poetry the medium i feel most adept to try my hand
and offer a couple of enclosed samples
that epitomizes my atypical eclectic trademark trader joe's wholefoods brand:
the following written by:
matthew harris
Barack obama
this epistle per mine choice of heir apparent presidential throne
composed from one liberal minded non-conformist rolling stone
prompted awareness that one voice can affect which contestant will win
and occupy the white house after the votes get tallied from political spin
aware thy missive from an anonymous fellow and a self anointed scribe
will be carefully screened no matter opinion already cast with nada bribe
personal opinion of this sole american male of two score and nine years
that barack obama possesses that je ne sais quois diplomatic state craft
despite disparaging broadside starring paris hilton plus britney spears
the land of lincoln candidate exemplifies (to myself) a charismatic charm
in tandem with a relaxed persona and gait akin per a commoner on a farm
that nonchalant easy going affinity speaks nonverbal volumes to this chap
cringes when espying or hearing from opposing challenger whose lips flap
meaning john mccain whose hidden motives and agenda include his trap
to plant seeds of doubt per un-decided electorate causing lead to get a zap
unknown how trials and tribulations rival democratic senator from Illinois
will weather local nor global challenges and said solution he might employ
i opt for said captain to steer ship of state and exclaim to drop anchor ahoy
if via cosmic divine intercession the galloping newcomer in this horse race
ushering biracial as nominal winner televisions would show a beaming face
the political ramifications analogous to betting square outcome on this ace
i gently beg, decry, fulminate counter attack advertisements fast and quick
against those subliminal sly messages that at first blush appear airily slick
and please reach deep in that magic bag resorting to retaliatory artful trick
lest burning from the maddening crowd extinguished like jack’s candle wick!
Al Gore
an inconvenient truth confronts humanity at this critical juncture of civilization, and pits homo sapiens on the brink of near disaster with mother earth in the balance!
she (gaia) figuratively wheezes, teeters (as if on a cosmic seesaw) and gasps for air, whereby the irreparable tipping point for survival of mankind and other multitudinous life forms at the merci of global catastrophe!
restoration of planet earth to that original former condition of pristine and unfettered virginity (with the mythical noble savage popularized by jean jacques rousseau roaming the edenic and verdant landscape) impossible, no matter that you possess that je nais sais quoi magic touch!
if (for some inexplicable reason), a sudden passion to preside over this country arose (as commander in chief), an immediate rallying cry of excitement would find thee at the front of the pack faster than michael phelps!
now, i boldly venture to broach a bald personal opinion predicated on the woebegotten state of general affairs of state!
national sentiment per the majority of voters bristles with white hot rage for feeling economically bushed and chained under the guise of a near dictator who seems totally oblivious that a common joe (like me for instance) bide their time enduring unasked for travails!
this union now seems jacked asunder by an administration that the present occupant of the oval office on a par which havoc king george wrought!
the deux (ex machina) limited choices for president seem like a bare rack, lame duck and pale in comparison to yourself, who without a shadow of a doubt would spur record-breaking legions of legal eligible citizens to pull the lever (proudly raising cane) to cast their choice for the man who lost by a chad’s breath!
faithfulness limned with a sanguine penchant per that environmental paradigm offers an aegis this veritable stranger (to thee) felt awash with (albeit whence said thought got gored) at the ephemeral, fantastical and whimsical far fetched hologram with an environmental occupant in the white house!
although just a pipe dream, this completely anonymous generic guy acted on impulse to communicate his spurious appreciation and approbation for such commensurate trade mark ecological paradigm!
Oy Gevalt - Moi Ongepatchket Married Life!
Once thy future spouse (Abby Zison) found herself in the family way
(with what would turn out to be the first of our two daughters – i do say
determined and sealed the decision per our rolling in the figurative hay
to wed said mother of thine deux female progeny on an agreed upon day!
Both of us happened to be older grown offspring at ten times thrice
Or three plus decades to be generally precise our fate sealed no dice!
Said age difference approximately a year and a half between us two,
and miserably living with parents, which o’er the years rancor grew!
I agreed to pledge my troth on the premise this writer
(christened Matthew Harris) aka king o one scott the lighter
found himself in the throes of becoming a potential mister mom
per one dominant seminal striver a darwinian fighter!
Since neither of us took any precautions and thru caution to the wind
the inevitable (i.e. a so called bun in the oven) nonetheless
tasting supposed verboten fruits branded us as having sinned
took us by surprise and got us necessarily biologically pinned!
Even though a decision to tie the gordian knot (more like a noose)
per donning the role of future father tightened and n’er got loose
an inner conflict jostled thine inner being
against forming a legal wedded union – the deus!
Prior to taking that legal vow to be husband and wife
until death doth us part before the justice of the peace
(which building matter of fact, happens to be
a hopper, skipper and jumper
from where this seat experiences posterior strife
because this gluteus maximus constitutes on bony arse
as if being cut by a knife
matrimonial bliss seemed like a pipe dream
in subsequent years only to spiral into a maelstrom of some chaotic life!
In truth, the prospect to marry
in general and aforementioned gal in particular
hardly filled yours truly with giddy excitement
but a decision this troubadour wished to defer and tarry!
Passive agreement to acquiesce by saying that necessary “I do”
per impregnating the woman named above transpired until her belly grew
swollen with eden liat thy current star student
now sound asleep – counting sheep lined up in a queue
yet lately this personal state of affairs I chronically rue
and immerse myself in reminiscing about yesteryear
and wonder why passivity elected as a way to escape
utter aversion living with dad and (thy late) mom both in a boiling stew!
Predilection to play Russian roulette by avoiding any safe sexual mode
i.e. contraceptives to avoid unplanned pregnancy
shrugged off while spermatozoa adhered to reproductive code
which absence to use birth control also arose
as a natural propensity to procreate from natural urges that did goad!
Now, less joy de vivre doth prevail
to remain monogamous and uphold strictures from this male
fidelity, integrity morality, et cetera buts ahead without fail
from rampant testosterone urge to become appeased, fulfilled, satiated
no matter this dozen plus year bride and groom blindly entered
the unalterable sacred covenant whence sexual need now does ail!
After the birth of daughter numero dos did arrive
the preponderance of physical gratification
took a kamikaze dose dive!
