Long Not necessarily Poems
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OF MASTERING TODAY’S TIMES
Controversy has its place,
as to disagree does not necessarily
mean to disavow; save in the event 0f
conspiracy to subvert justice, and void the
rights to life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness:-
Today’s controversy
over power in America,
has become so conspiratorial that
it has reached the point of bastardizing
much ideology of the founding constitution
of our present-day painfully weary nation:-
To lend some sort of legitimacy to such,
those seeking overall power by whatever means,
have now convinced the judiciary to resurrect
old legal terms to legitimize unconstitutional,
fraudulent power mongering, over those
who are victims of the old axioms echoing
ignorance is no excuse for what is now law:-
Thus, is today’s controversial legacy of corruption,
granting itself a special master to declare, the law is
whatever his judiciary says it is, despite it being a ruling
seemingly of Neo Nazi thinking, or at its best, fascism
in the conservatism of today’s cold war mockery: a rendering
of a truly white house down reality of a bigoted power monger’s
evil pontificated echoes to those deemed ignorant of daily bastardized
so call laws of the rape of the constitutional womb’s political equity;
daily profusely bleeding with trumped idiotic ideology:-
A temporarily useful illusion,
like Wall Street knows something
about inevitable climate pathology
disvalues of anthrosupremacism
worth illusive core investment value
is not necessarily
a merely utilitarian delusion
about timeless principles of value
like human dignity
and organic integrity
and profoundly polycultural beauty.
A temporarily useful illusion
may have long economic
and robustly deep political roots
in universally integral allusions,
round robust reflections,
gut feelings,
intuitions of past fruition
regenerating win/wins
and not degenerating
LeftBrain Loser deductive logos
and RightBrain Loser inductive
merely threadbare mythos
Languaged thoughts about useful things,
like narrative knitted feelings
from thriving co-relationships,
derive from articulating threads
in allusive indigenous wisdom
Long felt panentheistically
and/or enthymematically
not not yet
does not quite illuminate positively present
Win/win round cosmic
holonic, organic, systemic
rememory of Yangfull Trust
loves Yintegral Beauty
Usefully refines,
illustrates
polyculturally win/win
healthy democracy's peak wealth illusion,
valleyed allusive delusion
in-between implicit wisdom
and explicit knowledge,
empowerment
and enlightenment
Circling
spiraling whole open
systemic energy
non-zero summoned
cooperative illusive experiences
non-zero summed
energy systemic
open whole spiraling
encircling dismembered delusions.
Eyes compete to compensate beauty,
Beyond pleasure of reasonable duty.
Money competes to compensate value,
Before time sets another price anew...
Pen competes to compensate book...
Above muse running minds unhook.
Eraser competes to compensate error,
Against stake of consequence's terror.
Mind competes to compensate brain,
Holding unto wisdom for huge gain.
Thinking competes to compensate judgement,
Having checked through for proper assessment.
Voice competes to compensate ears,
To be calm of sweet words foaming cheers!
Tongue competes to compensate understanding,
Towards convincing points so outstanding.
Seat competes to compensate buttocks,
Cum comfort not necessarily quite deluxe.
Bed competes to compensate spinal cord,
Care sets free unlike one in the hospital's ward.
Women compete to compensate survival,
Vigilant enough of approaching rival.
Men compete to compensate growth,
Virtually for both also marriage's oath.
Competition drives value-
To compensate focus guide
And fight forces turning tide,
Against what desires pursue...
Valentine's Day 2021
Yours truly not necessarily
romantic fellow at heart
more accurately methinks myself
lame and inadequate sorry excuse
for reasonably rhyming spouse,
but courtesy after sipping
(née - chugging away
like snorting caboose)
Welch's sparkling white grape juice
maybe accompanied with entree couscous
generic and garden variety
run of the mill by the floss husband
ordinarily fancy free and footloose
feigned being inebriated
noisily squawking - imitating
deafening honking lunging goose
creating ruckus whereby resultant outcome
whereby wife playfully threatened me
to hang me (all choking aside) with noose,
(I needed to gibbet a chance)
as ye can accurately dead deuce
nearly turning unnatural shade of chartreuse,
thus I immediately called truce
after hiring team of animated experts
Rocky the squirrel
and Bullwinkle the moose.
