The Joy Of Bing Skits Zoid Poem by matthew harris

Normality:
What is normal? Ah, that ever so difficult to answer question! Yes, the ethos of society communicates (thru various media) the gamut of tolerance. Nonetheless, a vague boundary circumscribes the parameters. Though this alert, civil, genteel individual pays obeisance (grudgingly) to the coda of this society, he does attest to follow the beat of his drummer ever since being a wee little sprout!
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Herewith follows an additional introduction (albeit in poetic format) to one Homo sapiens amidst the children, men and women within the human sea.
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When just a whippersnapper of a little boy
Me late mum and octogenarian pop agreed
For doctor removal of my adenoid
Less to prevent their only son from being coy
Than fear of said male heir to the Harris throne
Becoming an android
A less than agreeable likelihood, especially
In tandem with predilection of goy
This fateful outcome unfazed this now green giant,
Not the least bit annoyed
As captain crunch (before childhood end)
Beckoned yours truly with "A HOY"
Horrified that my parents would be so blithe
To steer their son clear to avoid
Psychotic outcome to deliver obliviousness
And thus bring inner joy
So, they sent their peculiar male progeny
Believing he to be Pink Floyd
Who found himself evicted desperately
And in sore need of gainful m ploy
So he began his therapy
In the orifice er office of Sigmund Freud
Who bore a striking resemblance
To a wooden pecked prickly shaped toy
This mental analysis delved into past - outcome
I felt less than overjoyed
Despite boss be addressed
As Oedipus wrecks and pay verbal homage that did cloy
Dredging layered past devoid
Of love, yet
Flush with fallacious prevaricated abuse
From mister Lloyd Lavinsky,
A male lore demon of a grade school bully
Forsooth sanity he destroyed!
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Neither unusually severe actual event nor series of unfortunate circumstances punctuated my birth, yet emotional travails seemed to beset this ordinary mortal male. He came into this world the usual ordinary way, and can attest a mostly womb door full early childhood. The forces at large that seemed to conspire against healthy emotional, physical and spiritual maturation arose from an inherent virulent strain of panic and anxiety. Only until the recent past did a dawning realization occur (most likely during dusk) that congenital neurological weaknesses played a major role in the majority of these fifty plus years of longevity!
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Bullied by Lloyd Levinsky circa mid-1960's ™

Among the countless thugs that teased and taunted myself as a boy
Who exhibited blatant characteristics of being painfully shy and coy

Regularly beckoned like some tasty morsel chronic unpleasant bait
To be pitted with words an always feeling like an outcast without a date
Populating school day memories of loathsomeness and hate.

Serving as the token punching bag nearly the duration every year
Of public school, which vicious name calling assaults upon me psyche did wear
away and negligible self confidence or internal rage that found instinct to veer
Away from approaching fist, which knuckle sandwich from tier
Of hooligans gave no surcease
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To knock this introvert on his head or scrawny rear
A lonely lad bereft of buddy to stand close as any bona a fide genuine peer
Nothing but dark shadow casting silhouette per edge of night always near
One brazen dude named Lloyd Levinsky hovered ever near
Especially during recess at Aububon Elementary School
He did chase and lear
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Encouraging mob fiends to join in an additionally mock and jeer
Which unprintable epithets, I can still faintly hear
As the thuggish, nasty, brutish enemy sited me in his/her crosshair
In tandem with that native animal fear
That found this then socially withdrawn second grader
Like a targeted deer
Caught in cross hairs of boys who seemed
Like giants and fierce some as a bear.
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Cruel barbs hurled lent convenience to me
Who stood stock still or crouched down
On ground intimating passivity and inferiority
That brought grimace and frown
To those who mimicked flaws,
Which aside from being shriveled flower on lawn
Included nasal twang from submucous cleft palate
Congenital defect that did spawn
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Speech impediment caused strong nasality when talking
(Diagnosed as a sub-mucous cleft palate i.e. a split uvula)
and obvious magnet for brutal beast
To relish, savor and feast
Hoping to bring me to tears at the least
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Knowing this human docile scared dog would not fight back
Fearing he might get beat to a bloody pulp for justifiably flack
Even my late mother also told me
To give brats a "what for" with two-fisted pack
So as to stun that nasty gang who to this very day I bristle to smack
With an ole mighty whack
As if strength within transferred from a mastodon or wooly mammoth yak!