Long Vaunted Poems

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April 19th 2020 Just An Ordinary and Typical

April 19th 2020 - just an ordinary and typical...
clothes washing Sunday courtesy the missus

Ah... the highlight of our supposed, linkedin,
designated day of respite after a week toiling
away with ennui, yes reader a tower mountain
(rivalling Himalaya's 29,029 foot range), oozes

odoriferous tendrils suffuse every square inch
within entire drab one bedroom apartment, but
invariably contribute to climate changing/global
warming), said domestic chore indulged with a

burst of fervent excitement (competing making
long day's journey into night long to retrieve the
requisite communication with outside webbed
wide world) bring joie de vivre je ne sais quois
weekly highlight to thyself vaccinated courtesy

(against adversity), and valued tough as (nine
inch) nails missus vaunted as Xena, methinks,
she exaggerates bajillion fold dubbing me with
appellation as herr (germane) Hercules, a miss
gnome er, I no longer nitpick amidst these most

challenging times where coronavirus COVID-19
(ironic violent crime plus environmental abuse
nearly absolute zero) engendering loyalty, high
fidelity, assiduity among madding crowd I (a runt
of mill garden variety generic doubting Thomas)

kin Hardy believe me myopic sudden inexplicable
camaraderie between and betwixt ordinary folks,
no matter, we (doddering, hobbling, & kickstarting)
long time married couple (seems like millenniums)
revel when washing clothes occasion arises, despite

modern time saving contrivances (washer and dryer)
available, but all monies larded out to buzzfeed icky
persnickety, rickety,... temperamental wishy washy
machines quickly (said cash & or cache automatically
line silver) pockets of Grosse and Quade, them iz zee

who own living facility here: 2 Highland Manor, yet
purportedly (according to rumor mongers aim to sell
property for fair market price) - just in case ye dear
reader seek to sink (literally) x dollars into formerly
owned Mars redoubt, and once upon time wetlands.


The Courage of Men

The courage of men, 'tis a curious thing;
everyone thinks it's about killing.
The thrill of battle, joy of a fight,
an enemy's face upon displays of might.

Yet the courage of men should not be
asserted in death, in bloody glee.
It should be felt in strength of soul,
measured in how is played the man's role.

Holding high the head, heeding hard the heart -
these herald the courage of men, the few apart.
One never knows all, and cannot plan for it,
but he can prove himself able, one of wit.

A soft hand instead of a heavy blow,
words and forgiveness, not a vicious row.
An offered shoulder, not a closed fist,
whispered support instead of insults hissed.

Too often, the vaunted courage of men
means nothing, abused in each dark den
where strength inside goes to be twisted,
disgrace, hate, where honor once existed.

To show true courage is not to be top dog,
not to make brothers through one's trail slog.
It is to help them meet, even exceed,
his level of worth, of word and deed.

Abandoning oaths and following only whim
makes not a man; that only proves a him.
Shouldering his burden, others' and one's own -
so are the seeds of men's real courage grown.

One need not give all, sacrifice his life to earn
his place in the world, on the heavenly wheel a turn -
self-sacrifice not necessary, selflessness all but;
a man out for only one, the door to courage has shut.

Embrace what needs be done, and a notion is born;
that one means more, that a worthy role is borne.
That one then is worthy of respect, esteem;
the pure courage of men now a life's theme.
Form: Rhyme

Yankee Doodle

    In 1755 a British army medical surgeon Richard Shuckburgh, while campaigning in
    Rensselaer New York, penned the nursery rhyme Yankee Doodle. This was used to mock
    the Colonists by the British soldiers, with whom they served in the seven years French and 
    Indian war. 
   The word Yankee was of Dutch origin, meaning a simpleton, Doodle 
    from low German a country hick, and dandy a middle - class man impersonating the 
    British aristocracy, who with the fashion of the day would wear a macaroni. This was an
    elaborate wig embellished with ornate decorations. Also speaking in an effeminate
    manner.

    After the seven years American war, the British Crown, who now controlled the thirteen
    States from New Hampshire in the North to Georgia in the South, increased taxes on the 
    Colonists, to pay their fair share of the war. On July the fourth 1776 the Continental 
    Congress declared independence from Great Britain, resulting in many battles and 
    skirmishes. The words and tune of Yankee Doodle which was once an insult, became a 
    song of pride, used to taunt the much vaunted power of the British army. After the British 
    surrendered to the Colonists and the French, many verses were added extolling the 
    struggles to achieve their ultimate victory. It is sung patriotically in the United States
   today, and is the state anthem of Connecticut.

    Yankee Doodle went to town
    A- riding on a pony,
    Stuck a feather in his cap
    And called it macaroni.
          ( chorus )
    Yankee Doodle keep it up,
    Yankee Doodle Dandy,
    Mind the music and the step
    And with th girls be handy.

