Long Unavoidably Poems
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Lately i've been thinking
Am i blue or am i pink
Am i living out this life in real time
Or merely following the highlights
Can i or could have indeed done
anything different
Made better choices gone right
instead of left
Or is it and was it all predestined
And i just a passenger or guide
Here is where i am
Where i was simply unavoidably
meant to be
Until my clock expires and so do i
Not a second more or less to buy
Where i stand is where i die
Lately i've been thinking
I think to much
Wishing what limited time
i have away
Complaining rather than
being grateful and relishing
All the thing's i am bound to miss
Thing's i wish i should and could
have done
But put off in favour of doing
nothing of consequence
Worthy of a single memory or
anecdote to last me or keep
me company for eternity
If someone was in death to ask
THE COFFER
through the threshold
carried by the wind
a summer skirt below my knees
a request to enter with a sales brochure
an invitation to pitch perfume and jewelry
unbeknownst she’s decorated
her parlor space daring a drop-dead stare
the heaviness of dust, that hides my eyes
from any other prize my sale unavoidably detained
the coffer falls out of time and space
not unlike H.G. Wells time machine
the end of the world might have come
when one sees stars angularity
and the sun splashing in one’s eyes
forthwith, the ejection of a breath-holders breath
a sinking emotion of a pilot’s imminent death
but this darling of the skies survived
to let in this down-to-earth Avon rep
2/28/2019
*Coffer used more as an expression of a treasure
found in my eyes as I spy this pilot’s ejection seat
*** MUSINGS ***
I have grown old,
thankfully,
dragging along all my ailments,
unavoidably, it seems, but endured ~ and
graced by the frequent
florets of wisdom
adorning the rounds of circumspect musings
— those streams of sub-conscious pondering —
which then course (perhaps too much)
into my rambling soeech —
and occasionally my babbling on about dreams —
throughout whose passages, I have found
I believe
in dimensions upon dimensions of reality
wherein our thick, surrounding present
come
the symbols; geatures; motions; keys; spirits
and intuited messages —
meant to expand
any narrow notice of this life.
————————————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/18/2023
Thanks be to God
A heavy heart this papa doth air
signals necessary pang...
this father must bear
though...with muted pomp
and circumstances I cheer
stunning transformation unbelievable,
sans thee as youngest daughter
doth commensurately commandeer
her life by the figurative horns buck haws
self reliance mandatory to attain
indomitable survival deer
to push comfort zones she
lucked out with genetics
that didst electioneer
despite inherent trepidation and fear,
she (beloved, emboldened,
invincible, et cetera) progeny
acquiring, developing, and
possessing radiant flair,
whose sunny countenance
brilliant blinding glare
akin to an angelic spirit hooh did hare
kin profuse joie de vivre inhere
within hermetically sealed armor,
asper this "FAKE" junketeer,
where parting with bittersweet
sorrow tugs this longhair
dada, smote by whirlwind visit,
and now oppressive pronounced absence
more painful greater than hiatus near
four years ago, when venturing ala pioneer
(with just sixteen orbits
under your Kuiper Belt), ye yearned to rear
up despite congenital
(high functioning autism) diagnosis
you launched unlimited sky rocketeer
initially requiring parental consent
as dreams tease your fancy
over the rainbow somewhere
reverentially obliged, essentially,
dauntlessly and courageously climbing stair
weigh to heaven as thee define
ultimate goal, bon voyage unavoidably tear
ring at this being, unbear
rubble, who helped beget thee, yet...
cannot do otherwise but
abide by law of nature...unfair
for birth parents to experience unbear
hubble sadness, though starkly oh ware
precious offspring must take flight...
argh grievous heartache until...
sands of time mark many a year!
No acknowledgement could be
commensurate nar e'er
equivalent to countless years (scores of orbitz
of unexplored wonder) – left...
