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Editing - polished draft

As a hypothetical argument
yours truly doth not aim
to be unfortunate recipient
of misguided, misjudged, and mislaid blame,
nevertheless I make dubious claim
and baldly recede (ha – hair ye, here ye)
from heady assertion
to make bold statement
such that literacy supersedes numeracy,
between said measurable

The fall off ( part 1)

As the leaves turn to gold
And the summer warmth fades away
The world begins to unfold
In a stunning display
The air becomes crisp
And the sky starts to change
As the fall takes its grip
Everything feels rearranged
The trees once so green
Now wear coats of red and orange
A sight to be seen
A transformation so strange
The sun sets earlier
And rises later each day
The nights grow colder
But somehow it's okay
For with the fall comes a beauty
A magical kind of grace

Detailing delicate defecation debacle

Otherwise wordily titled: pooped out
after pouring bucketfuls of water into
place of ablutions
all the while skipping to my loo
umpteen times courtesy bathtub faucet
turned toward hot temperature
so toilet would finally,
magnificently, and royally flush.

Best Seller

"Are you reading a book?", asked Piglet.

"In a way.", said Pooh. "It's my diary. I fill it with poetry."

"Am I in it?", asked Piglet.

"Yes you are.", said Pooh with a smile.
"My friends and family are my favorite chapters."

Still wrestling with impasse to contentment

Dispense sing with fidelity blithely agog
just me and mine dark shadow
slinking along outer limits of
the edge of night doth blog
passivity, the path
of least resistance ohm my dog,
shocking voltage amply
surges an emphatic YES,
verboten fruit adrip
with succulent juices as eggnog,

The following words crafted soon after the soul of me daddy set adrift into the empyrean realm joining the rank and file of entities constituting spiritus mundi.

Borne aloft into the netherland
the body bearing thee soul
of Boyce Brandon Harris
birth name given to my late father
buoyed into the great beyond
united with spirit
of mine late mother Harriet,
whose passing well nigh nineteen
orbitz of the earth around the sun.


We don't say it
but our bones melt into one
and become the shape of it


Talking with the Dead

I mistakenly thought the departed
could have nothing more to say, but I was wrong.
For me, the dead do make a commotion.

I hear them all the time in discussions
I have with them about things left unsaid
when they were here, with you and I.

Do you talk with them too? I wonder
if you’ll share what they say to you.
We’ve no reason to keep this to ourselves now.
I just want to listen to all they were.

Invisibly tortured courtesy existential nihilism

Psyche wracked with agony
impossible mission to extricate lovely bones
they wanna remain permanently abed.

I chiefly function to amass knowledge
courtesy assiduously, habitually,
and judiciously reading
an eclectic assortment of written material.

Yours truly woke
with ambition, disposition,
inclination, and predilection
to glean from an assortment
of books esoteric learning
since... birth, but particularly
when experiencing emerging adulthood
about two score years ago.


Welcome to my suicide

To the place where I died

Put a hole through my head

A bullet is not why I am dead

Life was a nightmare in a dream

Nothing was what it seemed

Pressure falling on me like a ton

Took all of it until I was done

I tried to find myself a cure

There was only one way I was sure

Now I lay in this grave, dead

Thoughts of me in no one's head


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