Long Ultimatums Poems
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Sole (and soul) brother waves magic wand (poof)...,
and eldest sister absolved of guilt once and for all
Be happy don't worry
understood how thee feel sorry
for never defending me madam norry
(a real word meaning "woman of honor").
She (mine eldest sibling)
unfairly self burdened with blame
must jettison emotional baggage claim
forsooth (upon her person) pardon I exclaim
courtesy reasonable rhyme typed
within Macbook Pro
and linkedin Lenovo screen frame
now after LXII orbitz round the sun
able, willing and ready to relish game
of life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.
Upbringing gifted me
with older kin named Amelie
Beth Harris (the - hyphen McGeehan)
hashtagged after she pledged troth
said first twixt Boyce and Harriet
donned mantle of protector
trumpeting forewarnings against bullies
lest they verbally and/or physically
assault puny socially withdrawn brother.
Later existence (mine) witnessed unbridled wrath
more'n half my lifetime, a long time ago
hurled at greased lightning speed at yours truly
dealt Matthew Scott Harris
one after another severe psychological blow
courtesy father and mother
caw zing pent up (internalized) rage,
they did viciously crow
and spew expletive laced ultimatums
one direction did flow
buzzfeeding an introverted boy
emotionally and physically he failed to grow
rarely did practice social graces
such as saying "hello"
even mirrored reflection ignored
hated to see his unsightly self
body morphology melded
courtesy anorexia nervosa
(thank dog absent bulimia)
apparent starvation know
body else understood -
odd... even years (née decades) later
I too feel totally clueless, and lo
and behold extremely angry mow
ping with purposelessness
at sabotaged existence (mine)
at upsetting family dynamics status quo
cause ducks never lined up in a row
aptitude to become sufficient unto myself quite slow
which found singular son (before marriage)
unable (NOT unwilling to work though
preference against shoveling sh*t
created toward mom and dad
(both apologetic before their deaths)
yet while livingsocial
triggered no end of woe.
Lemme titillate thee
regarding myself daily soldiering thru breastworks
read out loud to experience where dangerfield lurks
twenty five years a husband unknown marital perks
bachelorhood to die for, cuz warp and weft
courtesy webbed and wedded bliss
incorporates life threatening quirks.
Hazardous beyond belief
analogous crossing a landmine good grief
ensnared yours truly mistaken for Baghdad thief.
Impossible mission to step up pace
when ambling one room to another
footfalls of generic guy approximating brisk,
cuz one misstep could find me flat on back
with damaged spinal disc
worse fate than experiencing
strong arms of law reach out his hands that frisk
old meister wordsmith
merely ventures innocent risk,
yet may as well surrender self to Taliban,
who would willingly whisk
Garden variety Caucasian American bloke
afraid to tread amidst belongings strewn
pell mell outranking rating tornado 5 courtesy
enhanced Fujita Scale
whereat Good Housekeeping ostracized spouse.
As precautionary safeguard, I carry amulet
to ward off ill luck toward life and limb you bet,
especially when gingerly
taking one step after another with lights turned off
owing steadfastness to prayerful debt
intoned toward guardian angel to get
self groping in dark without bifocals
envisioning severely myopic
(blind as a bat generic guy
without spectacles) met
bedded objective where
menagerie of stuffed animals
(albeit Woodstock favorite pseudo pet),
which aforementioned Peanuts character
called warm fuzzy as sobriquet.
The missus bursts out laughing,
whom I damnably scoff at and berate
as I trip head over heels
cursing said spouse ever since first date
at Tex-Mex restaurant
in North Wales, Pennsylvania,
a gut level intuitive sense -
even then our sealed fate
cursed analogously crashing thru Hades gate
antagonistic altercations in actuality
displaced suppressed anger toward parents,
which father and mother (both deceased)
their sole son of did hate
for afflicting psychological trauma
regarding them furiously irate
doling out ultimatums
interestingly enough comfort found
within company of loving mate,
she weaseled compassion
evidenced by poetic prattle I prate,
whereat ye can (of course) highly rate
feedback I eagerly await.
I have given up.
I have texted. I have called. I have left messages. I have taped notes to her front door.
I, I, I, I, I, I…..
This makes it all about you.
Let’s see if we can make it about her.
She does not answer the door when she is sad.
She does not reply to texts when she is down.
When she pushes you away the hardest is when you know she needs your help the most.
Getting angry and mad,
Sending ultimatums and mean missives,
Leaving snotty answering machine messages
Is going to shut her down further, and faster.
This is the worst time to give up.
So let’s go over there and have a loud party on her porch.
Bring lots of friends, make a spectacle of ourselves, laughing and joking.
That might bring her out.
Especially if the police come again.
