Long Pointedly Poems
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The night was rainy, hot and humid. It was the kind of night that populates steamy, black and white, noir movies where someone is murdered. The stars seemed reduced to sloshing behind moldy gray clouds, as damp and listless as seaweed in the surf.
“Let’s go see a movie,” Sophy suggested, as she brought up the Fandango website on the 70” smart TV. This quickly drew a brouhaha of excited interest.
“Ooo!, Bullet Train,” Anna said. “Elvis!” Lisa gushed.
“Where the Crawdads sing!” Sunny gasped.
“Super pets!” Leong declared, pointing - producing groans all around - THAT was a no-go.
“Maverick!” I said. “I could do that,” Sunny agreed, “he’s crazy, but I’m a Cruise fan.” she added.
In the end we decided to do a movie marathon with “Maverick” that night and “Elvis”, “Bullet Train” and “Where the Crawdads sing,” on Sunday.
As we ordered our treats at the theater concession stand, a tall, skinny, spotted, teenage boy attempted to flirt with Lisa. He smiled at her as confidently as a lizard, but sagged, like a shirt whose coat hanger was removed, when she pointedly ignored him.
Matthew's latest blank key
Impossible mission, nevertheless
I take figurative aim
to craft poem without
experiencing wrathful blame
avoiding explicitly, ignominiously, specifically...
referencing mine heterosexual counterpart
that infamous she,
whom did ruthlessly claim
yours truly as her husband
snatching mine happy
go lucky bachelorhood
two dozen plus decades ago
(revered singular status
belonging to me),
one latitudinally and longitudinally
i.e. height and weight challenged dame
during earlier years of our marriage
prone to prematurely ejaculate and exclaim
expletive laced epithets toward me
once burnt twice shy,
courtesy unidentified heartbreaker
nonetheless pledged
her troth and did coldly frame
wedded covenant predicted
on mutual (of Omaha)
perk hens pact regarding fidelity
abiding rules linkedin
with matrimonial adult game.
Henceforth any future
reasonable rhyme I crochet
with words must not mention
name of spouse lest she flay
these lovely bones
and verbally inveigh
husband hoot hook literary leeway
time gone by to broadcast blithely,
albeit electronically
which liberty not okay
the missus pointedly did relay.
No idea why personal details
(about myself) shared with zeal
(hoop fully to curry spicy reciprocity)
yours truly not exceptionally discriminatory,
when rusty cogs turn with much friction
barnacle encrusted cerebral
spongy bobbing square wheel
likened to (nails scraping
across chalkboard) -
which action evokes screeching squeal
an artifact of yesteryear school days
seen courtesy thirty five millimeter
black and white silent newsreel
portraying parochial
(baby boomer) kids
analogous to well trained dogs did heel
good luck heading toward
principal office filing lament better off
seeking devil (who wears Prada
or the latest couture) to appeal.
I take my black ink and I write in large furious letters
I AM ENRAGED
But I am not.
I AM FURIOUS! Is the next thing my independent pen throws down,
Not on lines, but in an enormously disturbed way, smothering the page.
What is going on here?
Is my muse having a medical crisis?
Pointedly calm I write
“I am wild,” in a line, on a line, in a non-savage-like way.
Shotgun poetry, Trixie writes next. These two words
Are smacking the page in a willy-nilly, topsy-mopsy way.
Other words land on the table. I see SHUT UP and she laughs at me.
Not Trixie, the word “shut up”.
An entire run-on sentence lands on the floor in front of my
Table. I AM NOT HAVING A CRISIS appears in big sharp, mean, ugly letters.
As if that is not apparent.
If I where but a flower
I would completely overpower
Passion exploding upon slow motion
Burst forth gently, inducing satisfaction
Numbing pain, exuding pleasure, irresistible
Wafting flow, perfumed, appealing to desirability
Inexorable heavenly, stimulating senses, comforting
Hypnotic colours, psychedelic, evincing on persuasiveness
Lose yourself in me, find servility, you so want to be mastered
There is only one sweet moment, give in, indulge inequities
Explore taboo feelings, ride the storm, I’ll set you free
Allow my scent to saturate, permeate, predominate
Don’t try understand, succumb, let it happen
Relax unwind, in my redolent splendour
It cannot be sinful, for nobody cares
Nature does not judge, but gives
Never forget my essence
Have I not touched
Sheer fantasy
Pointedly
If I Were A Flower Poetry Contest
Sponsored by mystic Rose Rose
01/02/2021
The first non-funeral I ever heard about was for a relative I had never wanted to claim.
She was an evil-soul, mean-spirited, a cruel paragon of human non-virtue.
When I was a child I would have rather visited the dentist,
and I probably have the worst, sorest teeth in the universe
so that is spelling it out.
She had specifically asked for no funeral, and this was decades before non-funerals were popular.
I knew why.
She had alienated the neighbors, and the relatives,
and I mean ALL the relatives, and some of us are particularly
impossible to alienate.
In lieu of a funeral, there was a reception for her.
It was attended by four people.
Her two children, one whom she had treated horribly,
a drinking buddy, who was inebriated, and possibly on something else,
and my sister who does not count as she is a ghoul about funerals,
excited to add this to her amazing I-go-to-every-funeral-in-this-town
count which at that time was in the six thousand range.
I was in town that day, sitting in a chair, pointedly not going to this non-funeral.
Personal productivity measured courtesy...
Unspecified number of hours spent
yesterday March 6th, 2021
reading (cover to cover) Pennsylvania Gazette
March/April 2021 issue.
