I woke up sleepy one dusky morning to the quiet alarm ringing tonelessly.
Fumbling steadily for the blasted quietude that yet remained evaporated,
I discovered the obvious existence of the typical irregularity that is my blessed curse.
I wondered knowingly whether my slow haste would work ineffectively once again.
With desolate hope I uncertainly reassured myself that the pleasurable pain of my
least great sedentary activity, that of full evacuation, would possibly be over soon.
I made my way with hesitant decisiveness to the cramped room where, pausing continually,
I took loose hold of the slippery grab bar, extending my withdrawal into the bathroom.
Following my irregular pattern, I sat upon the simple throne and began the ending
of the attenuated fullness of my extroverted bowels (which I always find gently alarming).
After a timeless interval of melodic grunting and relaxed squeezing, I used the
sandpapery facial-quality toilet tissue to sturdily scrape the substantial residue away.
Attempting successfully to negotiate my set way to the large breakfast nook, I found
my trackless wake marked at a close distance with silent shouts leaving unrepeated echoes.
I grimaced happily upon seeing the lack of a blood trail. As my lively late friends had
only heard me deafly in recent history, I was relatively certain none of them would help.
Finding them reliably unpredictable, I euphorically mourned the empty contents
of my non-existent life. When absently present, such fickle companions as they
only brightened my days with gloom and disarrayed the chaotic order I had established.
With unfinalized plans I reached with eager reluctance for the bread and the toaster.
Toasting moistly, the aromatic stench reminded me it was laundry day tonight.
I decided a disrespectful toast to all was in improper order, so reached for the rum.
Proceeding straight forward in my roundabout way, I carefully dumped some in my tea.
Today would be fulfillingly incomplete, a harmonic dissonance of unmatched commonality.
I found my loses reassuring and spitefully nurtured my healed wounds. With opaque clarity
and tortuous directness, I unquestioningly examined the meaningless purpose of my life.
I once again newly discovered the throbbing calm in vacant residence in my outer core,
the hollow substance a freshly timeworn reprise of my hidden display of resentment.
I will enjoy the bleak high depths of this hopeful despair in my atypical way.
Of least importance is conveying my ungraspable findings to the next generation.
They can find their own lost way. One day now this living death of numb feelings
will ease me sharply over the continuous threshold, and my lax grip will steadily falter.
The last compliant hold-outs will lounge upright around my grave, casting clean dirt upon it.
Voices murmuring clearly, their monotonic melodies will flow haltingly across my corpse.
Always once someone will leave early, turning away toward uneasy relief. The small crowd,
apart among the gathering dispersal, may make certain wishes when about me they mutely state:
To all unconventional rules, he was the proverbial exception.
Author notes
This one came out as prose poetry (or poetic prose?). This is what my muse provided me with. I certainly hope it will suffice, having chosen to be led by the searing numbness of my pallid lust for another of those dull shiny things. 
115 oxymorons, shown in order (by Line number):
Title: Living Death (repeated in Line 31)
L1: woke up sleepy, dusky morning, quiet alarm, ringing tonelessly
L2: Fumbling steadily, blasted quietude, remained evaporated
L3: discovered the obvious, typical irregularity, blessed curse
L4: wondered knowingly, slow haste, work ineffectively
L5: desolate hope, uncertainly reassured, pleasurable pain
L6: least great, sedentary activity, full evacuation, would possibly
L7: hesitant decisiveness, cramped room, pausing continually
L8: loose hold, slippery grab bar, extending my withdrawal
L9: irregular pattern, simple throne, began the ending
L10: attenuated fullness, extroverted bowels, gently alarming
L11: timeless interval, melodic grunting, relaxed squeezing
L12: sandpapery facial-quality, tissue to sturdily, substantial residue
L13: Attempting successfully, negotiate my set way, large breakfast nook
L14: trackless wake, close distance, silent shouts, unrepeated echoes
L15: grimaced happily, seeing the lack, lively late
L16: heard me deafly, recent history, relatively certain
L17: reliably unpredictable, euphorically mourned, empty contents
L18: non-existent life, absently present, fickle companions
L19: brightened … with gloom, chaotic order
L20: unfinalized plans, eager reluctance
L21: Toasting moistly, aromatic stench, laundry day tonight.
L22: disrespectful toast, improper order
L23: straight forward in my roundabout way, carefully dumped
L24: fulfillingly incomplete, harmonic dissonance, unmatched commonality
L25: found my loses, spitefully nurtured, healed wounds, opaque clarity
L26: tortuous directness, unquestioningly examined, meaningless purpose
L27: once again newly discovered, throbbing calm, vacant residence, outer core
L28: hollow substance, freshly timeworn, hidden display
L29: enjoy … bleak, high depths, hopeful despair, atypical way
L30: least importance, ungraspable findings
L31: find their own lost way, One day now, living death, numb feelings
L32: ease me sharply, continuous threshold, lax grip, steadily falter
L33: compliant hold-outs, lounge upright, clean dirt
L34: murmuring clearly, monotonic melodies, flow haltingly
L35: Always once, turning away toward, uneasy relief, small crowd
L36: apart among, gathering dispersal, certain wishes, mutely state
L37: unconventional rules, proverbial exception
5/2/2009
In a list
A contest entry
- Avoid cliches like the plague by Amera.
5000 points, ended May 4, 17 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Is it humorous? After writing it I can't tell.
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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The systematic chaos of everday life is nothing shy of being awfully well penned.
The amount of oxymorons is just incredible; it's no wonder that you have won gold.
Great job!
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Lol!
Thanks.
I was certainly hoping to bludgeon the judge senseless 
so that I'd have to win. Thanks for coming by to read and comment.
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I thought it read well as a poem though a little confusing ‘til I read the notes. Extremely great use of oxymorons, I just thought they were those idiots that live down the street.
I wrote a poem for a cliché contest once. http://allpoetry.com/poem/4465331 It was great fun.
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>> I just thought they were those idiots that live down the street.
Lol! Thanks.
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Yep, there are a whole lot in there! Nicely done. Good to read. I did notice, though, that this is about sixty lines, technically, and the contest said fifty or less, but no one cares about that =] Well done.
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Well, it seems almost all of the lines wrapped around. This write was formed in all quatrains except for the final stand-alone line. I had considered editing it to fit the way AP displays it, but found I could not do that without having to do a substantial rewrite because of the resultant impact on the flow. After having exhausted myself coming up with all those oxymorons in a story form, I simply wasn't up to a rewrite a the time.
Thanks for the read, comments, and applause.
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Congrats, BearWoman...
for the well deserved Gold. Amazing oxymora you used here.
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Thank you!
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Oh my! This poem is amazing. Those who know me know that I don't care for prose and rarely comment on it. However you followed the contest rules to the letter and blew the competition away with the most oxymorons. Amazing!
Love,
Amera♥
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Thanks! And thanks for the Gold! *hugs*
I am very complimented that you called my poem "amazing," given your general not caring for prose. Yes, I was very careful to follow the rules. Fortunately (as far as the number of oxymorons goes), I had a lot of previous entries upon which to base my efforts. Even if my piece had been disqualified because of its form, I enjoyed writing it anyway.
Thanks for the unusual contest, and the BEAUTIFUL shiny thing!
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