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Lawrence Hall Feb 2019
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The soup today is not what it could be;
We’d better search out the old recipe


Explanatory Note:

I fear the poem as written fails, which is my fault (perhaps I have lapsed into fuzziness from reading  Leonard Cohen), so here is a bit of exposition:

The words in small print are a quote from the Bishops of Texas (long may they wave), generated by some in-house scrivener, about what constitutes a "credible accusation."  "Credible accusation" is not a title in civil, criminal, or canon law, and it appears to be some sort of Article 58 (cf. Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago), a means whereby anyone is guilty because he has been accused.  It stinks.

Also stinky is the behavior of some few priests and religious.

Anyway, I pulled the quote from a diocesan web site, and scattered among it in LARGE TYPE categories from that site.  I stirred 'em all up in a soup because the matter of paedophilia and the bishops' responses seem to be a soup, making it difficult for a "good simpleton" (cf A Canticle for Leibowitz) like me to understand.

May God have mercy on us all.
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2017
~for lovejunkie~

"a watermark is a faint design made in some paper
during manufacture, which is visible when held
against the light and typically identifies the maker"

<•>

But you knew that...

in each, and *every
poem,
intentional stains faint revealed

Here,
a 2:03am watermark,
a time stamping of time, place,
a self-notification of "you were here,"
hid under the writing wrist,
or in a favorite verse,
(invisibly interspersed, blinking a winking,)
the very now of this poems
incanting, decanting formation,
by the neo natal baby warmers,
heating filaments of glowing incandescence

Perhaps this one, to be completed, come the sabbath,
when the eastern suns rising glow
over the North Fork must, demands it,
de jure, by natural law,
provoke and parole my soul
unto confession,
ordering a performance review of my
yellowed journalism revelations,
by the halo's fresh sunlight,
revealing all the watermarks
of the scrivener

These words, these toyed crumbs,
these human droppings, what is remaindered,
post ablutions, pre-morning prayers
the washing away of the mid-of-night
cappuccino-colored night frights

To new day light,
hold up my skin to any and all effervescent sources,
even the electronic red light, low resolution room dots,
all to see if still yet,
the coursing river run red beneath the
blue veined body's arterial roadmap,
exposing the rents, the cracks,
where, yes, Rebecca,
"the light gets in,"
fresh tracks, new watermarks

This then,
best viewing time of the
impermeable, impermanent, perpetual moving
below and above watermarked inscriptions,
eclipsing, barely just visible
above the eye lined brow,
etchings upon the forehead,
like my Cousin Cain,
standing out outstandingly,
imprimis:

ex libris (from the library of)
the eyes now reading these verses


One of you a-muse-ds,
gave me this title,
one of you used by me,
you gave me the inspiration,
you undid me into this doing
of my undoing

Connecting the unworthy audience,
that's me,
to the masters of my poor souls survival,
that's you, all,
into admitting, rinsing, repeating,
for have I not once before
affirmed
my scores, my marks,
way back in '13

The heretofore
of all my flaws,
you call them scars,
I call them
my prima facie
needled watermarks,
my poems

When once I wrote:

I am both,
and nothing but,
addict and dealer,
a ****** poet...
a ****** poet ******


<•>
8/17/17 1:49am ~ 9/4/17 5:56am
Manhattan Isle ~ North Fork L.I.

<•>
https://hellopoetry.com/lovejunkie/read


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/392109/yo-yo-my-drug-of-choice-****-poets/
<•>

the sabbath comes
<•>
some members on the site,
give such visceral. detailed, and poetic reactions to my writings that it almost always
provokes, seeds, the next new poem.
This crosses many lives,
the survivors.
LJ- I hope your daughter does read your work someday; on that day, give her this one as a preface, so to speak...<•>
Third Mate Third Jan 2015
for pennies, an app
to do the heavy lifting,
rhymes, pentameter,
all the quatrains ya ever needed

strained fever, emotions rampant,
insufficient and unnecessary conditions
for poverty poetry evocation,
even autocorrects insipid
really bad tiresome love poems,
après endless generation (degeneration?)

who needs you

you think
no such animal

you be write

for the art of life
cannot be mechanized

wrote a poem,
a wistful sad lament
on mothers losing children,
a prayer, a yelling, a condemnation,
the app was,
on this subject
uncommunicative,
un étranger
of silence
in all languages

you can buy love
but you cannot buy pain

too costly and
3D printers
give you plastic, disingenuous
wholly unsatisfactory

for a lousy $1.99
I'll write you customized,
supply the situation,
a few descriptive phrases,
60 minutes later,
et voila!

am you app,
am your scrivener,
don't do roses or violets
but yes to
rhythm and blues

will take
PayPal
PenPal
but no credit cards

you may take my words
as you own,
take my credit,
but I won't take yours...

I am app human,
bring me your lush, winsome,
plain vanilla, tutti frutti,
all acceptable,
for where the real stuff
comes from

I have only mined
the surface,
the veins beneath
richness for the asking
meet where the broad rivers both
empty and fill the oceans,
takers and givers,
swapping fluids constant,
loyal ******, from the sky, robbing,
selling what isn't theirs to the soil,

for this is the human condition,
the foaming eddys where
life becomes words becomes life
Underground with the worms?
It's another fine moist
You've gotten me in, Stanley.
N'est-ce pas?
"The night was moist," wrote Billy Crystal,
As the writers blocked scrivener in
"Throw Mama from the Train."
You run into many old friends, here.
Here in the slime is where I'm at.
Let me show you where it's at.
And that's a fact, Jack.
My ROM brain is prewired,
Yet subvocal mnemonics filter thru,
A RAM cache, stored for future amusement,
But crossing over now, randomly.
Redshift Apr 2013
i was just lying
with my cheek
against the rug
of my room
panting
wishing
my breathe would stop
and i suddenly saw
amidst a flock of papers
on my floor
nestled there
my little
quarter-sized
green plastic
turtle
that i used to keep in my pocket
named bartleby
i found him in the mud
one day
outside
in the winter
i washed him off
and he kept me
company
until i lost him

i
put down the sharp flower
i was about to slice my wrist with
and i pick up
bartleby
this probably won't have much meaning if you haven't read bartleby the scrivener.
Apartment recommendations for a city I’ve never smelled
in my mailbox. Empty wine glasses and static electricity
the air, the dust, the heart, the tip, the flotilla----------------
mercy.
me.
mercenary. bible camp.
jacket, jacket, hobble; ****** keys.
You’re a smudge, you doornail, tack.
Tack-- tack, tack. Honey, a floating bungalow========)
Pull off the danger, rose, it’s a time for campaigning.
Awash in grassy knolls, you hidden scavenger.
Grassing, grassing with watering hide, you scrivener!
MMXI
Courtesy of AskJeeves, and a special acknowledgement
to the Google search algorithm, this anachronistic Travelocity gent
lee blog, a factual fictitious vignette takes add Vonage of Samsung viz Clark Kent
incredible computer software programs and sturdy Mainframe he kin lent.

Bass sic Lee (this savvy poetic end-user) opted incorporating what he doth **** sitter
tubby both thee hottest n coolest common bots unseen that ping and skitter
n thrive within binary bitmap digital boot not embittered nor iz he a quitter
as unseen electronic/ microscopic realm, whar can tweet and twitter.

