Long Sabotaged Poems
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Ever since mine boyhood
I experienced abhorrence
toward yours truly,
an extremely introverted kid,
whose parents nor siblings
(one younger and older sister) could
not arouse him out of his emotional torpor
akin being on par with
Peter Peter pumpkin eater...
whereby he (meaning
author who wrote this poem)
kept himself isolated, quarantined, and xed out
within self made shell.
Me mum mollycoddled her only son
bathed him in maternal love
omnipotent motherliness
figuratively guillotined
(unwittingly) healthy maturation,
thus development sabotaged
courtesy figurative apron strings.
No matter his filial relationship woeful
(to thee woman who birthed him),
he registered sentimental value
regarding keepsakes bequeathed,
he still keeps cherished mementoes
redolent when she lived.
Call him a mama's happy go lucky boy
whose later ambivalent feelings
tarnished, undermined and vitiated
short lived tender loving care,
which brief vouchsafed cocooned wellbeing
regarding idyllic rapport between parents,
got staind, suppurated, sundered, sullied...
in later years by incrimination
against being gainfully unemployed.
February twenty eighth ninety sixty eight
marked a tectonic seismic shift as moving vans
transported our household freight
to (at that time) R(ural) D(elivery) 2,
Level Road Collegeville, Pennsylvania 19426,
a ramshackle (summer) mansion named Glen Elm
plus whittled down fraction
of original Hundred Acre plus wood.
Relocation with Lower Providence School District,
approximately half dozen mile distance
between former and latter home(s),
nevertheless psyche of mine
property of extremely introverted kid
severely hi-jacked.
I have spent my entire life building a fortress out of the silence, layering polite smiles over the rotting beams of things I never said. You always thought I was quiet, perhaps a little shy, but the truth is, I was terrified that if I opened my mouth, the truth would burn my tongue.
I never told you that I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you. I left because I loved you too much, and I was watching myself turn into a monster—a desperate, grasping thing that fed on your certainty because I had none of my own. I sabotaged us. I sat in the center of our happiness and whispered that it was all temporary, that I was a ticking time bomb of mediocrity.
And the worst part? When I finally did break us, I felt a shameful, sickening sense of relief.
It’s been five years, and I still wake up at 3 AM looking for you in the bed, only to find the cold, hard reality of my own making. I am sorry that my healing had to cost you your peace. I am sad that I am still, even now, writing this to you in a diary instead of bringing it to your doorstep.
The silence is still here, and I am still building the walls. I am afraid that if I stop, I will finally have to meet the person I am when I am not hiding.
Stand for truth, righteousness, common sense, and personal Responsibility. To handle the truth, one must be certain of the truth and what it Entails. Truth is not to be sat on, lied on, spit on, but totally relied upon Continually. Righteousness proceeds from God; if he is left out of the equation, it Fails. There is no righteousness but values clarification, no absolutes, Conformity.
Common sense, disguised and despised, is a luxury too few even care About. Personal responsibility, a Divine assignment being arrogantly Sabotaged.
Leave your mark on this world; refuse to be silenced, never giving up or Out. Disallow discouragement to wear us down, but gallantly, lead the Charge Beware the enemy; do not fear him; and about this, there can be no Doubt
Never underestimate the importance, the value of righteousness in a Nation. A defensive weapon, impenetrable wall; builds offenses, destroys Strongholds. Certain and sound intolerances, respectfully honored, avoid Devastation.
For years, we were taught that rules are made by those who hold the Gold. Overacting is unplanned reaction; victory requires a proactive Action.
Freedom demands we sit at counters that serve, not counterfeits, but Truth. Common sense, a security blanket for self-control, disallowing control by Others. Personal responsibility is a courageous choice like one made by the Biblical character of Ruth. Generally, peace and prosperity will follow us when we choose to love God and one Another. May we stand and remain standing for those eternal principles that we were taught in our Youth.
090121PS
In her playground of romance,
swings of destiny swayed gently,
as a merry-go-around span endlessly,
so in a state of dizziness,
I crept inside, unaware, in my sleepiness,
I had been treading upon flowers beneath my feet,
as their fragrance faded, her spirit wept in echoes of betrayal,
but her tongue could not explain,
so, I gifted her three dahlias from my soul's oasis;
purple for prosperity,
red for passion and
white for innocence.
I can still remember the taste from
the first time I felt the moisture of her lips.
In a night where we held each other so tight,
we sizzled like the Sahara sun,
as heat kindled in our kisses,
we merged in the silent language of touch,
waiting for gravity to bring us back.
We were adrift without the need for words -
in places poetry cannot reach.
In our infatuation, following lanterns in the night sky,
I mistook our path of promises
for an intimate illusion only found in dreams
and became misplaced in her self sabotaged storm,
until I was swept away with merciless waves.
Yet, yearning rests upon the tip of my tongue,
like breathless whispers.
