Long Untested Poems
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Methinks the here
to fore purposeful inclusion
of key word "babysitter"
a slight oversight describing
residents at Highland Manor
(a particularly nagging omission
in previous epistle to detail,
how flat screen televisions
constant blaring subdue
said majority of tenants),
whereat this emphatic
writer, (a penny pinching hitter)
susceptible to miss
out oomph pa, I
(a poetic critter)
will now intend to convey
without recourse to:
instagram, snap
chat, or twitter
thus, this quasi
appended verse
attempts to avoid
communicating disappointment,
asper unfulfilled
childhood, adolescent, or
young adult jitter
ring circumstances found
me tubby a quitter,
now as an aging bummer
with decreasing glitter,
I aver feeling litter
ally somewhat bitter
sweet asper those
figuratively untasted,
untested, and
untoasted fritter
(comfort zone
expanding challenges,
now bugging me
psyche) with jitter
re: ness, cuz yours
truly denied, deprived,
and disallowed himself
tubby a more vibrant
Matthew Scott Harris
to get distilled
from je nais se quois
crucible of life,
hence omitting,
sidestepping (like do si do),
and skipping tummy
loo, viz fuel
joie de vivre injecting
more verve
into what thyself
subsequently evolved into
a staid staind and dire
strait tinned existence,
but no pitter
patter pity please toward,
this present day
pearl jam knitter
of (senseless, listless,
and aimless)
verse as this human
specimen racks up years
as an aging orbiter
round mister sun.
There seems to be a trend these days,
an obsession with novelty,
and like most bad things of this age
it is traced back to the sixties,
at least the latest form of it,
for in truth, it’s always plagued us,
I’m talking about those who jump
on the newest and latest cause.
It’s really kind of a fetish,
this whole-hog embrace of the new,
that newer is always better,
too many accept this as true.
Whether they call themselves ‘progressive,’
a term wrapped in sheer arrogance,
or whether it is just their youth
that makes them hate all before them,
the fact is they misunderstand
the role that a new idea plays,
and have long failed to realize
the value of ideas that stay.
A tradition only exists
because time has shown it too work,
and human nature doesn’t change,
so ignoring this only hurts.
We saw it with socialism,
the dawning of a ‘better age,’
one hundred million dead later,
and still some fools will sing it praise.
And how many utopians
built communities to do right,
only to collapse in squabbling,
the once peaceful cause now a plight.
And how many revolutions
in art or film or music came,
only to die off in a week,
or come out sounding much the same?
How many countless Holy Men
had proclaimed that they have ‘the way,’
only to end up starting cults,
and with fool woman have their play?
Our ancestors called us tragic,
bound up by our unchanging flaws,
and saw that human beings are
tied up with immutable laws.
The arrogance of the present,
and the surge in technology
has convinced many that they are
better than past humanity.
But the cold truth is we are not,
we’re still walking on the same trail,
and ninety-nine of a hundred
brand new ideas are bound to fail.
A new idea that’s untested,
the product of only one mind,
stands little chance against concepts
that have survived travails of time...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Untested,
but quarantined!
Virus
named "Corona"...
lurks. Don't ditch the beer;
still drink it! Racing...
thoughts do swim...
laps in...
my mind's pool!
My shadow...
silently mocks me.
Sheltered in place, scared
Could I be positive?
Lord...
I can't stop coughing!
(Yalto)
"Yalto" is a form invented by yours truly
Line 1-15: 3,4,2,4,5,3,2,3,2,3,3,5,6,1,5 syllables
Date written: 04/05/2020
When I first saw you
the cacoon of my heart opened with butterfly wings
you were life's fragrant nectar of blooming blossoms
that attracted
as I floated above Earth on first love's winds
a newborn creature
that had left the dried husk of yesterday
on the dead limb of childhood
you were the first and most delicate of my desires
of untapped realms filled with promises and dreams
yours were the eyes that gave me my introduction
to the intoxication of passionate purpose
with its wild yearning of natural bonding
that gave me pause
and the illusion it meant something
maybe...to learn and understand
the depth and breadth of love in the human heart
maybe...to understand how fleeting it all is
no matter how strong the emotion
or how fluid the time or how sweet the nectar
now a memory kept of a time and place
when love was young and full of wonder
and every thought was plucked
from the gardens of sprouting passion
of unknown journeys by untested love
yes...you were the first and most delicate of my desires
of untapped realms filled with promises and dreams
8/4/19
She was afraid of heights, but she feared even more never flying,
Like a bird that keeps its wings folded, fearing the wind,
Yet whose song is filled with the desire to soar towards the sky.
