30 Poems in 30 Days

[sassynyc]

1-4 Sacrament

Break the body slowly
and bear witness to
the dissolution of transgression
into nothingness

Atone with viscous sips
of sanctity
Wash down evidence
of fallible human nature
until it is pressed
into repentance

 

[champagne1982]

summer2008-6

Amazing Mind

we are the architects of tomorrow
cliché but the truth tends
to old saws and old wives tongues
waggles wattles under gobbler chins

but still the blueprint rests
tangled in the double helix
of chromosomal instances

we can read
we can design

today into the future marvels
fantastic human mind

 

[the Snood]

1 - 17 - I married E.F. Hutton

Whenever I hear her voice,
a song or a whisper, as of
autumn leaves rustling
against the backdrop of life,

my ears uncoil like ferns,
straining themselves
in search of a rain
of ideas, art or love.

It matters not a whit
what she says.
It could be a shopping list,
a poem or "Hey you!"

Whatever - it is of my love.
I will soak it up and store it
in my heart as if it were a jewel,
because it is of she.

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 4

Solemn ego strives to strike a balance
and present fractured self as unified
as the superego fights the Id’s dance.

The self is not composed merely by chance-
external forces framed by clay inside.
Solemn ego strives to strike a balance.

Conflicting elements hidden from glance-
rage and ecstasy wash like flowing tide
as the superego fights the Id’s dance.

Drives towards solitude, distrust, and romance-
embracing childish trust within has died
Solemn ego strives to strike a balance.

Artistic craft, self-expression enhance
the dynamics I would otherwise hide
as the superego fights the Id’s dance.

If in life’s journey I am to advance,
I’ll rejoice in the war where I reside.
Solemn ego strives to strike a balance
as the superego fights the Id’s dance.

 

[Tzara]

Ate

I Sleep All Emo After Watching Rebel without a Cause
for J., with thanks

In my dream, I hear his strangled voice
emerging from the darkness
of some street in adolescence, garroted.

Then the stills begin to flip,
flip, flip past my narcoleptic brain:
Apollo in a windbreaker,

a cowboy hat,
a low gray car, 130, smashed
by—get this—a guy named Turnupseed,

somewhere near Cholame.
So, like, maybe even Zeus was envious,
as He often was. Anyway,

Jimmy died.
The reason why I'm saying this,
why I think I had this dream

is how I'm left here wanting him
and his thin red windbreaker, so more, much more
than pretty Natalie and wondering: Is that OK?


.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-5 Three Cups

. . . . .

 

[sassynyc]

1-5

Angels link

The wings are tapered, tucked
to facilitate mobility among man
The halos are muted
so as not to outshine purpose
But, if one looks closely
with more than just eyes
there is always a flicker
a reticent glow
Perhaps it is aura
The presence of latent illumination
that emanates this internal light
They walk, silent, in mortal company
A compass to hearts, a lamp to feet
On occasion, a plume is shed
Left behind to signify
that man is not alone

 

[champagne1982]

summer2008-7

Still Broken

Damned thing
I said when I realized
wounds don't heal
the way they should
my bones feel shredded
even now
I am rotten
from the inside out
damned thing.

 

[Tzara]

9

Terzanelle: On First Kiss
After Brancusi

It's such a strange formality to kiss,
when lovers finally meet their lover's press
and touch becomes the speech to voice their bliss.

And voice it has, to either doom or bless
the nascent union of two too fond hearts.
How lovers at last greet their lover's press

speaks volumes as to whether this now starts
a deepening of love, or starts the end
of nascent union of two too fond hearts

where each seeks more compatible loves, friends.
Thus, tension. Will there still be spark and raw,
swift deepening of love, or marks this end

of brief and violent passion? Flame or flaw?
For this is but the first important touch,
attention. Will there still be spark—a raw

mutual attraction? It means so much,
for this is but our first important touch.
It's such a strange formality to kiss:
now touch becomes our voice, and speech, and bliss.


.

 

[the Snood]

1 - 18 - Business and Pleasure...

Concrete zoo: humans caged by circumstance,
breathe despair, eating one anothers' lives.
Watch me work, bending metal pipe I dance,
on an edge, nursing hope this job outlives

even though hardware I install now gives
to the Man power over privacy.
Still unsure, some I know will not forgive
what I do, peckerwood is all they see.

One of them, trusting the bureaucracy,
comes to me, asks if I would share her bed.
She was saved, with a child in infancy
by my work, cameras the others dread.

I demure, hold her, lie about my wife,
how she would not understand, sex for life.

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 5

Failed Growth

In garden fair of roses bright
a distinguished gentleman strolled
a path of comfort; clear and trite.

Approached a friend with an invite
to walk with him and to behold
the garden fair of roses bright.

The gentleman pointed with spite
to a toppled planter that rolled
a path of comfort; clear and trite.

For this planter often made right
would fail against wind to stand bold
in garden fair of roses bright.

In hushed tone, he starts to recite
the tale- his son’s departure cold
against the comfort; clear and trite;

a replay of repeated fight.
He warns of untried steps of old
in garden fair of roses bright-
path of false comfort; clear and trite.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-6 place holder

the sky is beautiful again
above us as we walk
shifting as we shift
way too late in low
rumbling laughter
my friend I have
missed you too
and my cheek
in your palm

 

[champagne1982]

summer2008-8

 

[Anschul]

2-1 Am I crazy to try this again?

