Song of Myself 1.0

Song of Myself 1.0

I’ve been doing this a long time
Why is it so vexing
It should be a spontaneous flow of
Emotions recollected in tranquility
Write? It should be easy why is it not
Something is holding me back
Perhaps I am balking at allowing
Another method of science to explore
Territory deeper in psychological realms
Of the cerebellum wherever that extends
To including the far reaches of the psyche
That exist as a sphere balancing
On a unicycle with a punctured wheel
Once restored though a formidable
Configuration, sign, symbol whatnot
They have lost their heraldic power
You realize it now for what it appears:
Spiraling counterclockwise
As a mandala smashing into metal
Siding with a pinging ding
Painful revelation of past
Confrontations with the sphinx
In your grill in modern Greek drama

Our last bulkhead: the secret we have been
Dying to reveal some thirty years now
That was hollered across every
Functional culture countertop workstation
Necessary architecture in building
Philosophy in general to support the auspices
At least of civilization at its cardinal peak
Its feats embedded in concrete
A monolith that over shadows Foshay Tower
The image of Shapiro: the Dali of critics appears
‘Stranglehold’ instrumental version evolves
Howls transcending the medium of slinky
Hot rails steels: AC/DC soundtracks cackle like the
Cockerel you have accompanied to appeal
In the litigious back story decoded lugubriously
That sounds bbbetter than the Beatles

Becoming accustomed to the fact
That you are more or less
Representative of the new subjectivism

Family secrets

Falling through the crib

Ronda doesn’t move normal anymore
Did you drop her on her head
Changing her mom asked seriously
Because Sandy says you did

We’ll get to the bottom of this she thought
Is it true or is it false
There was no one there but you
And you won’t admit the truth

She just lies there in her crib
And doesn’t move an inch
Much quieter than our kids
Ronda is easy to baby sit

Your aunt accuses: she works with mom
Uncle Den is the spitting image of Mickey Rourke
In White Sands
One of the idols of my youth

With his Chuck Berry records
Collection I look forward to when I baby sit
Who has once become a drunk
Somewhat of a hunk hunting chicks

Like Mick in 9 ½ months
Informing me the nitty gritty.
Sandy said I dropped their kid
But now she’s pregnant again

We’ll see how this one turns out
Oh by the way confirmation is around
The corner you need a sponsor:
Uncle Den or Uncle Dell who do you choose?

Alright Dell prisoner of war
(Dad is captive of chthonic force)
Not the Rodeo drive movie star
From Hawaii cousin Sheri arrives

Writer of children’s stories: I imitate her
Under mom’s ironing board:__
Atrophy was hidden in the family genes.

First Class notes

Dear Tom & classmates

I was very nervous before class; but, I could really relate to the similes, and metaphors of your icebreaker, esp. the 'second novel' bit; your comments upon the creative process put me at ease among other teachers and students of writing.

I am a prodigious e-mailer among a close circle of family, friends and associates; usually composing on MS Word and using attachments; but have never blogged before.
So this is another hi-tech venture for me.

It was fun in your class.

Michael T