Long Quandary Poems
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Inexplicable blessing luckily
avoiding potentially grim fate
finds yours truly coming to grips,
how afterlife did not accommodate
the missus, and/or myself unwittingly
loved ones would never acclimate
reality of our permanent absence,
thus existence all the more I appreciate
and attempt poetically articulate.
Herewith the scenario that defies
conventional atheistic wisdom
finding me unable to square
involving 2009 Hyundai Sonata automobile
driven by spouse or her scribe, who dare
not allude to guardian angel,
yet conundrum inexplicable, when
touted as luck, regarding the rear
wheel bearing (passenger side of car)
that went kaput, blessedly ignorance
attributed absented scare,
yet in retrospect taking stock
i.e. how existence imperilled,
now more grateful than ever
toward life, liberty and
pursuit of happiness,
this in essence potential whipped miracle
of sorts presenting possibility
cosmic creative force continually near.
CJ'S TIRE & AUTOMOTIVE,
(1405 South Township Line Road,
Royersford, Pennsylvania 19468)
intuition doth agree
expert knowledgeable SERVICE
familiar personnel employee
since patronizing said facility
(actually franchise sites
scattered across United States), we
regularly return taking car repeatedly
to team of mainly younger,
but wiser technicians than me,
who realizes scant knowledge, née
absolute zero mechanical ability,
especially regarding
twenty first century vehicles
heavily accoutered
with sophisticated technology.
Now yours truly loops
back to (house at Pooh corner -
think Loggins and Messina)
i.e. core theme
Impossible explanation within
the infinite universe scheme
to explain convincingly fluke
protection against meme
evoking death, demise, destruction,
et cetera regarding as ye gleam
teetotaler who avoids Jim Beam
plus alcohol in general, cuz
prescription medication harmful
unless feeling suicidal to thee extreme.
Thus one garden variety, generic guy
NON GMO android (ha)
he doth not fear
the grim reaper at rapier
or gunpoint, nor mortality do I despair
hoop fully made somewhat crystal clear,
a quandary (one among many
that recurred), whereby air
ring professed nihilistically
skeptical minus impulse to destroy
comprises whether doubting Thomas
(English Muffins) stance
on wing and prayer
inadequate, obsolete, untenable...
Accursed human species
case in point Vladimir Putin,
who strikes terror across globe.
Don't underestimate his hell bent
zeal to attack United States,
one blood sucking infernal
predacious *****sapien
mercilessly bullies, interrogates,
threatens... with zeal.
Considerably less mortifying
constitutes wrathful ordeals
exhibited by adults who treat
thine wife with indecorous jibes
like punks who sat back of bus
or classmates at Methacton
High School, mine alma mater.
No different than typical mean kids
many crotchety residents here
Highland Manor Apartments
majority residents aggrieve the missus
though said counterpart (thee spouse)
exudes standoffish poise
countenance dons and
nonverbally trumpets scowl
body language broadcasts
social graces be damned
easily interpreted as snub
engendering hostile imprecations
cruelly fiendish provocations
undermine capacity to experience
peace of mind
exacerbated by her
figurative cold shoulder
propensity to flip the bird
notched, ratcheted, torqued... tension
courtesy miss prissy heiress,
daughter, she secured management role
albeit (hats off) to nepotism
guarantees lifelong job security
issued thee missus warning
rental stipulation disallows
overt middle finger flashing signal
emotional entanglement ensued
yours truly tasked
to pursue more favorable environment,
yet scant finances (mine)
and poor credit
two strikes against
locating affordable living situation
since sole family income
social security disability
direct deposited monthly
buzzfeeding checking account
regularly near anorexic,
cuz additionally I pay
costs of living expenses
cole king avoiding being homeless,
thus this penniless
among dime a dozen
day late dollar short
low income bracketed
(marching with madness)
mister casts quandary
couched as poetry,
no great expectations,
nonetheless cathartic to communicate
(hoop fully understandable)
present tense plight
projected as plotted trend
fat and/or slim chance
fate will curse me as lottery winner
pipe dream teasing
this word plumber flush with ire,
who feels nsync and drained
scraping hand to mouth
bemoaning apathy, dismal
effort, gross indifference
toward self sums (mein kampf)
plus academic struggles
proffers grim forecast
as coxswain at mercy
rudderless ship of state
edges closer to his waterloo.
