30 Poems in 30 Days

[PandoraGlitters]

2-8 Hurricane

after sprays subside
we begin by noting
what is left of us
surprised we are
shook loose limbed and easy

burnished in the amber
slowing us down so we
can both see even on
opposite sides of the veil
that thin silk scarf
you tied behind
my head

 

[Tzara]

Twelve

Love Poem, Written in Jejune

There was never any way I could have asked
for your sudden love.
I had to craft, with but the charm
of steady, dull attention my only tool,
a sturdy cabinet, its surface polished smooth.

And though it's stale to say
that this cabinet holds my heart,
it does. Oh, and it holds some other thing
kept carefully in dark for you—
another, not-so-limpid, part.


.

 

[the Snood]

1 - 21 - Spirals and Recursion

from
the
darkness,
beloved
Mistress comes to me,
asks only that I worship her.

 

[sassynyc]

1-8

The Last Dance link

The chronology of a kinship
boiled down
to a concentrated paste,
spread to fill the angles
of the all-seeing lens

And just like that…
two lives
and twenty-plus years
are compressed, infinitely, in frame.

Against the backdrop of swing
and the birth of cool,
the legend of Lady and Pres
were painted.

Here lies the rise, thrive
and fall of their story,
told between solos and silent glances.
The remnants of personal heavens and hells
experienced together and apart
float to the top, like hope in a bubble
To this they cling, knowing
there will be no more.

Reconciliation, claimed but unspoken
between kindred spirits. Two shooting stars
that have reached their zenith, on a steady plummet
towards ground. Rapt in recollection of sweeter days,
and the knowledge that this is the last dance.


​

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 8

Halo gleam illusion
blinds doubt and true judgment.
You’ve built a delusion.

You sketch bright confusion-
attempts to represent
halo gleam illusion.

Wiley ways in fusion-
actualization bent.
You’ve built a delusion.

Evil heart allusion
to your early torment.
Halo gleam illusion

Conceit in diffusion-
to mankind you descent.
You’ve built a delusion.

Self-deceit conclusion
Fall prey to lies content
Halo gleam illusion
You’ve built a delusion.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-9 Death (Transformation)

. . . . .

 

[champagne1982]

summer2008-10

Sateen

They're not see through
as much as translucent
not a garment, really,
more a decoration;

gilding the lily
as it were, but pretty
oh so shimmery
with the irridescent
weave aglitter

against even smoother
silk settled wet,
inside dark creases
shaping the fabric.

 

[Anschul]

2-3

First Night

I'm watching the Olympics from Beijing,
The spectacle is amazing. The bright
Colors, moving images, hearts that sing
With pride as dancers fill the gauzy night,
Smiles big as toothpaste ads on every face.
A life of dedication here fulfilled
As each competitor readies the race
Of his or her life. The people all thrilled
By the emotion of the moment. Here
On the other side of the world, China
Makes efforts to allay its peoples' fear
Of an ebarrassment. The designer
Of the first night's event has set a bar
For excellence by athletes from afar.

 

[Tzara]

Thirteen

Laundry Fetish

It's her bra
and it's bright red,
underwired,

big, and I've been charged
to wash it,
among her other things

and, shit, I'm perved
on how the nylon pooches out
to accommodate her curves

(though not so much
as I'd like to
be one with them right now).

Wow!
Sorry. Some little squirt
of stain remover

makes me wonder
Whose lips? How catsup
found this pointy place.

I know. Meow.
No, anyway, I want
to wash this thing

and get it really,
really clean,
because someday I

will be here, christening
this fragile fabric
with my kiss,

and, boy, do I like how
her long, stiff nipples perked
up this netted mesh

that I now drench with Tide
and then
consign, co-sign, resign

to a world named Delicate.
Not like I wouldn't be,
anyway, you know.



Touch early, yeah. Like, sue me. I'm elsewhere tomorrow.

 

[sassynyc]

1-9

The Songstress link

She bends rhythm on its ear
traverses the canal
beats the drum

She listens with her body
it becomes her
heartbeat, her pulse

Channeling through her limbs
‘til she sees Technicolor hues
By the time it’s reached her hips
she can sing in color too

What she sees and hears
are one, a rainbow
marching band of notes

Lady ain’t just
singin’ blues
She croons, red stilettos
pink sunsets and
jade grass under morning dew

​

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Panties and Hot Wax

Her hand is professional, given that it is between
my legs, stroking muslin over warm wax
until it perfectly hugs the curve
of my tendon.

