of them all
He did ask me to stay in his world
A guest I was, a most loving one
I was to be well entertained
His offer I did accept
The magical tree I did break
With some cuts here and there
As better it is to breathe in fresh air
The world known as Earth I soon forgot
I lived on, till came my end
My soul was taken and put in a robot
And I lived there, forever and ever!
Anoucheka Gangabissoon
7th January 2015
The more popular path is a wider,
more windy one. A bend here,a
nook there, surreal images to entice
everyone.And it's all about havin' so much fun.
You weave through a forest of barren trees,
having already dropped all of their leaves.
More muted colors now, these listless leaves,
as they lay scattered all over the ground.
During one stretch, a beautiful babbling
brook calls softly to all who will listen,
a temptuous melodic chant seems to resound.
"Come play in me..... no, better yet, stay in me.
I am yours and you are mine. At the very least,
abide for a time."......is it's echoing rhyme.
Around one huge curve on this path, one can't
help but notice an extremely tall waterfall.It's
splendor captures the undivided attention of
nearly all. Chrystal clear liquid cascades,
tumbling and rumbling downward over smooth,
cavernous rocks till its final resting place in a
glassy pool,this entire realm it does mock.
One very unique trait of this seemingly joyous
journey is the absence of light. Nothing reflects
much sun,it's almost like wandering along on a
half - moon lit night. Oh,if the star of fire would
ever reveal itself,come out of hiding, this beautiful
bounty could be so brilliant and bright. Yet here
in this place, it wouldn't seem right. It would cause
alarm, reason for many to get stagefright. Some
might even want to exit but would not be able....
try as they might.
I could ramble on and on about the abundant
sights and smells and sounds that tickle our
senses along Path Pleasing. Is this place
for real or is everyone just dreaming? But one
thing I must tell you that is important for you to
know.This expedition isn't all it's cracked up to be,
for it is in dizzying circles you do go.You just experience
the same things over and over again, guess that's part
of the plan.No real purpose or rhyme, just biding time.
Oh,.... what's this? Maybe I am wrong. Seems that
there is a final destination for those hangin' here.I've
not witnessed this before.I'll have to tell the others
what's in store.But wait....... there must be some mistake.
For the sign over the gaping, belching, black hole
simply states "Lair of the Snake."