*Image of Paradox of a Mindfoolness.
Irreconcilable Paradox
The midnight sun casts about clear shadows amidst a
twilight noon, 'tis yesterday.
The windy gale brews, astir none to wake the quietude,
America's Guy Fawkes Day.
Watched I the beautiful orange sunset rise up above the
rolling hills flat opened field.
Leaving my umbrella sorted at home, danced I out into
the deluged rain spots yield.
Ambling I briskly stood alone in a crowd, as a quandary
cleared ere me from behind.
Menacing maintaining all matters determined found I at
a total loss to ideas sublime.
Brooding of the things I yet can do yesterday, I hurried
along to finalize nothing else.
In my rush to the airport, boards I, a train that went the
other way past fields of elms.
My new schedule should get me to my appointment in
the nick of time, one day late.
Know I will get that new job for 'tis the first time work I
there as of prior' year to date.
Been unemployed for straight five years, works I out and
in exclusively hands-on daily.
My legs are stronger as a direct cause of that makes me
feel sick for I am e'er healthy.
Speaking on health, the car insurance is fully paid but
wonders I, much is still owed.
On the subject of owing, our daughter's graduation day is
today, four candles a-glowed.
The court speaking, arrangement rose criminal charges
the prosecution, never violets.
Friends and I went to a drive-in, saw an old film just cast,
our Model-T's all on autopilots.
In the end, we all walked out as unconditional strangers,
familiarities sensed a oneness.
E.g.; If hail treasures of an emptied chest wouldst naught
crusheth e'er emphatic dream.
Thence bandied wordings lay straightforwardly ere wee
tilt scale rove archaic extreme.
The farcical tale wove abstractly, yet absolutes resolved
parodies sage distinctiveness.
2022 February 15
*1st Place*
This or That, Vol 10
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2022 March 02
*NOTE: I've portrayed the extremities of paradoxes distinctive values as self-defining based on its own merits, my placement via its close proximity to its opposite, validifies that point, whereto, abstracts become absolutes distinguishing their individualism.
Chorus x 2
It’s okay if my ego wears jacket
it’s nice if my resume plays drums
I’m endowed, dazzling and full
so let the world know my hands are a major part
of those holding it.
1. A personality that is a well powered Agora
for affluence and power to trade
from collar to ankle, my long covering is embroidered
with stitches of laurels
as life’s willy, I stand against nature’s passive resistance
educated beyond satisfaction
as I neither drink the slurry of poverty
nor condemned in the scaffold of barbarism.
The depth of my influence
surpasses the borders of space
the slideshow of my worth stays not reclusive
as my path has gone beyond fate
to put fortune under no quandary to visiting me.
Chorus
It’s okay if my ego wears jacket
it’s nice if my resume plays drums
I’m endowed, dazzling and full
so let the world know my hands are a major part
of those holding it.
2. There is no contest
to my flag standing highest and brightest
yet my blessings still feel reclusive
my known image will stand collateral for global peace.
Media houses even in the desert
roar in a moving tempest of my reputation
yet not half the needed depth is achieved.
My commanding drive and intimidating leadership
the first education to all newborns
I am a feather bed to all my networks
even in the grave, my decaying bones
will be worth more than the basilicas of ancient Europe.
Chorus
It’s okay if my ego wears jacket
it’s nice if my resume plays drums
I’m endowed, dazzling and full
so let the world know my hands are a major part
of those holding it.
