30 Poems in 30 Days

[alphe1]

*cough*
so uhm...
if I drop out of the 30 poems in 30 days challenge and come back to start again how does the numbering thing work?? I don't quite understand I think with my last try I stopped at 2 (sad yes)



anyways
here's to a fresh start...or to pick up where I left off
I'll post the numbers once I understand how the system works



Luminous clouds pushed down from heaven
touching lightly on my face leaving its kiss.
This fog coats a cloak over the midnight air
cooling my throat with a sticking thickness.
I push through its heavy face anxious for home.
Can I trust my directionless sense to get me there?
Fear builds as ghostly echoes dull in soft vapour.
Everything in front of me lends way to nothing in sight.

Eerie blanket tucking in Mother earth
gives an unsettling stillness to breed nightmares
of reality unseen in its lucid reflection and diffused particles
which my burning cig is unable to calm - it’s smoke blending into it.
Approaching the roses whos scent lines the way to my door,
relief is mixed in the air of evening’s creation that still surrounds me.

 

[strangedaze]

1-2

just wondering
what you like
Soft touch
romance
Fingertips stroking
A nibble
A lick
A taste
Perhaps a firm hand
Holding
Squeezing
Pulling you near
Arms enveloping
Clothes ripping
Pushing you down
on your knees
Hands entwined
in your hair
Guiding
Perhaps imagination
eyes closed
what images
make you wet
being taken
being wanton
exposing
being exposed
vulnerable
silk ties
salty taste
moans
pleasure
abandon
pushing
pressure
surging
thrusting
groans
animalistic
instinctual
glorious
fucking
sucking
heated
tingling
electric
explosion
arousal
tempation
possessing
playful
teasing
wanting
wondering
contemplating
self stimulating
imagining
just curious
what you like

 

[AChild]

4-4

passing under hot trees

ray,
blind man cool
whistling don't kill the messenger
swinging sweet cane
that when pushed against
the grain cuts the lips

oh yeah I do try to kiss
a late summer's day

sleeping in my car
shade helps
not to over cook the metal

webs are built between my lashes
and bees lose points in my petal skin
yellow brown the changing of the season

my hair flicks leaves
under shade gods
baptized in the last dew

leaving particles of the temple
for girls I like to fish out later

 

[Angeline]

2-11

It's just a placeholder
a decoration like a napkin ring
to wrap around some words
it's just a tiny thing without
a bite of substance.
Poor old poem that gums
its lines to mush and now
I blush to tell I'm writing
with my brain tied behind
my back, watching tv even.

I don't want to hear your flack
nothing but some politics
or jazz and then to bed. No trouble
for my tired head but just one
night without much
of a write.

 

[alphe1]

1-2 (for now)

Weight of the world
Gravities desire
Pulls everything in
It’s arms from the fire.
Protects all that's here
With law binding hold.
This distance to center
Through dirt to unfold.
My feet take for granted
The gift holding down
That spans all the heavens.
This force…can’t be found? For
there it is all around the surround.

 

[hmmnmm]

1-21

Came a thought in the wee hours dawn
As per par the source was undisclosed
Began as What If, grew to what if
It Was. It pertained to women. Lies
believed these millennia, a lie
true, a lie best to keep alive. The lie
that women are the weaker sex.

Only one mere sober perusal
tells the truth, reveals the lie. Yet, may
mankind present breath, sigh relief
someone knew the truth: foresaw fates. Brains
aghast, understood this truth, for heaven’s
sake, must never see light. Fine fantasy
say? Fine fantasy indeed. and short-lived.
for, we’d forthwith learn just who the real
beasts are, spend nights chained, we could touch no
guitar neck, nor view outer worlds again.

 

[AChild]

4-5

"You bet that ass that the 4-5
will cook."

memories door
open with word keys
blast a new metaphor
down the hallways of sleep

watching "Mr. Deeds goes
to Town" they mention babies
and I'm back in the sepia tone
pixelated

over the sink
cut my baby out too soon
too soon

CPR with the help of a fountain head
trying to get the pages to breath

 

[alphe1]

1-3
speaking, saying everything
with these simple shapes
scribbling of ink
divided in Babylon
together in solitude
they form a connection
endless possibilities
but can they move your lips?

 

[AChild]

4-6

don't mistake sweetness for flavor

sweetness
in her eye a question
as the element
raises blood
teeth go screaming

flavor
parts her skirt
black magic fingers
flutter
light as a feather
tight as a black coal pot
---------
Where's wisdom
gallop on the train
taking lessons from
the night spot sucking
darkness through her spores

I get weary

the beat on tracks
the rocking prose
I just want to be there
and tell great story of my
wounds

 

[hmmnmm]

1-22

Dread is shadow, shadows
are phantoms, unreal true
without space, underworld
belligerents shove, spook
shaded skittish colors
who run back together

 

[alphe1]

1-4

I know these ropes
became a fray
When worlds collide
how colours grey
So long ago
I traced the line
a tug of war
to make you mine.

If only I’d have shown you then
what I would do
how I could bend…
Refine myself to purity
so you would always be proud of me.

I cut this cord
a fray of myself
before it could reach you
unravel your wealth.

With spirits in hand
I sit and I stare
Ropes on the ground
like so many hairs.

To put back together
Intertwining the rift
could take me forever
to tie up this gift…
arriving so late will you hasten to see
you’re worth every moment
my sweet misery.

