Long Untenable Poems
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Unadulterated emotional anguish linkedin...
Regarding inconsolable screaming infant
christened Matthew Scott Harris woke
eureka insight about said newborn self,
experiences ultra sensitivity courtesy
loud noises and/or sleep disruption.
I purportedly cried mine
trademark noisy hullabaloo
no matter pallor turned
fifty plus shades of blue
nonstop nary a clue
lovely writhing baby bones
pitiful sight Matthew
eventually, invariably, and ostensibly
slumped into fatigue he brew
utter exhaustion and drew
round the clock few
till helplessness that no hue
man parental unit knew
not remedy only
parental frustration didst ensue,
nein body but mother coaxed xanadu
quickly instinctually, and
dotingly attempted to construe
why "mama's boy" solely
wanted her, she knew
not why, I only permitted
maternal acquiescence to quell grew
absolute zero clue
scant hours earlier yesterday
November 26th, 2019
inexplicable insight shone through
after decades long mystery adieu
reckon unlikely circumcised as Jew,
albeit Unitarian in
later years voluntarily withdrew
attendance basically, I now eschew
contemplative, introspective, and meditative
hodgepodge transcendental spirit chew
wool awareness keenly, profoundly,
and unexpectedly piqued
clear out of the blue
courtesy oppressive wallop true
red hot volcanic rage, a violent brew
within walls of b44 deathstill milieu
expressed in most recent previous poem,
previous poem titled Even if yours truly
could repeat every grade...
where I maintain hermitage milieu
experiencing violent ready to slew
myself and/or spouse, but... whew
blinding, deafening, frothing...
heaving, jackknifing lacerating
as iterated to you
Fred Flintstone's catchphrase,
he hightailed jabbering yabadabadoo
lest his fate witness him
serving as cannibal stew
unbearable, unmanageable, untenable...
eventually subsided without
limp or lifeless body ignoble deed
yours truly did eschew.
I went down to the shore one day to sun and frolic and watch people play. There at a tidal pool a horseshoe crab did lay. With my foot I tapped his shell then came a shout out what the hell!
Can't you tell I'm in deep contemplation about my untenable situation.
The tide is out and here I be awaiting my trip to eternity so let me be.
No,no I exclaimed let me attempt your life to regain
I thank you sir I do indeed but you can not reverse what nature has decreed .
So return to your home and I to mine . Perhaps we would have been friends if we met in another time. When at home and warming by your fire just remember a horseshoe crab is not a crab at all but related to a spider.
No twilight concerto to sway not yet
as zigzag street lights pound upon
heavy fog clutching iced flakes on rooftops
like hushed matte from night's gale
pouring bitter ovules to a past in need of relief.
While in her vein is a constant downpour
of Bach's untenable requiem
as hands pound on ivory keys,
immersing in the fever of the moment
until fingers carve a solemn journey
into wiry trails of insolent rain.
How she summons the goddess of morn
to cure thistles of wait and pang,
sifting each beat, each note without interludes
until this child- woman shifts her face against breezes,
tasting madness rawness on lapping winds…
In disheveled lingering she cuddles
unspoken words, her own song
on panels of cut-glass-------with acceptance
the world could still breathe despite a torment:
just then...in a twirl of air's cadence
the night shuts off.
.............
1/18/2016
Jamie Pan's How Long Can A Poetry Go
This poetic attempt is a cross between existential expression
and stream of consciousness technique. The former highlights
contemporary man's response to anguish, isolation,uncertainty
of life in the midst of change.Thus, this poet explores
the outpouring born from inner annihilation-- being
absent from the self- YET allowing space to exhale for a new
awareness to surface.
Dovetailing this language of despair to the stream-of consciousness
technique allows the spontaneous, raw float of thoughts without
the pleasure of edit, like journaling and ' writing down the bones.'
I feel that literary devices ( from metaphors, enjambment to alliteration)
come into play , well, quite instinctively.
In my creative writing class as a college professor, I ask my students
to write with their less dominant hand to discover the 'heart of the matter.'
Then again, that's beside the point. This author will leave this piece to assault your senses, and then, softly break all defenses. Thanks!
Where does it lead, this path I follow?