3. Stronger and continuously refined I am
as I stand on top
and drink the revile, like old wine
of those who wish to live in forgery of me
the air is tagged with my trademark
as communities mimic
from the chronicles and sweeteners of my exploits.
The sun rises from my past
to reiterate a future covered with curtains
of red silk and exotic flowers.
Down the stairs to a panhandler is stupid
but my pride can wear an Asian salwar
rather than an Italian blazer
yet, fully satisfied to cling
unto the appendages of God’s glory.
Chorus
It’s okay if my ego wears jacket
it’s nice if my resume plays drums
I’m endowed, dazzling and full
so let the world know my hands are a major part
of those holding it.
Unwashed but felt, my single to every a tear sunk with the rain
Is there no life of my own can I exchange for hers to remain?}
“Though your heart may be pitiful in nature
It is seen that strength exist in one’s heartfelt structure
The tragedy witnessed is indeed uncalled for and unkind
The wrath of the Leech-King has succeeded in breaking the chains of time
However one is to think the terrors it is capable to unleash
Isn’t to be as compared to the horrors the spawn leeches it release
One being underway to consume the life of the Mistress of War
Tasting the blood, licking the soul till finally of death to befall
Yet, death is only to be the beginning of her worst nightmare
The service to the void must she forever be in servitude to bare
Time is always against those who would seek the path of faith
Every turn is only to promise another tide of evil to wave
I speak solemnly in words for my powers isn’t harvested for healing
Neither is The Angel of Dreams capable of such cursed nurturing
The Word however, will have a way to alleviate this travesty
Yet, time isn’t to favour one’s path towards the ultimate destiny
Perhaps only a day or two remains before Alkaiya is to turn side
And to have one as Holy to abide to The Void… is as well to welcome eternal night
Be warned Knight of the Word, Alkaiya is one’s guide within The Ancients
Where one is to be lost, all is lost… and either will be banished from existence
There is still a providential way to prevail over this quandary
Though it isn’t to cure fully, it is however the unsurpassed remedy
There is a God, a fallen God alike The Befallen Angel of Dreams
A day’s walk to the Mount of Ecilia is where he resides therein
I am not to promise a conceivable outcome to foresee
I can only assure… this being the finest proposal to be
And one need not fear to be alone, for I will guide the way
If not to ensure for the lives of the Champions… remains to stay
Live and let live one’s destine life within The Ancients to be
Do not be troubled by an enigmatic outcome, one is unable to see
Our paths must we bear the burdens our tormented souls will lead
My once path directed to failure where you must now succeed
Let us be on our way to ascend the treacherous mountains upon
To be there, will one’s subsequent path be unraveled along…”
An evanescent bouquet of skewed briars,
is how a tinsel laden tawdry essence wickedly unfolds ,
scuppered signpost to a fetid human compost,
faint light pendant on soul crushed quantum migrant,
who might chortle at vivid veil flimsy vacuum,
skirt recklessly around bogus symbols,
peer behind the squalid limp sodden hedge,
mock myopic moribund mist upon boundary busting dawn chimera,
sneer at synthetic spectrum elastic in its irritating tidal wave surfeit,
cerulean fabric‘s milky way escape plot,
in a perilous quest for that eternal tape loop mantra,
the synaptic heart of that vainglorious horizon,
self-knowledge under charcoal moon and silver cloud veneer,
or feral waste rapid fire contagion,
the indecisive day glow dither on the margins ,
of fly weight feeble frantic dash,
that velvet shadow treason daubed pettifog,
known as tangential wanton cobweb fester creed,
the mind a bloated ripple vortex numbing in its scope,
golden mirage but faux fur real concoction,
against the banal backdrop of complex-ridden superficial eddy,
from floral garland poseur stricken en train,
some vox pop indignation mere shrinking violet showcase waver,
the gleam-hued truth has this dastardly demonic derailment,
that I brush aside as spiteful oxalic sting repost,
that deceptive mint green forest of chameleon cant,
sly nuanced molten maple syrup hint,
from out of kilter tree pierce otherworld,
unseen yet bliss-edged virtual garden of firm conviction,
not just from isolated enigmatic individual script,
such as torrid turbulence or mindless scattered rim shot,
when conventions can be altered in exotic prose,
human zeitgeist has this far too often penchant,
for silkworm rapt effervescent double speak,
whilst plain unvarnished uplifting utterance,
resides within the deep crystal spring well,
of us torch aloft emerald earthling sages,
please augment the rock buttress stark phrase,
whose bluntness is a carrier pigeon of candor,
devoid of muted gray cloud blind waffle,
aromatic sprig to giant spasm of bold pluck,
quandary of human race at hearth,
frightened cliques, hidebound yes men who yen,
to swim the azure gulf of august freedom,
to the Eden where lucid tongues herald pristine witness.