 

[AChild]

4-7

Power pump
ejaculate
fear the surge
my window to the
world keeps blinking
out
--------------
Serum

can't control the air
spin
pushing out the old season
making leaf cocktails
blowing my little town out
of the parking lot

 

[hmmnmm]

1-23

Neediness kept awake
to hunt private sector
servitude countywide.

Distracted prey who doze
river eddy, becalm,
delicatessen spree.

 

[alphe1]

1-5

Tell me of what I’m seeking
Will I find if on my knees?
Life’s twisted such a maze-
An insane mystery.
Is it madness? Something sacred?
Could it lead where I’m afraid?
You know of where I’m speaking?
Have I been brought to decay?
Is there truth that I can trust?
Or bones for threading back to dust?
Do I really have a purpose today?
Or is this just a silly game?
Simple words for simple answers
Don’t think about my pain.
I’ll let you guide me if you’ll let me-
Your memory I’ll keep the same.
Can’t bestow you gold or silver
Or things of worth sublime.
But maybe one day I can show you
Your gift was not a waste of time.

 

[AChild]

4-8

"the pen had a meter spray."

cut my nails short to
feel that pain snake
on the keys

my fingers are too fat when
I play the poet, just right
when I play the lover
------------
hallway wicker
flame ash written
teacher proctor's
life

between tests
----------
Smith-Corona
Sterling by my bedside
a bad ass guitar
begging to be made a
song
the first story cracks
dust on every hammer
---------
hate a pen I can take
apart, I always lose the spring
people give me ink wells

if I drew water from them
would they drink?

high against the smell
and perfect black
with just a bend of glare

 

[hmmnmm]

1-24

Heartbeat hatcheted from a
hickory
stump, breezes sometimes
vacuum,
the sweeper never does.

Forest floor lasagna layers
slow bake,
stag
beetles stir up
vittles.

Uncle took the heartbeats.
Carves them.
Flea market goers
might buy one or two.

 

[alphe1]

1-6

Thanksgiving

Life’s small treasures, too many to measure
Like diamonds and stars shining on past forever
A little hand my fingers touch
Soft voice that says “I love you much”
The grace of God, the gift of time
Dinner with a glass of wine
Suns warm rays upon my back
The way you always forgive my attack
For moonlit walks, holding hand in hand
For silence and noise and friends that understand
And men with their swords who fight the fine fight
Paper and ink and oil for the light
Laughter that’s become so rare
Linen that lines my skin so bare
Prayers that send a butterfly kiss
I know there’s something I’ve surely missed
For fairy tails and picture books
And mothers reassuring looks
Skin on skin, the smell of your hair
A wrestling match in our underwear
A loving look, a caring face
Warmth pouring out of the fireplace
Gardens and seasons that water with life
To demons that left and give me no strife
For tricks and treats and gifts Christmas night
The present for me that you picked out just right
Roof over my head and shoes on my feet
A well laid out table with turkey to eat!

 

[AChild]

4-9

freedom from change is the death of interest

no longer dreaming, a wake, my death
feel the change like smoke in gentile wind
binding spirals, enjoying new contrasts

those who fear the buckling of the world
don't know themselves

those who look forward to the knocking of the
waves put their faith in fiery spots in dark skies

who has the truth? who is more better in
the moment?

fear breeds caution
wishing brings illusion

hands of time push on our backs
its all blood, aiming to hurt and
scale mortality

here's a hook
each time we pass a choice
pick a vein

 

[hmmnmm]

1-25

Paired crunches smell of kiwi black
march in civilian dress,
ends dig, neighbors crowded, forced
to rub shoulders and quartzite cheek

desperate gills blow puffy
minnow proof of algae gorges.
A bluish looming cloud pauses
poised. Easy choice, lightning lunch

 

[alphe1]

1-7

sweet little red
riding hood
strutting down
the soporific quiet
corridors
of the forest
with crumb making
cookies
chocolate chip I think
for Grandma to
sink
her fang riddled dentures
into

 

[AChild]

4-10

flow revolver

as dreams may chase the sky
or prime reality
don't contrast to pure

be the tipping point
of the first emotions felt
with a smile

not a show of teeth but
a smile that pulls lip tips
to eye sliced by lid to a
skinny moon

I break my shoulders on a
boulder
coming
down the cascade
of life
the blood doesn't taint the
water it just pumps with my
iron
lips and teeth red

 

[AChild]

4-10b

the bukowski method

watermelon build
dress
technicolor patters of
magnified seeds
her hair has black roots
that fade clear to the
purple tips

the feeling from her eyes
is that she would like to smile

I could picture making her
tremble as I dwell - a samba sweat song
into her points of
pleasure

the only problem is trying
to figure out how old she is
with out asking for ID?

 

[hmmnmm]

1-26

tripwire briar
coils, woodsy
county line marker
a trespasser
thought it typical
honeymoon shine

the trespasser
tripped, briars ripped
his pants; burst a sack,
granola flew
four directions

racket sore disturbed
a porcupine napping
in a hollowed oak.

 

[hmmnmm]

1-27

skinny tentacles
from a flange
purloined
a mint cornet
was the culprit

but the player
grappling copper valves,
mistook he’d finish
his solo notes
before runaway mayhem
saturated nuptial isles

 

[alphe1]

1-8

Pop always told me
greens put on
chest hair...
didn't he notice
I was growing a pair?

can't help how these genes fit.
bitter with my
area
from the second
I sucked tit.

OK
Alright
I'll eat it
no more hissy fit.