007 Challenge

[greenmountaineer]

#2

Tabula Rasa

I put my wallet in my empty drawer,
then my cars keys easy to retrieve
at 6 a.m., a pack of Dentyne,

wrappers strewn, pocket change
at day’s end, and lozenges
to soothe my throat from all those cold calls.

I sit down to watch TV
commercials whose jingles I repeat.
Why is the yellow that didn’t went-
I-wonder-where still on my teeth?

I’ll wait another week to see,
putting away the pocket mirror
next to my pocket comb

and whatever else is in my pockets
I plop by my electric razor
among the mail I’ll open later.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

Percey Sutton 5k
Start ahead of traffic,
shadows long
lunges into a common
cool street peppered
by NYPD blue.

My neighbor sells tshirts
from his stoop. Rush
red blood into all
our human hollows.

 

[greenmountaineer]

#3

One Thousand Eyes

My compound eyes help me to fly
through bazaars of Jerusalem
in which courtyard I saw some beasts
with another bound among them.

I’ve eaten burnt offerings before.
Perhaps this is its altar,
but scabs of its bloody flesh
taste like pomace in scarlet water.

And look, the beasts of fists and jeers
swarm up the hill to see more blood
and tears.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

Alleys in the city are rare
functions of clearing debris.
By foot or mule,
traffic passes uncostumed.
Unnamed, unpapered, off grid
travellers are safe
because all hours an outdoor
lounge, two floors above,
smokes sweet beat
samples on the alley
as practice for the street.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

"I always wanted to sing like my mother." "Did she sing?" "No. She wanted to." -- Mom

The piquarist proves
mosquitos are dangerous, too.
Petulant toothpick, mean
syringe. The piquarist would
pay American dollars
for a really big shadow
or a white van ducktape dream
house for pricks to accumulate
verifiable injury
Into tabloid fame.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

Spoof of Love

All the serial killers' wives
kept the necklaces
as proof of love.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

The Wichita I knew
was curfew due to BTK--
because he let children decide between
standing on toetip or
strangling to death
for hours. Therefore
children couldn't be out
doors to see stars.

For 10 years or so, this scrubby
little sadist, Dennis Rader?
He went underground. Unheard of!
A serial killer sublimated
his thrill in pest removal.
Killed a skunk at my aunt Kathy's bank.
She was glad that he removed
the whole family before they could spray.
He could have stayed low but finally
dumb pride leaned his swollen head
and open mouth to drink the lure:
you were so feared ten years ago. I dare

you. Are you dust? You.

That is how a nightmare ends.
he was never tall, just needy.
Pathetic. Greedy.

Finally only flying paper airplanes
from bone ladders let him claim
the murders he confused for love.

 

[greenmountaineer]

The Wichita I knew
was curfew due to BTK--
because he let children decide between
standing on toetip or
strangling to death
for hours. Therefore
children couldn't be out
doors to see stars.

For 10 years or so, this scrubby
little sadist, Dennis Rader?
He went underground. Unheard of!
A serial killer sublimated
his thrill in pest removal.
Killed a skunk at my aunt Kathy's bank.
She was glad that he removed
the whole family before they could spray.
He could have stayed low but finally
dumb pride leaned his swollen head
and open mouth to drink the lure:
you were so feared ten years ago. I dare

you. Are you dust? You.

That is how a nightmare ends.
he was never tall, just needy.
Pathetic. Greedy.

Finally only flying paper airplanes
from bone ladders let him cash
the deaths which were the closest
he ever came to love.

I remember this well. At his sentencing he contradicted the prosecutor, going into more detail about his crimes and did so in a dispassionate way, almost like a pathologist would. I’ve been inside the mind of killers before, having spent nearly 40 years working in Corrections, but I had never witnessed anything quite as bizarre as that.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

I remember this well. At his sentencing he contradicted the prosecutor, going into more detail about his crimes and did so in a dispassionate way, almost like a pathologist would. I’ve been inside the mind of killers before, having spent nearly 40 years working in Corrections, but I had never witnessed anything quite as bizarre as that.