Since a countless number of applications constitute the hum maze zing
information superhighway (thank you Al Gore), this computer addict plucked on a wing
n broken kin prayer juiced a random sample per significant thing
hearty soulful itty bitty byte size flickr patented technological silent ring
tone signaling data communications packets fueling hand held devices did ping.

So many automatic, cryptic, esoteric…et cetera fiber optic pulsating stupefying vectors cross, twas impossible but to winnow down the selection process, in virtual sector
which smattering of Apps countless twenty first century human projector
where computer applications anachronistically don the following epistle like nectar
I Trump pet smart word smith re: scrivener effecter.

Shiloh Golong and describe, which Apple of my eye (amidst all the Core **** sans millions of equally omitted, yet equally appealing, enlivening, incorporating Wans
et cetera populate virtual reality) resonated within Chrome moe so mull Bing vans.

Skype in n Angry Bird n If ya need to take Avast break please Compaq to this Century21, Foursquare kilometers from Instagram Pennsylvania, who (despite kiss
sing eternal Allianz with the fountain of youth) witnessed The Birth of Cosmos - hiss
story give or take a million years, and can remember when Geico caveman dis
cover Victoria’s Secret how to make fire,
   which kept warm re: covergirl company in this now over lit Circuit City amiss.

This Earthlinked, Googly eyed (brown), Hotmail wannabe doth dwell in Dell a where valley thinking About such notions as: Airgas, Comcast, Excelon…. Veer
eye sin plus responding to interpersonal classified advertisements x spear
ment tang feigning tube be a bachelor.
   Hoop ping to dance with female stars purportedly accidently twerking ma rear.

Oh…Methinks a desperate gal from Ashley Madison, AdultFriendfinder, Badoo,
or purdy than from any other website fancies friend ship with this nebbish, goo goo
doll doting generic goofball perchance seeking somebody aesthetically attractive ta moo

Va the bowels of mein kempf imagination, thus envision, a slight shift in action Lifelock drama as fealty to fair *** necessitates discerning whom rapping or mebbe a mock
MineCraft softly (echoes SoundClound) infuse this creaky body limp as a wet sock
with a sudden jolt to beat a path to the door fast as greased lightening shard o rock.

Hmm…the sudden ruse to quick forge an invisible IdentityGuard  axe like a KickStarter, a throwback to those glorious atavistic arboreal days when fate did ensure tartar
sauce appeasing Plentyoffish edenic, idyllic, and lipstick Joyus ness n warder.

To quench thirst, now dear Rabbit Reader (unwelcome Reddit news hints
struggling to hastily springme to action upon my super attenuated like gooey mints
noggin Natwest ted yet will be let down upon discerning what issues **** as quince- rat…tat…tat…ring…ring…ring.” oh my dog – psyche does wince.

Campbell soup and please pardon moi while pullup these gangly limb
and attend to an unexpected interloper. All ike kin manage to mutter Kim
Kardashian - nothing amuse zing- comprises “oh sh…sh…Jim
me John, Shutterfly, Keeblers, Aldies, and quickly experiencing him
a lay ahs aka, the sensation of falling into an abysmally cold welled bank

Argh! Dave and Buster (two super tramping security details impossible to contact
on this Blizzard besotted day. While thoughts whir like Buzzfeed. Donald redact ******* blitz, he anoints himself styled ace of spades. Figurative cards stacked
when Sarah Palin, pledged gubernatorial endorsement Survey Monkey tracked
opposition, outliers immediately banished when the angel of Merck whacked

me upside the BirchBox size head n OkCupid (the one perched and Twitter on me right shoulder prods me to tell the truth, This har Motley Fool (holed up in his actually quite confesses to be a mailer daemon whose Pinterest constitutes prevaricating a kooky plight
while athwart his abode, which Orbitz a Chrome colored sun light

Whence, he (sometimes called Mac) keeper of this Oculus Rift;
SnapChatting with renown architects About MapQuest ting plans Lyft
ed for a SolarCity alone in the Whirled Wide Webbed wilderness a grift

Tor from Lake Woebegone, where all the women strive tubby on Youtube,
the children  Facebook endlessly amidst the global tract of teenage wasteland, ****
Rick hating, and every GoDaddy inquires WhatsApp while puzzling Rubik’s cube.
Ink flows on the page
Whispers of stories so bold
Time held in each line
Revealing past deeds untold
Words act as a guage
Of our thoughts, from young to old
Baring through the age
When gazing on words untold
By turning each page
Growth of ideas unfold
Structured as a 5:7:5 haiku, but I tried to make it rhyme.
Yea of course writing ideas unstoppably
burst asunder at the most inconvenient
opportunities such as driving Miss Daisy,
taking a shower, or using the bathroom.
Accursed ambition becoming a prolific
scrivener (case in point Stephen King)

Woolworth ridding, oddly lumbering
lackadaisically shoehorning out this
being from a self made gully. The jury
yet to decree if attempting to extricate
muss elf from tangled web of decades
old setbacks via literary output successful.

Every morning, noon and night, this chap
blunders, flounder, (like a phish out of water),
yet plod his shipshape reclusive quiet-natured
person along the boulevard of broken dreams.

Oft times, huff hind aye muss elf entering The
Dead Zone (bordering a Pet Sematary). Earlier,
a previous saunter found me surmounting
The Green Mile. Attendant in regard to these
Bag Of Bones, and Desperation to acquire

telephone contact with Cell phone quickens
pace despite Insomnia. No matter unexpected
Sleeping Beauties warrant kisses, my determination,
motivation, and slight trepidation occasionally breeds
(The Dark Half), doomsday facet heftily jackknifing lust.

Occasionally, a feeble goading simply under minds
any corporeal aim to restore endeavor to experience
Joyland. IT (creative juices within spur meeting Rose
Red and her restorative powers. Onward atheistic
soldier goes this chap. No matter tipping point (vis
a vis hungry fatigued body clamors for Needful Things.

Revival (for food and sleep) frequently appears grim.
Downcast state of body, mind and spirit reinforced
by mirage. The Dark Tower looms ahead! Adjacent
to ominous evil looking structure silhouette casted
of a Black House. The initial ambition to ward off
abysmal results summon forth creative literary juices.

Simultaneously a migraine headache pounding pitted LIX.
They hammer horrifically, ferociously, and diabolically.
Shades of shad rock Under The Dome. Ma noggin
aches like The Tommyknockers! Every attempt to locate
a royal crowning coeval counterpart jinxed with laborious
ill luck. Hell in a hand basket plight usually generates
nostalgia for destiny to Carrie be back to Ole Virginny.

Sage advice from Christine, Delores Claiborne, or The
Colorado Kid, yours truly blithely heeded. As a result
(The Outsider within this paperback writer wannabe)
sports defeat written all over face. Concomitant figurative
futility gussies and kickstarts leaving invisible pockmarks.