    Father and I went down to camp,
    Along with Captain Gooding,
    And there we saw the men and boys
    As thick as hasty pudding.
          ( chorus )
Form: Rhyme

Chaos In the Whitehouse Jab One

Congressman and senators forewent 
all manner of civility, fidelity and integrity wii
hull ding broadswords, derringers 
and exhibiting the right to bare firearms 
as all hell broke loose as testimony
to the dire prognostication foretold 

more than saber rattling and Gatling guns que
kind from lambastes, fisticuffs 
and brickbats ratcheted up as agents provocateurs nee
said obedience to semper fidelis credo, coda and cock knee
stance when dire straits called for restraint 

against excess versus raising cane old hickory
i.e. Andrew Jackson latched onto when opposing with energy
plus verve espoused by fellow delegates, 
and his hologram ghost bloody

from battle scars outside and/or inside 
the halls of government where blows bashed
dovetailed elected legislators to officiate 
as angry birds viz brouhaha clashed
Federalist against their nemesis 

of the twenty first century 
during the term of Donald Trump 
who throve on the cutthroat frenzied 
internecine lawlessness dashed
to and fro, hither and yon 

any hopelessness for civilians to escape bloodshed 
spilled from without vaunted halls of justice, 
the approach of doomsday 
writ large as anarchy and mayhem flashed 
with uproarious coup d’etat,

Premium Member Black Heart

No finer witness to the unchanged heart,
he dishes scorn and heaps high his disdain.
A gift with words, quite clear is his command,
yet his tongue spews forth filth, is entertained.

The chains weigh dark and heavy on this soul,
and yet imagining himself as free,
he marches to a beat both dire and droll,
and fails to grasp the reason he can't see.

The self has raised to lofty heights, this one;
he, from his vantage, sneers down at the rest.
A wasted gift when all is said and done:
a hormoned chick beating a vaunted breast. 

Here too I found myself in olden day;
as others did for me, so I will pray.
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet


Marooned On An Island of Nihilism

After a lifetime
(pronounced like millennium),
where tenacity futilely braced
psyche deeply purpled,
hellishly, and lethally
traced resulting scars -
jackknifed, emasculated
cruelly chaste

sexuality expired, lapsed,
and petered out testosterone
begone to waste,
and how this abased
bereft of eroded optimism,
nee faith no more - erased,
solitary carbon based animal
coalesced into countless

foreborn generations
(glommed *****sapiens
salient survival skills)
mortified, putrefied, and
stagnated toxic brew
quaffing poisonous 
score peon - composite gin,
barley distilled, exiled,

and fragmented
human encased
faculties doggedly
catapulted, with haste
squandered genetic inheritance
kamikaze potential
apathetically plundered, akin
how Hindenburg plummeted

like led zeppelin,
(scare way to craven)
his foghorn emitting distinctive
Semitic bulbous 
shofar shaped schnozzle traced
analogous to decrepit son -
dialed helpline to late
promising lad once vaunted

lauded, and 
deemed hereditarily, -
he busted great expectations
quintessentially, psycho
socially, and opportunistically
lineage noble storied
standing déclassé debased
forced to take stock at aging

non-thrilled man
in the mirror
haggard heavily creased
doughy paste poker face
(born that way)
blankly stare ring back, spaced
out, no longer boyish,
but gray bearly grizzled, 

flecked, and etched stubble,
scraggly unkempt whiskers
discombobulated
straggly matted hair
limply drape stupefied noggin
utterly disc graced
countenance eye spy
crows feet laced

blotchy complexion re: placed
once smooth skin
donned dawning senescence 
amplification trumped
"NON FAKE" crudely
aping scrim age lost 
fight of his life.

Rebounding With Energy After Midnight

Methinks resurgence of wakefulness
after bewitching hour i.e. midnight
quickly dissipating before dawn
quasi baptism regarding
preternatural soulful immersion
amidst spiritus mundi

foretaste awaiting expiration
regarding corporeal being
yours truly approaching mortality,
despite atheistic predilections
mine consciousness anointed
amist pantheon renown authors

analogous to dead poet society
ephemerally, fleetingly, gloriously
rejuvenated injecting inspiration
channeling, kindling, tindering
divine ethereal effervescence
allowing, enabling, proffering

exquisite jubilant outlook,
albeit phenomenal, quintessential, surreal
flash dancing unbelievable arabesque
spellbinding one garden variety
no name brand mortal
with dizzying evocative

silent springing summer
re: August gifted wordsmiths
avast swath of diverse
literary creative minds
amalgamation spanning
representative creeds, ethnicities,

genders, nationalities, religions...
disembodied spirits
peacefully commingling
immortal legendary outsize resplendent
universally vaunted writers
inaccessible to communicate

become linkedin while
this body (me) electrified
with sensory awareness
merely sneak preview
after life coming attractions,
nonetheless spark zealousness

to hone poetic craftsmanship
never approaching supreme
talent these masters endowed
yet also aspiring
to tamp down intimidation
beholding gold standard

benchmarked excellence
no matter mine deft
flourishes with English language
never earns raves
still enjoyment arises
enamored with kickstarting

indulging reverence expressing
emotions, thoughts, yearnings...
thru milieu courtesy
twenty six symbols,
where dictionary equals Bible

said tome in tandem with thesaurus
treasure trove of untold delight
and affinity since boyhood
until...corporeal flesh
attains posthumous summons.