Once upon a time I
bouncing up and down
analogous to yoyo
rode proud on his high horse whoa
considered himself, albeit kiddingly
as pure as the driven though
fell prey to basic proto
human barking animal propensity
desire under the Elm you know
all to well that biological urge
goading species to reproduce
when consummated minus
utilization of prophylactics
to aid and abet begetting embryo
unborn or unhatched offspring
in process of development,
particularly human offspring during
period from approximately
second to eighth week after fertilization
(subsequently termed a fetus).
Back in the day
gathering rosebuds while I may
thy pure motive to lay
me down with barenaked lady
futile (yet Prince Valiant) attempt
to placate seething hormonal secretion
surging testosterone seemingly went away
(I strongly suspect absent libinal longing
courtesy side effect half dozen medications)
bodes ill with spouse
marriage doth severely fray.
My cousin Anettejay uses at least one huge vocabulary word when we meet for breakfast. I think she is trying to impress me, and impress me she does.
“I think that was apprehensible,” she said to me today as we ate our pancakes.
Anettejay was referring to a mass murderer’s mode of operandi. “Don’t you?”
“Not necessarily,” I answered.
She looked horrified. “You do not think it was apprehensible?” she demanded.
“Not in my world,” I told her.
Knowing I would die before I gave up the word, reprehensible, I picked up my coffee cup and took a big swig.
Anettejay has another weird habit. She does not let something go until she thinks you have agreed with her; it is all about the win. She became distressed, and quite loud now. People were staring at us. The waitress came over and gave her two warnings to quiet down.
“Can you believe they are going to execute me out?” she asked me.
No, frankly, I could not, and I could not stop smiling either.
These are photographs of my village
Taken over a hundred years ago
The streets look just the same
As those I used to know
When Fifty or more years later
That village was my family home
And i wandered them as a child
With streets and fields to roam.
They show a part of my family
Each stood by their front door
On the little row of cottages
That isn’t there any more.
Condemned, demolished, erased,
New dwelling replacing the old
Some not yet quite finished
But each one already sold.
Large, desirable modern residences
Where once workers’ homes had stood
The village of my childhood changed
But not necessarily for the good.
None of those posing for photographers
Could afford to live here these days
Once working village dormitories now
As they have adjusted to modern ways.
One farm worker can do the work of ten
So you don’t need the labourer in the field
And modern mobility means most villages
Are full of commuters or the retired well heeled.
The orchards, allotments, garden meadows
That lined nearly every road and street
Have identikit brick dwellings built on
Grass destroying foundation concrete .
Sometimes, unrecognised, i visit my past
Still enough unchanged to make it hard
To accept these days my family presence
Is restricted to graves in the old churchyard.
Maybe it’s my imagination at work
But it seems to me a peculiar thing
As i wander those known streets again
I no longer hear so many birds sing.
My non-communication
and dissonant
dysfunctional miscommunication,
and occasionally aggressive
challenging win/lose dogmatic
refusal to bother with communication,
These all degeneratively punish
and unpleasantly neglect
open systemic civility
With marginalizing effects
further reinforcing
disempowered
and unenlightened
trauma-avoiding behaviors
Toxic for those most wounded
and disabled
by LeftBrain dominant
monotheistic divine omnipotence
v hedonistic human non-verbal
non-violent impotence
A non-communion corporate spirit
of LeftBrain individual is supreme
divisive worldview
harboring "gifted" classrooms
and partisan parties
and elitist societies
for StraightWhite
anthro-hierarchical evolutionary power
to suppress RightBrain
healthy multicultural Trust
wealthy with indigenous
natural/spiritual Beauty.
Resonant resilient communication
strings of thriving v merely surviving
history may invite a long operatic organic epic
but does not necessarily suppress communion
of non-verbal healthy-wealth intuitions,
does not repress
felt polysensory-neural healthcare
community
Passionate gratitude
positive attitude
inspired by sacred place
of generous natural Trust
meets secular incorporated time
to co-invest in ubiquitous spiritual Beauty
Communicating mindful thanks
humble joy
reminds me
my "disability" labels
lie uncomfortably close
to dis-enabling resonant integrity's
deepest sacred potential,
resilient love communication
in multicultural experiences
of abundant
serene win/win
resonant communion
Wide passions
of co-empathic gratitude
for each day of Truth thought
is also Beauty felt
growing in multi-sensory resonance
neuro-systemic health-is-rich-wealth
polyculturing resilient communications
Prevailing over non-communication
and dissonant
disempowering miscommunication,
and occasionally aggressive
challenging oppositionally defiant
unenlightened refusal to bother
communicating sacred
space expanding
compassionate co-passions.