Ordinary Dreamcatcher fate invariably finds aptly named
Writer Errs Block. Need to back track arises (figuratively)
along vista. The roads have no name. They command
stubborn respect. Near impossible mission manifested
to transcend mental hindrance. This more difficult than
playing Gerald's Game. Hence sigh embrace The Shining

opportunity to avoid Misery. Doctor Sleep would undoubtedly
encourage braving, challenging self confronting The Eyes
Of The Dragon. Such a risky pursuit could force facing pitbull
Cujo. No matter gamble foisted prospect fraught frightfully
being burned at the stake by a Firestarter. Voluntary action

brings small hairs to tingle. Hunchback, sans severely curved
spine straightens. This (The Stand) ding pose offered supreme
vision as promised by The Talisman. Tidbits by me alias
Mr. Mercedes reddit carefully Just in case The Girl Who Loved
Tom Gordon chanced to stumble upon this redoubt versus
her hours spent staring at a blinking cursor. Metaphorical
po' wet ick feet took me where they would.
CharlesC Feb 2013
My work yesterday
I pursued with fire..
dead letters burned
letters with news
for countless intended
recipients Unknown..
news shadowed or light
these notifications of
paths NOT taken
met their end by
my flaming torch..
My role as destroyer
carried my reverie
ignited a wish
a blessing and curse
to finally know NOT..

My work today
new letters appear..
copying not burning
yet sorrows abide in
slow repetitive death..
I must rise
stand tall
Find face and soul
in that wall..
I must proclaim
I prefer NOT..
PREFER
this delicious word..
freedom's choice
tasted with short
bursts of joy..

Facing my wall
searching for NOT
into emptiness flowed
a bright wholeness
of  letters and light..
but a price to be paid
for other's disdain
they are forgiven for
not knowing NOT..
NOT holds those
letters I've known..
Ah humanity...*

Based on Herman Melville's
short story, "Bartleby
the Scrivener"
hum...habit...hic...abbott woozy
celebrating with British Royal Family
     and...hub bout red dee
     to take a snoozy
sup...par'n...this poet
     fur...hib bit..bing a lil oozy.

Now this raggedy man
whilst deep in sleep
this past night what felt like galactic body
     fell upon ma slumbering heap
affecting immediate fear
     lest worst nightmare,
     would crush with might
but lo…just then zee spouse
     plunked herself
     with unconsciousness deep
unable to recapture pleasant dreams
     well nigh past day light.

So...rather than emit shrieks
     like some angry birds
the idea arose to attempt poem
     to express discombobulated state

whereby grey matter feels
     similar to thick whey curds
palliative sans restorative power
     per rest will clear muddled pate

thick with grogginess
     and marauding herds
of mailer daemons worse
     than unsuitable mate

or a world wide web filled with nerds
thus lethargy purged
     via catharsis with forming words
that follow rhyming pattern
     to convey mood = to a synonym for turds.

respite from a cat nap as tonic no lion here
can spell relief and serve as balm
with pillowed temptress ever near
beckons softly inviting calm

before this human
     goes a berserk manic tear
being revisited from haunts
     inside head of this scrivener
caught by men in white coats
     strait jacketing this maniac

     in tattered under wear
whose ***** by the way
     oh about the size of an average palm
yet taut for witnessing
     deux score plus eighteen mortal year.
Lawrence Hall Dec 2018
“…and looking at a picture on the opposite wall.”

                          -C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Ikons are windows to another World
Of Theos and Theotokos, of our saints
Some as merry as yet are others stern
While forming from the prayerful writer’s 1 hand

And in the saints the Light of God shines through
True witnesses to that transcendental Truth
And so we pause and with a candle catch
The prayer-light of their eternity

(As does the bedes-spider 2 who lives there)
Ikons are windows to that truer World


1 In Orthodoxy an ikon is said to be written rather than drawn or painted, but y’r ‘umble scrivener is no authority; the reader might begin a study of ikons / icons with:

http://www.pravmir.com/how-to-sep-up-an-icon-corner-at-home/

2 An Orthodox friend discovered that a spider had made its home among his ikons, and so in peace and hierarchical obedience the little creature served God as a sort of canon, or perhaps a bedes-spider, until its death.
Lawrence Hall May 2017
Adventures with an Olivetti

(In which the scrivener violates his rule never to write in the first-person)

My bed was a Sears & Roebuck sleeping bag
And my world headquarters that old MG;
An Olivetti portable processed
My words, my fresh young words, that no one read

I owned more books than clothes, and only those few
That could be stowed in the passenger seat;
I fancied myself the new Rod McKuen
And I wasn’t - but I remember the road

When the world was new, adventures every day
And I miss that - but mattresses are nice
index finger of left hand
     (likened to Michelangelo
meticulously chiseling away
     at marble block), this poe
whit attempts to coax (zealously
     tap into his latent indivisible quo
shunt, sans self imposed

     quotidian literary endeavor slow
lee witnessing, an emergent
     reasonably satisfactory, though
hooping unbeknownst readers
     (perchance even a scribe from Yugo
Slav via) will only resort
     to lard out positive unsolicited feedback,

yet this scrivener well aware
bluntness evokes
     fulfillment loud and clear
inflating jowly machismo thru ether
narcissist quintessential rabid glare
     unpretentious vain warbling yakking

     zither plucking boastful demonstrably
     fatuous haughtily immodest luminaire
dismissively smug,
     sans literary endeavor aye share
thus, tis one objective when attempting
     to corral rampant thoughts,

     (that charge hither and yon, to and fro)
     at pace of greased lightening tear
chasing hash-tagged elusive
     Smokey and the Bandit
imp posse sub bull
     back to the future of 1977 year  

temporarily abandoning awoke
motive, i.e. initial challenge,
     viz going for broke
to sweat blood and tears
     digging deep within noggin, or choke
myself if merely draw blanks

     versus (beginners blind luck), and evoke
accolades accidentally
     tapping into creative
     (qua literary) mother lode
     joining belle lettres authored folk,
whose metier comprises compendium

     of alphabetized words
     receiving surprising windfall
     asper pig in a poke,
novel idea after nostrils emit smoke
the amazing dragon
     within (sol fully bellows)  
     finding me to feign taking a smoke

aware fame and fortune,
     where a written best seller brings renown
can essentially only be verbalized
     as a pipe dream from this clown,
who best **** sitter
     living hard scrapple

     (scrabble playing) hand to mouth shuffling
     along (the littered boulevard
     of rejection slips)
     wearing out one after
     another of me buster brown

shoes, perhaps posthumously
     gleaning raving reviews,
where famous names
     amidst cadre (espousing
     wife fours smiting
     social injustices extant loose

zing potential harmonic convergence,
     whether gentiles or Jews
throughout all foursquare corners
     of the world wide web
an economic eclectic diaspora,
     where underbelly of civilization
     pay heaviest ****** dues!
less than twenty four hours after dashing off a poem
   explaining why i wanted to die
found me experiencing physical duress vis a vis,
   a bowel movement wherein waste unable to expel

   from the **** of this guy
which bout with ****** obstruction
   found me doubled over
   with lower abdominal distress

   whereby comfort found me unable to lie
down nor sit upright (with back padded with pillows
   against the cellar brick wall),
   thus severe bloating a bonus well nigh

and managed to muster the means to bare
   frigid arctic vortex aire to purchase
   the Acme brand Metamucil,
   which akin to drano doth ply
thru the excretory tract
   supposedly loosening the stools,

   which optimism (product
   didst earn claim to fame) generated a sigh
if that expressed intent
   to cease livingsocial would try