Premium Member To Recall and Restore Our Freedoms

American soldiers have given their lives
    in war after war after war after war
  Be they in the Army, in the Navy
    in the Air Force or the Marine Corps

  For four constitutional freedoms
    they made the ultimate sacrifice
    Freedom of Speech, of the Press
    Freedom of Religion, of Assembly 
         the right to petition and redress

  Rightly do we honor the fallen heroes
    who've nobly defended our country's ideals
  But it is on us who remain to preserve what we've cherished
    not to forgo them in tawdry backroom deals

  Yet it seems that is just what we've done for the past 60 years
    What began as 'cultural revolution' has morphed into fascism and fear
  Can we this Memorial Day recall and restore our vaunted freedoms
    ere they vanish in dusky corridors of abandoned museums?
Form: Rhyme

A Fiendish Destitution

While we dwell to this dreidel,
I seek to know before a sear,
Even in the most ineluctable dandle,
The fruit to which may indeed bear;
In the imbue oblivion, I tell a riddle,
Most morass yet merely in fear,
For the sake of fiduciary wheedle,
Let me share with you my compadre,
The reason for this lachrymose!
We seek solace, I seek a motley,
Of a jejune yet quite leonine__
I’m carrying a huge cornucopia;
__And the temerity to extirpate
The gloaming quiddity, the fireflies.
With my cries not perceptible;
And this sandbag is too heavy a burden;
The earthquake of demands,
With the hallucination of needs,
Have starved my conscience Mekeba!
For I do not come to you by chance,
By chance found you in my utopia.
To be a man calls for a hybrid of habits,
The fluctuation which efface intrinsic,
Hapless of a jaded impaired grift.
To be a suitable snitch in the sight,
Of your serene pugilism with skylark,
A batty revelation of chains of choice!
An honest opinion of soft sips.....
A turpitude scent of petals niche,
The jurassic meld of mundane’s prig.
In my desolate the burning throbs,
The anxiety to revert my paunch,
The antithesis of the flamboyant story;
The entangled facts from the realities
This is the precarious situation smelling,
Around the jungle with fear or shame.
The ornery of your aesthetic breach,
And they vaunted to a great suffice,
Tales of a teller telling them in a folktales.
Everyone with his own dilemma;
In the gamut of this conjecture,
Who will help me muster this burden?
I have reached the dovetail for perfection
For I’m no longer a peer, so I see different,
From the way I saw ages ago in oblique.
This pot of inferno has exploded and this fire,
The inscrutable fire has engulfed my head,
I’m burning in clandestine fray....
I’m in moribund and so I bloviate for help,
In this helpless world that help only the dead!!.

Inspection Time 2018

Inspection Time 2018!

Dum...dum...dum...dum...DUH -
     anxiety shot thru stratosphere upon
     good news notification aboot
a fortnight from this last
     Friday of August tooth

     house sand date teen,
     rankling the body
     electric sans this "FAKE" ole coot
which panic stricken state
     (as iterated above),

     where quiet listening affected
     (with eyes shut wide)
     Mozart's The Magic Flute
hearing such melodic notes
     while lying sue

     pine versus sitting
     upon me comfort
     ably numb glute
if attuned to said renown composer,
     whose name familiar

     'round the world wide web,
     where his person posthumously
     rings up substantial loot,
yet such rambling moot,
when priority must first

     and foremost doth attend,
asper tidying up
     apartment, cuz inspection
     just around the bend
thus also a prayer would be

     appreciated (by this atheist)
     and/or juiced an email friend
e'en keeping limitation,
     i.e. sharing trained,
     unwavering, vaunted, wishing,

     yearning for zesty gerund
forming relationship to
     the maximum reciprocity,
     thee world wide web doth lend
no...no...no...NOT focused

     on anything greater,
     than heartfelt succor, asper
     tear riff hick
     genuine fantastic Earthling
     my darned cruel blimey

     soc erratic angst to mend,
though married, tis 
     resplendent dear people
     scattered far and wide
courtesy of the internet,

     one can ride
upon the information
     super highway with pride
minus prejudice and
     trusty Google as guide,
perhaps...even fostering,
     kickstarting, and ushering
     online groom and/or bartered bride.

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