30 Poems in 30 Days

[Yoron]

----------------------------------------------questtime--

I look for something not knowing where to search
Words comes easy as long as they don't matter
Poetry as a worm sinuously slaying my words
arrogance a shield riding soft innards

the human heart its own never ending forge
insidiously spewing envy and hate
burning into that greater forge we call life
life a testing ground and you the eternal soldier

mercy a human concept
how am I doing

why bother
I don't know

-----------------------1144--------

Snipers coolly appraising you sun at their back
in their hands your final judgment rest
total exchange a bullets weight

have they apprehended your life's worth
or do they do it just for kicks

drive by shootings
homicides
Words

And war

To think yourself no easy task
followers of the pack
mostly obey
do you

think

---

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-22 two-fer

Beware of the casual ellipses. It indicates
an assumption that one continues indefinitely in either direction.
It says
even though you have thoughts and talking and other things going on
I am still there in the air, stenching it up with my
cloying . . .

I mean . . .

isn't that annoying?

*************************************************

Doll Collector

When I look up, I see there is a label
over my name. On the label is a typed
category and a number. I've somehow landed
two labels,

perhaps because my features change
with the angle of the light. I am the second and the fourth,

even
when I'd rather be erratic. Singular. I don't

play nicely with others
when they want to share
my viscera.

I hear you still typing.

 

[4degrees]

17-29

drawing near to
feeling some kind of completion
thinking of words depletes
rational
mainstream acts
almost wanting to forfeit
quit before the end
break up with you first
and i can grieve in private.

 

[annaswirls]

again-19

sweet William your bottlecaps scatter

and you tell me I am one of the best
so why have you not yet deconstructed me
into a pile of blocks
splintered wood alphabet with ponies
and alligators and the occasional cloud shape
why have you not deconstructed me, chisel brother down
down into chips and marble dust
build me, build me back up in your image
Mr. William you might have been the one
who could do it where did you go?
I am falling apart no one remembers the order


edited to say- this was actually 20

 

[Yoron]

------------------------------4u---------------------------

it hurts every time
to lose that you loved
to see your dream defiled
you wake up to nothing more
than your slightly overweight ego

some of us don't know how to feel hurt
that doesn't mean they can't
they just don't know how

nobody taught them that they too were allowed to cry
I saw that happen and I couldn't hinder it
and now I'm feeling lost again
I still hope though
and dream

to learn how to cry is never silly my lady
hurts begets hurts in a vicious circle
treating it by tears makes you see
seeing makes you heal a little
day by day

yeah I'm sad today



---------------------------------losingtime1227-


To lose what I just found
It's unfair

To see you disappear
never to read me
to laugh at me
to like me

It makes me rage
can you kill life
I want to

If I could hold you I would ever so gently
whisper how i miss you each time you're gone
rocking you softly like the ocean to see you sleep
I'm not a good singer but for you i would
I want to see you smile
we both need to


---

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-23 Ladies who Launch

A galaxy hidden
on the inside of my elbow
reaches awareness of its existence
at the slide of your hand
over smooth hollow.
Molecular astronauts track
your eyes and wait for signals
of where life will be
discovered next.
A probe launches
from my shoulder to my ear.
I can almost hear the salutation bounce
from my drum, harbinger
of a memorable launch.

 

[AChild]

?3-1

Can't get to the computer for one day and Kurt takes the top spot. damn.
--------------------------
A bridge made out of sugar cane

I keep it in a smallish cup while I'm working
I hand it out to people
they can only see it with their tongues
it's bound with brown eyes, black hair and the American Dream

funny how
The American Dream
only truly exists outside of America

when I hand out the cup
some people can't see the bridge
to them the taste doesn't lead anywhere

others take it back to a vacation
somewhere hot and real
and everyday they drank and ate
soul food bridges
they take pictures but don't cross
to the place where the flavors originate

they can't see
the bonfire with the masked man
who tells first stories
when stories only lived on the tongue

others can see the bridge goes back
to those hot places, those mother lands
when we were all children playing war in the dirt
they take a sip and hear the cards in the bicycle spokes
they see the fields of cane along the road
they taste their first taste that connects the memory

I show them the tiger hiding in the tall grass
I tell them to hold the tail while I steal the teeth
in the ash of the bonfire
I use the tigers teeth to grind the cane

they bring me sticks from each country
stories that I grind down to make the bridge stronger
to make the taste sweeter

 

[annaswirls]

again-21

two nineteens cause a skip

magic numbers like 33.3 and 17.5
seem complicated, nothing to do with fingers and toes
or starfish, spider eyes yet together
in succession
it all adds up

like us together
oddball psycho-wenches together,
whole

 

[4degrees]

17-30

one last gasp
stopping at this
end
my poetry wheel is
rusted in place
again
let it rest
let the rest have
my turns
and in turn,
someday,
i'll churn out
the mother of all
meaningless poems.

thanks for reading me.