No rhyme nor reason why
yours truly recalled how
me late mother
(earlier in her fitbit livingsocial years)
non verbally communicated disgust
(insync with audible sigh)
quite often ultimatums
blasting fulminating nauseating
scathing well nigh
she loosed loathing against
grungy looking son (guess who)
futilely escaped wrath of Harriet Khan
clamoring upon rooftop high
offering birds eye view
out of earshot and eyesight aye
catching sunbeams while smiling wry
cowardly lion sought divine intervention
courtesy sheltering sky
acres of shingles I sprawled
these lovely bones did lie
property of garden variety generic guy.
She who helped beget and birth
sole heir inheriting gamut of behavioral quirks
linkedin with many predecessors,
who trod, slunk, roamed...
across planet Earth.
Best bet said present day scribe i.e.
poetic, nonesstablishmentarian, liberal,
jesting, humble, freelance, dilatory bummer
whose hindsight evinced a student dumber
than his classmates wheedled
(as targeted scapegoat) by bullies their flummer
re: entrapped - worse louse than lice
internalized trauma left figurative tread marks
analogous to raging road runner
pressing accelerator pedal of hummer
driven by (an actual person) one Roger Kummerer.
Despite agonizing vicious tongue lashing
against flesh and blood,
which venomous invisible whiplash
never petered out
(even when sundry bloke
got married and gladly left home)
abusive treatment markedly
left appalling, loathing and percolating
ambivalence if though mama passed away
(these last seventeen plus years) wrung
cash crop of poetic endeavors,
albeit resultant lackluster
literary crafted aspirations.
Memory of mom overshadowed
by similar facsimile thereof
think shrieking banshee,
an indelible psychological imprimatur,
I strive to acknowledge
emotional reverberations to date
(May 27th, 2021).
My trademark wordsmith fashioned communiqué
impossible mission to shake off bittersweet feelings
toward once (former) Arthur Murray dance instructor
which fancy footwork synchronized with favorite
debonair handsome young fella (papa)
both flirts buoyant with elan and energy
only thru death will angst become free
interestingly enough hands will clap with glee.
I give you my daisies in silence,
Inside that little bubble
between heaven and earth
“Built only for our love “
That’s always your affirmance.
As you touch my face you call me : my rose,
my little baby orchid .
But roses have thorns , and orchids bloom every so often …
And you laugh when I tell you that I’m none of those
I give you my daisies because that’s what I am
or what I want to be
a pure , simple flower , always composed
even during our terrible storms .
A Daisy bravely looking at the sun ,
eye to eye with a white smile .
I give you my daisies because you are my red star
You claim to burn roses’ petals ,
you claim to starve orchids’ blooms
somehow you caress daisies, what else could you do
I give you my daisies , because they are made to resist heat ,to survive savage droughts
don’t ask me to hide my dry petals from you
If you keep spitting embers
I won’t give you my daisies no more .
Angels altruism all around
Beyond beautiful blessings
Creating, captivating, charming
Determining dreams decorum
Enlightening energy exclusively
Forever feeling freedom’s flow
Growing grace glows gradually
Happiness healing heavenlies
Imagination instilling inspiration
Jasmine jokingly jovial joyousness
Keeping kindness kindled keenly
Love lighting liquid labors lamp
Miracles mystifying mysteries mind
Newness noticing nice, normal naivety
Observing open obsessions obscurities
Praising peaceful presences phenomena
Quietly quivering, quoting quests
Remembering rich, radiant rainwaters
Still, small songbirds soothing serenity
Truths told to testify tremendous types
Understanding united under ultimatums
Vulnerabilities vibrating vehemently
Warm welcomes warranting wishes
Xantheins xeroxed xanthenes xenias
Yesterday’s years, yearnings yielded
Zippiest, zaniest zones zigzagging zealots
Attitude of Gratitude Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
August 26, 2020
Magnanimous Man My Papa – Ha!
Flagrant red hot poker rage
lacerated upon the head of this sole
male offspring, sans he who did
help to sire me, his vitriolic baggage
inflicted like graped shot,
and deployed barrage
also akin to inflicting searing,
menacing, and branding iron wrath
left indelible psychological blockage
insufferable emotional constipation,
wrought wretched state of human bondage
resultant outcome witnessed breakage
of spirit, when hateful scathing verbal damage
invoked, exploded, and bombed mine psyche,
especially during mein late
adolescent, and into latter adult stage,
particularly cuz this anxiety riddled Harris
exhibited no ambition to earn a living wage,
nor maximize on any inherent strengths
thus this then much younger body electric
oscillated with zero voltaic amperage,
which family of origin assemblage
dynamic ratched tension nsync
on par with hotly contesting arbitrage
additionally compounded by
indifference toward parents, a disadvantage
living under their same roof,
mama's and papa's patience
wore thin, second progeny they did disparage
punctuated with ultimatums toward me,
which did nothing to assuage
intolerable passive resistance stance,
thus expletive laced
"midnight lectures" dosage
occurred a bajillion
times per week on average
annihilating my self esteem,
wherein this native son felt
less worthy than bacteriophage
analogous to useless atrophied appendage
yours truly emotional detachment
heck, I may as well have been
ice sill hated in Anchorage,
cuz me negligible care and/or concern
amplified palpable uneasiness, a drainage
in tandem with estrangement fueled umbrage.