humph enjoining
   this lvii year old married male
   to cede victory
   to the grim reaper, who would vie

as winner de jure
   to this common fellow invoking libretto
   ohm resistant understudy waste not want not
allowing, enabling and providing relief,
   without successful defecation

   despite the oppressive urge to bolster this uriah
heap of balled up and tuckered i.e. pooped out
   five foot and ten inches of lovely bones
   thence mouthing retraction
   of former thought to cease existing,

though a non-bull lever
   in any power broker qua mankind
   relief at long last
   provided posterior answered prayer
   yet, this scrivener scrutinizes
   his recurring pain in the *** jagged torture
   and asks
   a rhetorical one word question "WHY"?
help me if you can, cuz salutary
     hans solo impossible missions
     fall short asper this mwm to break free,
     thus Siam game for heroic measures to wrest
sill loose, gnome hatter
     remaining time on Earth
     strong arm gull lancing tactics

     aye need to vest
from perverted imps stranglehold
     upon healthy existence
     will resort to extreme thine body electric
     (serves as kool aid base sic acid) test
hosting ocd (analogous to a
     suckling leech happy fiend)

     disallowing this mwm
   (similar to Sir Issac Newton) begs to take a rest
nurses nourishment feeding off host
     (thyself) linkedin, sans sybaritic symbiotic,
     excising unhealthy sycophantic relationship
     long term ultimate quest
shucking loose obsessive pest

     compulsive disorder moocher
     drilled deep into psyche tub billed a nest
which bred a hardy crop that messed
up with my enjoying life tooth ha max,
     viz parasitic, opportunistic,
     narcissistic fealty must stop lest
asphyxiation undermines ability to jest
as if deadly poison
     this chap (as a kid) accidentally did ingest

hence this attempt at plaintive pleading
     for mental health professional
     took hum at my be hest
a much more welcome guest
versus nemesis grounded rivaling mount Everest
that tis all i write unloading off my chest
an agile, fertile, and nimble sprite
     who already out best
this scrivener,  now  completed poem
    confiding bugaboo aye attest.
Lawrence Hall Jun 2019
We read that all functionaries in the Moscow Kremlin use typewriters and messengers for in-house communications.

Typewriters cannot be hacked.  The cleverest listening devices aboard lurking submarines and in space spy craft can pick up the tap-tap-tap of a typewriter, but cannot interpret an e-tap from a g-tap.

Better still, typewriters break down only every twenty years or so.  No typewriter sends you a message that the Microsoft Word lifetime package you bought has no existence, and that you must buy it again, nor does it give you a blue screen because it has no screen at all. A typewriter tells you nothing; you tell the typewriter with the nimbleness of your mind and fingers, and it obeys.

Beyond that, one does not imagine Vladimir Putin passing idle evenings playing Candy Crush. Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia crush, maybe.

A computer, any computer, unlike the manly typewriter, often suffers the Aunt Pittypat vapors and falls into a faint, calling weakly for smelling salts.

Thus the brevity of this column.

Y'r 'umble scrivener has spent much of a beautiful spring day attempting to coax Aunt Pittypat into waking up and doing a little work:

But all Microsoft's horses (I was thinking of another quadruped, but the name is not appropriate for a family newspaper)

And all Microsoft's persons

Could not make Aunt Pittypat anything but worsens. (That's not a real word)

A personal computer is outdated before you get it home from the Godzilla Box Store, and this moribund machine is some four years old. In dog years that is...something; I forget what.

Tomorrow morning I am off to buy the cheapest machine I can find, for personal computers are as disposable as toilet paper.

I will pass another beautiful spring day re-installing programs and apps (because I am good about backing up all my files) and addresses and all the tiny little dragons that speed along its circuits, and by next week should have a brilliant and well-crafted story to tell you.

May your electrons never fail.

-30-
Keith W Fletcher Mar 2017
from an eighteen year absence as I stood staring into the silver surface
awaiting the appearance as she would once again  part the mirrors glaze
sudden thrill of foreboding anxiety passes across me as ribbon of silk lace
or that momentary nostril flair when a sudden snare of rarified air plays
havoc on the ancient receptors nearly forgotten as aromatic sprites pass
along those corridors memories reside and sometimes hide behind doors of this maze
awash in the dusty overlay of that which still seeking to delay realities consistently amass
when a graphic form of de ja vu breaks thru passing and suddenly does appear
as calm still silver slightly shivers then parts to deliver the hand and then humanistic form
to reach for the rounded edge of porcelain solidity gasping in  oxidized atmosphere
i watch decades lost disappear as if only yesterday i stood here and again this the norm
in wordless anomalous aplomb i watch her face apperceive my image as i etch the scene
so intent upon my scrivener scrawl in my rush to capture all onto my minds private wall
that only in the faintest of my subconscious can i recall the echo call my name as she covered all distance between
attaching herself in ways far beyond the physical bond and thru time uncertain beyond the curtain we fall
tumbling into that void where nothing exists outside that infinitesimal moment of infinity
with the eventual return to the constraints passing back thru the curtain and time certain reapplied
once again the prisoner of the laws of time space and the reality of gravity
plans made to meet later to catch up with those details with smile i say thank you for that ride
her eyes twinkle and i know with absolute certainty she understood exactly what i meant
that is why she said i still do this everyday as i am addicted to that moment when Einsteins laws don't exist
then with laughter she denied me an answer to the question on my face later she said and up she went
so i paused at the door to watch her grace from a hundred feet high she bounced and leaped into the air then i saw  what i had just missed

for there she was not going up and not coming down  suspending all physical laws and she was unbound  weightless and free and addicted

and right then i had to admit to myself ....i was a bit jealous but nowhere  near as brave as i watched her reenter that mirror.
less than twenty four hours after dashing off a poem
   explaining why i wanted to die
found me experiencing physical duress vis a vis,
   a bowel movement wherein waste unable to expel

   from the **** of this guy
which bout with ****** obstruction
   found me doubled over
   with lower abdominal distress

   whereby comfort found me unable to lie
down nor sit upright (with back padded with pillows
   against the cellar brick wall),
   thus severe bloating a bonus well nigh

and managed to muster the means to bare
   frigid arctic vortex aire to purchase
   the Acme brand Metamucil,
   which akin to drano doth ply
thru the excretory tract
   supposedly loosening the stools,

   which optimism (product
      didst earn claim to fame) generated a sigh
if that expressed intent
   to cease livingsocial would try

humph enjoining
   this lvii year old married male
   to cede victory
   to the grim reaper, who would vie

as winner de jure
   to this common fellow invoking libretto
   ohm resistant understudy waste not want not
allowing, enabling and providing relief,
   without successful defecation

   despite the oppressive urge to bolster this uriah
heap of balled up and tuckered i.e. pooped out
   five foot and ten inches of lovely bones
   thence mouthing retraction
   of former thought to cease existing,

though a non-bull lever
   in any power broker qua mankind
   relief at long last
   provided posterior answered prayer
   yet, this scrivener scrutinizes
   his recurring pain in the *** jagged torture
   and asks
   a rhetorical one word question "WHY"?
this middle aged rue stirring ******
   haint no stranger to cold,
when dark hen stormy wintry days
   eggs hit from Arctic portal en fold
ding Atlantic Seaboard

