30 Poems in 30 Days

[WickedEve]

1-1

The poem began as a stone
in my lover’s garden,
stolen from soil, softened
into a pillow. He found words

beneath sleep,
roused them on my thigh.
I longed to write them further
awake, but they buzzed drowsily,

flew as bees.
The poem is a hive
in my belly, enduring as stone,
words to dream on.

 

[Remec]

2-8 Keepsake

Discovered today,
one blackened rose
pressed between the pages
of an ordinary, if heavy,

tome; gingerly set it aside
to regard the yellowed,
rose-stained cardstock
with it, also a misplaced

remembrance--long forgotten
school dance that swirled
back again fullblown,
silver spots circling red-lit

walls amid flashing strobes
and a bass line that pulsed
with the beat of young hearts
looking for action, if not love.
----

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

2-15

Mirror Self

I wore your words-
let them define me
Dulled self-esteem sword
doesn’t help me stand.
Illusions of absence
of self. Camouflage.
Why do I allow others
to sabotage my progress
and set darkness?
Your words today
were sweet and sincere.
You said everything
I wanted to hear.
Your worlds-helium
from darkness constructed.
Self-esteem cement needed.

 

[AChild]

2-1

caution at the wall street

were are our protectors
as the money in our pockets shrink?
the faces on the bills look away

done in by greed
the fruit we had growing is hollow
as another bank bites the dust

how far will we fall?
what if China removes the net?

what most people don't know
could fill in the blackness between the
stars

how many homes will replace
christmas trees with
foreclosure signs

time to put the money
back in the mattress it's
going to be a long winter

 

[4degrees]

19-8

i dream again in color
my sleep separated
sequences of eye strokes
heart beats
cell division as a chest
rises then sinks again
my reflexive movements
and critical functions
keep functioning
even as my heart breaks

 

[Remec]

2-9 Stormfront

Dark and thick,
silently encroaching,
.....~BOOM!
-----

 

[AChild]

2-2

run on the rooftip
let go
the feeling don't come
again
like water
steeping in the stream
happening
through the spaces
too clue for between the line
trying to get back to me
and the know tree I used to
be
what am I without a word?
that part could fit between
the peanut and the shell

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

2-16

Ruin

Crumbs of neglect spice
the vast, cement floor
of the abandoned warehouse.
Boxes, used and unused,
found similar fate,
discarded,
empty,
no longer holding
the staples of existence.
No longer important.
Failure accepted.
Blame assigned.
History.

 

[4degrees]

19-9

she could never be
a substitute for you-
she is nothing like you.
maybe just the dark hair.
that's all.
but she can let my hands
roam over her, caressing,
stroking until she groans
and she is warm,
soft and sweet
she leans into me,
pushes against me
and falls asleep.
the body breathing with me
keeps the lonliness tolerable.

 

[WickedEve]

1-2 for 9/16

We razz romance,
push it into the mud.
Yet he picked a final rose of summer
and, sure enough, I pricked my cliché
on a thorn.

But it was romantic,
like the creamer heart that took shape
in my Sumatra Mandehling.
Latent beating clung to the inside

of a pink, café mug.
Tomorrow, we'll drink mud
from a jug, and tease romance
until it cries.

 

[WickedEve]

1-3

Watching Us From Across The Street


She closes her door,
a simple shutting out. We have become
the sin-element — angels from a landfill,
coffee wings, dusting her view
with used grounds.

"Wake up, Barbara!
See what's brewing."

The door is Jesus, the bible,
a shielding cross. She falls
against its strength, a virgin
of wedding night angst.

And we are mother and father memories,
caught beneath rowdy sheets
of semi-darkness.

 

[Remec]

2-10

Another crash comes
as one more berg drops
from the glacial wall into
the sea. Whether it will
simply float away to
dissolve into the ocean
waters or silently bob
along awaiting its chance
to make history, if just
briefly--is yet to be
decided.
-----

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

2-17

Fractured

Faceted allure,
distraction for sure,
keeps me looking for more.
Morph again
to curiosity’s pen.
You’re no longer my friend.
Dynamics askew
never as I knew.
Foundation fractured anew.

