Taking what life throws at me one pitch at a time
plays it for swagger
not an obvious stagger
from the fright of blight
as the rainbow clock runs down
on his short timed existence
need to stagger the
fleeting peaks of joy to squelch
bombastic waveform
connection timed out
waiting for a single truth
to be forthcoming
Rainbow pot-o-gold
Home Depot home deplore decor
Painted plastic junk
Tasteless tacky faux pas fright
Gauche slapped over ketchup stains
Face masked tricksters stomp
Halloween and every day
Up and down the block
Treats us to brutality
Play violent peek-a-boo
Enjoy special cosplay writhe served up on Halloween night.
We wriggle and writhe
Out of our trick or treat duds
Birthday suit playtime
Foggy night football
Nobody could see a thing
SOP for refs
Halloween night flight
Razor wire kite tail gleams
Watch bloody crowds writhe
Calm before the storm
Enjoying the soft coolness
Of a caressing breeze
Hanging over all
The money shroud smothers truth
Gold calves aplenty
Abuse taught me to shroud intentions with indifference.
Caught the creep again
Court of paid for sycophants
Turn the other way
The shroud has been laid
Like a soft breeze corpse cover
Coolness and the Creep
Willow in the wind
Flowing dance to nature's call
Shameless shimmy shake
Horrid little thing
Squeezed out of its hardened shell
I know how to fix
Butter garlic and some bread
Special plate with little pits
Only time will tell
If only I could tell time
Mind your own business
when selling power
meets stern buying resistance
art of the squeal
Some very smart people
Believe some very dumb things
So I wrote a haiku this morning to a Bluesky #vss365 prompt of #yearn as I am wont to do daily.
It went like this:
It always seems that
No matter how hard I #yearn
Affection is spurned
A comment made on that post brought to mind this song by Loudon Wainwright, III
“Unrequited To The Nth Degree”
Oh, when I die and it won’t be long
Hey, you’re gonna be sorry that you treated me wrong
Yeah, you’re gonna be sorry that you treated me bad
Hey, and if there’s an after life I’ll gloat and I’ll be glad
Might be a plane crash, or some sort of OD
Hey, there’s going to be a photograph with my obituary
You’re gonna see it and you’ll cry
You’re gonna wanna wear black
Hey, I’ll be dead but you can bet your life, I’m gonna get you back
I’m tired of being left up on your shelf
I might not wait around, might kill myself
Not only would you miss me, but you’d feel guilty to
Oh, I’d be dead but it’d be too late the joke would be on you
Ha ha ha ha, ho ho ho ho
Chuckle chuckle chuckle chuckle
Snigger snigger snigger snigger
Guffaw guffaw guffaw
Yuk yuk yuk yuk
Ha ha ha ha…
So you better take warning, start treating me good
Start doing the things that I think you should
And you better not pout and no you better not cry
The grim reaper is a-comin’ to town and I just might die
This song reinforces many things for me.
From irrational exuberance to unreasonable expectations.
From pining for personages out of my league, while not noticing those that would have been a better fit.
Personal life
Professional life
Business life
Financial life
Spiritual life
This song also affirms my observations on codependency:
When I die your life will pass before my eyes.
🛩Meanwhile, Keep Em Flying 🛩
grinning ear to ear
signalling another night
of special mischief
takes reflected light
on my retina to draw you
in my memory
yet my most cherished
recollections of you were
played out in the dark
media cover
of louts constant twittering
has zero value
A distant memory
When I was very young
At bedtime my mother and I
Would kneel at my bedside
We would say a nightly prayer
It went like this:
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
Should I die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
Nice little sediment.
Face to face with my mortality
On a nightly basis before dreamland.
From two to maybe seven
Don't recall when it began
Don't recall when it ended
Wonder why I was a shy kid
With the Grim Reaper
Always hovering near
Sweet dreams Petey.
Tesla's little deviant
Syncopation psychopath
Wishing to be relevant
Gains wannabe sovereign's wrath
Sycophants all in a row
Play red rover red rover
Send those that wish to not know
On their bellies on over
Two reptilian factions
Plotting their next reactions
Spend time to arrange
Things I want to be just so
Stay flexible though
when the day is done
alone in our own abode
languid uncover
Phrazez that Payzez
Build the enemy you want
Where has all the karma gone
a sentient bean
am I and will keep being
one until I'm not
I spent a decade
As a deviant savant
May not be pretty
But it was consensual
Plus a whole lotta love fun
to avoid dreaded
run-on sentences I use
haiku form instead
Nostalgia nonsense:
"Things were much better back then."
Nope. But lies stayed close
Oh this ain't balmy
It's a blast furnace out there
Believe me, I know
Nostalgic brothers
Balmy and Bomby Weasel
Plan chicken coop run
I watch and wonder at the amount of effort people waste
stacking the irrelevant on the inconsistent
next to the problematic hypothetical outcome
without knowing how much the
newborn irrelevant in the room weighs.
Just trying to chill
Up in the Empyrean
While y'all crying down there
when the liminal
becomes the subcarrier
signal waves bye-bye
as the earth leans in
cry not for shrinking daylight
embrace the darkness
Tipped on its axis
The drunk world slurs it's solstice
Planetary binge
Celestial power drinking
Earth wobbles out of control
When focus is lost the whole world blurs into chaos
orientation
of the road means full blast force
when the north wind blow
profitable for
some to create problems that
you need defense from
there's a time to fight
then there's a time to take flight
timing must be right
The outside of a silhouette 🗣️ is where the real action happens
Toss a silhouette
On the cave wall. What's outside?
Track and hunt those beasts.
Seems like yesterday
We observed an equinox
Now a solstice comes
Juncos smack in the crisp cold
Dark eyes glitter in the snow
going from drastic
plastic to tragic tantric
tantrum terror plots
by bilious faux billionaires
serving sorrow by the sack
A Scroll Threw Life 