Long Preponderant Poems

Groundhog day 2024 or Forty one days since 2023 Winter Solstice

Rather than be a day late
and dollar short, I opted   
to post poem acknowledging
the second of February,
where eponymous groundhog
gets his (most often male)
foretelling...

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1. A constant smile is the alabaster
for struggle’s ornaments be made faster
average looks with a smile can be labial
its absence points to problems so filial,
may not keep the wolf away from the door
or deliver salvation...

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I’m taking control of this physical presence of mine, this breaking ship;
pulling it down forcefully to the bottom of this god forsaken sea,
allowing it to be destroyed by nature once and for all.
I’m restoring it,
piece...

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Already noticeably marked
increase in daylight
yours truly courtesy affected
qua heliotropic phenomenon
finds me noggin gently being tugged
upward and westward ho toward sun
after dark mine talking head 
rests downward and eastward.

Soon very indistinct
environmental intimations 
regarding onomatopoeic
ubiquitous murmurings,
whereby old...

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À propos preponderant passion penning poems...
posited puzzling apt aperçu...

While pondering particular
theme to address
amidst tangled wide, whirled 
webbed mental skein
today November third
two thousand twenty two,
unexpected Möbius strip
tease conundrum unforeseen,
yet as avid aspiring wordsmith
only now I became...

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Or Woman, Or Child, Or...

The following elucidated
     conjecture actually can
(reed best) be taken with a grain
     of salt, and no re ban
nah nah split 'ope ya 'ere...

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After about fifty years as married wife
the last three fraught with strife
obvious telltale signs of terminal illness rife
hysterectomy irrevocably didst jackknife
at the least severely incapacitated
think pitted, riddled,
and rounced her tortured life.

Ovarian cancer affliction
on par with...

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The Starry Night is an oil-on-canvas painting by the Dutch Post-Impressionist painter Vincent van Gogh. Painted in June 1889, it depicts the view from the east-facing window of his asylum room at Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, just before...

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Das dada = codified bonafide anachronism

me thoughts infused
with thom hankering for yesteryear
circa antebellum i.e.
American Civil War era veer
rilly, teetering, smoldering, rumbling
upon iniquitous tier

United States greenacres crossroads
with petticoat junction spear
ritually hexed courtesy anti abolitionists
pitted against unfair
slavery,...

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Temporary nirvana (albeit elusive),
nonetheless I strive to access
attaining bliss mine soul bless
exceeding exhilaration winning
(with fewest moves against

deadly opponent) bittersweet game,
where life analogous playing chess
mortality embraced hesitantly, I confess
gnarled, knotted, pitted... old fingers
wrinkled mottled flesh doth...

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The following initially crafted approximately three and a half years ago and presently brought a  much sought after surge of satisfaction while meandering along the information superhighway.

Panglossian Perspective 
Pivoting Poze Pretentiously

Pacific, pacifist pampered papa
parading...

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Pacific, pacifist pampered papa
parading par excellent paragon
parent (parenthetically parochial
particularly partisan) parvenu
passive, passionately paternalistically patient,

paunchy, peaceably pepped, perfectionist,
perceptive, perennially perky, permissively
persevering, persistently personable, perspicuous,
pertinent, phenomenally philanthropic, philharmonic

picturesquely pious, pioneering, piquantly pithy,
playfully pleasant, pleasurably plucky, plummy,
poetically poignant,...

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How would it feel having no single woe to bear,
In that sooty heart oft stung by ceaseless tear?
Wouldn't the sobs-accustomed soul court pain,
To save those melancholic rhythms in its stain?

It's abnormal for usually teary eyes...

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Visible to us from millions of kilometres  ahead
The sun spreads its light like a L.E.D

Eons ago God created this planet
Revolving around the Earth for our betterment

Rising early in the morning it brightens the world
Providing...

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Empty streets, I dreamt about them;
and a payphone - did it ring?
Could it be stranger things
repurposed in the preponderant dark?

After 2000 was the hustle and bustle
of mortar and dust; were there butterflies?
I dreamt this dream...

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delicate lace linked by crochet
labyrinthine stitches a doily a day

counted by repetitious candlelight
motherly hands of preponderant foresight

twisting and surrender of silent threads
tucking each one into intricate spreads

lovingly lace reflects persistence of face
a warm cosseted Victorian...

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