30 Poems in 30 Days

[Yoron]

---------leftovertime-0221-

Love in a minstrels eye

Red as molten iron
Blue as flames of yesterday
Black as the songbirds plume

The pupils wide open sweeping you in

Touching your soul touching you
A warm hand on your arm
echoes of tenderness
fragrant dreams

All in the eye of the beholder

Though beware of Gods bearing gifts
as some boxes is best left alone

-

 

[AChild]

?3-15

Slather

chicken thighs on sticks
in the middle of the grill is the sauce
they cook and baste
sugar burning

they cook and baste
sugar burning

it is a brown not found in any frame
the black bars tell the story
the flames send fliers
scent on the wind

 

[Anschul]

1-15 Halfway (deep sigh)

Leaving Home

Leaving home is always hard, they say.
Been here so long this place is in my blood
Like too much alcohol. This sun-drenched day
Is melancholy, as fond memories flood
My consciousness: a love, a hate, a time
When many disparate parts converged to make
A moment, lingering sweet and sublime
Among the chattel I must try to break
Away from, and move on to other things
For other people. Time to take a chance,
Find a new adventure, see what life brings
In a new place, imagine now a dance
To different music, different beat. No rain
On her parade. A loss becomes a gain.

 

[Anschul]

1-16

My Woman

When difficult problems strike at the hearts
Of little girls, she always knows the right
Thing to say, the right thing to do. She starts
Their days with simple words designed to light
The way for them. She makes each morning seem
Like the most important part of her day,
And sends them off into the world a team
Against all odds. She wants her babes to stay
Connected, partners, growing up as friends
Who will always be there for each other,
To stand forceful and tall against strong winds
That lead lesser folk to look for cover.
When pressure builds, and some appear to burst,
Priorities on straight, she's Mother first.

 

[AChild]

?3-16

dream of freedom from the cage
the second stage is changing
the people don't look the same
with out the chains

this was just a dream I had
but I still cried when I woke
they didn't without their masters
they simply called out like lost
childrem

 

[AChild]

3?-17

quickening

what process is life to be called?
tired

Happy Mother's day

In the sun I see your face
cause you love the sun so much
I want to give you sand on this day
like on your 40th birthday when
you played on the beach by yourself

I forget you mom
not how you are but what you look like
I always see that picture of that woman
with the flower in her hair
she has a shiny forehead
and a red shirt

when I finally see you
every time I am jolted by
the grey hairs you got
growing

not because they dull the image
of the picture, they somehow magnify it
the wisdom in your hair somehow
enhances the smiles of the young girl
who had me so long ago

I love you mother
I am glad your were born
and every time I made you cry, I'm sorry
and every time you made me cry I am grateful

your a great mother because
you mother so many and still have time
for me, the world is happy because
you get a day

 

[Anschul]

1-17

A Beautiful Delusion

They lay on blankets worshiping the sun,
These interlopers, followers of style,
Who gather here, pretend, feign seeking fun
And romance. Teasers, poseurs, dandies, smile;
Empty faces behind blank eyes. Bulging,
Saline-enhanced, barely-covered titties
Beckoning no one; tanned studs indulging
Erotic fantasies, seeking pretties
Who'll make them feel important for a while.
But momentary pleasure passes fast,
Replaced by empty truth--the wan beguile
Each other; precious little here will last.
This empty, lonely parade paints a sad
Portrait of a lovely town gone mad.

 

[Yoron]

-----------------------------------------------------------------summertime-------

Sometimes one wonder what it all about
are we just flesh no higher goal to be seen
Or ants perhaps forever striving for our stash

what exactly is a real human being

Is our dreams as lost as our minds
Pursuit of happiness best found in a shopping mall
Enclosed in time so short that we die before we learnt to live

Compassion trade able for cash
and empathy the sidekick for a fuck
Love as secondhand shoes worn to long


Unconditional love where did that go
Don't you wish you knew
I do

-

 

[AChild]

3?-18

What a great injustice a word is

violent at the bus stop
scaring children or giving
teenagers idea

the beauty of graffiti
make it stay wet
and everyone who
passes by can have it
on their clothes as
in their minds
a translation of the cities
ever change
neon