   in a blizzard of bitterly, blindingly, and
   brutally sub zero temperatures
   from an occasional nor'easter
   fiercely gripping hold

the majority years, sans this prolific
   recalcitrant scrivener lived
   in various and sundry abode
   housed within Southeastern
   Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
   with 19* zip code,

and during my boyhood recall,
   how massive ice sheets did erode
the (then) opened expansive farmland,
   in preparation for planting time,

   where runnels of frigid water flowed
with childish cheeks exposed to glowed
after hours upon
   many a green acre got tilled and hoed

despite feeling energized and refreshed
   with arms and legs n'er fro zen
aye didst eagerly await with exuberant yen
kickstarting thy body electric

   experiencing hearthstone nook
   designed and built by Christopher Wren
after heading indoors counting fingers
   and toes to make sure, i still got ten

soon hearing the chorus of fauna,
   and floral kaleidoscope of color
   aground or taking wing
thus, upon thawing out thoughts
   drifted toward approaching spring,

the season revitalizing
   dormant natural inhabitants,
   whose excite (like mine) didst ping
announcing the debut of fecundity
nsync with screeching from the lizard king.

This Spring Equinox (i.e. man date:
   12:15 PM Tuesday,
   March twentieth two thousand eighteen)
doth rejuvenate
   inviolable hibernating animals

   and plants, and me equate
to experience sensation,
   whereby entire being does inflate
and (despite marital status),

   nonetheless envisions another gal asthma mate
no...no...no...please do not think this chap
   mean spirited and under rate
the woman (at present taking a siesta,

   and i breathe easy),
   who oft times doth henpeck, a trait
inherited many a chic hen
   (with tantalizing tail feathers)
   now (until she awakens)
   proscribing yours truly to wait

for my repast most likely ad hoc
moist ideal for any nerdy kid to knock
senseless, the worst facet of self important ****
   consisting of pop slop mock
Hungarian Goulash, a melange
   of relics from age old meals
   transformed into a petrified sawed little rock.
this me stir wordsmith sits alone
   playing knick knack paddy whack
   please give this dorky, goofy, loopy,
   nerdy, nippy nap noopy quirky
   and wordy proto simian dodging,

   erstwhile shadowy bogeyman
   more'n a herring or sun bleached wish bone
ambitious to experience
   auditory voice o'er telly phone.

the immediate reaction sans per
   using this reply might be to toss
   in circular file (perchance
   already bid good riddance
   with previous ******* o mine)

   such wordy response away
since mine hoop for reply per non-conformity
   chances = yar come me own nitty chest
   at least 69 oceans at bay

boot, the following bit of personal trivia
   merely meant to convey
an atypical manner from this older mwm
   with some follicles of gray,

who enjoys balmy spring time temperatures
   basking in the sun during warm
   (pine scented) months of ape purr rill
   and coveted dayz o may unless being chased
   by ferocious beast of prey,

   though, i readily admit not to be a marathon runner
hoping golem like creature will
   (upon stern request) stay,
   nor does this generic guy participate
   in competitive sports 'cept sea man of a gunner

knows life doth newt always hap pin his way
which wood prompt this tiger to go yea.
this self anointed bard of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
   lives a rolling stones away

   from u2 and moody blue who
felt avaricious, chivalrous,
   efficacious, impetuous, spontaneous
   to be earnest, frank and stine true
value bull ambitious to ply cognitive,

furtive, intuitive skills to ponder and rue
literary challenges
   might bring out bovine prompting moo
goo pan a ply per this guy

   maybe absorbing symbiotically genius abilities
   from imaginary asian figure named hu,
or his identical twin brother mister ma goo
who joost happens
   to be exemplary anime portrait
   stick figures ma phalanges drew.

unsure if this written metier reply will bomb
or fly from an older scrivener,
who resides in perkiomen valley
   nestled analogous to hand held palm
housing this fella

if (the operative word) drafted with winning
   moost definitely cause for fait accompli
   to acquire nothing short of an hock cult following
   from alf fred meta for like qualm,

   your ordinary run of the millet harry, **** chain e
   or thumbing my nose at pained tom.
this aging boomer anglophile tends to go overboard
   with english vocabulary word

aspiring to attain apex of plaudits and praise
   as being witty n creatively superb
n pardon if i submitted a similar facsimile thereof
   sans the following blurb
which moost likely will (o perhaps already)
   goot tagged as absurd.

   i call myself the muster shake e spear
   n sigh ah bard from Spring Mount hills
stumbles along boulevard of broken dreams
   with other jack hammer sons and jills

donning penchant to feign being troubadour
   with faith nor more
   where words akin to virtual skein of twirls and trills.
sorry if my impulsiveness drain ya bob bing out of sync
with mainstream formality to establish a link,

this generally sane, sensible sober older fellow
   no matter, you might presume me
   to take one to many **** kin r drink,
boot in truth, this teetotaler
   shies against various amber liquids of the dogs
   evoke king mental green day n chooses holistic methods
   to rejoice than evoking that clink.

i matthew scott alias [email protected] = knot a slob
   could moost certainly benefit from friendship
   with one or being part of a mob
hence this rather goofy atypical reply i lob

(while gently inhaling)
   imaginary ushered by hand carved corn cob.
anyway, this aspiring scribe/scrivener
   de jure shoe lee mastered his a, b, c's,

though during test time
   all learning seemed to freeze
oh and although the follow
   wing non-sequitur added comment

   moost likely irrelevant
   back in the day o me early boyhood,
   i passed initiation nail biting rite of passion
   tickling ivory black n white keys
while learning about human species.

Can I help you???
who doth like 2 gab a boot
i yam no goth thick ****** villain frum a no vile root
boot kin zee writer iz 4 re:al - here my hand there my lil shoot.

ma gray matter nada mess
of 50 shades of gray more o less
2 impress
than sentiments for female passion i metaphorically express.

this me stir wordsmith viz Bartleby the scrivener
   wordsmith doth sit alone
   playing knick knack paddy whack
   please give this dorky, goofy,
   loopy, moody, nerdy, quirky
   n wordy proto simian artfully dodging
   the erstwhile shadowy bogeyman
   more'n a herring or sun bleached wish bone
communication skills daily he doth hone
awaiting 2 convey an auditory
   familiar voice message on the telly phone.

   i readily admit not 2 be a dusty huffing marathon man
   using me phallus as a leg like runner
hoping said golem like creature will
   (upon my stern request) stay
   nor does this generic guy participate

   in any competitive reindeer games nor sports
   type son of a gunner
who knows life doth newt always go this way
which wood prompt to snag the eye
   of one tiger esse to roar with a yay.

this self anointed beastie boy bard of schwenksville, penna lives
   just a rolling stones away
   from u2 and you know moody blue who
felt avaricious, chivalrous, efficacious,

   impetuous, spontaneous view
especially with...a gal 4
   ma doo *** motley crue
2 be earnest, frank and true

n would be ambitious 2 ply
   my cognitive, furtive, intuitive
sans this salient knight thee ma sought
   after queen kin ponder n rue
computer technical challenges

   that might bring out bovine prompting a moo
maybe absorbing symbiotically genius abilities
   from one imaginary asian figure named hu
or his identical twin brother mister ma goo.
Jabbering Ignominious Hypocrite Gabbles - against the backdrop of gross unbridled viscous wracking zealotry bruiting extinguishing inherent national trust...  