where values at the centre of our being should blossom
Management here at
Highland Manor Apartments sent out word
that tomorrow, January twenty third,
two thousand and twenty one,
we (all residents) will receive the first (of two)
inoculations to stave off getting COVID-19,
hence mine poetic title might seem absurd.
Aforementioned stance toward death
obviously antithetical
regarding desire to stay alive
and most oppressive
when mine mental, physical
and/or spiritual yours truly
takes a (swan) dive
analogous where bajillion bees
swarm from their hive.
Linkedin with well known poem by and by
penned by Emily Dickinson, I didst decry
expressed her relief to die
"Because I could not stop for Death,"
she aptly crafted verses to comply
reverently, merrily, and gloriously accepting
cessation of existence well nigh
as does one garden variety generic goofy guy.
All natural catastrophes aside,
plus excluding thermonuclear war,
where civilization would get fried
nullifying idea viz,
let conscience be your guide,
nor no place to run and hide
left to grapple with dystopian quandary
shuttering fright housed inside
in one poof annihilating prejudice
(white privilege included) and pride
reducing to ashes trumpeting
self importance, where snide
persona grata becomes irrelevant
as does living social
or vacationing in Telluride.
Interestingly enough,
I do not entertain notions
inflicting self harm nor suicide,
but expect longevity (to ride
one after another orbitz around the sun)
maximum total (represented courtesy
value units and tens place)
at minimum exceeds double digits
in plain English aged
to perfection groom and bride
attains at least ninety nine years.
Despite skittering within hair's breadth or blink
looming over the edge no time to think,
cuz no matter being knight in shining armor
I can scrunch and squint thru visored chink,
and espy and the title
of a storied book by Tom Wolfe I think
Old Rotten Gotham sliding into behavioral sink,
amidst so much flotsam and jetsam
while singing Skidamarink
surrender unavoidable fate
cuz destiny dis rapper doth not shrink
and recognizes that whatever does not kill
will only make me stronger
(money back guarantee)
I attain a spry five score birthdays
and while away hours
playing solitary game of tiddlywink.
Acid reflux ~ 7:00 post meridiem September 24th, 2019
Ah... nothing more enjoyable than acidic gastric fluid flowing backward into esophagus, resulting in heartburn, disrupting pleasant dreams, nor unsure how successful literary endeavor crafting poem regarding aforementioned will yield.
While deeply asleep
during late afternoon siesta
above name named date/time,
yours truly immediately awoke
with a start, at strong violent
urge to upheap
I made little or no bowed peep,
but sat bolt upright stock still
tear ducts activated eyes
as if ready to weep.