 

[Anschul]

1-18

A Sailor's Quest

White triangles standing straight and true
Against a deep blue background peaking white,
They lean against the wind, fight their way through
The frothy sea before day turns to night,
When sailors lose their way if not prepared
To use the heavens as their best device
For finding home--their intellect laid bare
Against nature, whose fury makes the price
Of failure steeper even than the risk
Considered. Seamen know what lies ahead
Will daunt the wisest of them, but insist
On taking every chance. With sense of dread,
They venture forward, eye fixed on the prize,
Success the only outcome they surmise.

 

[Anschul]

1-19

Paradise

There's fragrance in the air this time of year--
Hibiscus, bougainvillea, liatris,
And sounds rock the senses: the birds I hear
Are calling for mates. Morning showers kiss
My garden, leave behind a loving drink
That keeps it growing when the afternoon
Sun would beat it down, leave it on the brink
Of thirsty death. Then May will become June,
Flowers will give way to the luscious fruits
Of our labor, rich, green jungle. Life fills
This world with healthy color. Summer suits
This Eden, this tropical wonder; thrills
Around every corner, behind each tree,
Await our hungry eyes, which ache to see.

 

[AChild]

3?-19

Tip my hat to sleep
and say fuck it
ahhh the new amen

the women in the crowd
clutch the child's ears

so much to say but so little time
so little wine left in the bottle and
the sun is doing that finger pointing shit
again

the blue light of the mourning is
only this color because I have seen
the night through

getting ready for the 4th of July
already my living room is full of
fireworks, I want to get losse with
matches and watch my rommies
profit blow like a load
literal stars not just in the head but
from the head

pulsing my noggin throbs
the very devil of the state im in
play the light easy to day im
stepping out for the fashion
of an all dayer

 

[Yoron]

Now this is not my own, it's from the good book as some call it.
But as I already missed my deadline I wanted to share it with you.
Hope you don't mind.

-----------------

-

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.

And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.

Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

Here endeth the lesson."

.
--

 

[Anschul]

1-20

Sweet Relief

Come to me, my precious, come hold me close;
Kiss me in ways that make my heart flutter;
Touch me in those places no one else knows
Fray my senses, make me shake and shudder
With uncontained rapture. Knowing fingers
Trace gentle lines in circles round and round
As I lay supine, your sweet touch lingers
In electric memories. Tightly wound
Inhibitions vanish, body is free
Of tension, pulse quickens, the breath grows short,
The heat rises, the brain crackles, the plea
For sweet relief is answered, you exhort
To screaming release. You watch and savor,
Knowing I will now return the favor.

 

[AChild]

?3-20

time is slipping
what makes a day
morning in my eyes
so maybe I've seen five
days today
each time I blink it's new
-----------------
frozen flour

in the freezer next to
a block of ice
in a paper bag
mixed with soda +
butter chunks

my frozen flower
get her hot and wet
she could make 1,000 pies

 

[Anschul]

1-21

Sweet Dreams

These tender, vulnerable bodies rest
So still at midnight chime and lighthouse flash;
Below the window, roiling whitecaps crest
And fill the marsh with turmoil. Thundrous crash
Belies the vision here before my eyes,
As sleeping babes, ignorant of the storm,
Lie statue-still. Outside, black, cloud-filled skies
Smother a pale moon. A ship sounds forlorn,
Its lonely call disturbing nighttime still,
But shan't awaken those whose night is bless't
With peaceful dreams. A father's heart is filled
With joy at this pure sight of evening's best
Moment. I lie awake each night, it seems,
And revel in the light of their sweet dreams.

 

[AChild]

?3-21

On walks she liked to stare
at the spikey tree
we would make up stories
of how nature made it that way
---------------
corner
sting magician
in his hat are song titles of the real
in four languages
when they clap it disappears

 

[Anschul]

1-22

Mistaken Identity

A dark bank of clouds comes in from the west,
Tourists scurry for cover and a drink,
They never told us it would rain! I guess
The chamber of commerce led them to think
This was indeed the world's most perfect place,
They brought money, fancy clothes, fantasies
Of catching some brass ring. But in their haste
To find perfection, they often leave the keys
To reality behind. The lonely,
Unnatural, artificial paradise,
The one these visitors see, is only
Just another sometimes hard, sometimes nice,
Place. But the lure of the exotic dream
Is hypnotic, the unknown reigns supreme.