Poetic Introduction:

I wax and wane rhapsodic
plus prosaically politic
aware severe erosion
of American democracy
over run by narcissistic
over stuffed ego-freezer,
whose vocabulary
extremely laconic
foe swash buckling braggadocio
commander in chief
not gun shy
to brandish (hugely
bully like) jingoistic
tirade unleashing horrific
banshees more'n 10, 000
foo fighting maniacs
(nemesis of liberty) fatalistic
to sanctity of
United States democracy
throw back at him bigly,
his woeful treachery,
quasi xenophobic, tragic,
and lunatic bred anarchy!

Each ticking second of every single day, the pensive, doughy face execrably debased “dunderhead” criminal commander in chief (trumpeting acrimonious, calumnious, egregious...yakking), while donned in gay apparel) trumpeting lunatic, jingoistic, ideology imbues heretic catalysts.

Thou art unduly seething, quaking, and oozing mercurial kindling ideological glommed ethos of mine. These atrocious blaspheming, castigating, denigrating, excoriating, fulminating gross humiliations imply jerkiness, kookiness, lunacy.

No! Not for one more term can this acidulous, indecorous Mandates need outspoken politicians quickly removing this utterly vile wicked Xerses.

Thus spoke Zarathustra (without blandishment) to me, a gluten and monosodiumglutinate free, NON-GMO non-alarmist, nonestablishmentarian, nor ham aye a nihilist.

Yukon just **** sitter me a copacetic, energetic, ironic language lover (English is ma lingua franca late mother tongue), who waxes poetic, but tall so one babbling, creaking, and dabbling dis arming marine naval (gazing) scrivener expressing stance toward thee present lord save us (Te Deum) included despite admitting to espouse atheistic tendencies.

This “FAKE” president aces at blabbing acerbic, caustic, empathetic, fatalistic hoary jabbering mishmash!

I aim to affect a chain reaction while this paunchy dumpling remains in office, whereat he flirts, debases, colludes, with amoral, diabolical, execrable horrible ingrates.

His see-through debonair, imposter nuanced orbit poseur quite revealing sans, (inviting guests, sans agents provocateurs to join his all-star ensemble of mailer daemons, lampoon kickstarting imps of the pervert further underscores this delusional faux equalitarian huckster as an unqualified commander in chief!

A flourishing gesticulation (hocus – pocus) kindles, flickered and evinces braggadocio. This pantomime a charade, facade, inlaid limp odiousness. Via compounding gall, he makes official indiscriminate ******* legislation all the exempting himself and kin.

Smug slinking, sneering, sporting antics attempt to cocoon diabolical, horrible laws (automatically abrogating, evading, flaunting every decree, whereat he affixes his signature). This absolute zero with dangerous liaisons significantly, knowingly, and increasingly shortens the metaphorical burning fuse.

He sets the figurative and literal global shaky sphere stage setting off a global conflagration. If privy with box office seat, you will rub shoulders with guest appearances sans, worldwide webbed sheep in wool clothing faux allies.

These Janus faced grungy beastie boys, cagily, edgily cadge facile self-possessing knack to acquire fruitful knick knacks (paddy whacks give their dog a bone), which forsaken good and plenty treats blithely, blindly, blandly exchanged at the emotional, financial, and spiritual expense of American taxpayers.

This collusion to fiddle (while Rome burns), gamble and mollycoddle with turncoats actually, demonstrably, generously favors these chameleon nemeses.

Poetic Polemic Bookends this rant:

Though poor (financially),
this figurative anchorite
doth no longer
wanna feel powerless
against bicameral blight
thus approaching 2020 election...
uneasily doth excite.
Gemini pen Aug 2020
Title: Caeser at Lucifer's Mission
Theme: The Aesthetic of Poets
A duet by : Prince Jayeola ( Golden Son)
                   :  Fuad Opeyemi (Gemini)

Solid heart like the mountain Everest
Circumflex to the Raven, Bring up the agon
in our midst, Like a dove,  we still remain
Challenge come about us
Still,  we overcome the hurdles like hills
               🙇Golden son 🙇

Kvell Cadres of scrivener,  
Harness styluses to tattoo on thin sheets
Poets,  goblet of endowment,
Pivoting throe to gladdened symphony
Soothing the ear of grief dwellers
                 🙇Gemini🙇

Clear out barrel of hate,  
Come apart,  enmity show less on our ballad
We do not bow down to race
Rather,  we propel with grace,
With the sound of humour our poem emit
                🙇Golden son 🙇

The pen,  like a magicians's wand
Exploited by calibers of Versified bards
With a tip so sharp,  running in ink
Cynosure of Prying eyes,  like a drop -
Of dew on spinach, poet are Aesthetic
                🙇Gemini🙇  

We are "they are who? ",  certainly!
Armed to the teeth with our pens
Thinking of ill- hearted hearts to heal
As we dance to the dead beat of our bleeding pen
No,  tell the man in the street to flow off our den
                🙇Golden son 🙇

Rhymester's way is Slim and Narrow,
Like a thoroughfare to Gehenna
For we dine with words, A minstrel
muser are hero,  resident of valhalla,
For we are the fighter,  that fight with pen
                🙇Gemini🙇

We stand in the racket of ranks
And fight to mind our p's and q's,
Hardly do we hit below the belt
To avoid disruption of poets that que
We stand tall and play the game
                  🙇Golden son 🙇

Poets are Aesthetic,  alluring
That travaux over the lava-like ways of poesy
We are all a product of our genre
Yet,  living in the facade of exultation
Delusional,  caeser at Lucifer's Mission
                   🙇Gemini🙇

©Pen Of A True Gemini™
The bleeding Hearted Pen
©Prince Jayeola™
The Golden son

All rights reserved
This is a must read for all poets
studious skinny scruffy scribe

Scathing, scolding, screaming,
scorning, searing, sniggering,
sociopathic sarin soaked skewed
squirt, sputtering, squawking, sleepily
staggering, stabbing, swaggering
sweltering sadistic, sarcastic,

savage, systemically systematically
stigmatized, supersized saber sharp
schick shaving, shunned, sabotaged,
scarred, scorched, smote, sanguine,
stippled, speckled schizophrenic
sensibility, spurring, seething,

somewhat stultified, sophisticated,
spellbound spirited scabrous
schlemiel schlemazel, stenciled,
sundered sniveling sanguine storied
snakebitten sojourning *******,
skeptical shoddy sophomoric

screwball, subtly sagacious,
stunted, sclerotic, scrappily
shuffling short, Shylock
styled sideburns Semite,
sainted Shasta sipping
shriveled sad sack,

sullenly syncopated, synthesized,
slobbering sybaritic, scruffy
sheepish sketchy scalawag,
Socratically scrutinizing, seizure
stricken, stoically sneezing,
shamed Skidrow skeezer, shifty,

sweaty, sham shaman,
supremely spidery, schmaltzy,
sylan seeking subsidized succor,
self shuttered, sequestered,
sidelined, shiftless, shabby,
semantically snazzy, soldiering,

shrieking, skulking, somber,
stooping, Segway scootering,
schmart spendthrift, Swahili
speaking, straitlaced, streamlined,
spongebobbing, sandal shod
sealegs, squarepants sporting

spectacles, sedate, sensate,
sentient, ship shaped,
shanghaied, salubrious,
slithering, snakish, stuttering,
sluggish, smashface scarred,
sober, solitary, sangfroid

skidamarink singing, Shamokin
speaking scrivener, scuzzy,
spunky, starved, submissively
suicidal, sunburned,
salaried shuffling senescent
snoutish soundcloud shutterflying
snapchatting schnorrer.
Mortal Mind Matthew Scott Harris
ENTER YOUR OWN RISK!

