I ably, easily and readily admit
to self plagiarization
about half of the following words that did flit
to and fro, hither and yon
(about three hundred
and sixty five days ago)
saving me the trouble to knit
brows together, and hopefully
readers don't needle me,
but unconditionally accept and permit
one protoplasmic corporeal essence
housing a future ectoplasmic unit
awaiting a small medium at large
to summon forth one generic guy
who still exudes esprit de corps
after his body electric
given carte blanche leeway
to stride rite upon the welcome mat
prior to entering Elysium fields.
Though a witness to seven and sixty
(threescore and seven) winters
traveling astride the World,
Globe, Sphere, Orb, Terra,
Gaia, Cosmos, Creation,
and the Blue Planet
along magical mystery tour de force
hashtagged as other names for Gaia,
the Greek primordial goddess
of the Earth, include
in Greek, with her Roman equivalent
being Terra or Tellus (Mother Earth);
She also has many epithets
like Anesidora (gift-giving)
and is associated with concepts
like Mother Earth, Earth Mother,
and various other
global earth goddesses like Pachamama,
the last eight and a half years mein kampf lived
within Perkiomen Valley Pennsylvania,
which pure as the driven snow
blanketed a wide swath
covering north eastern United States
aw-shucks disappointingly
tapering off this January 17th
while the bell in the belfry
muffled clangor struck high noon.
Virgin whiteness blanketed terrestrial realm
bajillion snowflakes tumbled
out of the sheltering sky
atavistic fascination awakened
agog at ice crystals stinging each eye
while I struck open mouthed stance
relishing tasting frozen water molecules.
No matter yours truly witnessed
countless winter wonderlands
since completing lxvii orbitz
seemingly whiplashed faster
as this mortal
doth get older
as he journeys around the sun,
the first major
seasonal substantial accumulation
excites the little boy inside me,
momentarily oblivious
to the cares and concerns
of an uncertain webbed wide world
Additionally, I feel truly
humbled and enamored
when Mother Nature
singly and/or nsync
with old man winter,
whether she (former)
looses propensity to wreak havoc
(think climatological, geological,
meteorological, et cetera phenomena)
or latter trumpets weather,
whereby landscape magically transformed
into blinding brilliance,
I tip hat to personification of winter
and fondly think back
remembering '96 storm of the century.
At that time January 1996
me and the missus timesharing
seven nights and six days holed up
along Shawnee on the Delaware,
(a honeymoon gift courtesy my parents)
spending disproportionate amount of time
frolicking under warm blankets
while watching starry eyed galaxy
of frozen water which appeared white
because said precipitation
made of countless clear ice crystals
that scattered all colors
of sunlight in every direction,
and when all colors combined,
our eyes perceived white,
similar to how clouds
or foam looks white
due to light scattering off tiny water droplets,
and while individual snowflakes translucent,
the complex surfaces and air pockets
cause light to reflect
and refract (bounce) off them repeatedly
until the full spectrum of light
returns to dazzle the eye
ardently, fervently, naturally...
both of us experiencing
devilish, feverish, impish,
loutish (more so me)... concupiscence
striving to beget offspring, yet unsuccessful
conceiving Blizzard Baby,
who subsequently got conceived
with seminal determination a few months later.
Now far beyond prime procreative age,
(though I wistfully envisage
begetting another progeny -
simultaneously stretching credulity
to breaking point)
all things considered
while breathing in the fresh air
exhaustion would peter out
after capitulation of divining rod
necessitating lifetime to recoup energy.
Bound (by choice,
linkedin to the lack
of a four wheel drive vehicle),
hence choose to remain
safe as a soundcloud
within figurative four walls
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania domicile,
formerly an elementary school
in a previous incarnation
(since repurposed into
Highland Manor Apartments)
courtesy appreciable snowfall,
which yours truly hopes endures
I direct energy crafting poem.
Yours truly will actually
refrained comestibles despite feeling hungry -
lest metabolism to digest food
decreased potential alertness,
and full belly found me
ready, able and willing
to doze immediately into deep slumber.
Hungry stomach in tandem
with eventful weather
sends surge of giddiness
coursing thru body electric
crackling, popping, and snapping
(while O Captain My Captain)
came to whit man (me) suddenly
enervating with poignant pregnant expectancy
papa pondering his empty nest syndrome
(deux super tramping progeny flew the coop,
a dirty dozen deeds done dirt cheap
tricked themselves with pluck)
analogously attempting to offset void
coaxing reasonable rhyme into existence
unsure how literary endeavor
(mine) will thrive
amidst well suited
panoply of prolific writers,
whose unseen fingers
hop lightly and gracefully
across qwerty computer keyboard
akin to heavy armed soldiers
with fearlessness and deliberation
heading off to war
to acquire poetic license.
Meanwhile chafed knuckles
of one garden variety primate
previously scraping along avast tundra,
(where methinks I espied frozen Mastodon
frozen during a previous ice age),
a bajillion generations before
said twenty first century caveman
learned to stand erect
earlier this dawn of civilization
countless millenniums ago,
now endeavored to strike letter combinations
eliciting, facilitating, and generating
enticing curb appeal
where snow angels fear to tread.
-
Author:
poet2rhyme4tommorrow (
Offline) - Published: January 17th, 2026 14:27
- Category: Nature
- Views: 2

Offline)
Comments1
A free flow of ideas in this poem. Well written
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