30 Poems in 30 Days

[champagne1982]

November 26

Daily Thing

How can I tell you without being trite?

My words seem less than what I mean
to say I love you doesn't say enough
even though it's exactly the right thing
to say when you need to know no matter
what we have to face -- I love you

 

[AChild]

5-16

flame on good description

I have a fear of scale
qualitative status knowledge

read an article in Discovery magazine
said that poets that you "I" more
than "we" are more prone to suicide

they never got into you

how selfish

 

[champagne1982]

November 27

Toughts on being tied down

Hold me before I escape
the influence of your gravity
I'm lightened
once we've taken fill
on this our feed
of horny defiance
waved like a red flag in front
of the minotaur inside a maze
built by sending passion
spinning free into the void.

Hold tight to my soul
and add the weight of responsibility
on the edges that I may carry
part of what you're feeling
with me when I fly, my anchor
as my heart lifts from boredom
into your sphere and fills
with love that's always
lighter than nonsense
more precious than enough
and greater
much greater than us all.

 

[champagne1982]

November 28

Sweetness

Comes from sugar or lips
tastes like honey or corn
and delights no matter
how sharp it pokes
your tooth.

 

[champagne1982]

November 29

Dance

mellow tones melt through a layer
of lazy, to stir lungs to deeper
breath and heart up from the doldrums
of winter afternoon quiet

drawn up on feet that step
to music you sing for love
of life to define happiness
and how it feels to be in love

our songs in tune and pitch sweetly
hum along the goosebumped skin
of breast and scalp together
without worry of rejection

 

[wildsweetone]

1

out back in the garden
beyond the footed path
lay the corpses of snails,
silver trails washed away
with last season's windswept fury.
a few lifers remain hidden
up under ledges,
beneath rocks. yet still
they peer out, intent
on crossing Summer's shadowless cobbles

 

[champagne1982]

November 30

Un Finity

It seems unfair somehow to limit
poetry to a single time
bring it to a finite point
and release the works into merciless
views of not-so-generous public
opinion and unfounded praise
from friends who obviously
don't know the value of words
not meant for human consumption.

 

[wildsweetone]

2

it's not like you aren't up there,
wandering the sky beyond
those high clouds, lighting
the heavens with our dreams
of peace on earth, and goodwill
that we pray won't fly out the door
with those other hopes we've voiced
recently. i wonder
if you're always listening, if
you really want to hear
all the prayers that we send
constantly toward the stars
when the night reminds us
we should be on bent knees
before you. i kneel in the dark,
know you are above
and am aware i am well below.

 

[wildsweetone]

3

a whisper,
.........smile
reaching across the space
with a tender touch
.............................that kiss
a stolen sigh
.........palm-captured,
.......................................grasped
............................and yanked,
a reminder

who is master

 

[AChild]

6-1

can't quit by leaving
can't bleed by cutting

pen cut
ink tips grow as blade of grass
(throw your likes away, and spit on simile)
rolling dirty for that random word
scared

addiction deeper than the skin
i climb the hill to roll again
-----------

struck match, "have" coal written inside my left eye lid
struck match, "fun"coal written inside my right eye lid

the trick is to chance
the pain while the fire is dying
timing is everything

the trick is to realize you have a
method of fun
a beach, the push and pull of
attention and creation

fun is not being entertained
fun is interaction with the art

so see the art of everything
add your color, line, word,
implant your first impulse

when the gray day comes
and the task at hand turns
hand to lead

remember to "have"
blink
"fun"

 

[wildsweetone]

4

What will be seen...

There will be craned necks,
stiffened from searching
concrete walls, spires
that pierce the sky
and spoil the promise
that would have arrived
with the first blessing
of dawn. Birds,
perched on facades gilded
with the fake reckoning
of a city that hides
the unpleasant
under layers of dark and duty,
will sing a morning prayer,
a welcoming to a new land
bereft of the familiar.

 

[wildsweetone]

5

always i search dewdrops
draped with dawn's golden sheath,
search for the gift of life
that grows within, that glow
of the northern sky with its promise
of a day brightened with Summer's sun
and another night like the last
that drew me closer to you.

 

[wildsweetone]

6

SF v Alcatraz - wrought iron

Among the screams for release
are the wrought iron gates
painted pink and pretty
in the curves that carve
the line between the jailed
and the free.

They are oddities,
out of place pieces
that really belong on the houses
that line the streets
of San Francisco.