Seedy gobbledygook ergot
visibly argot bubbled, burbled, bustled...forth
yea...give garbled, jangled, warbled shoutout
if ye doth render
mug gadabout totally confounding,

this unfettered voluminous confection
ruff lee in toto as sample
doggone freelance gargon
sublime red rover - misaligned with
twenty first century time

emerging, fishtailing, kvetching,
slithering, whipsawing
during springtime
thaw - oozing out primordial slime,
schlepping aboard bissel mishuga train

while kibitizing with longfellow
ghost hosts Bartleby,
thee Herman Hermits,
and Stray Cats caterwauling
scrivener circumlocution showtime
evidences troubadour prima facie

tremendous struggle rustling rational rapport,
ruminating, citing his dismal schooltime
track record muddled, and hence
questing to cobble a rhyme
distilling, harvesting, and

leaching (out pulpy, knotty,
Max Headroom Ancien regime
filmy... gray matter) in realtime,
while strains of Ragtime echo
from late nineteenth century

tin pan alley, nsync, linkedin
cubist, dadaist, existentialist...
mine poetic melange jerry rigs
flashes random discordant phrases
kickstarting hotmail...faintly

analogous to processing quicklime
mucking with abstract alphabetic
mire ranks as playtime
forging whimsical tactical trippy thoughts,
nursing eternal idealistic Earthly peacetime,

worrying away looming mortality,
noshing post death as pastime,
welcomes input and alien abduction – ME,
mine "FAKE" existence, sans charade,
facade, masquerade onetime pantomime,
no second act allowed, nor

revising questionable tour de force
I claim NO pièce de résistance, nor overtime,
asper waning game
of thrown away Life
approaches nighttime haven

soon...forever rest in peace
surrendering requisite burnt offerings,
sans (cremated ashes) - meantime
fete grateful dead
scythe lent hoodlums on warpath

to incite bedlam
postprandial mealtime prayer final -
deathly hallowed gleeful grimace
witnessing successful electroshock therapy

of yours truly emotionally frozen
decades long comatose state
thankfully oblivious, when impending
curtain call signals finis!
Lawrence Hall Feb 2017
Your 'umble scrivener must be cleared every few years by Homeland Security for permission to teach as a part-time adjunct faculty of no status whatsoever at his little cinder-block community college. This began under President Bush. President Obama did not end it.  President Trump is for now making yuge deals or something.*

A Shining Checkpoint on a Hill

There is within this body no pedigree
And the DNA is hardly worth knowing
No yellow star, kennkarte, or ausweis
No tribal identification card

Form 3078, TSA Pre(checkmark)®
FEMA security clearance, TWIC card
NEXUS, SENTRI, Proof of Residency
USDA HSPD-12 card

A Costco card – oops, failure to renew:
Say, will a Barnes & Noble membership do?
dating back circa: Age of computer antiquity
mine signature worthless gibberish
found Earthling dumbfounded
for further waste of time inquire
about trivial details constituting
more'n six electronic new pages
the following an excerpt from book of
Matthew Scott Harris.

Courtesy of AskJeeves,
and special acknowledgement
to Google search algorithm, this anachronistic
Travelocity bing Ray Orbitz son cent
reincarnate with good n Plenti
of LegalZoom dost Lyft
me Wii Progressive poise, an are dent
lee boosts bonhomie duty
BuzzFeed ding on Fancy Feast

honesty coalesces into Elements
of style – suitable
to Strunk n White accolade gent
he blogs a fictitious vignette
taking add Vonage of Samsung
a viz zit from Clark Kent
one kickstarter for
incredible computer software programs
and sturdy Mainframe he kin lent.

Particular pattering patois,
prompts pathetic ploy
per poetic provenance readers
attempt to plow headstrong
into skein of lettered litter thicket
of Vanity Fair verbiage,
y’all count Outlook incorporating
what he doth **** sitter
tubby hottest n coolest
common nanobots
pinging, skittering n thriving
within binary bitmap
digital boot not embittered, nor a quitter
an unseen electronic/
microscopic realm Weeknd
snapchat tweet and twitter.

Countless applications
constitutes information superhighway
(thanx Al Gore), this computer addict
plucked from wing

of broken kin prayer
while Samsung and Delilah -
hiz significant thing
hearty soulful byte size flickr
patented technological silent ringtone
signaling data communications packets
fueling hand held devices did ping.

Many automatic, cryptic,
esoteric, generic, intrinsic…et cetera
fiber optic pulsating stupefying vector
criss crossing, twas impossible
twin selection process
in virtual reality sector
which smattering of whatsapp
countless twenty first century human projector,
where computer applications anachronistically
don ensemble epistle
as mull logical nectar
I Trump petsmart
word smith re: scrivener effecter.

Shiloh Golong and describe,
which Apple of my eye
(amidst all the Core ****
sans millions of equally omitted,
yet equally appealing, enlivening,
incorporating, outsourcing Wans
et cetera populate virtual reality)
resonated within
Chrome moe so mull Bing vans?

Skype n Angry Bird If ya need
to take Avast break
please Compaq to this
Dell a where Century21,
Foursquare Hotmail seeks Joyus mirth
from Instagram Pennsylvania,
who (despite eternal Allianz
with Uber youth)
witnessed The Birth of Cosmos -
hiss story give or take
a million years, I remember
literate Geico caveman
discovering Victoria’s Secret
how Kindle took a Tumblr,
when Tinder lit Circuit City gone amiss!

This Earthlinked, Googly eyed
(brown), Hotmail wannabe
paperback writer
(pseudonym name Page Turner)
dwells in Bell Atlantic
thinking about notions as:
Airgas, Comcast, Excelon…. Verizon
plus responding to classified advertisements
x spearmint ting feigning myself
tubby Youtube star bachelor
hoop ping to dance with female stars
accidently twerk ma Sovereign
Palm Pilot size rear!
No sense of accomplishment prevails to date
analogous to kudzu... inadequacy runs rampant
recurring theme extant within poetic endeavors,
and often discussed with assigned therapist (one
among many girls named Stephanie Dodds) do
GOOGLE search and see for yourself – similar

curiosity got the better of me, whose christened
name (Matthew Scott Harris), not unique to yours
truly, a poem, which theme pertaining to aforesaid
first, middle, and last namesake already written by
none other other than this scrivener) impacted self
esteem less so than inchoate nascently, pervasively

rampantly,... thrashing unleashed upon impression
hubble early (perhaps even in utero) formative days
of milne eeyore whinnying pooh wrenching, ruing
jackknifing...unsmiling, lamenting childhood's end
upon cusp debilitating psychological tragedy, where
whatsapp pining within me present mindset lodged