Generally I oppose the death penalty. That guy, not so much.

 

[greenmountaineer]

#4

Prison Art

Tattooing his four right fingers with H A T E, his L O V E, what’s left of it, bleeds.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

Also Invalid is powerful. There are so many ways to validate.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

Dear men,

I don't actually hate you. Well.
Not many. In spite of the Ledbetter
who raped me, the Leto who tried
to kill me with his car, the Scarborough
who gave kids drugs, the Emery
next door who raped his daughters
and got one to molest my baby brother.
In spite of the Kiraly who corrupted
my computer with child porn, in spite
of the man who drugged my drink and
the other who grabbed me on the street
and the dozens of others who jeered, who
called me "Cunt" or "Whore"-- in spite
of all these woman haters,

I still love you.
But
we have work to do.

 

[todski28]

Dear men,

I don't actually hate you. Well.
Not many. In spite of the Ledbetter
who raped me, the Leto who tried
to kill me with his car, the Scarborough
who gave kids drugs, the Emery
next door who raped his daughters
and got one to molest my baby brother.
In spite of the Kiraly who corrupted
my computer with child porn, in spite
of the man who drugged my drink and
the other who grabbed me on the street
and the dozens of others who jeered, who
called me "Cunt" or "Whore"-- in spite
of all these woman haters,

I still love you.
But
we have work to do.

Dear Women I don’t actually hate you,
Well. not Many
In spite of your lack of agency or acceptance of your decisions
in spite of all the men you picked
with emotion, vagina and resources viability
not their carachter, their integrity, or their willingness
to sacrifice for you
as if love should be void of any reasoned depth
all the times you abused our children while
I worked, the times you couldn’t handle your own shit
and demanded I do something about it
the times you used the kids
as bargaining chips in your sociopolitical games
those pawns that can’t reason in their own defence
the times you murdered those children
(The big secrect women do it more than men)
As petty revenge or because you couldn’t cope
The false rape accusations
witch hunt trials and character assignations
a total destruction
where you can still claim your victim status
with no repercussion
The boys you rape in schools, with no more thought
than they want you because they’re men
the emotional black mail
manipulations and abuse you hurl with venom and vitriol
as if it’s your god given right
but someone raise their voice in defiance
screams of misogyny
woman hater
more tools of shame so you can be smug
self righteous and look down
from your imaginary pedestal

Dear women I still love you
but please let’s have
an honest conversation
where all faults are laid
at the feet of their responsible parties
because half a conversation
is an attack
a shaming
and of little worth
except for a power grab

 

[cherries_on_snow]

Dear Women I don’t actually hate you,
Well. not Many
In spite of your lack of agency or acceptance of your decisions
in spite of all the men you picked
with emotion, vagina and resources viability
not their carachter, their integrity, or their willingness
to sacrifice for you
as if love should be void of any reasoned depth
all the times you abused our children while
I worked, the times you couldn’t handle your own shit
and demanded I do something about it
the times you used the kids
as bargaining chips in your sociopolitical games
those pawns that can’t reason in their own defence
the times you murdered those children
(The big secrect women do it more than men)
As petty revenge or because you couldn’t cope
The false rape accusations
witch hunt trials and character assignations
a total destruction
where you can still claim your victim status
with no repercussion
The boys you rape in schools, with no more thought
than they want you because they’re men
the emotional black mail
manipulations and abuse you hurl with venom and vitriol
as if it’s your god given right
but someone raise their voice in defiance
screams of misogyny
woman hater
more tools of shame so you can be smug
self righteous and look down
from your imaginary pedestal

Dear women I still love you
but please let’s have
an honest conversation
where all faults are laid
at the feet of their responsible parties
because half a conversation
is an attack
a shaming
and of little worth
except for a power grab

Dear T,
I laid blame at the feet of responsible parties. Noone made the rapist rape, the abuser attempt murder, the chilc rapist rape his daughters. Those little girls did not make their father a rapist. We, men and women, have work to do.
Peace.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

Going Forward

Women must be drafted as are men
to war so that rich men have no sexual
motivation for killing young men.