With one hand she sharply rips!
Strips me of cloth/wax/hair as immediately
the other hand cools my flesh
with cream. My neck falls long to gasp

at this delicate torture. After the sixth strip
she says I must roll over, cradling my ankle
against her abdomen and I know

with my toes she is soft as well as strong.
My readiness trembles as she paints
warm wax to the string
of the flimsy, disposable thong.

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 9

Mountain Sunset
a haiku

sun set in ochre
shadows splayed in angles
across rocky peaks

 

[champagne1982]

summer2008-11

Thunderful

Roll over me with great
noise and exuberance
I want to taste
the electric blue sky
after it's stabbed
by white blades
of fiery power. Dance
to the echoes
booming off the clouds
and feel the shower
of godly sweat
just as the humidity
breaks the back
of heat and sultriness
and the wind blows
thunder against my skin.

 

[the Snood]

1 - 22 - viator amatorie

Avenging Angel, sword raised high,
standing guard outside Christchurch Cathedral.
Bare breasts stand proudly in cold July wind,
her entire nude form is poised to strike.

Angels need no halos to identify themselves;
that no dust dares settle on her proves her provenance.
I drink her perfection, imagine gently running
a knife along her thigh, stroking her face.

Tacked to the wall in my billet are two condoms,
one labelled “Mission,” the other “Impossible.”
Gods, a year on the Ice is too long! One of the Navy
women worked the night, but I didn't know whom.

Now I'm outside Bailey's, standing in snow and
fantasising about a frigid, 30 foot woman of stone.
How weird is that? Somewhere “up there,” a
demi-Goddess looks down, hopefully amused.

Starting to shiver, I return to my mates, the pub,
my slow trek to the baking, benighted North.
Once I've gone, and far from the reach of Man's eyes
and the eyes of mens' reach, a stone thigh trembles.

 

[Anschul]

2 - 4 Just Under the Wire

Summer Storm

As dark descends on baking fields of green,
As evening's breeze brings on blessed relief,
As storm clouds roll down off the hills between
The sky and me, I'm struck with new belief.

It's all around me, beauty painted stark,
In browns and greens beneath a rising moon,
White flashes spitting beauty as the dark
Night comes rolling in from the west. But soon

The peaceful silence will be broken hard,
As clouds close in and bring the quenching rain.
Above the ground a dome of black, once starred
Becomes a roiling maelstrom once again.

There is a violent beauty to the storm,
And this we lack the power to transform.

 

[Tzara]

14

Blue Hypotenuse

I am the long reach
that joins these halting two

to meet each other, square.
In my Pythagorean sight,

I will and dare
that right angle to collapse,

for I am root to both
and yet not part

of anything but ratio.
I'm sign. I'm cosine.

I stretch both under two and one,
but last become tangential heart.


.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-11 Knight of Swords

The reach of your blade? It is long as light
and immediate as utterance, dually processed.
This time your keys work. You ease your science

into my bole, cauterizing the living from the dead
so that green channels renew, enabled to carry
your alternating current. Your flint never fails,

only resets, and with each waking, it defaults to me,
shivering and electric in the extended flame of mind.1

1. Zoroaster

 

[sassynyc]

1-10

Waterlilies

Four-sided escape, hanging
on a bathroom wall
I disappear inside this frame
and forget where “here” is
for a little while

If I stare long enough
the pond ripples
carrying the scent
of death downstream

Afforded illusion, peering
through teary curtains

I watch the word
O n co l o g y
fade, until it dissolves
in murky depths
and means no more
than the word “goldfish”
in my mind’s glossary

I redefine recovery
with my mother’s name

Peeled from
sanctuary in a frame
I wear the plaster
of a Lucite smile
to hold her hand


​

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 10

To My Stillborn Twin

Awaking blurred from dreams unknown
A voice, a welcome door to life
In mother’s arms, I am alone.
My life marred by initial strife.

