Long Regarding Poems
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November 6th 2018 - election day
Later today after
all votes get cast
post final countdown,
the winning candidates
ought to be known
way before break fast
cometh on the lanced
morrow (for champions),
nonetheless
my fingers and toes crossed,
that those donned diametrically
opposed to establishmentarian
(reed conservative
buttoned down
MAGA stalwarts) deemed
more dangerous than
beastie boys, or
foo fighting, Outkast
sans, these progressive forward
thinking Democratic activists
(purportedly threatening
gerrymandered territory,
where white Anglo Saxon
Protestant hegemony dominates
status quo regarding
dhow ting Thomas Nast
tee Donkeys as
hashtagged by Trump),
I pray these true
purring blue state
representatives clinch,
the majority to oust vast
Republican politicians cowed,
demeaned, and excoriated
for NOT fawning
prince supple lee,
nor paying expected
obeisance as mealy
mouth sycophants, that she
push hilly accede toward
belligerent, execrable,
and incriminating, nee
Machiavellian hot headed,
quasi coiffed,
donned, and puffed que
hair raising bully,
whose vindictive
uber lyft tartly tinged
tongue lashing,
they risk acerbic
punitive un re
lent ting vitriol stemming
from recalcitrance determined
by the fuhrer wannabe
wool shear lee be silenced
unless that bigoted,
"FAKE" man hat
tinned unabashed, unhinged,
and unruly
villainous president we
the village people nominated
to bulldoze zee
American free
dumbs, now made irrelevant!
So many thoughts permeate my mind that once comforted this body. You replicated the feeling I get when I lay on top of warm clean linens, high-count thread, comfort. The scent of your perfect body exuded, found its way to my heart. I can recount my fingertips trails, as they traced the outline of your spirit's beauty mark. I swiftly believed and felt that your body and life were created to fit mine. How I wished in those moments, the clock of all time would have shattered on those hours our breath intertwined. When our lips met, creating fireworks with my insides. My then intact soul ribbons became completely too weak to dance freely. As your enchanting presence welcomed comfort and blanketed me. You made me feel complete like the largest Russian doll's figure keeps the smaller ones at ease. Your tongue could never taste bad. I remember leaving your presence daydreaming of your life's existence and how could I/me be a part of that. I was nothing like his perfection seen through my eyes. I, to he, was nothing. One day I unfortunately came to realize the feelings of warmth I gathered from his chest, they were not intended to comfort my heart, no, I was just another doll for him to undress. Just another stop on his route, no bead of water from his head did he shed. No sleep has been lost, from that monster in his sinful bed. This feeling of betrayal makes me contemplate future decisions, and choices I make. Like is putting all this work into these waste baskets worth the risk I dare take? TRULY any prior thoughts I considered regarding the love another gives that I blindly and willingly embrace, will now be reconsidered. I still can't believe I bared my naked soul to such a broken, poisoned mind. There are times where I wish I could take back all those feelings I gave you, that I should have just kept inside. However, I can't be mad, I was a willing participant in all of that. I guess we all have life lessons we have to go through. So, thanks, because I now consider some of those learned lessons to be any prior energy I gave to you for free.
6/3/17
Continual verbatim
And ultimatums
Better know what they're payin'
During times of economic downfall and inflation
I got no time for playin'
And don't care what others are sayin'
Skills like Raiden
Time I turn super saiyan
Mixed with Jason
Any anything made by Wes Craven
Near and far from any raven
Across every basin
And all the nations
During any occasions
Got to make more bacon
In the form of Benjamin Franklins
Events occuring for short or long-term durations
Regarding similar and different situations
I've been way down below the foundation
In the basement
Below layers of pavement
Still found inspiration
As the universe remained in rotation
Since the dawn of creation
Among objects nowhere near or adjacent
To lots that were or were not vacant
With the talent of a mason
And knowledge of a shaman
In any location
(Otherwise titled poetic
gobbledygook trot -
oven chilly cooked confusion eliciting
faint thanks a lot
unbeknownst this tasteless,
senseless, rhymeless... lettered
Rorschach test tease I jot
interpretation, viz hitting
analogously like amorphous melted ingot
watch yourself...
d's lines iz still smok'n HOT,
now I puzzle regarding how
to extricate mess elf aye got
into try'n to strut and trumpet
hightailing to Hong Kong
entrepôt yea, that dot
on the map embroiled -
in political fracas fifteen minutes
of fame Andy Warhol didst allot
every man, woman,
and child even no bot
tee like me.)
