Turning the maxim familiarity breeds contempt on it's head...       not just in time for Valentine's Day 
but the remaining days of our lives 
as the world turns 
on all our children 
the young and restless 
now grown to womanhood 
 
After being married 
for nearly three and a half score years, 
(our eldest daughter, 
will celebrate her twenty ninth birthday 
December 22, 2025, 
hence you dear reader do the basic math), 
I must admit a dynamic between me 
and the missus, a gal who ofttimes claims 
without a shadow of a doubt, 
when she first set eyes upon yours truly - 
a veritable stranger to her, 
whose lips of mine 
she hankered to plant a smooch, 
I would have gladly welcomed 
an unexpected pleasant kiss met, 
(this then handsome late twenty/early 
thirty something singular male 
deeply engrossed with his nose in a book 
while sitting on the steps 
outside of Summit Presbyterian Chu...  | 
  
  
  
       
      A (starry eyed) burst of creativity...       at approximately 
a painfully early o'clock in the morning 
give or take an o'clock 
found yours truly (me) amassing 
line after line of a poem 
crazily coalescing courtesy 
an extraordinary unfamiliar phenomena 
while living social within alien nation, 
said mental and physical explosion 
vis a vis fast flexing 
handy dandy appendages 
creating satisfactory verse in their wake 
materialized into an unexpected 
pièce de résistance, 
which brilliant tour de force 
quickly set the keyboard a smokin hot 
as fingers ripped across qwerty keyboard 
buzzfeeding outrageously madly 
(like the Flying Wallenda's 
tearing thru empty space 
while free falling into a net below 
after leaping off a tightrope wire) 
meanwhile analogous to yours truly, 
a dumbfounded Schwenksville scribe 
wrought ...  | 
  
  
  
       
      si tu t'appelles melancolie - oui       if your name is melancholy, 
the scant tidbits I know of French. 
  
perfect cold day to down 
a cup of hot chocolate, java or joe 
in tandem with an intelligent conversation 
that easily doth flow 
twould be more enjoyable 
than spending gobs o dough 
clowning around like Bozo. 
  
fingers click along 
at a rather moderate pace 
nonetheless this generic homo sapiens 
caught like amber in the human race 
i try feel quite cramped 
with madding crowds 
that take up more space 
and feel a nostalgic pang for times gone by 
when continuity of virginal woodlands 
across America did trace. 
 
I beseech thee 
with a gentle dare 
to please assist me with any literary flair 
but more so to help me answer 
a rather risque prayer 
and wonder if ye any 
leisure time and interest to spare 
to get down ...  | 
  
  
  
       
      Swath of pristine tractless snow white landscape...       tell tale sign where 
winter storm Demi left her mark. 
 
Beautiful and bountiful visual scene 
(seldom seen around 
tri-state geographic area 
for quite a few years, 
where temperate global warming 
spelled unseasonably warm winters) 
trumps the inauguration 
for breathtaking view. 
 
Immaculate conception birthed 
awesome aesthetic spectacular 
blinding heavenly creation. 
 
I feel humbled 
as an infinitesimal know nothing 
wrought into existence 
courtesy billions of years 
evolutionary fits and starts, 
and will exit stage door left 
barely impacting the cosmic schema. 
 
Memories accumulated across 
six plus decades astride oblate spheroid 
upon sixty plus shades of gray matter 
sights and sounds transiently, 
yet indelible impressions lasted a lifetime 
eventually taken to the gr...
  | 
  
  
  
       
      Yours truly (me) just got acclimated to writing 2024...       whenever I needed to append the date to a document 
 
Though the situation infrequently arose 
for me to incorporate the year (2024 in this case) 
or listen to a well trained 
beetle browed foo fighter 
named Jethro Tull 
(in honor of an English agriculturist 
from Berkshire who helped to bring about 
the British Agricultural Revolution 
of the 18th century by perfecting 
a horse-drawn seed drill in 1701 
that economically sowed the seeds 
in neat rows, and later developed 
a horse-drawn hoe) 
likened to lapsed hippie old fogey chap, 
(no much different from yours truly, 
an aging former 
long haired pencil necked geek), 
who in polite society 
does not give a rats ass, 
if I make a ridiculous roaring ruckus 
particularly after sneezing a bajillion times 
subsequently when the necessity arises 
to hunker down and expel 
globs of phl...  | 
  
  
  
       
      Zealous untiring repentance        
Fleshed out as poetic confessional. 
  
