Long Unmanageable Poems
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on her lawn
four pink plastic flamingos
peak above a March snowbank
twisted forms caught in forlorn evasion
beak-body contortions like wrestlers resilient
in pretzel formation
unmanageable remnants of warmer days
denied the dignity of upright
plastic muck ups, a nostalgic weep of summer
wishing a solar Florida footing
their caught spirit of iced- playfulness
a pink flamboyance
teasing an icy surface
four plastic birds, frozen status
kitsch defensive
misplaced images like on-line love
wing swept longing
to flee this barren snowbank
nudging a tardy spring's erosion
with its courtship fringes
Poem posted April 13, 2023
Sure like to share my innermost thoughts
Haven't yet found where they're hidden
Searched and searched but really no luck
Gonna put out a Lost Data bulletin
Sure they were there the last time I checked
But that was way back in my teens
At some point between back then and now
They're totally missing it seems
Other stuff's missing like my wavy black hair
It once was my crowning glory
It's now really thin and getting thinner
It's white for which I'm quite sorry
Heard some people age rather gracefully
That ain't the case with yours truly
As well as thin and white with some cooties
It's really unmanageable and unruly
Should have expected this turn of events
From a handsome young fellow to this
So I've had to accept I'm less of a charmer
Here's a big boohoo and a hiss!
© Jack Ellison 2015
Most of my Lix spittle existence
found me figuratively
(primarily academically) adrift,
and malfunctioning blinker
analogous to a boat with
out an ankh (caws
away) aimlessly bobbing -
and drowning akin
to a besotted drinker
just out of rest to be
rescued by Mister Rinker
sea ming lee without
any hook, line and sinker
despite being gifted with
an above average thinker
from without, where two
myopic ocular
orbs did winker.
All thru academia
just barely passing grades
metaphorically
suffered from anemia,
and at my nadir,
thy prepubescent psyche
plummeted lovely bones
into grave state,
sans anorexia minus bulimia
mental health also linkedin
shot thru through with
healthy dose of dysthymia
cap (tinned em man hint mettle)
kept awake with insomnia
peppering cerebral
cortex with monomania
buzzfeed ding somnambulant
zombified condition
with a burning
desire toward pyromania
nsync with unmanageable
raging (red dee
and bull lush) testosterone
spawning satyromania
the above particularly
accentuated, and cresting
with accursed
triskaidekaphobia
most agonizing, when
orbitz around Earth
demarcated ten plus
on a Friday the thirteenth,
hence death be not proud
sought after utopia
pleading, longing, and hooping
if I Willoughby
able to sprinkle
cremated ashes across Xenia.
Streams of purple flow on your skin,
While waves of white stamp your smile,
And your top is a choppy ocean of love,
An unmanageable free sort of wild,
Then you create a beautiful soft and a smooth,
You create a bubble so clear,
You create a tender all over my skin,
With your perfectly colourful sphere,
And the fragrance you leave, aroma of pure,
The perfume of absolute clean,
Leaves all of me feeling honestly new,
Like a candle lit night of serene.
You’re my perfection of soap, my most intimate block,
My closest to being a flower,
That I hold close to me, my most cherished of moments,
Whenever I’m having a shower.
Like ghosts in my pockets, weighing me down,
burdens echoing with quiet sorrow,
coiling tight around the soul in silent pain.
Some weights like umbrellas cast aside after storms,
others iron shackles, rusted, locked in permanence—
all carried unseen, but deeply felt.
Knots in the spine, scars engraved on the mind,
tangled threads, riotous roots of clinging shadows—
held tight, wrapped in sorrow and guilt.
The weight of unspoken words,
unfinished tasks, unkept promises,
and unmanageable memories—
all soaked deep in regret.
Letting go is not an option
when remorse is all you have,
and anguish your only friend.
When I first started this walk, the weight was bearable.
Even as it grew, it was all understandable.
Except after a point, it became unmanageable,
It shook like a wild animal.
But still I planted the next foot, with an intent intangible
And when I fell, I thought it would crush me.
And for a while it did... It came to hush me.
But then I realized my hand was free,
And I felt the blood rush into me.
I grabbed the weight piece by piece, examining each one thoroughly.
And when my other hand was free, My speed grew intensely.
Though with this speed, I still inspected,
... I must know how each piece is connected.
The heaviest piece... I could barely move,
It weighed down my heart... So I felt every groove.
I found a desire I can no longer soothe.
A true, connected Love, with no need to prove.
This piece more than just rested on my heart,
...Its been tethered to it from the start.
Its woven with such beauty, I've seen it as art.
Now its sown so deep, to remove it would tear me apart.
At least after this there will be no doubt
For the weight I carry, and what its about.
I can still remember when the hush fell,
And ever since then Ive been able to tell,
What weighs me down & so I try not to dwell.
Whenever I do, I can feel my heart swell.
If I linger too long it never goes well.
But I carry my weight with acceptance now.
I know who I am & What ill allow.
I just sincerely hope that I can find,
Someone who's grounded, Someone who's kind.
Someone to whom their weight is not blind.
So we that can walk Hand in Hand.
Right to the end... Until neither can stand.
Suribachi
At the base of Suribachi,
Within reach of the beach,
The mountain towers as I shrink
Into guts of hate—malignant,
With a rifle and bayonet and grenades
And murdering hands
To choke the existence
Out of living things.
They all looked the same to me,
Refusing to quit—
Hating more than me,
If that’s possible to believe.
I loathed the air to breathe.
My lips spewed spit.
I swore I would survive,
Executing orders efficiently.
I question humanity and my sanity.
Victory over Japan (V-J Day),
And I feel weak on my feet—unsteady.