Men must end rape and human trafficking.
Women must stop being Barbies and become
autonomous humans. Men
Stop choosing barbies over autonomous
women.

Women stop reading Cosmo manpleasing tips and start reading the Wall Street Journal. Men
stop watching porn. It fucks up your psychosexual scripts. Women, stop reading
romance novels. They fuck up your psychosexual scripts.

All genders: stop being products. Stop being
consumers of fake power and fake beauty.

Maybe we can be people, finally.

 

[greenmountaineer]

#5

Dear Yolanda

Consulting doctors wouldn’t have said “few”
the chances after all the tests were done

while you, wheeled in your Southern Baptist pew,
had visions of a baby girl as bold

as “No,” at best for six more months, retold
as therapy to slow the virulence.

Yolanda, Dearest, some will read and wince
at this poem, one you shall never hear.

She was four pounds four ounces of power.
Your brain was dead, though an eye shed a tear.

(True story)

 

[greenmountaineer]

#6

Cemetery on a Vermont Dirt Road

Where the grass is seldom mowed
there are stories to be told
under the moss and mold.

Take a stiff brush with ammonia,
though there isn’t much to be said from
the date of birth until

the date of death, except
we know this much: life ended
in 1918 for Joseph T. White,

and what about little Ethel and Kate
and Mary, loving mother and wife
the year of the Spanish flu?

And then there’s Ed Tebetes
who, I’m sure is missing a “t”
forever in eternity.

Is life but a pin prick of eternity?
We can only hope as others do.
Notice the flatten grass

and footpaths among the stones,
but for one in the corner
I discover is Anne Covington,

a spinster I found who died at 90
whose grave I trod a footpath around
where the grass is seldom mowed.

 

[todski28]

I think she fell in love with me today
as she held the handgrip dynamometer
and said to squeeze,
the dial beeped past
the measure for strong at 50.2kgs
and stopped just shy of 90
she giggled
flushed a slight red
before moving it to my left hand
where she issued the command of

squeeze
again
the dial stopped just shy of 90,

she looked confused,
asked are you right or left handed?

I smirked
told her
you have the results
why don’t you tell me

 

[todski28]

Dear T,
I laid blame at the feet of responsible parties. Noone made the rapist rape, the abuser attempt murder, the chilc rapist rape his daughters. Those little girls did not make their father a rapist. We, men and women, have work to do.
Peace.

Dear C
Half a conversation is societal damnation not of you or what was written,
Bashing men and blaming them for everything is culturally indoctrinated
Praising men or trying to help them is counter culture these days.

Most men aren’t the few that fuck up
Most of the worst fuckups are men
but averages point to the fact women
are equally as messed up
but is not paraded through the public square
every second of every day.

 

[greenmountaineer]

#7

The Seventh Poem

A love poem would be nice
on the seventh day,
and for some reason I thought about
the lover’s quarrel with the world.

Should not love at the very least
be self-evident? Is it not
to will the good for the other,
not how to turn a phrase?

When home became an infirmary
I thought about you in silence
during a dark night of the soul,

the wrinkles at the edge of your eyes;
call them smile wrinkles. I am humbled
by them. I am wrinkled. They make me smile.

