Melancholy is a tritone
Or an unresolved major seventh
A better life is literally
A half step away
Yet I ring out detectable tension
And you cringe when I am articulated
Enjoy your major triad
In C
Coward
Irving Berlin could only compose with black keys

Skin scrubbed raw for the thousandth time
Bleach became my boy
The container impenetrable, sanitary sanctuary
I bled soap suds through unclogged pores
Exposed without the film that blurred all interaction
Flash freedom and a taste of humanity to new buds
The light stung my eyes, and I turned to hide
Hasty retreat and acceptance of defeat
I saw a doctor, and he gave me a shot
But forgot
To clean the wound
Or change the dressing
Infection claimed me and drove me mad
I ran home barefoot in a hospital gown
Dodging bats and rats and wolves
And I dove into the mud, rolled about
Bathing in soothing gratification
Caked in routine and ruminating about the choices and the fall
I watched the sky, contemplating zero or more

flutter by butterfly
whisking by on air sublime
orange and black monarch of sky
butterfly fluttering bye

Where do you fly to in such a hurry?
Where do you go that you can't rest your weary wings?

off into the skies
the butterfly did fly
waving monarch wings
good-bye

Kissing lips of the softest feathers
Remembering lightening and mosquito songs
Intensifying the moment between thunder claps
Sarcastic quips from a woman so beautiful to me
Trembling with mouthfuls of devotion
Entangled and ensnared in the ache of my heart
Never to be without my love

Epic stories of love, life, and commitment
Like fairy tales written long ago
In some far away land that we couldn’t possibly know
Zephyr winds blow like strangled tornadoes of
Adoration sweeping my words across the sky
Beckoning sweet diction in the bat of a lover’s eye
Enticing the love of late nights coiled in your embrace
Transcending all the doubt and fears of two
High school sweethearts with nothing better to do

Bards sing songs and speak poetry
Adorning exquisiteness upon the exquisite
Rhythm without the comfort of rhymes
Nightingale’s lingering song croons
Espoused on the coldest of cold winter nights
Safe in the affectionate passion of her kiss

The coolest,
                   hippest thing about being
             a poet
                                 a writer
                   an orator
       is the ability to invent
                                            words
     give them                      meaning
where no             meaning            previously
                      e x i s t e d
    give a new              word   a    definition
                        defined,  wrote,             spoke
Use them in
                    verses
                              sentences
                                             speech
nouns
                 pronoun
                                  adjective
             verb
                adverb
and
      on
           and
                on
                    and
                          on

*the flumbertwimbla (not to be confused with a flumbertwumbla...) was as quick witted and razhnaha as a beginkogojobalu but had none of the charm nor characteristics of the humbajuno. What it lacked in chuggakoocahoo it made up for with it's own take on ickshelllatah. True story.