I look back. So many twists and turns,
Such a long, way, some parts smooth as sand,
others strewn with pebbles and rocks,
even seemingly insurmountable boulders.
Yet, here I am, the hurdles in every case
somehow in the past, somehow overcome.
The path ahead of me is much shorter,
and where it is going I cannot know.
It bends away from me, beyond my sight,
each day a gift for which to be grateful,
as time is fleeting and who knows the length
of this phase of existence called life
or what is to become of us after that?
Surely there are no mansions in the sky
to accommodate all of the souls passed on.
Does the soul go on into some existence,
the nature of which we, as humans, are
completely incapable of comprehending?
Does the soul, at the instant of death,
pass into a baby just being conceived,
thus living an endless round of human lives?
Or, as some think, is death simply the end.
That answer is untenable for me.
Exactly what is beyond, I do not know,
but I feel strongly that the soul does live on,
and, for some reason, it does matter
what kind of life we have led here on earth.
My handful of dust -
and your fleeting glimpse -
stir billion starflakes at night -
swirling insanely
intrepidly
in dissonance and delight -
shadows of perpetuity
gnawing, growling, gnarling malign
glimmering incandescently
in whispers of moonlight and brine
Awake
screams the sun, gold untenable,
Awake
bursts intention, alone,
Here, here
breathes essence, indelible,
and Renders across the bone -
Give me the spite and the daring -
break me away to the wild -
my life and my time, try Dissevering
with tendrils of passion beguiled -
hold heed the time pass irrevelance
my soul in a bottle of clay
that none of your burning ambivalence
can suffer to.. melt away
reaching for glorious nothing -
swirling across the void -
in shingles of consummation
revivified and -
destroyed -
culprit -
redemption -
oblivion -
imprint is torn apart -
and hope shall have no dominion
in an impregnable heart -
My handful of dust - and your fleeting glimpse -
A soul now dismembered complete -
And universe - fervid with entropy -
Charred palpable - and - indistinct...
Ice say... water we dew wing to planet Earth?
Tis appalling *****sapiens legacy,
the future survival of species can ill afford
hence we must not dodge and dart away,
but heed urgent call to arms decree fiat,
lest vast gamut of flora and fauna
deprived their rightful respect
courtesy ewe buick wit us ram
me bipedal hominids wresting
driver's seat and steering fate
all species unfairly doomed
analogous to horse and buggy
only far worse, whereat naked ape
that nasty short tempered and brutish
beast finagled, hijacked, besotted,
usurped... sacred covenant taurus
once illustrious precious habitats
escorted to shreds
innocent plants and animals, we
signalled anonymous poetic mouthpiece,
cuz world wide webbed tapestry
irreparably tattered, thus swiftly tailored
measures beg critters to needle
arrogantly depraved, galling humans
violating, tormenting, ruining...
basket of deplorables mankind
violently, obnoxiously, indiscriminately...
destroying carte blanche - absolute
zero guilt whittling, vaporizing,
uglifying, trampling, slashing, razing,
quashing, paving, oppressing,
eradicating, devaluing, burning...
once upon a time edenic oblate spheroid
now crowded house overpopulated
teeming billions wantonly annihilate
at expense of avast extinction
to sustain global industrialization
kickstarting lamentable machinations
spindling, fondling, mutilating
permanently desecrating scarring
wreaking havoc rendering uber
terrestrial plain untenable
massacring, incapacitating Gaia,
she unable to shuck off yoked aggressive
lymphatic, metastatic, narcissistic...
asphyxiation, choking, eradication
biological diversity flummoxed
hounded, jackknifed, liquidated
promulgating me, no matter futile
effort to appeal against doom
fervent clemency against
effrontery, queasy temerity...
mercilessly rained down pell mell
upon inimitable mother nature
unspeakable, unpardonable, unforgivable...
despicable, horrible, ineradicable... demise
affecting every living organism.
Pronounced side effect upon my dreams...
courtesy Fluoxetine hydrochloride
Fluoxetine Hcl (C17H18F3NO·HCl)
known as Selective Serotonin
Reuptake Inhibitor (SSRI),
especially prescribed to treat
depression, panic disorder,
and obsessive-compulsive disorder
the above symptoms
profoundly experienced by yours truly
said prescription medication
seriously impacts sleep (mine).