Sadness less pervasive than fright
since reverse peristalsis uncommon
within body electric regarding plight,
which analogous volcanic eruption
albeit bubbling magmatic flow slight
reverse peristalsis found yours truly
on par with fire breathing dragon ar
goo ably momentarily nonplussed -
while dry cough minus gushing lava
gratefully only smoldered before sim
ring upper gastrointestinal tract did
allow, enable, and provide mouths
full of distilled water quench sudden
unquenchable thirst relieved result
ant unpleasant aftertaste (no pun
intended), yet distilling humor helps
me weather, manage, cope... with
unexpected physiological fee nom
mina - shot straight up within digest
heave tract, and did lament this rick
hitty packet of muscle and bone aft
times susceptible to disheartening
woebegone news afflicting this non
Norwegian bachelor farmer, whom
if the missus cooking triggered bout
unleashing bit torrent of unsavory
plate tectonics, perhaps indicative
of continental drift shrunk down to
miniature, where fault in thee stars
must be held in contempt of court
if for no other reason, I just wanted
to incorporate said phrase, tip here
me got some legal lear'n, when truth
Philly admits he seems to know less,
the he learns, which prompts me to
posit emphatically that ignorance iz
equivalent to bliss, thus presenting
quandary how kin this pronouncedly
reasonably intelligent garden variety
*****sapiens unfetter himself with
cumulative knowledge without reek
horse to invasive surgery such as...
prefrontal lobotomy, or te deum down
smarts some unknown cyber surfer(s)
could easily misconstrue as vainness,
smugness, quintessential pomposity?
I now "quiver" when I think of us as kids, the days we played dangerously at the huge "quay." I still remember the card you made me, the "quaint" Valentine you sincerely gave. My heart was yours from that very day, the day from that card you had made. Upon my dresser sits a beautiful "perfume" bottle, the one covered with "platinum" roses. A gift you once gave to me on Valentine's Day,
the gift filled with love and "poise." Why did you leave me and our love, I am now is such a "quandary." Today I went to church to do "penance," I said a prayer this Valentine's Day for you. My heart is still in love, wish you were here with a huge hug.
Date Written: 2/10/2021
Whilst sitting on the Launch Pad
They await the final countdown
Their rocket – called TAKE 5, begins to shudder
The Captain is well known, and called BUTTERFINGER Boris
The other crew are MIKE and IKE and a female they call Doris
Rising with a roar like thunder
The MILKY WAY GALAXY to their left
Igniting like a Rocket at a Guy Fawkes celebration
They travel through the atmospheres and up into the stratospheres
The crew men on the Mother ship are called THREE MUSKETEERS
As they approach the Harvest Moon
A wondrous sight for all to see
The ship positions carefully, preparing to touch down
The Moon looks like a Christmas bauble dangling from the skies
Such a WHOOPER – it’s humongous, they really can’t believe their eyes
Landing with a bump and beginning to alight
They step upon this waterless and dusty satellite
There are SNO- CAPS for to climb, with such a steep incline
Great MOUNDS of debris all around that block their route ahead
But truthfully the crew would like to be at home, instead
As they explore the Moon once more
They stumble upon a strange creature
A little Green Man, who is very obese
Announcing himself with a sweeping bow, as Mr WATCHAMACALLIT
He’s training to run a Moon MARATHON, but he needs to get fitter to win it
The crew they finished all their chores
Boarding the Mother Ship they fasten her doors
Lift off is smooth, as they drift and float, gliding back into space
But hearing a strange voice nearby, whispering "Are those goodies for me"
They discover Mr W, on bended knees, embarking on a chocolate SPREE
But how on earth did he climb aboard, this CHUNKY little man
The crew in such a quandary and not knowing what to do
Should they turn back NOW AND LATER tell the reasons why
Or continue on their journey home, they did not want to die
Let’s take him home, cried Doris, he can live with me, I like his smile
But the twinkle in her eyes became a tear upon her cheek
She was lonely and emotional as she began to speak
She had fallen for the Moon Man in amongst the ballyhoo
Back home now and in wedded bliss, living on 5th AVENUE
How Sweet it is Competition, Sponsor Carol Connell, written on 29.09.18
Contest Brian's Choice D
Sponsor Brian Strand