Your death a mystery until
the loss explained at early age.
My childhood held a vicious chill-
against life itself I held rage.

Prior sensation told the tale
of missing pieces unfulfilled
A loss of monumental scale
My life, I continued to build

I consider what could have been.
No doubt we will embrace again.

 

[the Snood]

1 - 23 - revivisco viviscere vixi

At some point, there is nothing else.
We are one soul, one body,
with neither secrets nor fears.

At some point, we Know one another.
Every defect, every tremor, all beauty:
and each time we reach that place,
I love you ever more.

When I am bared before you,
I am at my most vulnerable,
and thus at the peak of strength.

To be in a position of defencelessness
is the ultimate high, akin to free-fall:
when worrying can never avail,
it's easiest not to worry.

No performance anxieties,
no body issues or self-consciousness,
nothing but the Perfection of union.

In that moment of compressed eternity, I die.
When I resurrect, I am renewed by you.

 

[champagne1982]

summer2008-12

Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane Heinrich Hofman

There's a blessing that comes with pain
awash against the armour of my skin
thickened with hurt. The punishment of sin
flays the flesh until just essence remains
I know the world batters resolve in vain
where repentance stands, a bastion within
my heart and my mind this penance begin
as my morals are challenged yet again.
Prostrate in prayer for hours I've lain
praying scrub my soul with fire until raw
and bleeding I can stand here in awe
of such beauty that drives mortals insane
I cry out in fear and my tortured screams
follow my prayers in the night, through my dreams.

 

[Anschul]

2-5

Loss

She walks away, her dignity intact
And takes with her a precious piece of me.
It should end differently, but there's no act
A humble writer could invoke. I see
Her point of view, but can't know how she feels,
Don't know what made her cross this Rubicon.
There's something in her soul no one can steal;
She gives but what she can, and then moves on
To search for comfort in a different place
Where she might matter more. It makes me sad
To see her go. I think as we retrace
Our steps through different lives, we shuck the bad
Karma of earlier existences,
And turn ourselves from frogs into princes.

...and princesses

 

[champagne1982]

summer2008-done

A bitter adieu to a challenge

Failure at this
just a simple month
when I have a holiday coming
just this week

And I'd planned them, knowledge
of the challenge, welcome
and difficult

So much acrimony
on an anniversary
of watching the hardest
choices made

Would you draw the line
four inches below your shoulder?

I feel like today the choice
is mine to make
and I will do the cutting

debridement of my muse
through a holiday
from this, my perch,
a haven, and my escape
from crises of flesh.

For my health, an amputation...

 

[Tzara]

Fifteen

Traumgarten
Sie war schon Wurzel.
—Rilke

I fear too much sun. The half-night
of wistfulness better suits
my complexion. Then is the earth damp

and my fingers strong enough to dig
into clayish soil, to excavate
your deep roots, lift them loose

from where they've knotted into ground.
Only this brief twilight
lets me wrap you in the watery cotton

of my loosely woven love. For sunrise
drops me from this dream
and you lie still in his bed, blooming.


.

 

[the Snood]

1 - 24 - Dentelle de bonne fortune

Tantalise me, dancing wonder! As you
twirl and drive my eyes asunder, I catch
glimpses of a teddy, softly see-through.
I might pull you to me, gently detach

you from your garments as your fingers scratch
behind my ears, then I would fling away
your clothes, and hold your naked form, a match
for mine, save that your eyes are normally

more clear than mine, indeed they're of the Fey.
I envy underclothes, in love they lie
against your skin while hold I must at bay
my hands unless alone in lust we ply

the seas of possibility, my love,
enhancing flexibility thereof.

Revised per LadynStFreknBed:

Tantalise me, dancing wonder! As you
twirl and drive my eyes asunder, I catch
glimpses of a teddy, softly see-through.
I might pull you to me, gently detach

you from your garments as your fingers scratch
behind my ears, then I would fling away
your clothes, and hold your naked form, a match
for mine, save that your eyes inform in play,

more wise than mine, indeed they're of the Fey.
I envy underclothes, in love they lie
against your skin while hold I must at bay
my hands unless alone in lust we ply

the seas of possibility, my love,
enhancing flexibility thereof.