On that day when we attacked Iwo Jima,
I felt strong—brave.
So why do I return?
The memories are unpleasant,
My conscience unmanageable,
And my soul unreprieved.
The flag appears smaller
And the mountain lower
On this waterless sulfur island
In the middle of nowhere;
And the beach desolate,
With no one running for cover.
My heart died on Iwo Jima,
And my body lives to tell the story.
***
Notes:
1 Battle of Iwo Jima: The ”Battle of Iwo Jima” took place between the combined American forces of the United States Marine Corps (USMC) and the United States Navy (USN) against the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA) during World War II (1939–1945) from February 19, 1945, to March 26, 1945. The Americans were victorious (V-J Day: Victory over Japan).
2 Casualties: U.S.A. 6,821 dead, 19,217 wounded; Japanese 17,845 to 18,375 dead and/or missing, 216 taken prisoner and 3,000 in hiding.
3 The memorial is to the flag-raising during the Battle of Iwo Jima on top of Mount Suribachi. It reads:
"Among the Americans who served on Iwo Jima, uncommon valor was a common virtue."—Nimitz.
Dedicated to those who fought here by the Island Command AGF. Erected by the 31st USNCB. Old Glory was raised on this site 23 February 1945 by members of the Second Battalion, 28th Regiment, Fifth Marine Division.
How unappealing... the missus went bananas
courtesy hurling mandarin oranges.
Yes quite juvenile
unladylike childlike behaviour,
mine wife oft times doth display,
I do not deplore
yours truly reckons
tis futile effort causing furore
aye attest bull
in china shop incorrigible hardcore
exhibited by spouse
out of bounds antics bon jour
earlier within marriage
shenanigans twas the stuff
back in the day
sparking altercations, haint no lore
regarding wedded bliss
muddle aged doozy storied
married couple expressing
mutual love nevermore
did deux disparate
birds of a feather flock together
espousing total mortal kombat
(with looming fruity weapon
of mass destruction
living below poverty dirt poor
surviving (barely) hand to mouth
unable to afford
top of line high grade
clean atomic bombs rapport
re: ruining our reputation
as hoity toity main liners
portraying child's play
conflicts in East/West Timor
almost annihilating each other
i.e. zee Harris family
plus well nigh turning
planet Earth into vapour.
Sober realization of brinksmanship
brought now auld
geezers (defanged & harmless)
flinging foodstuffs cold
and/or frozen leftovers
(carbon dated), petrified extolled
as delicacy among Neanderthals,
who would value and
cherish fruit lobbed as
love's labour's lost more precious
(as a physical expression of affection)
more so than fine spun gold
thee rented man cave serves
atavistic trait hard rock cafe
functions as pleasant reminder,
where one percent genetic
stock originated (think noggin
rock hard iron maiden mold).
Backtrack to years spanning 2000-2010
wen furious red hot poker rage
twas unmanageable when living
under duress within Penn Valley
even tranquilizers could not assuage
harkening back when yours truly
under threat courtesy battle ax
and her henchwomen,
which matriarch took immediate dislike,
née rabid (foaming
at the mouth loathing)
towards yours truly
them days outright state
of undeclared warfare
found fury within me
exceeding the wrath of Kong!
Thank dog, I mellowed since then
gratuity prescription medication.
The day we lost our first baby
An unforgettable day that was crazy
We had so much excitement
Looking forward to the challenge and commitment
We had magazines, books, anything we could
Making sure we knew and understood
It was a special time, hearts brimmed with happiness
It all changed in instantaneous
We do everything right to keep our little one safe
We felt her soul and imagined her face
It was all for naught as she passed over
No time for us to have closure
A long day in the hospital followed
A tough hard pill that we swallowed
Our little bundle of hope was gone
Only the start of that day was undergone
In our desperation and grief
Sat a person who was a thief
The monster in law took our sorrow
To do something cruel and hollow
We couldn’t grieve our little one
Because her war on cruelty had just begun
She tried to get her committed
Our pain made her livid
So she did something unimaginable
The grief and loss so unmanageable
Hours after the most horrific thing
It should of been over and able to sing
The callousness towards her own daughter
Brings my eyes to water
I broke her out of the hospital room
Not letting that poison was witch consume
She spread her lies saying the baby wasn’t real
Despite being witness to the ordeal
She is a narcissist who commands attention
A disgusting person beyond comprehension
This was the day I knew monsters existed
Beyond my own family that’s twisted
Loosing a baby broke us in many ways
Grief hit by many delays
The anger for a time was uncontrollable
As well as being inconsolable
This is why this day is scarred in my brain
And can never forgive this women again
I can feel silence cursing my ecstatic moments!
Alienating my soul from assembly of love,
Driving me deep to the bleak countryside
To be entertained by untamed minds
Feeding on wandering spirits
Trapped without dignified souvenirs,
With secrets manipulating their miseries
As they roam within cryptic circles
Coming alive to realize, that…
Silence is a vicious force,
That holds folks within hollowness,
Resembling souls caged in the wilderness,
Senses colliding inside alien terrain,
Sorrow flipping its wings,
With nerves tingling unmanageable
Making one feel awful and disgusting
Mystic images floating in one’s thoughts.
Past judgements revolting,
Stretching the chasm between one and his heart,
To sense dark days coming down,
Fearing if demons are becoming victorious,
While hoping for humanitarian gesture,
To cure infinite sleepless nights,
Unlock doors for lone adventurous voyage…
A chance to chase plaguing solo dreams,
Grasp the journey of self-discovery!
To unplug silence tunes,
That could aid me seek life sailing through the light,
To reveal my presence with fresh mandate,
And experience moment of glorious amelioration
Feeling I’m back home where I belong.