 

[todski28]

I Stopped To Share Your Grief


I try to curl my hands
around darkness
to hold back
the inevitability of night
as if my will
petty as it is
can hold sway over cosmic balances
I know nothing about

all I am is a man
simple
inelegant
but if I could hold you
just enough
to share the weight
that hangs from loss
then maybe it won’t pull you down
to fathomless depths

I see the way you pretend
you don’t need anyone to depend on
I can’t be your rock
don’t have it in me
but I can hold you
through some of your pain
until you can write it out
press your wrists on stained oak
and pray.....

we trudge
weary step after weary step
I would carry you
a small way

wash my hands in your tears
anoint them with
the dark plot twist

the beauty of your sadness
is a blade
slicing through
the ether

know that when you cradle
around what once pulsed with life
entwined and tangled withiin

I am flesh and blood
my heart beats
and I left a note
when you couldn’t

for as much love as you needed
she had it

for as much joy you could have gained
she was there to share it

every pain
she would have bled with you

though you left this world
a darker place
I would hold tight
plunge the potential
of all you were
into the soil

hope anew

I
let go
softly

 

[Jada59]

Body swaying to Aretha
I see you out there
Standing alone
Moonlight glinting

I stare, as you stare
Our eyes lock
Not uncomfortable
But passionate

You run so fast!
I feel you next to me
Body heat rising
Breathless and panting

So close but not touching
Arm hairs brushing
Lips parting slightly
Words stammering

Girlish giggles
Boyish grins
The two of us
So close together

Talking of craft supplies
And other silly things
Avoiding the obvious
And yet...

I can feel it
So thick in the air
Mutual fervor
Trying hard to escape

I beckon you closer
To look at a picture
You come around to my side
And stop there abruptly

Deep intake of air
I see the big gulp
From your Adam's apple
As you look at me

And then?
Your gaze turns
To the open bedroom door
Lips form a circle

Another boyish grin
A deep sigh
As you turn again
Towards my computer

You now look serious
As your eyes scan the screen
You must move closer
The object is small

You graze my shoulder
As you lean in to look
Your soft brown curls
So close to me

Our eyes meet deeply
You tell me goodnight
And I laugh, reminding you
It is now morning

And you leave
Just as suddenly
As you came in
Striding quickly

And just as quickly
You come back in
Again and again
Looking, asking

Plastic bags
And other things
That I suspect
You don't really need

Frivolous excuses
Reasons to be near me
Things that could wait
Until we get out of bed

But we never get in bed
Not my bed
Not together
We sleep alone

Alone and wanting
Wanting and wondering
When we will be brave?
I feel it getting closer

Closer every day
And one day soon
I will feel you
Deep inside of me

 

[Jada59]

Pink ballet shoes
So fitted to my feet

Like a second skin
Snug and very neat

My core sucked in
As toes point hard

Must remember
To not let down my guard

A simple tendu
I shall do ten

Then the other foot
And back again

Up on releve
Both feet roll through

Up and down
Shall do a few

Tracing patterns
On the floor

I'll keep it up
And do some more

Warmed up now
I begin to dance

Thoughts tumbling
Full of romance

Floating, spinning
Light as air

Lost in the music
Without a care

Oh if only
Life were like this

I'd be totally lost
In sheer bliss

 

[Jada59]

Days grow cooler
Nights cooler still

Soon we'll wear sweaters
To knock off autumn's chill

Dusty mums blooming
Here and there

Their nasty pollen
Fills the air

Leaves of kale
Purple and green

So stiff and tough
They almost look mean

Darkness comes
At an early time

Making my bed
Seem sublime

Pumpkins and gourds
On display

Orange, green, cream
Such an array

I'll chop root veggies
And make a stew

Come sit with me
I'll share with you

We'll welcome in
The change of season

Make it party time
There's no better reason!

 

[Jada59]

Silent tears
That do not fall

But deep inside
We want to bawl

We come together
Your shirt, my skin

Comforting close
Drinking in

Your manly aroma
My perfume, sweet

Pressed so closely
Our arms meet

And we now stand
In a still embrace

We draw even closer
As our fingers trace

Around and around
Up and down

I feel them groping
The back of my gown

Heads on shoulders
And breathing soft sighs

I feel my juices
Trailing down my thighs

The first moan
Escapes my lips

I snuggle closer
Shifting my hips

Soon you are moaning
And I am too

I just had an orgasm
How about you?