Anyway... when zombie like,
I try to dead reckon eyes
purposefulness astride oblate spheroid
nsync with other gals and guys
either one, t'other or all
mask cue lated in disguise
impossible mission to triangulate
Euclid say logic defies
to comprehend gibberish
no matter how much you scrutinize
his highness, qua shape
shifting imperfect square stumps
any tree men douse great mind to analyze
me skewering, marinating, gunning... decries
abiding any logical positivism
queries best addressed to Lord of the Flies
since nary handy dandy blues clues,
I opted out thus...
rubbish provided to synthesize
random words helter skelter
strewn to symbolize
absent any rhyme or reason
courtesy handy matted figurative
trapezoid doth employ
no paradigm to exercise
leaving comprehension after mine demise
so go ahead chastise
cuz I already know,
never will said poetry win apprize.
Argh... dog dam mutt
(boot exhausted tending Milan Collie)
If only father time could... but
yea right Matthew Scott cut
your losses, accompanied
with sinking feeling in gut
ready to vent off steam
start fire next time and burn
(billy me I merrily Joel King),
down house i.e. mancave hut...,
in tot, while yours truly emulates
one among many talking heads
with tongue doth jut
out mouth making nasty facial feature
at reflection nut
tin much else
except, perhaps try to put
gear into overdrive any
remembered magmatic
lava lee fragments
to pull this mad man
out of figurative rut
nothing gainsaid verbally taunting self
with expletive epithet
more colorful than tut...tut... tut.
Chalk permanent heart wrenching
pinteresting kindling horrifying
devastating loss regarding
opus magnus extremely cross
at yours truly, nope no ace
in the hole, hence best bet to
down bottle of tranquilizers
with swig flask of booze to brace
transcending after life netherland,
where angels plucking harps
magically can exorcise
Manhattan goose stepping
quite pheasant hunched mountebank
Norte worthy dame
giving bankable chase
courtesy cloistered chaste
siren of Titan (on the
order of Mrs. Doubtfire)
hoop fully abducts me than
willingly, meticulously,
and compliantly doth erase
every vestige of writings.
Thoroughly cooked duck, dogged
dully dilly dallying gent
realized errors of
his ways, where bent
crooked right hand pinky the chief
hankering provocateur leant
admission (for one adult) cogent
tam o shanter donning Brit with scent
tum mental affectation unable to console
yours truly, who feeble
effort non poetic event
merely hoped to muster
even lame to assuage
smoldering ire, wherever
sense and sensibility went.
T'is urgent Mr.Moon,
You don't want to be a slacker;
Respond to me ASAP
Regarding my mere matter.
No resentment in my bones,
No anger and no fury.
Time is ticking on the clock,
Before I face the jury.
Me- I'm small and You- You're big and
Every single night,
Forever looking up at you
For you can expedite...
Approval for my freedom,
Am ageing like a prune.
You can change my future,
So c'mon Mr.Moon.
Know that you're THE moon,
So wave your giant wand.
Offering a treaty...
If only you respond.
Press once more the urgency,
This all that I require-
Answers to my questions,
For here I may expire.
Help me Mr.Moon,
The nurses and the doctors-
Speaking very loudly,
Sounding like the choppers!
Help! Help!! the doctors and the nurses,
Have got me! Yes they've got me
They've got me with
Vexed verses.
Don't touch me, Don't dare touch me,
My friend he sees you all.
You may be big but he is huge and
You you're very small.
I tell you all he's up there and
watching everything,
Oh my gosh did you see that?
A flying large g-string !
Save me Mr.Moon,
Wait, I can see a placket,
Oh no, Oh no, Oh my gosh...
This is a tight straightjacket!!!
A straightjacket they have on me,
This your fault old moon.
Can't believe what you've done-
Be seeing you real soon.
You don't care and you don't care,
Swear I have no air...
Cannot breathe, gonna heave,
the moon he's everywhere.
Laughing at you all,
He looks like a cartoon...
There he is behind that cloud,
Swear it is the moon!
Listen to me all,
Listen ! Listen !! Listen !!!
This the truth; I speak the truth,
Fact and this not fiction.
The moon has stalked me all my life
This like a steel cocoon,
Get me out of here...
I swear it was the moon !!!
This is a joke I swear it is,
In fact against the law.
You and me it's on I swear;
Moon and I to war.