 

[AChild]

?3-2

I feel I fail always
can't make these words scream
can't shake the reader in recitation

oh yeah its fine to move to giggles or sighs
but I can't bring the thunder
sound to voices

I want the guitar riff
the mutherfucker
the piercing note

I want to smash the lute
on your head and make you feel
the blood creep into your ears

help me! help me!

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-24

we didn't know it was inhabited when we came
we asked where is your mother

and there was no answer just a nodding waif
waving to us we thought but it was really
acknowledging the sea and the wide world
that had come to it

where is your father we asked and then it took
the party down the shore to meet the chief
and his daughters

the first night there were five of them but one
slept in her father's clothes to become a man
and butchered her sisters finger by finger

so when we woke there were only the chief
his new son and ghost women mourning
flour faces over arms silently serving

the shorn fingers tumbled from the son's pouch
in terragon sauce and I'm ashamed
to say we licked our lips

remarked on the fine smells
of the stew, hungry for all we could catch
from that beach combed and netted

all of it the father the fire the son the beach
sweeping sand out of our tights for all
eternity

 

[annaswirls]

again-22

just cos it's purple
dont make you the king
put a penny in it put a penny in it
and we will call it
even

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-25 Passing the Exam

The Doctor's hand is cool and slight,
professional. But still it lifts
My heart rate like a wind-caught kite.
The Doctor's hand is cool and slight:
caresses curative incite
a blush from cheeks to other gifts.
The doctor's hand is cool and slight
professional, but still, it lifts!

 

[AChild]

?3-3

I've been thinking about death

its a goal of mine
not a goal like seeing the world
but a goal of mine

I must meet death in a way
that satisfies my disposition
just like how I must be successful
because of hard work

I don't know it
I haven't seen it
never seen life slip or even
had some one close go

and I am a young man
stupid, confident
I attack most things with my back
which is just beginning to hurt

my perspective of death
is peripheral vision, in think lensed glasses
an alien blur that moves too fast
from the corners, away from vision
before I can deepen its metaphor

but
-------------------
What I think of death is this

I have seen people in the coffin
with the organ playing
everyone is crying
because they lost a person
while the person lying there has lost the whole world

Fuck Peace.
They know the secret
the real one
they got the edge
on a knowledge that can't be taught
at any school
other than the one you're
enrolled in at birth

When the older ones go I am not sad
what was the expection?
that at some age past a hundred they
would magically regenerate
becoming once again the person you knew from
your childhood
the giant whose hair gets tangled in the stars?

Would you really want them to go on?
becoming more and more the living Dust?

---------------
My Uncles name is Dust

He is my inspiration
a story teller with a gift
for shooting peace moments
which he quickly captures with a camera

A white goatee expands the message
of his smile
he rainbows words with his tone
breaks them open to different points
skittle stars for your ears

He sits in his old chair
taken care of by the women of his life
fighting a cancer
that he will beat

but when the cancer is gone
he will still turn to Dust one day
like the name of his pen,
he knows that truth

so what's this sickness
a test run, a haunted metaphor
in his struggle I am reminded of nature
I hear the clock, his, mine, the world

it screams eventually like a greedy child
the scythe that comes downon a cog
a hammer in its hands
mountains and men are the same ants

---------------
Which is better?

I've been thinking is it death or is it the dying
is death the ultimate pain?
I haven't feared physical pain since I was a child. HA
Or is is the loose ends we leave behind?
you never taught you niece how to drive
to learned to dance
or saw the tips of the world

Which is better?

