007 Challenge

[JCSTREET]

Hopw you're doing well

The restless moon
sirens through three
windows out of five
and down the hall of this
railroad apartment.
Slipper feet pad to tap
steam of all its secrets
spilled steep and whispered
into tea.

bet you've writ 50 poems since

 

[AmericanTrash]

bet you've writ 50 poems since

Sadly, no. I only write here.

 

[AmericanTrash]

006

Saturday mornings every one
Banged fury delight awake
By riotous piano at 9 am

 

[JCSTREET]

It's a hell of a life. Tea is good too. And this is Cherries. I missed you friend.

you just gave me a rush

wondered who this interesting new poet was

tripping the quill fantastic

 

[Angeline]

A paper love is primed for origami--
the precious occupation of careful hands
creasing two dimensions into three
ways to be, to lay to rise and stand

and speak! My paper lover's draped with words
burlesquely shedding everything but pearls--
parsing what remains in even thirds:
the fairy tales we shed as little girls

the battles and the ballads we outstrode,
behind us clouds of dust, ambitious trails
recounting alchemistic trials and toads.
Finally the shore. The boat. The sails.

Some lovers write their summers down in chalk.
I'll carve as I await you on the dock.

Lovely sonnet.

 

[AmericanTrash]

In. Out.

To give a diagnosis of lung cancer
over text, one has to be pissed.
Off in this case, but either way.

The woman I love most in the world,
my stepmother, told us all she had
cancer. Lung cancer

via text message. Bravado
mimics bravery. Ok. Fake it till we
make it

better.

 

[AmericanTrash]

Lovely sonnet.

Thank you Angeline. Many kisses back.

 

[AmericanTrash]

Hats and Color Theory

Whether a figure is no color or all color
equates because of contrastual extremity.

I write this poem for my love who abstracts
snow into prismatic snatch grabs of
flyer phone numbers.

I write this poem in the dark after having just
told grown men they should be careful. I didn't
say "don't curse." I said

"Curse interestingly and
with care."

Entire empires have been launched and lost
over comparable transgressions.

 

[YCLEPT]

Whether a figure is no color or all color
equates because of contrastual extremity.

I write this poem for my love who abstracts
snow into prismatic snatch grabs of
flyer phone numbers.

I write this poem in the dark after having just
told grown men they should be careful. I didn't
say "don't curse." I said

"Curse interestingly and
with care."

Entire empires have been launched and lost
over comparable transgressions.

The Muse never sleeps

 

[YCLEPT]

The New Testament

On the way to someplace
Easy with receipts I was stopped completely because
A man with a false moustache,
Possibly a woman with a false moustache,
Raised a hand even with my chest,
Warning I should go no further along my obvious
Path toward calculation and alibi because,
As my therapist says, small doings avoid and thus never
Really get me far. I mean sure
I’d keep my job by appeasing the keen
Payroll secretary. Sure, I’d pick up some
Antibiotics which would have been considered miracles
Just three generations ago,
But the false moustache threw me a little, I confess
To a slight falter and then adjusting to the false
Moustache, I looked up and it was Morgan Freeman
And I realized I was John Denver, luckily not long
Distracted by having a penis and this is what happened
After that: all of the words never written were
Instantly converted to a platinum thumbdrive worn
by Morgan Freeman as a necklace. And here’s where I should have
Shouldered the boulder for eternity just because
Maybe I could have snatched it: that flash of all the words unwritten or
Probably erased. I should have, I know. But I didn’t. I Adamed. Averted my eyes
Pointedly from the safe door to my feet where
curled a false moustache with just enough stick left
for even John Denver to dream
of being Morgan Freeman.

I think Morgan Freeman would like this

laconic
sardonic
ironic
Doric?
nah! not doric

 

[AmericanTrash]

I think Morgan Freeman would like this

laconic
sardonic
ironic
Doric?
nah! not doric

It is a weird plasma bridge between the God movies. George Burns was omitted only because he was unmoustached.

And decidedly Doric.

 

[AmericanTrash]

Herrre Commmmes Another One

Present. 80% of being counted among
Good Guys is showing up
on time. Ready

For any track sparking fast train
any dark cloud drowning deep
any pile of mess left quiet in a locked
desk drawer.

All those unitarded collectibles serialed
by DC or Marvel can be extracted
ingredients in the morning smoothie

fueling the 6am commute
of 8am heroes--pockets full of
surf boards.

 

[AmericanTrash]

bird babble

Operatic pigeon
penguin walking
ululates in the yard.

Base note groans
sexlessly over old thorns
clawed into an archaeology
of nests.

Pigeon's saxophone
rockets perilously
over 14 vibrating necks
each one melting wax
cubes of drama for the
great fans of telenovella.

But wait! Don't give up yet
because pigeon has a high
note that will fuck you
in the ear. Well, not so much
fuck you as finger you

with its tiny claws
both feet now free thanks to the
familiar bucket of home.

Pigeon coos so much love
to Colonel Sanders, but really
Pigeon eats any bird
it can squint into chicken.

 

[AmericanTrash]

Sorry about that last one. I have 4 am birds right by my bedroom window. Probably they are lovely but they are very noisy!

 

[AmericanTrash]

Busness

The wheels on the bus go round and
old school. Cranky driver too but
new charging stations
usb the bussed to whatever
bliss can fit a pocket
equipped with cord.