Avast emotional gulf manifested; courtesy
series of unfortunate events; sundered
biologically accorded, cherished, enshrined
paternal bond; resultant dereliction defies,
justifies, ratifies...dissonance; unbearable
hindsight excoriates impropriety reviewing
dirty deeds done dirt cheap; impossible mission
to excise indelibly etched psychological
impacted repercussions upon mine fountainhead;
weighing excruciating deserved self loathing;
permanently deplorable depravity yoked;
unyielding choke hold, no longer asking
forgiveness, but airing errant culpability;
dada's guilt indefensible impropriety; begetting
permanent fallout; exacting just desserts; bitter
regret beast of burden (oxe see moron) housed
within self made villain; unjust to impinge your
providential opportunities, whose blessed smarts
plus unfettered, unencumbered, undaunted...
daring do promise productive existence par
excellence, versus anxiety riddled torturous
legacy writ large across countenance this papa;
analogously das scribe bing mortal epitaph, while
dark shadows haunt this edgy rusty knight, who
once pawn time shrugged off mischievous
lascivious actions as payback; recognizably erred;
misperceptions (mine); deduced ex post facto,
when the missus doled out unpleasantries;
exploding anger; vented regarding significant
roiling perturbations harkening to her own
unrepentant poisonous stinging toxicity;
delivered courtesy birth parents; hands lack
king awareness to rock cradle with tender
loving care, hence burdened with childhood
tsoris prior to accepting yours truly as life
contra dance partner these preceding xxii+
years avoiding unseemly behavior; aware
that the mother of our two darling daughters
doth love and forgive me, though recouping
similar results with first offspring may remain
tense, and many years past not a happy camper.
Like an older brother coming to my defense,
he said, "But what about you. What do you want?"
Those words were in response to what seemed to
him, very little concern about my desires regarding
the issue in question. He sensed that my interests
were not being attended to, not even by me.
When hearing his words, they did not change my leanings
toward sacrificing my preferences for those of another.
However, my spirit was enriched because someone portrayed
such interest and passion regarding a matter concerning me.
Mindfulness of my needs has been rare in the course of my life,
and I treasure such each time it happens. When one learns to live,
laugh, and love without regards to the direction of the wind flow,
he develops 'stick skin' and moves on to whatever comes next.
That is why when I heard those 'fitly spoken words', they indeed
were like 'apples of gold in pictures of silver'*. Mindfulness toward
others is a very lovely and powerful thing.
060621PSCtest, Mindfulness, Unseeking Seeker *Proverbs 25:11
Matthew Scott Harris deprived himself
relishing, savoring, and tasting
chromosomal biologic metamorphosis
including wreaking havoc, nixing, and
foregoing heterosexual interpersonal experiences,
thus sparking woeful regret
disallowing, disenabling, and not providing
natural encoded healthy growth
of body, mind, and spirit triage
regarding fluke of universe i.e. me
(since origin of aforementioned species)
took center stage tentatively
bivouacking upon globe.
Much ado about nothing
can be done measure for measure
missing out out love's labour's lost
nevertheless, all's well
doth (did) not end well
concerning (by dickens)
my life and hard times,
which cannot square miserable
with great expectations never attained
courtesy wretched soul,
scratching our feeble existence,
who gives the antagonist and/or protagonist
constituting Les Misérables,
a run (for his) la monnaie,
eeking out hand to mouth subsistence
never livingsocial, nor buzzfeeding
avast set of basic hormonal needs and wants
and/ or acquiring, succoring,
and treasuring pittance
akin to dime a dozen
day late and dollar short paupers,
(whose mere pennies on the dollar earnings,
albeit insufficiently funded legal tender)
while accruing mere stale crumbs
comprising daily bread -
our humble father
who art thou in heaven...
bejesus crust...damn near
impossible mission to guarantee
adequate sense and sensibility
pertaining to mine remaining
complete or partial celestial orbitz
without pride nor prejudice
upending, jeopardizing, or compromising
my fragile ego contemplating Cogito, ergo sum.
Our whole house was concrete, and we had a real chimney. Santa inside a chimney? Such a reality never made sense to me. At some point that only God knows for sure, I discovered without dismay that my dear parents were the real Clause.
I was a Southern boy, and they said we were poor.
I suppose we were a bit deprived, but I wasn’t sad.
Mom and dad always found a way to make us glad.
We were always blessed with plenty on Christmas Day.
We had plenty of good fruits and sweet foods to eat.
If it was cold, we came inside and got close to the heat.
We had pistols and BB guns, and lots of toys with which to play. I think most of all, I remember the trains and red wagons.
Regarding toys, I never got what I wanted most for Christmas. As a little boy I enjoyed the joyful rides on my tricycle; but when I came of age, I longed to own a nice red bicycle.
A longing to die for, but I guess we were just a bit too poor for that.
Anyway, I also think that there was simply too much fun and love
To be bothered about that. 12122016 PS Contest, Christmas day, Alexis Y
1st Place