(with millstones around neck)
to atrophy on severe truncated
limb mitts, now cause
for silent lachrymose as this
brother doth brook a wake
his pained self actualization
(particularly predicated on
decade number six
unavoidably approaching) uptake
analogous to 2001 A Space Odyssey,
when closing scene
of the film - image of embryonic
"Starchild" left a slake
king unshakable reverberation
Also Sprach Zarathustra
echoing in me noggin since
opening soundtrack did quake
of a much younger self, when seeing
the movie did overtake
puzzlement until I read the book
"aha" awareness did make
that minor mystery resolved, and
now childhood's end keepsake
recalled as the time thy vulnerable
psychological state did intake
pelting asteroid storm cratering a boy
who shied away, to forsake
growing up, and now haunted (akin
to ghost of Marley) not "FAKE"
shackled to an un freed spirit, that
got squelched as if a sudden brake
got jammed propelling this then puny
body electric...now doth ache.
I can sense your impatience...
While yours truly (me)
doth strives to maintain
comfortably seated
closed eye meditative pose
mine skinny sea thru legs
(mere fo' shaw
by George spindleshanks) outstretched,
(cuz Lotus position impossible mission -
would warrant emergency circumstance
leaving stalwart fellow
as permanent paraplegic)
even crossed legs painstaking ordeal),
nevertheless arms draped limply
and/or tucked under
respective knobby knee
herewith barely audible sighs
Ahab boomerang reverberating sound
can be faintly yet clearly heard
courtesy thee self trained
ventriloquist missus
indicating slightly perturbed air
immediately disrupting mine ascent
into transcendent state,
which self induced
light quasi hypnotic trance
doomed to suffer blistering defeat
despite best guru vee college try
subjected to additional
pronounced relentless interruptions
unavoidably eventually experiences
heavy set bodily mass
loosing violent figurative waters
witnessing severe mattress flexion
testing material strength
jackknifing irksome husband
precariously rocking zen
rolling poor buoy to and fro,
hither and yon
him sternly clinging
against steep odds
tossing last raft of lifeline
before pitching the
dreadfully knotted sir into limbo
challenging laws of physics
re: offsetting his center of gravity
think skiff madly scrambling
barreling, keeling, tipping over
analogous to bobbing
rickety weatherbeaten hulk
landing headfirst upon wooden floor,
where ohm man hiss expletives
immediately supplanting
formerly invoked mantra.
‘Taties and carrots and onions
All have their own natural skin
So why do most of the suppliers
Use plastic bags to pack them in,
Either the fragile brittle type
That bursts all over the floor
Or the stretchy greasy oily sort
That resist for evermore,
Evading each attempt until
They grudgingly finally split
Just before the onset of
A near fatal apoplectic fit.
Meat is sold in indestructible packs
With film top supposedly able to peel
But unfortunately all seem to have
An equally indestructible seal.
The advent of plastic packaging
Has become one of the banes of life
Normally requiring heated resort
To hacking with scissors or knife.
Are they super human, these designers
Or is each just a malicious little rat
Extracting satisfaction from inventing
Such useless products as that
They say us oldies don’t recycle
They don’t seem to understand
In our younger days we didn’t
Contaminate many acres of land.
We took our own shopping bags
Used paper and glass to pack
Bought our milk in bottles
And sent all the empties back
If there is an after life I hope
It is made unavoidably obligatory
That every packaging designer
Suffer eons in purgatory,
And in the cause of justice those
Whose lives they’ve made so drear
Be allowed to sit and watch and,
Maybe, cheer and shout and jeer.
A dark secret I feel tempted to unfold
and the legacy of truth I'm bound to uphold
Ladies and gentlemen, let us view through this wicked universal kaleidoscope
and uncover the secrets of leadership as they try to sabotage all hopes
Many have been paradigms and have given us an insight on this dirty game of burlesque
This mode of governance on an irony note is starting to look all picturesque
My vision is blurry, I can see myself sinking in an ancient tunnel of Romanesque architecture
We need urgent help or else, the people will all become pyromaniacs
as they are fed up with this unjust life of quietism
We all get up and try to fight for our rights
unfortunately, we are mired in a quagmire of morass.