Vocabulist nonalcoholic punchdrunk stupor January 1st, 2020
Unlike the vast population swath,
with painful hangover
average celebrant merely
doth confusedly blink,
who devoutly pledge
new year resolution
to give up drink
immediately fall off wagon
as he/she eagerly downs
shot after fermented shot
while forearms link
with family, friends,
strangers, et cetera
and immediately rethink
alcoholics anonymous pledge
gamely nod and playful wink.
Yours truly (me) never found
wasted, soused, besotted,
et cetera alone
and/or with round
of best buddies real,
and/or imaginary
nor got stone drunk crowned,
(cuz never did I make
friends - no lie),
plus never felt compunction
to quaff hard inebriant
(think booze hound)
life as extremely gawky introvert
(think long haired
pencil necked geek)
preferred company of books
with cute button nose bound
between pages, this theme
I could expound
till cows come home to roost
after bovines well rested
from their sound
sleep unready and unwilling
to confront battleground
(think slaughterhouse five),
thus beef rendered me, we clowned
and hoofed up memories
promising each other pound
for pound, we would stand our ground
never freeload, mooch, sponge...
nor EVER succumb to the bottle
no matter how hardbound,
especially when attaining rough-age
older not necessarily wiser
if necessary resorting and astound
ding farmer in the dell
to Diet of Worms smellbound
while reenacting Holy
Roman Empire called
back in the hay day -1521
courtesy Emperor Charles V
offering sobering admission
lips ne'er taste amber and/or clear
liquids of the gods, no matter
believe me you reader hopefully
aforesaid confession doth not dumbfound.
I made some mistakes, let my head get straight to jealousy
One thing I could never get over was that instinctive tendency
I was the easel to your painting, the necessity but not necessarily
You leaned against my support, just to fold me up and discard, victim of your dissection
Strokes fulfilling your streaks of confidence, unfinished to perfection
The easel of your time until my predecease
Paintings can’t revert
Easels are reusable
I’ll support a new masterpiece
The nails and screws holding me together are withering
Unable to decide between beauty and grace, cyclically dithering
I don’t want to make the same mistakes
Gambling my love for you in sweepstakes
Yours truly never heard, seen, no lies
particularly when alone
facing my (pushing up daisies) demise,
without pretense nor guise,
he honestly decries
smelled, tasted, nor touched, any size,
and essentially knew nothing besides
ancient fruit grown in Japan
for past 1,000 years as Earth flies
thru space, now more about loquats,
plethora of details to exercise
memory bank, though
this poetaster still tries
to appear learned, no matter
me no expert, I reckon eyes
aforementioned small yellow size
egg-shaped acidic fruit
great breakfast, lunch,
or dinner sup prize
for dessert never knew the evergreen
eastern Asian tree of rose family,
in Thorndale residents
at somber occasions,
or holidays edibly feast
as modus operandi to eulogize.
If ever opportunity
finds agriculturally cocksure
and propensity doth arise to venture
to savor succulent juice of Loquat,
savoir faire mine mean
mien to one epicure
this wordsmith, whatever
his wordsworth as whitman,
he will need to remove lower denture
minor inconvenient truth (er tooth),
where jaws comprise juncture
and/or chop delectable treats
into byte size morsels.
Perhaps before I lay
me down to sleep
forever and a day
launched into death
be not proud, aye
will strive to appease
culinary yen oy vey
searching high and
low unexpectedly axed
about diddly squat (a spot,
pimple, or sty) seated
please and lemme
introduce myself, cuz
thar thou looking
for specific monsignor okay
thy my quest, I wilt thus assay
to indulge me secrete,
and rejoice hip... hip... hooray
if thee will allow any which way,
yours truly to supplicate,
perhaps magic discovery
after I pay obeisance and pray
to Mother Nature
my hunger, she will allay.
If ambition to satiate loquat all naught
please scatter cremated ashes,
upon bed of loquat sought
but ne'er found,
cuz earnestness to secure
coveted desire fraught,
not necessarily in vain if I got
repurposed to commingle,
viz this pauper devoid of haute
cuz thrift stores find me
where clothes get bought.