nexus, sans linkedin destructive buzzfeeding apathy
mired potential vitality (crying evinced powerful
lungs) quickly succumbing against brutish, nasty,
yet not short reign of innate oppression, fixation
abnegation with dereliction, asper self preservation
engendering feeble gesticulation harkening incipient

personhood crowdsourcing courtesy condemnation
damning existential insignificance motif possibly
adopted comparing not fancy free and footloose
demeanor toward none other than Boyce Brandon
Harris, thee papa, jack of all trades, (many taught
thru his own quick learning penchant), numberless

abilities + storied vocation - mechanical engineer
equalled one smart polymath strengths constantly
reiterated by mother (dearest long since deceased)
agog how papa excelled at most every endeavor,
i.e. vocational career at General Electric (aerospace
engineer) in conjunction with bajillion avocations,

hence finding his sole son (second of three progeny)
when only yeah high (a scrawny, skinny, spunky...
little boy) internalizing heaping accolades bestowed
strong, not so dark, modestly handsome biological
paternal parent with (rocking) round the clock timely
adulation, which praise papa similarly received soon
after blessed birth April ninth ninety twenty nine.
while figuratively hunting
and pecking around me noggin
force hum theme to write about
lo and behold, the solution
stared me right in front
of my little **** nub nose with gentle clout

cuz, as an avid bookworm, the dictionary,
I enjoy expending hours
to drink up etymological history
relating to the origin and
historical development of words

and their meanings.
with no shadow of a doubt
and most times, this animatronic,
the technique of making and operating

lifelike robots, typically for use
in film or other entertainment
dogmatic, enigmatic fugee dooby
brother beastie boy
(actually a mwm) dislikes to flout
his abilities, hobbies, interests,

as aches hike kant imagine being treated for gout
a disease in which defective metabolism
of uric acid causes arthritis, especially
in smaller bones of the feet, deposition
of chalkstones, and episodes of acute pain.

Boot lemme return full circle
to thematic core curriculum aye started to aim
and express gratitude
to the ghost of Noah Webster,
who gets credit yet also blame

if some snide haughty guttersnipe,
some slovenly individual feels snubbed,
and hence, living personage, said descendent(s)
of oblivion, whatever unknown
man or woman to living persons

stake a valid claim
that his/her many generations removed
heir (Harris), and or heiress ancestor (proven
with tangible researched reportage,
then cited with countless
prestigious explorers of English language),
that a daunting scrivener perhaps

even a courtesan or rich dame
rightfully ought to receive the fame,
thus such living relative might
upend the huck cult personality be game
to dare challenge secure historical niche

ambitiously held by Mark Roget (1779–1869),
British physician, natural theologian
and lexicographer. It was released
to the public on 29 April 1852.

The original edition had 15,000 words,
and each new matured edition
of the Thesaurus grew larger.
Ah...herewith ma usual
     dose of pablum from this meal
lee mouthed muttering
     doggerel wordsmith,
     who now writes...
     so here's the deal,
which reiterates a former zeal
namely, the pleasant feel
ling within this humble congenial

chap - thanking quasi fans heel
ling muss card (scarred) psyche
     poetically donning kneel
ling com pose sure (Colin
     Kapernick phonetic style, him
     an implacably steel)
lee strong willed
     up standing heal

dug into grid
     iron, albeit graciously
     poised ex NFL seal
sincere kick starter, -
     who nar squelched Nike ethereal
swooshing sensation (trumping
     formalities - "FAKE" dis claim er:
     "an anti-white rant") unreal

unsolicited accolades,
     he garners plaudits,
     perhaps stern prow esse
     harbored within angular
     chiseled features duet to har
     monic converging multiracial allele
more so than this undeserved
     reasonable rhyming scrivener,

     who expresses gratitude, sans
     mine quirky poetics do appeal
(Ozzy kin see), viz
     crazy train of thoughts
     loudly clattering within
     thine fracked corporeal weal.
Every last drop of fair
blood, sweat, and duct tear

via this hair
brain scheme - exhaust ting air
supply, none the
     less doth cheer
fully, and willingly
     oblige mine moody
     blue (oyster cult)
     route expressway gear

ring cog knish shun en dear
ring non vain err
row'n nee us heart
     felt ego boosting flair
courtesy (additionally
     asper this mare
reed snoop doggy dawg) veer,
really tantamount in

     tandem, sans 'ere
glad a$$ knight,
     and the pups
(chess, non queer,
yule less lee) though rare
lee emerges, while
     holed up in Grendel's lair,
viz bone a fide attempt,

     aye didst aim, square
lee, via ma stiff
     pointer sisters wear
illy to stitch metered
     faux paw prayer
reign hounds sing golden ear
ring three dogged
(arf fathers art in heaven...)

     mutter ring loud and clear
pro noun sub
     bull dog gone
     heart worm ming aire
wharf (fore art thou
     bow wow wing) sere
bus ling three
     dog night, and tare

re: not e'en if yer
adrip as a bit chin heat
let us whip pet smart
     and bark where,
umlaut no longer able
    
     e'en with mad dame butterfly,
     (a poor cage'n
     pooch sheen nee dear)
on par as
     excalibur with difficulty
     loosed fur over, thus conclude
     this tall tail excelsior.
As long term aspiring
     gurgling (stream of consciousness)
     paperback writer, there doth appear
an imponderable quandary

     most likely experienced
     by fellow neophyte authors,
     one pesky bugbear
that just dawned, (within the mind

     of this former tony
     MainLiner) crystal clear,
i would bet mine
     bottom dollar and declare

unequivocally established writers
     mentally tussled (or still do),
     how to accrue “Art of the book writing deal”
     contract subsequently endear

an increasing number of people,
     that definitely feel drawn
     to thy unique flavinoid flair
with words this scrivener displays,

     where oft times decrypting
     (mine block chain) dost jam
     at least one cerebral cog and gear
no matter how far away from me,

     this mind can telepathically hear,
colorful epithets, thus
     seriously considering donning,
     summoning, and trumpeting

     his swiftly tailored,
     harried styled interlinear
difficult to interpret ma Bella cos
     mean mien, thus ready

     (lock, stock and barrel)
     to ship me on a one way junketeer
attired in a combination
     all force he zen,

     (and Caesar) knitwear
and (thrift special red tag sale) leisurewear
oh...preferably gender neutral,

or specifically frilly pink menswear
which could be either
     day or nightwear

yet absolutely non gaudily
     outlandish most unlike
thine convoluted other worldly
     unfairly punishing stentorian

     verb hose noun sense sic cull
     idiomatic ling goo whist tricks
     driven by a harsh grammatical taskmaster,
     (nonetheless one

     gentle non-slavish overseer)
summoning positive
     feedback to reap peer
burgeoning my popularity,

     yet without being queer
yule us, yes...of course retaining rear
penchant inventively steer
ring an unsuspecting reeder

agonizingly testing their
pay shunts, perhaps inducing her/him
to race out the door like a a mad person
     clad with (impeach 45) underwear

calling for men/women in white coats
     to lock up Matthew Scott Harris
     possibly commuting his
     long runonsentence tea
     ching fellow inmates without ten year!

— The End —