 

[AChild]

2-3

auto

smoke medicine
pull and twist
skin glide
a spit shine

hike to find flowers to
infuse gel

hands aren't always wet
got a
blow job method
on the tower swinging bell
clappers at the birds

forget what the motion
depicts
meta for?

deep in the jello mold
were the squirmy senses
slather

remember the times of truth
place it in an echo
let the imagination reach through
to the object of the image

loose a me arrow
as I feel her breath on my neck
her hands hoover kiss
short hairs

I want her before
she gets my attention
then begins the chase

 

[4degrees]

19-10

all through this day
not one poem came my way
pacing, shuffling feet
hands stuffed deep in pockets
waiting for the end
you'd float into my view
like an autumn leaf adrift
on a sudden breeze
and just like the crisp
cool air of changing seasons
you'd blow away
out of sight again.

 

[WickedEve]

1-4

We are coffee mosquitoes,
sucking bold roast morning
from jittery beans.

By noon,
we are spelunkers,
with caffeine bat urgency,
dampening the cave floor.

We are crashing moths
in evening,
attracted to the brew light
of "one more pot."

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

2-18

Abandon

Tangled smoke adrift
disintegrates.
Sanguine drops
of cabernet sauvignon
retained
in a stemmed, clear glass
as if on a pedestal.
Wrappers from numptious snacks
litter the empty bed.
Void attempts to relax
abandoned.

 

[Remec]

2-11 Limerick

There was a young lass from St. Lou,
who had to pick one dildo from two;
They both were quite nice,
but she asked for advice;
"Tell me, is this a Red state or Blue?"
-----


(Yeah, I dragged it from this afternoon in another thread, so sue me. hehehe)

 

[4degrees]

19-11

words, biting
greedy jaws gape
and snap the air
with you so near
the way its whispered
passion
like a ghost
who now and then appears
long enough to remind
of that pastense, past time
when every season
began and changed
with you
and some
two word line
poems

 

[AChild]

2-4

lighter

pacing round the point
of flame
dancing between the yellow red

each artist change a bend
of color

when captured by the
blood letting hours
they try to steal your spark

--------------
I only do the easy thing. Afraid because of my father's example. If I do the hard thing I will become hard. Then no one would love me. I don't want anyone to love me but I don't want hate either.

 

[WickedEve]

1-5

vivian bon vivant
committed suicide by consumption
of potted meat.

we wept,
with poached pears
and roquefort,
at a most tasteful wake.

 

[Remec]

2-12

Nervous, but
too interested to leave,
I go from an early dinner
straight into Happy Hour

hoping maybe the cheap
drinks will give me the
nerve to do more than
merely watch her dance.

She moves like nothing
and no one I had ever seen,
I sit at my booth, sipping
cosmos--that's what they
drink, isn't it?--while waiting,

waiting to watch, and see
if the smile that lit her
face yesterday was really for
me and not one of her

girlfriends. (They're so lucky.)
Mmm...maybe I'll cut back on
the drinks, my mind is open enough,
and my panties are sooo damp.
-----

 

[LadynStFreknBed]

2-19

To Misty
upon hearing of your death, 9/19/08

Sensitive nature behind giggly smile
The youngest cousin on both sides
blonde hair, blue eyes shine
a Scottish & German child
standing strong and tall
until the cancer took it all.

Your tasseled hair, a toy for kittens
Though you became a mother,
I still see you on the tire swing.
Sickness overtook your body,
but never even stained your soul.
Now, dear cousin, you are whole.

 

[4degrees]

19-12

persuede autumns intentions
pull leaves from branches
with strong thought and
nothing more
like undressing you
willing each garment to drop
a smokey and unwaivering gaze
a tongue tip flicks
the corner of a dry mouth
and a tight jaw stops me
from outright panting.

 

[WickedEve]

1-6

Lofty and wicked.
We are poised
on ready. I am aperture;
Hugo, shutter-speeds from behind.

Developed,
my hair crawls, tentacles
down my back,
in photo moonlight.