30 Poems in 30 Days

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 11

To Champagne1982

Dear poetess, full of grace,
while wielding words as your sword
talent you managed to horde.
Trials, I wish to erase

Encouragement delivered
upon your constructed verse
I desire to reimburse.
My care, I hope you have heard.

Your words flow with stunning ease-
skill I struggle to master.
Find peace in this disaster.
Words are strength against disease

Poetess, I offer you
prayers and praise overdue.

 

[sassynyc]

1-11

Erratica

“Fucked up is, as fucked up does”
is my mantra, the holy grail, you see.

Common folk, with common problems
are special, in their functional way

But where would I be, without
train wrecks in perpetuity?

Give me a spitfire, one drink away
from Andy Dick, high on Courtney Love

Spin that equation, with a night gone wrong
I can see the fallout, clear as day

Thunderbird swigged from a brown bag
A diaphragm nicked, by drunken claws

In nine months, and five years, or so
“Oops” will join her on the couch.

Summer homes and educations
don’t pay for themselves, you know.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-12 Focused

He sees and wants. More. His core
burns and purifies, penetrates cloth
skin, sleep, the stone rolled
in place to protect this poor
beggar broken by fever

that his one hand passes clear.
This man is serious, in spite of the smile
focusing completely, seeing no
one else, whispering and constant
only to me and my name becomes
love, preceded by 'my.'

He whispers fair warning:
he means to have me
entirely
to himself. Now I will
learn all the ways
he hears the word
yes.

 

[the Snood]

1 - 25 - What to write on a postcard

Hello from somewhere in the world-

No paeans to your quite significant loveliness, though
I've been known to close my eyes while driving that I
might glimpse your face;

no poetic attempts to waft you into my bed, though
loving the physical you is central to who I am;

nor to worm my way further into your heart, though I
seem unable to help that;

no descriptions of how I love you, even though I feel
about you as I have no other;

nothing at all, other than heartfelt thanks for how
good you are to me.

Yours,

Snood

 

[Safe_Bet]

1-1 Mean Sheets

Hold me down and do me bitch
I ain’t afraid of you
Give me the tongue lashing I deserve
Hump my juice covered face

Got a monkey on my back, fur shure
Papa knows I’m her pet
She takes what she wants… oh yeah, baby
Take more than you need

No shy bunny she
My Boi has a fist on her and ain’t afraid to use it
Wham, bam, begging don’t work,
she knows I’ll beg for the peg, if I hafta

Got bite marks on my tits like campaign battle badges
This one: bed brawl just yesterday
Oh my lawdz, that one’s from brutal hand to hand
Damn near had her, till I came

Mandyke ownz her Judy
I’m her blazing slut, even when I’m too blonde
So pound that pussy
Teach my cunt a lesson it’ll never forget

Kids calling for me
Sorry, can’t talk now lil’ ones, Daddy’s got my mouth
When they peek - giggles,
Knows it’s OK, cuz Mommy really died and went to heaven​

 

[sassynyc]

1-12

Sweet Sticky Thing link

Give me the candy jar
and I could easily succumb
to the wages of sin
by way of sugar coma

I want to cross Jordan
wearing the wryest of smiles
Caramel poured
in a banana split thong
Serve me up, Foster style
No spoon, no plate
just hot
sticky-sweet

Find me rapt
in black licorice laces
that snake their way
‘round infinity

Sync with me
into plush cups
of succulent peach
and triangle slices
of sheer tangerine

I shudder under
the butterfly flutter
of your tongue, over
suckable, sweet-sour
cherry seams

Yin and yang, I am sugar
to your rush
Intoxicated with you
high on me

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 12

True Treasure

Pink folds cradle the treasure.
Entry you would never foist.
My mind soaking in pleasure.

In slow, painstaking leisure,
your fingers trace and part moist
pink folds cradle the treasure.

“Your tongue commands swift and sure
against sensitive skin,” voiced
my mind soaking in pleasure.

Resistance to want unsure-
distrust you carefully hoist.
Pink folds cradle the treasure-
my mind soaking in pleasure.


*********
Okay, so this was going to be a villanelle, until I got stuck. I'm reworking it now.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-13

My lovers eyes are dark and hard;
he is a gentle man
but penetrating as a shard.

He fixes that which he regards
and holds it in his hand.
My lovers eyes are dark and hard

He whispers the next playing card
I'll unfold in the span.
He's penetrating as a shard.

Embraced under his chin, he'll guard
all of me he can.
My lovers eyes are dark and hard.

My cheeks became his color guard,
when kisses overran
me, penetrating as a shard.

He navigates the boulevards
of everything I am.
My lovers eyes are dark and hard
and penetrating as a shard.