To burn away like the bad guy
when the sun comes up
screaming, cursing, entertainment
that can be easily brushed aside

or to fade way on the bed
with everyone important gathered around
with talks of light, made so easy until you become
light and simply turn off
a dimmer stitch

I think I want to simply disappear
go on a hike and simply vanish no fire works
no sad good byes
people could remember me in dreams
and talk about my good times over hot drinks

at the time of my disappearance
all the written pages roll scroll out of
the closets, book shelves, data bases
i don't need them sent anywhere
just put them in the photo album next to my picture

 

[Anschul]

1-1

Well, here goes nothing. I've never run a marathon before. We'll see how much stamina I have:


Daybreak

A yellow disc ascends in morning sky,
Illuminating earthbound waves. And sands
Glitter brightly, sparkling crystals. High
Above the shore a sea bird searches, lands
And gathers hard-found sustenance, she must
Achieve another day of life. Her goal:
Survival of the progeny. They trust
And wait success, else lives become the toll
Of nature's cruel, inevitable rush
Toward outcomes man is pow'rless to affect.
No wisdom, no technology can push
The march from natural change. But some reflect
On what our species does to block the road,
On arrogance, which is our moral load.

 

[annaswirls]

fuck fuck fuckitty fuck

thunder storm and tornado warnings
during my writing time
fuck I was 8 away

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-26 Body Shop

Perhaps you came here to hide
pulling off the side of the road
into the soft glade
where tires make no noise,
branches abrade glass until it squeals
no further. Whatever. I don't need
to know why. You are here
and the wide, wide world disappears
as I curl around you, a vine
claiming each slick curve
and crevice of your shuddering frame.
I consume you tendril by tendril
until I have eaten your darkness,
your fired enamel fleck, in lively green
fingers and seed-split fruit.

 

[Anschul]

1-2


These title numbers seem so inconsequential compared to what some of you are producing.
Well...


The Helper

She comes to me at evening, padding light,
To wake the beast within me for a while.
Her gentle touch can make my heart take flight.
The fingers trace a path across my smile,
My cheek, my eyes, my neck, then lower on
And lower still, send shivers to my brain.
I rise to meet her touch, my troubles gone
For one sweet moment. Amidst beating pain
She knows lives hard behind the plastic smile
That faces out. In darkest days the one
True salve, she wisely knows, is to beguile,
To distract, and to pleasure, till it's done.
In fleeting moments, pain can be ignored,
But always there, one never cuts the chord.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-27 Long at Port

The port side of the bed is empty now
except for extra blankets, folded clothes
I've yet to store. A pillow on its prow,
a night-filled sail inviting sleep's repose,
is overplump and overfresh, too new.
The glare of morning sun remarks my loss.
No longer does your pillow smell of you.
The unmolested tuck of sheets exhausts
the fantasy of me as ready wench.
As long as eyes are closed I can pretend
your body is the form my limbs entrench
but innocence is bitter at sleep's end.
My captain's mate is waiting on the deck
imagining aright what is a wreck.

 

[AChild]

?3-4

part skin, part bone all human
all human

with a bend in the road

not just fear

just the realization that
I won't always be able to
lift the world

 

[Anschul]

1-3

The gray clouds gather heavy in the west
For prescient travelers wond'ring as they look
To what lies beyond, wond'ring what the rest
Of time will bring. Proscribed, the karmic book

Illuminates the names of those on board
This one last journey to their destiny
Of finally fulfilled passion. The sword
Of surrender tightly grasped, not ready

To pass on gently into ever night,
Not willing to go softly off the land,
And not prepared to accept this, they fight
For precious time to see through what's been planned.

They pray, desperate, but that he might wait,
To make amends, if only not too late.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-28

at the fringe of sleep
neon blue fissures
pluck phonemes
from the soft banks of brain
insistent that there be
a poem today while it is still
today and not stopping when swatted
merely moving over
like a cat pawing at a bare foot
past breakfast time

 

[AChild]

3?-5

Computer is dying

hark a new day
the timbers coming close
the dream pushes me back and calls me close
I wish I had more time and more conviction

 

[Anschul]

1-4

Friendship

One cannot measure how encouragement
Can lift a soul in need of friendly words
In time of struggle. Poetry is vent
When other forms give no sweet outlet. Heard
A kindness, wishing well, and just in time
To soothe an angry heart. The thunder near
This trembling voice creates a poison vine
That must be rooted out, else friends will hear
The evidence of unplanned emotions
Piercing the atmosphere. But thanks to those
Who lend their kindness selflessly, oceans
Of praise can mollify a heart that goes
Too often to inappropriate rage.
The gift of friendship helps one reengage.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-29 Afternoons at the Matinee

only quiet in the womb of night
can he still hear the one
who haunts him
no longer her words but her tone

revenant's breathless why
shivers forth its liquid mirrors

closing his eyes is futile
she's printed on the inside
the only cure

is to take her in effigy
to seduce
a doppelganger
dress her in blue
and hope
she won't run when he hands her
the bottle of dye.