Debilitating panic attacks
wrought (particularly years gone by)
physiological displeasures chiefly constituting
vertigo, racing heart, nausea,
excessive perspiration, adrenaline
coursing thru body,
whereby Prozac (brand name regarding
aforementioned synthesized chemical)
ameliorated unbearable, unmanageable, untenable...
earth-shaking, devastating,
and crushing manifestations
disabling, exhausting, jackknifing... functionality
hijacking life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.
Essentially yours truly experiences
dilemma analogous to sleep deprivation,
cuz ofttimes upon arising,
I feel utterly tuckered out, exhausted, bushed...
thus zapped body, mind and spirit
ill suited to physical,
mental or spiritual endeavor
subsequently lovely bones (mine)
(pine to join grateful dead)
rather than feebly kickstart
lame effort to write, read or meditate.
Thus respecting Sir Isaac
Newton's first law of motion
a (human) body at rest
inertia keeps said entity at rest.
Interestingly enough as
daylight doth wax and wane
casting dark shadows upon urbane
countenance buzzfeeding hidden reservoir
exerting estimable energy
decreasing arduous strain
therefore purposefulness,
I seek renewable resource to imbue
garden variety generic
doubting thomas and ordain
him (i.e. me) with spontaneous
magnificent grandiloquent enlightenment
ala Orson Welles Citizen Kane
laughable comparison linkedin
with story extraordinaire quite insane
September 4th, 2020 insight one can gain
perchance even coaxing passable poem
from deep within Matthew Scott Harris' brain.
POEM TO RENEE, MASTER HEALER
Perfectly proportioned Greek goddess
except her philosophies were
somewhat eastern
or eternal
Gold locks alight
magical medicine woman
aflame with Sakara heat
feeds us walnuts
wrapped in dates
Blond lashes thick as a
witches broom
crown holding
vine veins entwined
Serpent spirited
she blows crimson notes
into our stretched out
poignant palms
Dissolve untenable
unfathomable fears !
dissipate sorrows of souls…
silver wing tips of nightingales
come, come, pierce skin
fly far with Masters and
angels into Olympus
of open oracles
Remember Power, balance
peace, ChristLight
Mother Mary, ease
Michael and Chamuel
clapped clanging away
sores sliced ignorance
opened organs
spun wheels
Too urgent, so urgent
forgetting Love is
patient
I did not know
her time was
very near
I am mourning
My Beloved Master
©ghairodanielspoetry&song2000
Divisive, abusive, hollow and torn,
Our politics broken through anger and scorn,
More pointing of fingers, of turning one's back,
Is this the new norm, our thorny new track?
What happened to thinking before all those tweets,
Like manicured gardens torn up by rough cleats,
The skill of debate, of viewing both sides,
Bridging that gap from all which divides?
Conviction and Passion bedfellows at times,
Are often the cause of unspeakable crimes,
Opinions do matter but where the heart rules
Indiscriminately steals the most precious of tools.
Reason and empathy, knowledge and tact,
Not impulse and odium and that's a firm fact;
One road may be windy, the other dead straight,
But both may yet lead to the very same gate.
A viewpoint reminds of an infant just born,
It develops and thrives if loved not forlorn,
Tended and taught by the many not few,
For that kernel of light to shine brightly through.
Balanced and just, open to thought,
Opinions conceived and not merely taught,
An untenable vision, an improbable dream?
It takes but the thinnest of wedges to open a seam.
Corralled in Plato’s cave,
groupies of untenable shadows,
silenced their intuitions to the smoke and other sighs.
Jamaica’s capital hosted a convention
giving an ever-leaving coward’s play a stage,
now his work is done.
Senior partner and the oldest liar —
the younger roo’s handler —
watches from his own Whitman’s tower;
one man walking past the fire,
brave enough to look at the sun,
his integrity can see behind it.
Hate moved a biased hand against him,
but the truth is like The Cross,
and vanity will always seek a mirror.
Beyond any conviction,
immutable.
Forever keeping themselves,
beautiful.
----------------------------------------
Written: 05.01.20 – 05.03.20
Inspired by the bravery, intellectual honesty and integrity of my friend Mark Koplin.