 

[Tzara]

16

Breaking Out the Emergency Rations (MREs)

Roses are red,
Violets blue-hued.
Our only guy left
May be just the Snood.



I will be in the Tzara General Hospital ER trying to resuscitate my dead hard drive. If, by some odd miracle, I am successful, I may try and write something vaguely less sucky than what you see above.

Oh, and I have a New Rule to add to Tzara's Rules of Poetry Do not be afraid to be bad.

This one is serial challenge thread specific: When confronted with disaster, triteness is your friend.

All of you. Right now. Go back up your systems.

 

[ShyErraticTable]

Sixteen, right? *looks over shoulder* Sixteen?

Uh, hello.

I am here as a kind of substitute, or avatar, for Tzara, whose system big-time crashed. He kind of shoved some idea at me and said, imperiously, in that way you perhaps are all familiar with: Just make me look less stupid, fer Gawd's sake. That verse I posted isn't even clever enough to be a Pet Rock!

Which meant, since he is busily trying to repair his computer, something like Write something at least marginally better than that shit I posted earlier on the 30/30.

Earn your keep, for God's sake!

I was hurt by this, I must admit. I mean, I usually lurk in the background, whispering into his ear well-meant advice like No, dumbshit, a villanelle has nineteen lines! And you've completely fucked up the rhymes!

But, you know, I can't help but love him. He is me, after all, though not so formal.

And so I offer this as substitute for his dreadful poem today:

A Triolet That Is Not About Chess,
Though the Naïve May Think It Is

Though we make three, we mate in four.
Combinatorics say it's so.
My love is simple. I adore
the three we make. Meet we in four
distinct positions (some, hardcore)
though none yet have been filled with Whoa!
Still, we are three and meet in four.
Combinatorics make love so.
​

May all of you live long, prosper, and finish this hellish challenge.

 

[Safe_Bet]

2

Alchemy

Leaden weight of the week gone
Par-tay-ing against my will
Contrived frivolity over melancholy prospects

Tinny sound of bar music blurred by booze
Making inane chit-chat
Dressed too hot striving to be too cool

Silvery glint of interest in smoky eyes
Scenting pheromone laced perfume
Dancing erect with the desire to be prone

Golden sunlight across an unknown carpet
Cuddling in a new lover’s arms
Hoping to find the panacea for loneliness​

 

[ShyErraticTable]

17

Tzara claims to still be working on his broken computer, though it looks to me like he is playing Trivial Pursuit with Angie. Anyway, he asked me to take care of the 30/30 thing again today:

Restrained Triolet

This strip of linen, twisted, tied,
Here binds her wrists and, more, her thought
To lines she had before denied.
The grip of linen twisted, tied
To cover eyes: till now, she shied
From needs that need be shaped by knot.
Thin slip of linen—twisted, tied—
Secures her wrists, unbinds her thought.​

Yes, I know. Another triolet. Sorry. Perhaps Tzzy will be back tomorrow.

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 13

My lust ripples under your sweet caress.
Distrust refracted from sensual slopes.
I yield to you as you gently undress
a victim of historic waves of hopes.

Washed in a flow of femininity
in your hands as you quell my thirst for sex,
you remind me of lost vitality.
Walls fail. True intimacy deemed complex.

Your force alien to my perception,
having been slashed by weapons of manhood.
Your loving ways receive wet reception.
Sex is combined ecstasy as it should.

Foaming joy and frothing lust destroy drought.
Regressed when love’s denied and you walk out.

 

[sassynyc]

1-13

Undone link

Removal is an art form
with respect for skill
Regard it as Tantra
and it becomes religion

Prey on me, as if in prayer
descended on bent knees
in worship

Listen with all five ears
Pay attention, to the give
of the unmentioned
where it meets my skin

The catch and release
of breath, deep
inside me, speaks volumes
of your technique

Rough fingertips
impress soft skin,
welcome to invade
my last barrier
this nylon gate
to the Promised Land

Just the right pressure
on the small of my back
A slow slip south
lets you in

Caress your way beneath
the trim
and inhale me
like cinnamon smoke

One last tug
of ribbon and mesh
at the mercy of pearly whites
and I come undone

 

[the Snood]

1 - 26 - Pecked into a 'phone - lame but on time, darn it!

While driving home my poet hen,
I asked her how she'd spent her day.
Composing, she replied and then
she asked me to evaluate.

One piece she had, she set aside,
because I'd read it yesterday.
I asked her if she'd please abide
my whim and read it anyway.

She asked me why I wished to hear
again a piece which I had read..
“I also had sex once, my dear.”
“O.K. I love you now.” she said.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-14 Reports of Rain and Dreams of Pie

(I tried to post this yesterday but I couldn't get in to the Literotica's Discussion Board, thus it is late.)