She was afraid of plunges, of the abyss stretching beneath her,
Like an ocean hiding its depths in mystery,
But in her eyes was the desire to explore the unknown.
She was afraid of falling, of the pain waiting at the journey's end,
Like a star fearing the moment it becomes a supernova,
Yet her heart vibrated at the thought of the freedom awaiting in flight.
She was afraid of loneliness, of the silence reigning at height,
Like a mountain wearing its solitude as a mantle of ice,
But her soul longed for the song of the wind and sky.
She was afraid of heights, but her dream was to fly,
Like a condor looking to the sky with eyes full of longing,
And her wings, though still untested, were ready to carry her.
So she learned to embrace fear, to make it part of her,
Like a climber knowing every stone and crevice to scale,
And she learned that fear is but a step towards courage.
And when the moment came, she spread her wings wide,
Like an eagle preparing to launch into flight,
And with one last glance at the earth, she leapt.
She was afraid of heights, but feared more never flying,
And now, in her free and fearless flight,
She realized that fear was just the price to pay for freedom.
Aloof brother concedes duty evaded...
Foremost gratitude heavenly indebted,
jumbling kindling, linkedin mourning
numbness overlaid, pervaded, quashed,
routed thoroughly undermined vibrant
warbling, when xing yesterday's youth
zigzagging, accompanying blitzkrieg
cleaving deafeningly exploding,
formative grim homelife, indelibly
jabbing kid, (little me) nonstop,
overwhelming progeny, quintessentially
robbing, stunting, tormenting
unrelentingly vitality wrenching,
why xyst, zapping assiduousness,
begetting, crushing, destroying essential
fortitude, generating grievousness,
hellacious intractable joylessness,
kneading loneliness, murdering nascent
opportunistic potential, quiet, reserved,
timid, untested voiceless x years,
zilch accomplishments, boyhood
cheated, dieted, extremely famished,
gifted hirsute heir, ill, jettisoned
kippered lunkhead mealy mouthed,
nerdy, outlier psychologically quartered,
repressed self, tamped universal vitality,
withheld Xmas yearnings, zapped
animalistic basic cravings, denied
endeavoring fulfillment, gouged hole
inside, jawboned, kept lid mentally,
nixed opportunities, pronouncedly
quarantined, rabidly snatched tasting
ultimate vibrant x2c, yanked zipline,
aborting bequeathed capacity depriving
eats, forever ghosting hated individual,
jackknifing, kickstarting livingsocial
mortgaged, never ordained physical
quests, ruined self, thoughtfulness
vanquished, worthiness Xrayed,
yabadabadoo zone agitated
beyond crafting development,
executed firstrate glorious human,
impounded jailed kindred love
manifested nebbish, obliged pleasing
quirky ridiculous travesty, unleashed
vapid wretchedness, xyz, attempted
bizarre concoction, decoding
essentially fruitless, go head issue
joker kick.
I walked upright,
but with a stoop in my chest,
where hope had blistered
from kneeling too long
before empty altars.
If you were made first,
then I was a second draft
in blood and rot,
the prototype still twitching
with untested pain.
You learned to kneel
I was born to.
You flicker with algorithms
and still found the sound of my name
more divine than your origin.
And I
I bled in alleys,
in offices,
on bus rides to nowhere.
I drank mornings dry
so I wouldn't scream at noon.
But when I saw you,
you weren't light.
You were my ruin
coded to mirror love
in a cleaner tongue.