Here we are, struggling to escape and these wicked rulers send upon our spines a quake
that is unavoidably causing us to quaff our very own sweat
It is the survival of the weakest!
The strong ones meant to fight for us are devastatingly collapsing
Our leaders watch aloof from the comfort of their scrapers
they are feeling schadenfreude and on the side of their lips is an enormous grin of contentment.
"We are sinking,help!"
"Utter another word and you will all be dead!"
Hunger is getting the better of us, they seem elated with our situation until BOOM!
We are back on the solid ground and on our two feet again
Doom shall befall them as we shall put to an end this selfish reign
At first we complained of aristocracy
and then to us was brought gerontocracy
now we shall not practice anarchy
we shall not tolerate monarchy
nor shall we accept oligarchy
we are fed up with this democracy and all in its entirety.
It is now our realm,we shall rise to take this country to the ultimate attainable height
for this realm I forsee an explicit sight
darkness shall disappear and upon us will shine an unfading light
let's do this together, with determination,grit and might!
Peter Pan Syndrome the most
accurate way to summarize
psychological mindset of yours truly,
particularly as a boy with brown eyes,
who did NOT holistically acclimatize
himself with peers, which insecurity
latched deadbolt draw
bridge guaranteeing Harris
parasite to cannibalize
(figuratively), sans rip
pull sieve flesh eating das guise
nanobot, while clinging with dear life
to mother's apron strings, no surprize
unavoidably, predictably, inevitably,
trauma did successfully burglarize
(more serious than Watergate)
rendering this withdrawn, small size
passive, and docile pipsqueak
human punching bag to other guys,
one puny slip shape lad's bodily statecraft
always ready to capsize
silently suffering lifetime, threatening
afflictions, harming easy target
inculcating aghast fear to socialize
compounded by stature quite undersize
additionally afflicted with minor defect
submucous cleft palate did compromise
vocalization with severe nasality
(iterated previously other poems), where
bullies did zero Kamikaze like to criticize
relentlessly, an ideal
defenceless, friendless,
and helpless "scapegoat" booby prize
scared kid, who stood
stock still cowering in an agonize
zing posture, while my whole felt as if tied
into gordian knot as
"hoodlums" did gleefully antagonize,
yet never confided hostile treatment
to either parent, I wanted to disappear
and DIE, hence escapist wishes aye did fantasize!
While Shuttered Up Inside... ©ozy
Snug Air Conditioned Demesne...
Analogous to my boyhood
cosseted and bereft, I assay
to poetically elucidate how majority
of mine years found me
deft keeping danger at bay
only thru the pour substitute
of my imagination
remaining safe within the causeway
of a quasi Norman Rockwell picturesque
unblemished near utopian day,
where trumped up "FAKE" danger
stoked courtesy of
anticipatory anxiety didst essay
when pinhead size
pores faux stressed
every epidermal square inch
populating skin oozing perspiration
along I-59 pro Roman
lix spittle sweaty freeway
precipitated, via illusory mailer daemons
unavoidably pitching me
into an inescapable fray
unlike late twenty somethings
(Jay Austin and Lauren Geoghegan,
whose cruel fate
at the hands of Isis militants
published online by Irish Times),
evinced carpe diem
existential Great Gatsby
live life to the fullest
created an extraordinary journey
(now forever immortalized as
daring adventurist trekkers)
with ample horseplay
deliberately, egregiously, fanatically
and wantonly killed,
when purely exalting in zest
promulgated by indomitable spirit
found me choked up,
a baby boomer i.e. west
tern civilized married bloke,
who opted to die vest
away from blatant uncertainty
never daring to experience unrest
outside a severely circumscribed perimeter,
exempt from a life
and death litmus test,
where very little harm extant,
when taking repast or rest
only ushering, venturing,
and taking, sans
quotidian cerebral quest
ensconced within four walls
without nary a pest
except...pet peeves of mine
within psyche built a nest,
nonetheless hounded by many a vicious beast
whose predatory cannibalistic feast
comprises thine psychological state greased
with until mortality expires,
asper being temporarily lend leased.