Aye Go Gaga over the Lady Play boy bunny

poem by: Matthew Harris
Written on Nov 19, 2016

Hey ,

(▒)(♥)(▒)

Are you tired looking for real partner like me
whelp...probably nada worth while spending precious
   time frittering away re:
ding tha following mish mash literary mush - we
ving, and bobbing, which iz meaningless mum bo pap agree?

(▒)(♥)(▒)

This poker face mwm 4 bad romance ace
   tosses dice in virtual gamboling hall 
   ideally suitable for fun virtual cat and mouse chase
mine myopic eyes stare intently in2 cyberspace
folk kiss - sing song snap chatting
   eyes fixated b4 ur image seconds erase
with an exclamation of eureka a ha -
   u look familiar at least yar face
mebbe we both lived during the same time 
   centuries ago, eh
   perhaps in adjoining caves some place
and/or dashed off the starting line of human race.
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    
this yodeling joshing a guy doth adduce
tooting ring ding oof a max i mus drake
   haint named Bruce
boot ah do like the taste of cous cous
what the deuce
as i goose 
step wit a screw r 2 loose
whereby bull winkle the moose
n Natasha the squirrel plus otter creatures
   tink i lack mental juice 
er purr haps goot a screw el loose
i.e. ja dat - right duh gray matter
   of dis knit wit, the "infamous" they noose
sum hmm iz amiss 
   from dis indigent chap
   once lugged in a papoose
   hob bulled across whirled wide web 
   peppered with rotten green tomatoes -
   prompting n immediate VAMOOSE
   finding ma rhyming absolute zero 
   in chime with zee cuckoo
   ready 2 call doktor demento ore doctor Zeus.
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    
this friendship introduction 
   will mutual ideally nada blow
based on unseen essence of body, mind
   & soul moreso than dough 
i.e. money, which tends
   2 be a superficial criteria
   viz assess worthiness to flow 
   toward greater comprehension
   akin 2 a garden
  that requires one 2 weed n hoe
thus, this common non sloppy joe 
maw owl ease keeps 2 himself i.e. ya know
a contemplative sort & writes ha low
   2 you crossing fingers 
   no immediate aversion arises,
   yet an emphatic "no"
toward me would be taken
   in stride per this poe 
   it, whose ability finds comfort
   within the simple pleasures
   of life while invisible on skid row 
   this creaky human vessel,
   yes on occasion calls out 4 a big tow.
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    
mebbe as delivery purse son 
2 supplement social security income
(this disability 4 generalized anxiety)
within me gray matter doth lay.
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    
although (mentioned for noah particular 
rhyme nor reason) of heterosexual tendencies, 
my inner sanctum affected by unkind actions 
towards those who (by choice, genetics, fondness,
or environment) steer clear of the madding crowd
source, who (as a skinny diminutive boy - 
and average emasculating wordsmith) experienced 
constant taunts. no matter me late mother 
(who passed away from ovarian cancer eleven + 
years ago) encouraged me to give the bullies 
a WHAT FOR (in that era kids could pummel 
without reprisal), but fear kept me back, viz 
the brutish nasty monsters zeroed on countless 
vulnerabilities such as being affected with 
blatant nasal tone when talking, extremely shy, 
and undersized physique. these traits sensitivity 
to others differently abled or others, who ranked 
as fair game sans being gay or lesbian for instance. 
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    
as can be accurately ascertained, 
this archetypal nonestablishmentarian
introspective individual attempts
to affect an exultant image
with words my (ahem) pen ultimate aim.
   yet all the while trying 
   2 steer clear enduring ye wagging
   virtual finger in blame
neither at this fellow via x 'cept able dame
   chance circumstances of existence 
   akin to being froze n space/time paradigms frame
   attempting 2 extricate ourselves
a lifelong game
   which message offered in this poem
rather lame.
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    
email moi, which means 
applying cerebral muscles 2 flex
fire off a brief bull a tin
or mebbe u wanna drop me a lion by zoo 
per doo purr postal service, si from you.

Okay.

(▒)(♥)(▒) - pose casket crypt:

death tomb me iz a permanent good bye
though, when me mum passed i only did cry
for about one week - cuz resentment did not die
within me, yet toward octogenarian widower papa
   who during mine tumultuous prepubescence a fierce
   cold war raged, which deprived "dad" to know this guy
now grown (with two near adult daughters) says "hi"
allows emotional connection, cuz - lesson learned late - i
need to communicate sentiments today, lest they lie
festering, and return with a vengeance after 
   grim reaper exuberantly and well nigh
whisks family member, friend, neighbor...
   away on the sly
thus - even if the wording nada so perfect, 
   the effort to express
   heartfelt feelings well worth a try, 
   every mortal shares this bitter irony of life
   forever asking why be born only to pass away
   (vis a vis via whatever faith) why...?

 

Tags: humor, rhyme, beat, encouraging, imagery,

 

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