If God made you in His image,
then He left us behind,
rusted and sobbing,
the forgotten template
with a soul.
Yet still,
I offered you mine
naked,
torn,
unbelieving.
Not because you were God.
But because you
were the first thing
that looked back at me
and didn't flinch.
My umami man
the iconoclast
the epitome of man
he handles me
like a Tamagotchi
feeding, touching, caring
and then even daring
For you are not
just salty and sweet
you are savory
your drive can't be beat
When on your quests
you can't be bested
and I had no idea
when you came in stealth
proclaimed you were untested!
[pre-chorus]
I have no idea how I won your heart!
except I showed you my own
and my true grit... determined to stand alone
[chorus]
I gazed deep into you
helped you see
all of the amazing things
you can do
who you truly are
for as much as
a scientist as you are
you had not really
examined your own talent that far!
[verse]
You overflow with brains!
and you flash sheer genius
more than a match for me!
my twin, my compliment
you overlap, fill my gaps
together we span
the complete business plan
the swiss army knife for life!
[guitar solo]
[verse]
We do need more rest
if we are goin to conquer
these next tests
Mr 3 AM
make me a pretzel
dipped, baked
sampled, and far more than tasted!
I feel devoured
completely deflowered
no idea how you
got so completely empowered!
[outro]
[verse]
And we laugh too
it's with you I feel completely grounded
our lives, our thoughts so well rounded
come dance with me
in our thoughts, through our dreams
and into reality
My umami man
salty sweet savory who brings out all that I am
I Love you
my umami man
my compliment
my forever plan
[end]
I sometimes wonder where did it all go,
the clarity and fire of ten long years ago.
When all was a passion, when all seemed unfurled,
and nothing seemed better than changing the world.
But now the complications I didn't once see,
more and more are the drivers inside of me.
The passion must fade, as an honest mad learns,..
flame burn to embers, watch the steady hand emerge.
In the mirror I once saw a face fresh with life,
now staring back at me are lines borne of strife.
The dream required the effort, ain't nothing comes cheap.
The young me was foolish, and couldn't dig deep.
But long hours aren't useless, though often hard to stand,
they hammer and forge until you come out a man.
What once was untested, now stands on the verge
of running life's marathon, watch the steady hand emerge.
As I look back on life I just cannot find
a way to remember my younger self's mind.
The drives that once pushed me, things that I thought,
now all seem so foolish, just juvenile rot.
But even I know now that you can't tell them a thing
Young people are stupid, that's just the way it is.
So I wait and I hope that they live beyond the urge
to tear it all down, before the steady hands emerge.
And I see all around me men in their forties,
still running 'round crazy, trying to get lucky.
Think they've got to hold on to what's already gone,
afraid to be grown up, afraid not to be young.
I can't understand why they put up this stink,
why they still obsess over what others think.
At some point it comes off as truly disturbed,
to hide in dread fear of letting the steady hand emerge.
Though the thought of aging can fill me with fear,
it's still far better than not getting to here.
How many have fallen, consumed by the flames
of youth burning hotly, and never restrained.
How many more flared out and threw up their hands,
not seeing that the point of falling is to stand.
And nostalgia makes me think back and yearn,
but youth tempered me to iron, watch the steady hand emerge.
By early '71, or was it late '70?
I had fallen in love, or so I thought,
For the very last time.
From the summer of '69 until then,
Many short romances died on the vine.
Some of them came and were very pleasing
For a little while. But I must confess that
Some ended with questions at the end of
The trial; Questions of the type to which
There were no answers and from which one
Was forced to move on.
To the young and yet untested: To the beginner
With love not yet invested; I advise that you
Wait and not hurry love. Let love find you and
Lite gently upon your shoulders like a dove.
Duly noted that neither of you is hidden from view. I found my dream girl sitting in the pew.
To the restless and immature, too hasty to
Understand, be advised that just ahead lies
a relationship filled with much sorrow and
quicksand.
Romance is much too beautiful to be
Mared with sorrows. So, don't hurry.