Yet another soul taken away.
Another family's loss is great.
Another time tears rolled down this face.
Why won't they realize its purpose and quit making these mistakes
Barely an adult still having child like thoughts
Barely coping with life and all that it's brought
Numbing the emotions is what is sought
But death is all that's caught.
They feel these struggles these days it's so hard to make ends meet
Opportunities are few they can't seem to get on their feet.
They prefer to forget their failures prefer to just sleep
And while attempting to be okay they forget to breathe
They look peaceful like the pain has left
But little do we know they are dangling so close to death
In a minute it's slows to one maybe two or just three breaths
And then....
They are gone right before your eyes
We scream to the heavens begging to know why
Our hearts our souls are devasted as our eyes cry.
Breaking us inside
It takes away our ability to cope
Some choosing the drug some not even knowing it's in their dope.
Killing the same whether or not you know
So little of this drug can end all hope
Listen to me hear what I am saying
If you know they are doing drugs then don't even play
Don't kick them out or push them away
Don't feed their habits but understand their ways
They don't mean to hurt you. No it's not an excuse.
They want to be okay, to be clean but wonder what's the use.
These days are hard even more so for our youth.
The pandemic, desocialization, struggling in work, at home, and in school.
Give them knowledge, give them a reason to hope.
Show them different ways to be okay and to cope.
Don't belittle the addict, don't tie the knot in the rope.
Restore their faith, don't let them turn even more to dope.
Don't whisper accusation
Don't deliver ultimatums
Don't end relations
Don't add to their equations
Be honest, speak up, make your thoughts and feelings quite apparent.
Allow them to show emotions as they scream and rant.
Listen when they say they wish they could stop but feel that they can't.
Don't roll your eyes thinking that they can.
Its dangerous and painful withdrawals, emotionally and physically.
Don't push them away. They will need their family.
And not just financially.
Be patient for they'll recover eventually.
Stop the useless fatalities.
I know you love your mother but
when she gives you these ultimatums
and her ultimatums start to trump my requests
we may have a bit of a problem.
I do not want you to go against your mother.
I want you to explain to her why you sometimes
have to choose me.
Not all the time
but at least on my birthday.
You are the hero of this family.
You have to step up and choose me today.
To show our children how it is done.
So they will understand and respect
that life is about leaving Mommy and Daddy
and choosing your fate.
Teach your mother.
Teach our children.
Teach me.
Choose me.
Slave ships drowning our names in the darkness of so-called “civilized” nations,
A Yalta of vultures: yen, yards, barrels — Africa sold without ever being consulted.
Exegetes in uniform: incense and executions poured into the same holy font,
Césaire cried out; the colonizers counted cocoa, skulls, and schoolbooks.
A kaleidoscope of crimes: kepis, Kalashnikovs, mass graves, leonine contracts.
They spoke of “assimilation”; above all, they sought enslavement without eyewitnesses.
At the heart of slave plantations, the glory of empire carried the putrid stench of the torn holds of slave ships,
A “French Union” whose only true unity was the whip striking scarred backs.
High priests of the Republic, triumphant vocabulary dressing genocide in elegant attire,
Uranium from Niger, monetary ultimatums: an independence controlled by the Nazi bailiffs of the French treasury.
Soldiers without scruples sowing social earthquakes beneath the sacrificed suns of the trenches,
Slaughtered riflemen, traditions slashed apart by racist tribunals too convinced they were illuminating the face of the slaveholding Republic of Enlightenment.
And colonial schools imposed shame: “Speak French if you wish to exist in the garbage bins of assimilation.”
Red rivers of independence fighters reduced to the status of rebels to be pacified,
“Humanist” West: an oxymoron where the Black man remains an object to classify in the encyclopedia of movable property.
Mutilated memory, demonic masks locked behind glass while African mines are privatized,
Africans called “brothers” when they must die for the liberation of the Republic of the Code Noir; “migrants” when they seek merely to breathe beneath the fountains of liberty, equality, and fraternity.
Imperialism clothed in neocolonial garments: interests, influence, Arab, Maghrebi, and Tuareg terrorists as intermediaries — the whip has gone digital in the colonial trading posts,
Our ancestors were not savages: they were simply too dignified to be tamed by negrophobic barbarians haunted by their own existential anxieties.