If only she would come to me like dawn,
so I could kiss her like ripples at 5am and
once more feel the heartbeats upon her breast.
I turn half asleep,
reaching out into the emptiness,
as the darkness paints her silhouette in each corner,
flickering sentimental slideshows in my mind,
absorbing the angst of her absence.
Now I am nothing,
and she no longer remembers my name -
so what purpose is there to remain?
Ravens gather to the rhythm of a sad piano,
as my pulse beats wistfully among weeping willows,
leaving traces on my flesh like raindrops on stone.
Reciting the last paragraph, I ponder
if this is maybe the penultimate poem,
as we cannot find new verses to ink together.
But, our memories are stitched into the same seam,
so I'll wear her handwriting until heaven.
COVID-19 pandemic analogous how indigenous peoples got felled...
Woebegone, enraged spirits
holographic images taciturn
journeying somberly aghast
at their stolen sacred lands... mourn
dead souls impossible mission
sabotaged aery mission endeavor
happy hunting grounds upheaval
witnessed gaunt bloody sojourn,
perhaps collective aboriginal ghosts return
to haunt cruel innocent heir/heiresses
regarding interlopers, si?
Malicious intent birthed in subsequent
quick succession to adventitious,
(nevertheless grievous) events
visited upon heads of storied "Indians")
misnomer spurred European explorers
(more particularly exploiters),
when "discovering" the Americas
to dole out (deliberately)
contaminated accouterments,
plus various sundry trappings
to native inhabitants.
Gross misdeeds of our long deceased forebears
debauched, decorated, and dedicated
footloose hedonistic jackbooted violent men
loosed mayhem opening pandora's box
unwittingly and/or intentionally disseminating
seeds of annihilation germinating lethal pandemic
decimating innocent ofttimes knowingly
unleashing opportunistic virile organisms
without vital immunity linkedin
bodily defense mechanisms.
With advantage of hindsight
always 20/20 (especially
calendrical juncture planetary
space/time continuum 2020)
opprobrium plentifully quoted
as cosmic consciousness skews perspective,
whereby admission acknowledged
conquistadors looted, pillaged, and raped
(blithely, effectively, and indiscriminately killed)
every man, woman, and child
and/or sowed cultural abomination
acceleration, adulation, aeration...
Though thoroughly grounded
within secular humanism
courtesy kickstarting metaphysical realism
philosophical, teleological...
essentially Unitarianism paradigm
whereby ripple repercussions of actions
(think butterfly effect
starring Ashton Kutcher - ha)
trigger domino falling action,
yet additionally affects fate,
particularly he/she who
activated, cultivated, generated...
chain of events, particularly
brutal, deplorable, and unforgivable misdeeds.
Nirvana awaits dada dear
thine paternal parent,
who helped sire yours truly,
a widower these
last fourteen plus years,
he laments absence,
and sorely misses presence
regarding scatterbrain spouse,
single word description,
he would readily concur
appellation linkedin with
bubbly headed just legal bride
born November thirteenth
ninety thirty five
learned thru the grapevine
(I must telephone him...
before the curtain call...,
whence his spirit
exits stage door left,
cashes in chips
gives up ghost
kick the bucket
rest in peace
et cetera, cuz
heavy sadness still pronounced
since me birth mother (his wife)
departed about three years
following grim terminal prognosis
metastatic uterine cancer
sabotaged her vivacious person
doggedly die hard zest
Arthur Murray ballroom instructor
unbridled questing nabbed,
(albeit flirtatious Lolita)
husbanded coy demeanor
snookered young, tall, slender,
handsome, athletic bachelor
unwitting prime ketch
female instinct pheromone scented
bewitched, enthralled, intoxicated...
pretty thang wrought yoked
without resistance ohm mat tickly
generated electric charm
crackled, popped, and snapped
synapses nsync between infatuated pair
future groom invoked flying colors
courtesy maternal grandmother
marriage spanned approximately half century,
not entirely wedded bliss,
yet each swore fidelity to the other
..."until death do us part".
When we search for answers from egotistic minds,
life is full of meaningless questions that lead us nowhere.
You sabotaged the sandman who brought me my dreams,
corrupting and confusing the clarity of my conscience.
In a world of betrayal, I thought you were my
saviour,
but your promises were sworn from a throne of lies -
where you perch as the king of false pretences.
Tired from being a victim of your insecurities,
I am not your mistake nor your abandoned
trauma.
Fate led my empathic sanity into your labyrinth of splintered hollowness,
confining me within a soulless sphere of unfair
madness,
yet, I still remember how you pledged to show me the moon -
falsehoods which led to an eternal eclipse for my eyes.
You stole the silver sewn with perfectly metered syllables,
calming the storm I carry in cacophonous silence,
but now, all I see is a megalomaniac monster, draped in rose tones of synthetic rhodolite, pretending to be an ivory dove in a horizon of vicious vultures,
hiding behind a decaying province of black petunias.
