No Inflated Cheekiness For This Logophile
I comport myself with quiet pridefulness,
plus intellectual whimsy
aware that "FAKE" pretentiousness,
could be mistaken foreign egotistical vitae
furthering, feathering and figuratively
undermining jestingly,
poetically, and zealously
oozing, gushing, bubbling over
with faux snobbish suave re:
pulse sieve literary fatuous
haughtiness, and ludicrous narcissistic pre
ning all the while chuckling to me
self, and indifferent if
some anonymous browser
with Dutchman's breeches rolled up
upon cresting wave over Zyder Zee
disparages mine harmless
badinage, hence if ye
might qualify as such nitpicker,
who doth cavil - dee
crying wading thru
quagmire of verbiage,
a gentle reply to thee
might be more wise to turn energy
toward, how in man... |
Oy vey iz mir, one day in the life of a common house broken schmeckle...,
who did pötschke
and squander many an opportunity
to become a mensch
instead he became persona non grata
condemned to a history of misery,
not unlike Doctor Hyde and Mister Jekyll,
where friends, Romans countrymen did heckle.
After all said and done,
I best have stayed
safe and sound in the womb,
or hopefully at the least honored after death
with a squadron of B-52s
flying overhead with vroom
while being enshrined in a tomb,
cuz the living years of yours truly (me),
one after another trial and tribulation did loom
which figurative weave
courtesy weft and warp wove gloom
ordained I experienced hell on earth,
thus an inescapable doom
left no option except to skadaddle
into the outer limits of the twilight zone
at the edge of night
courtesy magic broom.
Plenty of times,
I ate in a crowded h... |
She loves me she loves me not...
Just my luck that when juiced a lad
din grammar school, aye own every
rhyme and reason tubby mad
every friggin time boyhood fingers
plucked petals off flowered daisy...
just as well, a relief and more than glad
tomb hiss out on doing the wild thang
and be'n totally tube yule lore lee baad
yea, how boring squirreled away
voraciously reading 'bout some cad
oh my dog...I too could write story
"FAKE" steamy extramarital liaison add
chocolate flavored Glynnis (Msgeegee),
whereby celibate chap goes stir crazy - egad
yours truly drives back to her pad
within sketchy part of West Philadelphia
starring as chief protagonist
none other then... yupper this dad
until caught with pants down (figuratively)
thine missus both angry at me and sad
 |
Bully me you, I exemplified archetypal scapegoat...
who suffered cuts by a thousand knives.
Even as old (dish) married
(spooning) curmudgeon,
who receives social security disability
linkedin with social anxiety)
chose the fork less traveled
aye pucker with sunken cheeks,
(especially without dentures)
and raspily suction toothless mouth
drawing reminiscent guffaws affecting
attempt impersonating plumber
(think suctioning and unclogging toilet)
please support your local bummer
back in the day one
long haired pencil neck geeks palled
around with another
hirsute nerd - Roger Kummerer,
(who both of us graduated Methacton
High School class of 1977),
and yours truly readily
admitting, alluding, and attesting
without shadow of doubt
representing the dumber
than rocks of said beastie boys
bandits, donning partico... |
Though forever sober, nevertheless numbskull of mine throbs
I (a lapsed milquetoast) experienced
a head splitting hellacious hangover.
I tried to be part of Cool And Gang by being "bad"
to the thoroughly good bone, er...
which trend followed me till man hood,
whereby this bloke still a cad
plus the most
embarrassing older hippy dad
where a shaved pierced pate egad
seems to be the latest fad
boot this nonestablishmentarian
feels more content with himself and glad
though as a precocious
whipper snapper of young lad
did act like "Curious George",
which found me late mum
and then octogenarian
widower father quite mad,
especially when breaking
into the liquor cabinet in me homey pad
and nearly escaped by a scad
dad dull when the hide o me buttocks
whacked more'n a tad.
... |
Sophistication of sinister online skulduggery...
lurks within the outer limits of cyberspace,
where dark shadows eclipse edge of night
indistinguishable from the twilight zone.
Within the Internet binary size weavers loom
shuttle whizzes (analogous to a bad mitten)
at speed of greased lightning warp speed
weaving courtesy electronic webbed wide world
snaring and snagging
poor schlemiel or schlimazel,
videlicet snazzy convincing culprit,
who gets figuratively sucker punched
courtesy malevolent scoundrels
(devoid of moral scruples)
to mimic legitimacy
subsequently scam without misgivings
(but exude untrammeled glee)
preying upon vulnerable particular populations
such as the elderly and infirm.
Victim services of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
helped me recoup one hundred Benjamins,
whereas gofundme page
(I jimmied up for myself)
wrought nary a handy dandy blues clues |
Ice say... water we dew wing to planet Earth?
Tis appalling Homo sapiens legacy,
the future survival of species can ill afford
hence we must not dodge and dart away,
but heed urgent call to arms decree fiat,
lest vast gamut of flora and fauna
deprived their rightful respect
courtesy ewe buick wit us ram
me bipedal hominids wresting
driver's seat and steering fate
all species unfairly doomed
analogous to horse and buggy
only far worse, whereat naked ape
that nasty short tempered and brutish
beast finagled, hijacked, besotted,
usurped... sacred covenant taurus
once illustrious precious habitats
escorted to shreds
innocent plants and animals, we
signalled anonymous poetic mouthpiece,
cuz world wide webbed tapestry
irreparably tattered, thus swiftly tailored
measures beg critters to needle
arro... |
Harriet Harris née Kuritsky...
Despite being a nineteen year old bride
she wed Boyce Brandon Harris
half a decade her senior,
(where I ranked less than a twinkle in their eyes)
during the month of June 1955,
not quite half a century later ~ May 4th, 2005
death severed the pledge she did troth
linkedin wifely role,
cuz against her will she died
at most four weeks to be more exact
golden wedding anniversary never witnessed
raging against accursed grim reaper
countenance succumbed into collective sorrow
life force forever absent snatched away,
yet magically transformed
into the breathing edenic idyll
courtesy green thumb of eldest sister of mine
once livingsocial mother of ours
invoking trademark contagious l'chaim
flickering aura, charisma, instant karma
persona could not hide mommy dearest
physically eclipsed after
rigor mortis displaye...
|
Eagerly awaiting until many tomorrows...
to become affianced to the grim reaper,
who never promised me a rose garden
nor crystal clear pool of fragrant delight
to accompany last living breath
before succumbing into the Soundgarden
of a black hole sun
re: the void of nothingness
with absolute zero remembrance of things past.
Suicidal ideation in tandem
with purposelessness
(nihilistic existentialism exponentially
increasing since my halflife ago),
and most importantly
cursed with flat limp hair,
which serious crisis undermines reason
to write reasonable poetic expression
spurs the notion to traverse consciousness,
and painlessly segway
into the hereafter
(and maybe reincarnated into a heifer)
on a broken wing and a prayer.
No glorious notion of heaven
(nor belief in some omnipotent supreme creator,
who will be instrumental
uniting ... |
Suddenly frisson coldplay linkedin with fright...
I describe, suddenly feeling scared
and tried to summon sense and sensibility
after scrambling to stand upright
with all my might.
Otherwise titled
recalling taking a fall
about five years ago
ala Humpty Dumpty impersonation
(and nearly cracking me noggin),
think the character
in an English nursery rhyme
opened to countless interpretations,
even resorting to ask Reddit for
"ChatGPT, to finish
the Humpty Dumpty poem... Oh god..."
which complete computer generated
Using the same prompt, here's what I got.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men Couldn’t put Humpty together again.
In the shadows of dusk, where the darkness does creep, Lay shattered the shell, in a... |
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