It's raining somewhere, I hear on the report
of the waitress turned weather girl-- same
outfit just missing the name tag.
Here the cool front is moving in she coos,
massaging the weather up and pushing
its threatening clouds across
the decapitated map showing only the
abdomen of the Americas.

Weather girl's fingers massage the wind stream
as if it were the scalp of a big tipper
and when she is done with the hows of the day
her eyes offer you coffee. Her breasts offer you
pie. After all you can take the weather girl
out of the diner but . . .

 

[Safe_Bet]

3

Spoiled to Soiled

Swerving the Cayenne. Cussing traffic
Poor me
Broke a nail
Such trials I face

Leaves in the pool. Again
CNN 24/7 News
Switch to Oprah
Only have so much pity

Sorry, gave at the office. Lies
Too much selection
Wanted organic
Loathe settling for free-range

I work hard. At home
Hate the maid
Yes, scrub the sink
Just can’t get good help

Middle class cocoon. Pristine
Why don’t they get a job?
Ewwww, yuck
Go back where you came from

PTA meetings over. Starbuck’s time
You know she’s queer, right?
Turkey baster kids
Need to protect the children from unfit mothers​

 

[The_Frank_Black]

Cecilia

.......................

 

[the Snood]

1 - 27 - At the centre of things

“‘Tis better to give than to receive.”
This sentiment, though it might seem trite,
is a basic truth, not oft perceived.

Your mouth has skill I’d have not believed,
but regardless of such great delight,
‘tis better to give than to receive.

When your body cannot help but heave,
that the Goddess comes whence you’re alight,
is a basic truth, not oft perceived.

When you’re in charge, I am most alive.
I prefer however to incite.
‘Tis better to give than to receive.

Though I must insist, you needn't grieve.
That you’ll have your chance to rule the night,
is a basic truth, not oft perceived.

Perfection’s a thing we’ll both achieve;
as we each in turn direct the Rite.
“‘Tis better to give than to receive,”
is a basic truth, not oft perceived.

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

1 - 14

My Favorite Flower

Faithfully
through failed cement
a Weed
with fuchsia plume
adored flower

 

[sassynyc]

1-14

Back In The Day

We grew up together
Did you know
you were my first Krush?
I mean
we liked all the same things

In ’88, we both had
a sweet tooth for sugar Kane
and the Juice Crew,
our favorite drink

Half Steppin’ all the way
from school
to meet each other at 4:00
On the corner of 31st and McDaniels,
Uncle Ralph’s, our favorite spot

In ’89, we used to hang
with the same Buddies
and our Tribe spoke
The Native Tongues

But that was back in the day
Crushes either dissipate
or morph into full blown affairs
Today, you feel more like child’s play

The hang out spots are not the same
You’d rather chill at 106 & Park
and even that’s not where it used to be
You’ve changed, unrecognizable to me

Some of our old haunts still stand
Mic and the boys still come around
But it’s not like it was back then
when the 12” remix was our best friend

You chat a new tongue
and though I’m fluent
I have little desire to speak it

Safe to say
the us
that we were then
has outgrown the new you

 

[Tzara]

18

Galatea in Metropolis

The knife switch closes and she sparks
into the non-metallic phase
of her brief life. First,
her posture slips off its rigid bearing,
loosening her spine and hips
with the suppleness of flesh.
Her eyes go from blank to blue
and their calculation anyone can see.
Now can she mold and mesh to men
and their easy desire. She lifts
a suddenly damp palm to him,
her Maker, which he receives
in his cold and artificial one,
and starts that much, much harder task
of emulating Love.


.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

2-15

no it isn't the whole story of what's to come,
these minutes of soft mouth tongue speculations
these hours of appreciative murmurs against warm skin

there will also be life without you--that inbetween
waking, walking somnambulance in which all men
are the same in their not-you-ness

and then chime comes my happy anticipation
signing in, shining my availability until you whisper
hello and hold out your fingers also made of whispers

 

[Tzara]

19

Things We Learn from Food

Often, choice and handling reveal more
than just what flavor daiquiri to order

for her in a hotel bar. For example,
the way she eats a strawberry:

nestled in four fingertips, thrust
between her open and generous lips,

the delicate violence of her bite
as she pierces the red flesh. At last,

the joyous smile—white teeth
a little stained, as if with blood.


.

 

[Safe_Bet]

4

True Love

True love?
My boi in a dress
hating it, for me

True love?
My girls holding hands
untainted, big smiles

True love?
My lover’s touch
no reason, just cuz

True love?
My imps trying so hard
little ladies, unnatural

True love?
My eyes leaking pure joy
watching, adoring​