Profligacy prevailed pricking psyche 
precipitating pandemonium. 
 
I wrought havoc courtesy aegis 
of paramours picadillos, yours truly did relish 
crooning, clowning, and cavorting 
around at Piccadilly Circus 
located in Regent Street, Shaftesbury Avenue 
Piccadilly, Covent Street and Haymarket. 
 
Fast forward into the present 
meaning Christmas day 2024. 
 
Impossible mission to escape spectre 
analogous to black barbs 
blasted from BB gun 
painfully punctuating 
once pleasant orgasmic burbles. 
 
Emotional fallout analogous 
to radiation poisoning mein kampf 
killing me softly with feline purring, 
where I (a non believer) did lionize Lucifer. 
  
Marriage plus father/daughter 
unbridled edenic connection, 
especially once unsullied paternal bond<...  | 
  
  
  
       
      Folie à deux       ("shared madness," or "madness for two"). 
  
I suffer in silence, though not alone 
kvetching old curmudgeon (me) 
(once upon a time, a promising 
long haired pencil necked geek) 
buzzfeeding off life's miniseries 
of unedited miseries in tandem 
 
with ideal counterpart ofttimes 
easily mistaken for a clone 
Matthew Scott Harris 
(hunkered down in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania) 
unable to function without her 
(zee wife), he doth espouse as integral 
to calculus of his existence 
 
plus attributes wizardly 
powers within (yours truly) 
derived, high fived, and thrived courtesy 
(think symbiotic), 
quietly riotously quintessentially, 
nevertheless beloved hen pecking crone, 
we carrion and cavort 
  
(our respective wings 
beating at speed of sound) 
generatin...  | 
  
  
  
       
      Yours truly, a passive aggressive froward and forward counterpart seeking intelligent fine companion       A generally cerebral acquisition 
intertwining heterosexual generic guy, 
who first started dating gals, 
when a late teen/ 
early twenty something, 
who overcame his shyness 
courtesy consuming powder milk biscuits; 
usually described as 
"made from whole wheat 
raised in the rich bottomlands 
of the Lake Wobegon river valley 
by Norwegian bachelor farmers; 
so you know 
they're not only good for you, 
but pure... mostly. 
 
Buy them ready-made 
in the big blue box 
with the picture of the biscuit 
on the cover, 
or in the brown bag 
with the dark stains 
that indicate freshness. 
 
Whole wheat that gives 
shy persons the strength 
to get up and do 
what needs to be done, 
especially a then 
first time contra dancer 
such as yours truly – me! 
 
Heavens, they're tasty, an...  | 
  
  
  
       
      Though married yours truly (me)...       unabashedly dole out unadulterated 
indirect flattery to a porcelain moon goddess. 
  
I found myself figuratively 
falling head over heels 
inexplicably, cuz courtesy the website 
Prose |  A virtual community 
of readers and writers, 
an attractively enchanting female participant  
unwittingly, unsuspectingly and unknowingly 
triggered the writer 
of these words to become beguiled 
and emblazon the sentence 
mein kampf and hard times 
(ambiguous coded message) 
to further an electronic exchange 
of mutually assured emotional construction 
inadvertently, inextricably, and inordinately 
bending, forging, and nudging our lives to coincide 
with a mutually profound realm 
of hidden cerebrally orgasmic treasure, 
not unlike an archeologist 
accidentally stumbling upon a rare discovery  
of unknown persons 
(recording s...  | 
  
  
  
       
      Present wedded bliss ain't no touchstone...       double negative meaning golden years 
joie de vivre of married life unknown 
during our sputtering rancorous courtship 
when skirting within danger zone 
witnessed countless ruptures 
courtesy selfish wordsmith, 
who authored these words. 
 
Circa ~ late spring/ early summer 1978 
twas at behest of Harriet Harris, 
thus due credit mother dearest 
who tried, to bribe, coax, exhort... 
(protracted effort not all in vain), 
cuz her second of three progeny, 
and sole son i.e. (me) to 
commingle, frolic, immerse myself 
quintessentially ushering yawping zeal, 
cuz general disposition courtesy yours truly 
heavily trended toward solitude, 
limiting interpersonal opportunities 
minus those crafted, 
videre licet overactive imagination (mine). 
 
I took immediate affinity 
(think duck adapting to water) 
to milieu of contra dancing   |