Proud papa highly regards eldest daughter,
University of Pennsylvania alum
as academic whip smart high achiever,
she did (after quite a stretch of time
after graduating) become
self supporting earning hand over fist money
as yours truly
(her biological father) feels glum,
cuz I would qualify
mine existence as humdrum
hence quite envious at well deserved income,
which exact dollar figure I will remain mum
yet if privy being financially,
what me worry would become obsolete
mine mental would find me comfortably numb
livingsocial in splendour
versus dwelling in slum
bring (think dirt poor -
according to youngest sister)
whereby financial shortcoming exacerbates
predilection toward anxiety
with distress squarely within tum.
Back during mine salad days
earlier within mein kampf
precious time squandered away
this doubting thomas
grabbing life by figurative horns,
his outlook toward future
did excel at procrastination,
a pointedly powerful stance did delay
ambivalence toward purposefulness
hit me courtesy metaphorical
ton of bricks, now at threescore earth orbits
around the sun absorb shock
while grizzled and gray
recognizing when sober
upon post drinking up lackadaisical indifference
feigning to care not a whit,
I allude to johnny come lately self actualization
analogous to confronting judgement-day
resigned to gather wilted, shriveled, matted
rosebuds while I may
experience e'en just fleeting aliveness,
thus yours truly doth pray
to dance (why I'll) while
these spindleshanks sashay
into Elysian Fields
exorcising atrophied muscles oy vey!
I pointedly do not look at a clock
Knowing it will urge me
To go into a direction I am not eager for
The couch crooks a finger
Enticing me to sit but I have been there too much
You like to draw, a voice whispers
I pick up a pencil and draw a frenzied scene
wild woman wearing stilettos, her hair crazy loose
She is not magical enough
Where are these thoughts coming from?
I hear the sharp tick of the clock
It is amazingly annoying now
tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick
I realize that this incessant ticking
is what urged me to give this woman wild hair
What is up?
I glare at the man
annoyed more than ever
tick tick tick tick tick tick
The guy in an art museum
was causing quite a fuss.
He was walking from one old priceless
masterpiece to another
laughing and shaking his head.
People began to hiss at him,
some told him to behave himself,
a few got aggressive and cussed him out.
When he got to the Jackson Pollock exhibition
he grew silent as if musing deeply.
By now quite a crowd had gathered around him.
He turned to the small crowd
and said in a clear voice:
"You People don't see what I see."
The crowd got angry, called him a philistine,
an ignorant buffoon, a dolt!
One person asked pointedly,
if he had had any art training?
The guy smiled and replied:
"No I'm a poet"
Of course security was called,
He was ejected roughly from the art gallery.
The guy made his way home.
Later he got a stick
and began to write all the famous names
of the artists he could recall
onto a large wet patch of mud,
just their names - nothing more.
A child watched him do this
his curiosity fixed on the strange scene.
Then lastly, under the list of those famous names,
he wrote his own.
Eventually the child finally got it.
"Hey Mister," he called,
"you must be a poet!"
Both began to laugh out loud at the joke.
Unrelenting blitzkrieg deadly
assault upon psyche
pounded defenseless
vulnerable mindscape accustomed
to shelter within aproned crease
mama proffered manna, especially
when untethered meek docile lad
subjected to blistering hellfire
infamous hoodlums wantonly unleashed
verbal bombardments lobbing poison
spear tipped invisible blackened barbs
manifold times more agonizing
piercing, targeting, xraying...
guaranteed fatal skull and crossbones
unseen insignia wrought utmost damage
one hundred percent accuracy
ferociously besieging, jackknifing, pummeling...
successfully character assassinating,
a diminutive boy cursed with ideal traits
strongly tempted, delectably savored,
violently bullied (short of physical
stature violated, though seditious)
emotional violation wrought lifelong
oppressive worthlessness complimented
amply by absolute zero self confidence
distilled thru conception in utero
until parturition on a bitterly cold
January thirteenth (apparently small,
medium forces at large, sans right
buffalo wing conspiracy) instigating
ear splitting wailing testing threshold
of tolerance, no crying game, but
palpable anatomical and physiological
dislocations afflicting yours truly
with breathing difficulty courtesy
submucous cleft palate pronouncing
strong nasality, when acquiring speaking
ability more cause to ridicule upon
commencing attendance within Lower
Providence School District, where kids
said nastiest, meanest, foulest, cruelest...
unsolicited comments pointedly jabbing air
mocking severe twang plus pigeon toed gait
the latter rectified with custom made
contrivance crafted by papa that forced
little feet turned outward during sleep,
which less significant aberration became
corrected as I got older, but self shaming
and blaming assimilated thru incessant
intimidation, inundation, invitation...
passive personality tacitly allowed,
provided, and enabled entire classroom
to assail helpless looking human creature
'pon entering home burst into tears!
in lieu as payment for buzzfeed ding,
livingsocial, lodging, et cetera accommodations.
the best buy google research to locate a
handy dandy blues clues milieu, true
value venue iterated above reference
to intentional communities, yet no idea
this bumbling, fumbling, rambling,
et cetera twisted missive would find me
making mention of a logically obvious
proscribed resource. upon setting
my figurative sights regarding the end
ever explicitly, fixedly, and pointedly
to communicate how to adopt modalities
helping other people (in ways within
my capacity), the undercurrent, sans
writing this epistle, an off the beaten
track prospect found unplanned impregnated
insinuation cradling embryonic vision
visited by the secondary modus operandi.
the bespoken ambition (asper reciprocating
the consideration to pursue voluntary
employment. ideally this agreeable deal
(includes a small stipend plus room
and board). the inclusion of the latter
(tacked on as a strong consideration -
figured as welcome visualized reprieve.
hence this prosaic/ poetic add on -
at no extra charge - slightly expanded
the original intended tone of this blurb.
rather than dismiss tangential thread
mainly to air considerations divergent
incorporating alternative arrangements
to call home already moderately
lengthy soundcloud, i freely shared
a tangential welcoming pseudo string
of consciousness thread.