Your synthetic smile veils your cruel character, afraid that the vermilion you paint across your
sunsets,
will reveal the poison you fed my paralyzed soul.
My ink will always portray your true parasite persona,
about your attempts to assassinate my authentic aroma,
as now i blossom in meadows without your
toxic touch.
I laid me body stomach down atop a grassy knoll...
here at Highland Manor Apartments
earlier today Juneteenth 2022,
(a pitch perfect spring day)
with serious intent to read
seat of the pants suspense thriller
The New Comprehensive
A-Z Crossword Dictionary.
Invariably, yours truly
quickly experienced drowsiness,
succumbed to deep sleep
and dreamt being linkedin
with livingsocially off the grid
among ecological, liberal, social minded
people progressive in act, deed, and thought
versus participating in consumerist paradigm.
As a conscious conscientious counterpart
the missus shops with a conscience
and yours truly considers her price savvy
when she purchases groceries
at ALDI, Giant, LIDL, or other supermarket.
Impossible mission to adopt modus operandi,
whereby wife would entertain notion to husband
energy garnering fruits and vegetables
courtesy sweat equity
since we lack basic homesteading skills,
nor consider either of us
adequately financially solvent
to contact compatible intentional community
since requisite criteria
require a healthy monetary stash of money.
Unlikely substantial windfall will appear out of the blue,
nor grandiose wish to draw winning lottery ticket,
thus sobering truth to burnish marketable skills
finds me seek assistance
courtesy office of vocational rehabilitation in general
and counselor Donna Marchese in particular,
which most likely entails
securing training to learn Microsoft Office Applications.
More precisely, some familiarity exists
regarding understanding computer software
since admission of foolhardiness
now averred how countless golden opportunities
slipped thru these ofttimes sweaty fingers.
Though never successfully completed,
received funding back in the day from:
CETA, O(ffice) of V(ocational) R(ehabilitation)
twice before whereby
the former and/or latter program
allocated unspecified dollars
(poor Ray McNeil, the first OVR counselor,
whose tiresome love's labour's lost for naught)
in an effort to acquire gainful employment,
which in all honesty sabotaged
cause of that bugaboo severe social anxiety
more specifically diagnosed
as schizoid personality disorder;
no shame to admit mental health crisis.
If i gave it over, i would go back to the dust
i would be free from these words that are chains
as the Master of my Faith, I would fly away
never again to be a captive of the flesh
As I heard a command coming down the chain of command
as a still small voice it falls on my ear
and it is the people that create ripples inthe pond
and if you can't distinguish the good from the bad apple
as the foolishness of a man spills forth from the seat of power
don't be confused for it is said in that day many will fall away from the %
Faith.
As my Shield of Faith deflects the firey darts of the devil
i confront those who are in the devils service
i put the blood in it. I pledge the blood of the Master as I am under the laws of the Kingdom of God
may i serve in a manner worthy of that Sacrifice
May i be Valiant against their many numbers
if i should be betrayed by my friends
or sabotaged by my lack of diligence
Be my Strength and wits in the battle
Form:
A feint attempt to stab myself...
quickly found the missus ready to faint
Like a madman possessed
by mailer daemon lemme acquaint
ye with the following verse, I will bepaint
momentary horror, where yours truly
entered momentary third eye blind rage
loosing violent constraint
nearly thrust knife
into right leg without restraint,
which curtailed prospective martyrdom,
thus scotching, nullifying, denying...
me anointed apostolic saint
plus stripping christened name,
one Matthew Scott,
cuz he threatened to harm himself
invariably with permanent
leg a see did taint
moment of spontaneity
instantaneously vanished without a trace
when irrational brandished
white as a ghostly corpse petrified wife,
who merely felt playfully frisky
I haint kitten,
yours truly reflexively reached
for paring, quartering,
halving deboning, cutting...
said kitchen utensil
nearly sabotaged marriage
finding zee spouse suddenly widowed
(never writing last will and testament,
nor in fact ever drafting first)
as husband almost pitched himself
into wuz bin realm
courtesy short nasty brute
mine generic doppelganger
harkening back to dem good ole days,
when regular altercations occurred
heralding grab regarding lovely bag of bones
birds of prey didst carrion and buzzfeed
scavenging any shred of wedded bliss
which auld lang syne times
well nigh witnessed fisticuff strife,
though these previous half dozen years
considerably less rife and riddled
with expletive strewn epithets
that cut sharper than a dull knife.
Momentary loss of reason
every now and again
finds me skull comfortably numb
just another brick in the wall
reckoning, we don't need no education
acquiring diploma courtesy
hard skool of knocks alumnus
attests he experienced
arduous, horrendous, opprobrious, and venomous
environment pinterest tingly linkedin
with congenital predisposition to anxiety/
panic attacks in toto
enroute visiting Wizard of Ozzy Osbourne.