Words

She touches me in places that I thought
Were closed off from the light of day. But how
She penetrates the defenses I've fought
So hard to erect is mystery. Now

Am I vulnerable? Can she now touch
The heart I've so far managed to protect?
In my dark places, there can't be too much
Left to guard, if with words she can affect

The way I see the world, the way I love,
The way I go through life, the way I care,
The way the world sees me. Alas, she wove
A web that caught me blindly unaware.

With mighty words she turned me on my heel.
This changes what I know, and what I feel.

 

[Tzara]

X

Mythe

From deep in the sacred stream of sleep
I am raised awake
by the song of noisy birds.

I had been happy, dead
to touch and scent
in a field of white flowers,

but the insistent earth
sprouts vines from its damp soil
to entwine my limbs,

wash me in the fragrance
of honeysuckle and jasmine, until
I own no slumbered sense,

but walk and laugh and roll
in the lush greenery of Persephone's rich fields,
unwary of my necessary Fall.


.

 

[sassynyc]

1-6

Trouble Man link

So much of your life ensconced in shadow
Troubled troubadour of contrasted existence
Your soul divided, exemplified
the duality of man

Inside heightened consciousness
the weight of self destruction bears down

Your life, a walk on tight rope, conflicted
aware, no net is cast
to break the imminent fall
Through ugliness lived
you birthed incomparable beauty

A study in alchemy, you spun
threads of golden light from pewter clouds

A mortal soul, immortalized
through the gift of discography
Your haunting refrain echoes from
the stillness of shadows

​

 

[the Snood]

1 - 19 - I must take Urdu lessons...

Morning, on the interstate; cannot wait for the night.
Weary, on this Wednesday; ready now for the night.

Going up to Viking Lake; Martin wants speakers NOW.
Summer's made me comatose. I'll stay here for the night.

My beloved's not at home; duty's called her away.
Driving home is meaningless, without her for the night.

Morning, chewing up the miles: coffee and NPR.
Glaring sunrise chases me. Eyes are made for the night!

Inbound after two days' work, longing for my own bed.
Lover calls, will be home soon! We'll stay up for the night...

Payday, meeting her in town; sleeping in, next to her.
Waking full of wonderment, how I live for the night!

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 6

Pussy Tamed

As he caressed the curves of her,
She yielded to his gentle touch.
“I love you,” she said with a purr.

The heat within began to stir.
She mewed with delight, moaning much
as he caressed the curves of her.

She licked him like a cat licks fur.
Sucking his cock, sheets in his clutch
“I love you,” she said with a purr.

Both heated lovers would concur
all was right with love as their crutch
as he caressed the curves of her.

With hearts ablaze he did enter
her wetness, hot and sweet as such.
“I love you,” she said with a purr.

Liquid sex and sweat did transfer
with heights of ecstasy nonesuch.
As he caressed the curves of her,
“I love you,” she said with a purr.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-7 Nine of Disks

. . .. . .

 

[Anschul]

2-2 Plain People

Plain People

The road before me, canyon cut through corn
As far as one can see. A summer day,
A country lane, the fragrances airborne--
Ripe peaches, field tobacco, new mown hay;

Calico-clad girls and black-britches boys
Pick corn and beans beneath the blazing sun,
No time for whimsy, work instead of toys,
There'll be no playtime here 'til work is done.

By every farmhouse, flat ghosts in the breeze--
Black trousers, flowered dresses, scrubbed by hand.
Mules and cows graze lazily under trees,
And farmers' wives sell produce from a stand.

A culture for whom centuries stand still,
A simple life lived by the force of will.

 

[sassynyc]

1-7

Prez link

Hatched in Mississippi
migrated to New Orleans
A quaint songbird
spread his wings
Took flight, head cocked
at 45 degrees
vibrant plumage of eccentricity
His lips sang
a bluesy refrain to the reed
Sleepy-eyed mellow stare
More behind it
than lyrical tones, pushed
through pipes, on air
Deep as ocean, light as rock
Signature vernacular, chirped
to fellow birds
of his flock

​

 

[Tzara]

11

Sachet

That night—a favorite gift I keep
Safe among the spices
In the cupboard of my memory:

The crisp scent of your chemise,
The long flavor of your hips.


.

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 7

Fonts Century Gothic and Tahoma-
common and exciting as a coma

Marlett and webdings in their cryptic way
My secret words, they will never betray.

The Freestyle Script adds a flowery touch,
meanwhile Tandelle thinks I’m writing too much.

Times New Roman like a good friend held dear
expresses my words clean and always clear.

As for today’s poem, it’s in dire want
I’m way too busy playing with the font!

 

[champagne1982]

summer2008-9

Perseids and more...

Given to the meteors
and missed, most sorely
every time the galaxy
cries bright tears

into the atmosphere
we will remember
that the best
isn't always
what it seems to be.

Grief burns away
look up and see
even eternals
like the Perseids
mourn each year

and with the pain
acceptance
another year
we've been alive.

 

[the Snood]

1 - 20 - delight in qijue

Pull my hair in tufts of joy,
my skull crushed in rapt action.
Let my body be destroyed,
I will brook no distraction.