They are there too, in the city,
painted black
and I wonder at the quirk,
the tease, and which will stand longest
in a city to be flattened
by earthquakes.

 

[wildsweetone]

7

Nine charms

Hanging from twisted wire
coloured glass baubles dangle -
a necklace, chain laced beads
a no nonsense, no bounce
style. The only quirk, a catch
not halfway, drawn back
into a waterfall of links
holding space in each loop.
A rosary of disjointed emptiness.

 

[wildsweetone]

8

christmas tree -

look to the tree, its coloured lights
blazing as if night's stars have fallen;
the branches cradle them
and reflect the faces that search
each pinnacled scape
for some glimpse of a more bearable side. Paradise

beneath, and among the fashioned Summered mosses, lay
the dreams of children, small hopes
pinned below a tree that appears fifty feet tall. boxes
gaily wrapped and ribboned, gifts
with sharpened edges and soft, beckon
to be touched, gently shaken. Soon,

all too soon, the blessed morning
arrives and delight surpasses
yesterday's wondering. lights dim
against a backdrop of smiles and laughter.

 

[wildsweetone]

9

some days are bland
grey sky spread to the horizon
meals that don't tempt, nor
touch the sides as they're swallowed,
morose head-hanging
as if the economy sits inside, dragging
you down when all it takes
is one wrong move, or a silence
misconstrued for 'don't care'.
and then there are the others,
where one wink will set off bells,
disarm the most wary and leave them
panting, down on their knees
praying for more.

 

[wildsweetone]

10

it was just another hotel room,
dark and dingy in the middle of the day.
brown curtains hung, almost
to the edge of the window frames, romance
playing a little bit too loud
from the silver stereo in the corner. anyone
would think it was set for one night stands
single towel in the bathroom,
bibleless bedside table,
empty cupboards in the kitchen. funny
how one hopes for more.

 

[wildsweetone]

11

a saving grace

i'll pray for peace for you,
no matter that the sicknesses
are tearing your body apart,

wish for love and kindness,
for more sunrises than you can imagine,
for morning bird song and rainbows

and waterfalls. i'll wish for grace
that will carry you through, grace
that will guide you and me.
a saving grace.

 

[wildsweetone]

12

people exercise, mp3 players
glued to their ears, sweat pouring
down their bodies, unaware that the sea
no longer laps the swollen land,
that their footprints
are nonexistent on the concrete cobbles,
that my history contains them
only for a moment. too soon
they are a memory almost forgotten,
a distant diversion
nobody wants to polish.

 

[champagne1982]

Dirty Six

oh my oh my.. Carry on lol

 

[wildsweetone]

13

into the afternoon, the summer sun leans
stretching arms across the lawn
to caress the reddened rose. the moon
hangs heavy, silent against the blue,
waiting for the darkness to climb
the horizon. white tufts form up there
light, fluffy, ignorant to the tug
that time tolls. singing its soulful song,
the tui flies into the afternoon.

 

[wildsweetone]

14

i lived in the country,
a country with cows and sheep,
green grass stretching from tree line to sea
oceans swirling across black sand, or white;

i lived in the country where strangers waved
where they did good deeds, unasked
favours, where the night sky carried diamonds -
every girl's dream

and every boy held open a door,
placed a jacket over puddles,
spoke 'please' when on his knees.
i lived in the country. lived away too.

 

[wildsweetone]

15

i run them through my fingers, stones
cold and smooth to the touch, as if in some way
they can reassure me. a rosary could be chanted
in the space between each, a moon rise
welcomed by photographers, a dawn
promising the best of days - all
these things lift my eyes
to where i believe you settle. not everyone
knows how to see you. not everyone looks.

 

[wildsweetone]

16

they want to rush,
to thread and weave into the gaps
between metal that is strung out
like a mix match of coloured beads
wrapped around a lean neck,
as if all that matters is the race.

arriving doesn't carry the sparkle it did
in youth. i hold back, content
for the late comers to catch up,
to knot and loop and create
multiple strands of mayhem ahead.

i am in no rush and watch
as they link up before me, struck
by the same shard of sunlight
and staged motion that strings them
into place.

 

[wildsweetone]

17

cloud image

no words can describe your image,
how you are stretched across the blue
innocence on sadness, a glorification
of all that speaks, a painting of all that is silent.
clouded thoughts gather, windswept whispers
wallowing in Summer's winds, waiting
for the next dawn.