 

[Yoron]

And this one is mine actually.
But not really, it's hers..

She is a very brave and lovely girl.
Braver than me I think.

---


Sephrena

Dancing on that drop of water
your whole world mirrored inside
In a breathless moment of anticipation
Innocence reverberating laughing in your soul

There is a time to live
As there is to sorrow

life is now
Now upon now shimmering
As pearls stringed up to rest
instants of your breaths
moments of truth

Some pearls will never shimmer
Those are like souls lost out to hate
Yours though are the pride of every maiden
And of every man worth his salt

Warrior of the soul
Burn freely little one
Flame of love flames so tender
Fill that void and give again

To dare to love the strongest of them all

-

 

[Anschul]

1-23

Stuck

And once again I find myself without
The inspiration to write gold. I search
For something meaningful so I can shout
"I'm worthy of this challenge!" So I lurch
From word to word, conjure up one more rhyme,
I need to keep momentum one more week,
Complete the challenge, write the fourteen lines
That make these sonnets fit the form. I seek
Important themes and feelings, not just trash
To fill the page, to finish what I start.
It might be easier if there were cash
At the end of the line. I'll find the heart
To make these seven poems say as much
As the first twenty-two, regain my touch.

 

[AChild]

?3-22

playing god with
fish oil

split fat among the mass
-es

in this hand I hold the fire
and a forgotten soul

in this hand I hold no pain
and still a forgotten soul

what is a soul with the blood?

in the elevator moving through the
floors pressing buttons down
know where I want to be when
it stops

 

[Anschul]

1-24

Absent Heart

The memory runs hot when ere I walk
On foot-worn paths oft traveled in my youth;
Eyes shut, but still with vision as the hawk,
Images flood the brain, can't paint the truth
In rosy hues. Not able to connect
With pleasant happenings that surely were
A part of childhood, time cannot correct
The wrongs done to a child. He was not there,
As growing up, the learning of the ways
Of a difficult world weighed down the soul
Of a troubled boy given to displays
Of sadness, loneliness, heart less than whole.
In pain of wanting more, a young boy cried,
But he who brought him out would run and hide.

 

[Yoron]

------------------------------------------timeless-

.

Life what a glorious bauble
Lights glistening softly in summers rain
hidden in a pool of rain water
the evening soon to leave

clear voices whips my minds mist into blood red hope
Crisscrossed patterns caress forgotten dreams
etched into our souls singing as we toil
perhaps cloaked Gods still are here
just waiting for our sign

love just a step away.


-

 

[AChild]

?3-23

To eat a strawberry

from the market fresh
no refrigeration
the vendor doesn't understand
when I compliment

I can taste all I want to a limit

red hearts
mixed to the shape of a continent
the first one
seed with the sign of life
glow with the power of having eaten
light

my nails are long and pierce flesh
a worm escapes as I make
questionable stains on the concrete

mold on the underside fuzzy
I smell the cells changing
I eat and remember washing
dirt crunching on the K-9

sweet like alien underwear on the floor
bruised spots take buds to sweeter flesh

the worm hides in my finger nail
a cave, eventually it wraps around my bone
it only peeks out when something is sweet

 

[Anschul]

1-25

Indifference

Awake, sleeping woman, open your eyes
To what is happ'ning while you gaze away.
This circumstance can break a child. So why
Do you allow indifference to betray
The trust a vulnerable boy would give
One to whom respect ought be expected?
Naive in youth, one thinks the right to live
Should be free from this. Could he, rejected,
Thrive in such a cold and unhappy place?
Is it possible to mature alone,
To learn the ways of life without a trace
Of nurturing touch? Or do you bemoan
Your choice? Do you regret the path you chose?
This life before you sees. He feels. He knows.