Long Schooltime Poems
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Inside The Mysterious Enigmatic Fragmentary...
Mortal Mind Of Matthew Scott Harris
ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!
Seedy gobbledygook ergot
visibly argot bubbled, burbled, bustled...forth
yea...give garbled, jangled, warbled shoutout
if ye doth render
mug gadabout totally confounding,
this unfettered voluminous confection
ruff lee in toto as sample
doggone freelance gargon
sublime red rover - misaligned with
twenty first century time
emerging, fishtailing, kvetching,
slithering, whipsawing
during springtime
thaw - oozing out primordial slime,
schlepping aboard bissel mishuga train
while kibitizing with longfellow
ghost hosts Bartleby,
thee Herman Hermits,
and Stray Cats caterwauling
scrivener circumlocution showtime
evidences troubadour prima facie
tremendous struggle rustling rational rapport,
ruminating, citing his dismal schooltime
track record muddled, and hence
questing to cobble a rhyme
distilling, harvesting, and
leaching (out pulpy, knotty,
Max Headroom Ancien regime
filmy... gray matter) in realtime,
while strains of Ragtime echo
from late nineteenth century
tin pan alley, nsync, linkedin
cubist, dadaist, existentialist...
mine poetic melange jerry rigs
flashes random discordant phrases
kickstarting hotmail...faintly
analogous to processing quicklime
mucking with abstract alphabetic
mire ranks as playtime
forging whimsical tactical trippy thoughts,
nursing eternal idealistic Earthly peacetime,
worrying away looming mortality,
noshing post death as pastime,
welcomes input and alien abduction – ME,
mine "FAKE" existence, sans charade,
facade, masquerade onetime pantomime,
no second act allowed, nor
revising questionable tour de force
I claim NO pièce de résistance, nor overtime,
asper waning game
of thrown away Life
approaches nighttime haven
soon...forever rest in peace
surrendering requisite burnt offerings,
sans (cremated ashes) - meantime
fete grateful dead
scythe lent hoodlums on warpath
to incite bedlam
postprandial mealtime prayer final -
deathly hallowed gleeful grimace
witnessing successful electroshock therapy
of yours truly emotionally frozen
decades long comatose state
thankfully oblivious, when impending
curtain call signals finis!
The sun beamed through her window, and brightened up the air
When the mornings dim moon faded, she saw stardust everywhere
Her little nose softly whistled, and her eyelids gave a wink
When the lampposts in the garden, had all begun to blink
The sunflowers all popped up their heads, looking tall in all their poses
While the tulips and the daffodils, were mingling with the roses
My child woke up from her sleep, and fed water to the plants
Then she sprinkled stardust on them all, to watch them all wake up and dance
Peeking through my bedroom window, and watching my daughter having so much fun
I had to smile when I saw my child, laughing and waving to the sun
Good-bye she spoke in her meek-quiet voice, I'll see you again, Mr. Sun, real soon
But I have to go to school right now, so please come back this afternoon
So, when schooltime was over, and she was skipping her way back home
The sun popped out to stay with her, so she would not skip back alone
Nor do I feel free
akin to noble savage
(gratis to Jean Jacques Rousseau)
completely unfettered, and able lee
to fend off unseen banshee,
comically swatting for all to see,
though today February Eighth,
2019 quite similar (i.e. dime
a dozen) to many previous twenty
four hour blocks of time,
herewith metering poetic testimony
hashing out another rhyme,
I feel considerably less mindful,
as if complicit in a major crime,
(yes absolutely more remorseful
regarding entire lifetime
of indifference) prime
err rilly linkedin into call lapsed
shoulder shrug, shrink into self, or
other convenient pantomime
schizoid personality disorder diagnosis,
asper this pronounced emotional detachment
more painfully clear climb
ming pyramid of self actualization -
engendered through longtime
therapy in tandem with
half dozen prescription medications
and cathartic, holistic, therapeutic...pastime
writing poems delving into scarred psyche
aftermath years burned by quicklime
writhing, when aware impacted me now
evincing unrepentant blank affect
behavior couched, established, fostered
during in utero stage, characteristics
manifested by full termtime
tidbits shared by parents chime
how my body tensed
like tightly wound coil before schooltime
reinforced destructive coping skills
resident in this older chap
aroused during bedtime
poking, seeping, violating...dreamtime.
It began on a high note
Dreams of a New Frontier
Those dreams were shattered in Texas
In the Fall of the same year
Christmas time was solemn
Before the storm there was the calm
We saw them escalate a war
Sending our young to Vietnam
It was a vibrant time to be alive
A good invasion hit our shore
The British sent their music
Our lives would be changed forever more
The times they were “a changing”
Was it better, was it worse
There was no time for apathy
Was it a blessing or a curse
In June came graduation
The fulfillment of our dreams
The Four Seasons sang about a Rag Doll
We were introduced to the Supremes
Now that our senior year was over
And we would go our separate ways
There remained a bond to hold us
Until our dying days
Some went off to college
Not knowing what’s in store
Almost all would serve their country
Some went off to war.
In late on a late night from a long journey,
Barely in the door
She's telling funny stories of her own misfortunes.
A comedy of errors that harried her homewards.
The young woman who will always be our child
Has the lot of us laughing
When we should be asleep
At things that would've driven others
To fury or despair
But those have no hold on her,
Because bulldogs don't give up -
They just hold on.
So now she's holding on again -
A new grownup
In a too grownup world.
Schooltime over;
Lessons now born from living.
- But that's all right,
Because biting down, holding fast
Is what she does -
She's gonna chew this bone too,
The tough white bone of adulthood,
Down to a pile of fine, digestible dust
She'll make it all her own
The while she works it.