High schoolers curse and loot
tunes, backstory breakups, fable
backtalk to teacher because the Boss
signals reward is close.

Then there is a different boss. Still
working the boss voice. Old school.
I charge. They brag. We lie
This is my day. My tune. My
film crew. Step out the back door a star,
each and every one.

 

[AmericanTrash]

Setting

Sure, the label is aggressive.
Apples imply serpents. Screw
off top delivers quick

splashy wet to the lips
spilling all over the Uber pool
because conversation

valiantly seduces here, still.
Even millenials put down
their ear buds.

This is why I couldn't go
upwind to the quiet promises
of better. My city

talks to me in every language
even though you talk so
so pretty. Clear and deep

glacier blue stream. Your kiss
is a miracle in the desert. But I'm
stuck in traffic.

 

[Angeline]

Sorry about that last one. I have 4 am birds right by my bedroom window. Probably they are lovely but they are very noisy!

Actually I like your bird poem a lot.

 

[AmericanTrash]

Actually I like your bird poem a lot.

I so love you.

 

[AmericanTrash]

Amsterdam

Dodge City demarcations
fail in Amsterdam where aye
am what aye am what aye am
is the lie lisped by sex trafficked
women sitting next to the pimp
whose thumbprint has broken
blood streams surely as glaciers
catastrophise every warm water.

This window is not her window.
Money is never hers. She
is money. She is this money here
where you read these words.

We used to say behind every great
man is a great woman but all along
behind every profitable woman

is a man with pockets.

 

[AmericanTrash]

Disney

fiction makes sense
has an arc
clear heroes
definite end unless

instances are linked
sausages, serialized
bites fed to the sharks
gnashing stomachs.

Outsiders easily trivialize
Luke vs. Scott or whatnot
Waldorf vs. Vladimir but
all along there was a grid

along which we plotted
each groomed, chewed, half
swallowed beef-
eater on the wall

whose bricks were selected
on a blood by blood basis.

 

[todski28]

Dodge City demarcations
fail in Amsterdam where aye
am what aye am what aye am
is the lie lisped by sex trafficked
women sitting next to the pimp
whose thumbprint has broken
blood streams surely as glaciers
catastrophise every warm water.

This window is not her window.
Money is never hers. She
is money. She is this money here
where you read these words.

We used to say behind every great
man is a great woman but all along
behind every profitable woman

is a man with pockets.

And on the other hand and in the same vein

she plies her wares to the man most worthy
of what it is she’s selling
The gateway to
love
to sex
to the destruction of all he is
in the name of all she offers

as if his very act of offer
is her right to dismiss
because her love is transactional
and his
his is the sacrifice of his wants and needs
to the destruction f his dreams
to provide for her

and we scoff these days and pretend
pretend we’re an equal sum game
doing equal sum things
but she needs the pimp so her neck is not snapped
so that she can collect the profit she deserves
do I agree with it.... no
but I don’t try to paint it for something it’s not

when hypergamy dances behind her instinctual eyes
he’s just a meal ticket she can pay for
with god given gifts
something she didn’t have to earn
and so it’s easy to be resentful
of someone more powerful than you
when you don’t even know
what he had to go through to get it

and so behind every good man
that sacrifices hours, years and
everything to procure resources
is a woman weaponised by the state
able to take it all
by crying her pretty tears

 

[AmericanTrash]

Weapons

In Alabama, in Congo in Syria
Men are weapons cocked and ready
rape daddies

totally fine like it was in Japan.

Like it is in Singapore, India, Indonesia, Malaysia, Pakistan and Sri Lanka, Oman, the United Arab Emirates and Yemen, as well as in Iraq, Iran and the State of Palestine where little girls

have their clitorises forcibly removed

so they can be good wives

to their husbands who cum in them because
they can.

 

[Angeline]

I so love you.

The feeling is so mutual.

(Sorry for the thread hijacks. As you were lol.)

 

[todski28]

In Alabama, in Congo in Syria
Men are weapons cocked and ready
rape daddies

totally fine like it was in Japan.

Like it is in Singapore, India, Indonesia, Malaysia, Pakistan and Sri Lanka, Oman, the United Arab Emirates and Yemen, as well as in Iraq, Iran and the State of Palestine where little girls

have their clitorises forcibly removed

so they can be good wives

to their husbands who cum in them because
they can.

and every man grabs every other man
they link together in harmony
to curate a supply
of clipped clitoris’s
as if it’s a national holiday that
they may bare the fruit of lustless love
creating cum dumpsters of their women
because the fundamental foundation of every man
is that women deserve to be beneath their boots...

or there’s an observable sub trait of
culture a tradition
that causes men to act on behalf of
their religion of peace
to propagate an insane ideology
or cultural norm

societies living in 14century moralistic views
tend to try and control women
because they’re the gateway to the continuation
of the human race

one man can sire hundreds of children
one woman has a limit
making men a disposable commodity
and women
the jewel of society

balance and perspective
are so fucked up
I feel sometimes I might come across as excusitroy
or downplaying our insanity
but narratives have counter narratives
and time burns us all to dust

We are all just a
different shade of insanity
in the chaos

 

[UnderYourSpell]

1 -1

I drink you in, my senses feeding
on every feature,
lost in the love of your face,
learning how beautiful a man can be.
Oh yes I'm biased, but I knew
before I loved you,
how very special you are.
You sing to me "Falling in love again,
I can't help it." and I am replete.