30 Poems in 30 Days

[4degrees]

10-21

synthetic slipknot
a noose of knowledge
a reward of shackles and
life sentence after death
steal this breath
perform mouth to mouth
on a dummy, hoping for
the best
let it rest and listen
to an irregular heart that
beats like jungle drums
beat it up and run
the shelter on a distant horizon
never nearing
a clearing, a vista
with which i peek at fleeting
flickers of forgiveness
to live this life is
a crime, go on and
bide your time until
it ticks no more and
every chance that existed
to do something different
dwindles down to zero
be your own hero.

 

[4degrees]

11-21

restless, wrestling with
a snake, a charmer, my
own intestine cinching
up inside, spontaneous
strangulation putting
on internal chokehold
and taking my breath away

 

[Remec]

4 - 3

Madly I make my way
through the narrowest
part of what was already
a tight relationship,
bogging down in the self-made
mire left behind by
deluge after deluge of
the tears I always denied
having dropped.
-----

 

[Remec]

4 -4 Thawing lawn

field of white
splashed with green
and pooled brown
-----

 

[4degrees]

12-21

scraping out a hole
in a soft warm collection
of corpuscles
like a mellon baller
i make a bed inside
the meat of mankind
and nap like an
exhausted dog.

 

[4degrees]

13-21

the thirteenth poem in round 21
falling on day 1461
the planets keep going around
the sun despite
their lineup
everything was supposed to stop then
but instead it began
everything does end
unexpected or maybe not
a sun dog, a sun spot
burnt through the very core
full of reason and sadness
fear and morass
a beam of light poked through it all
and a stellar connection grew until
it flickered out, black
like a dead terminator's red eye
in mind and under skin
no word to be spoken again
until some amnesia sets in
forgetting isn't an option.

 

[4degrees]

14-21

the poem is dead
sullen words falling like
brown leaves onto a
vacant page, holding as
much meaning as an empty well
imagination might see bats
or bones floating at the bottom
but really, there is nothing
there at all.
just nothing.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

5-1

Why not as I'm installing, why not just
write this poem? Sit down and tap out
the letters, the seraphic curves
that cup the space between you and I

for we never overlap merely glide
over one another with cushions
of air between. Surely that can fill
the time for the bars to fill

openings. Here I type the tip of a C--
the delicate stroke of your neck--
with the croak of morning, the cry
rising from my curled finger.

Here I type the closed loop of O--
the long howl of need, echoing until it
sounds like love--need and love
pursed mouths with intricate orbits.

Now the foot of the L--slim shadowed
column, its toe dug down with the
flourish of a pipe or its lip.

Next, I will hint the tail, (also the beginning,
my instep an inch from your knee). Close
how we almost connect, hanging
there convex to concave, then one turns in.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

5-2

Once there was a man who chose a wife by her
soup. He bought a new spoon for each pot

so his experience of one soup would not
corrupt his taste of another. He only took one

sip of the soup of his wife. Immediately, his throat
warmed pleasantly. It was a mild irritation.

Probably an allergy made him present
her with his only treasure: a pot.

 

[4degrees]

15-21

in another timezone,
i made it
it is still today, to me-
it doesn't end here
not until the fear
and drama of these many
waking hours fades
temporarily
when sleep comes.

 

[4degrees]

16-21

haiku place holder
lacking any poetic
ability now

maybe tomorrow
something genious will commence
instead of stark lines

 

[4degrees]

17-21

or maybe not

this journey of a thousand
turns back to back
is a mental whiplash
the neckbrace is merely
accepting grace and
believing that everything
in this moment is
exactly as it should be.

 

[4degrees]

18-21

methodical mind numbing
slow down the electric waves
hopping from synapse to synapse
while i read this synopsis
of my latest misdiagnosis
closer to neurosis
or not
my own hand beckons me
blazing a trail for my self
to follow, wishing all
the while to return
to a hollow, my fellow evil
watches as self absorbed
i wallow in pity that a
fool sees as real.

 

[4degrees]

19-21

my love appendage
a limb seperate from the rest
in physical and mental sense
a deeply spiritual evil
residing in my lower belly
growling and cringing
hungering in desperation
for the taste of angellic you.

 

[4degrees]

20-21

stitches that had held
a broken man together begin
to disintegrate with the drops
of acidic rain, falling like god's
tears over a world of seperation
and pain.

 

[4degrees]

21-21

prolithic waster of words
strewn along the countryside
leaving puddles of braindamage
and lost loves, lives
life in a snowglobe
with a plastic cemetary scene
shake it and break it
and laugh, the pieces of me
dissolve instantly.

 

[4degrees]

22-21

the father of a brown punk
beat lays down words slippery
thief skipping over the holes
in a soul like traffic stopped on
a street the form is gone it
was a hit and run it was
swept away into the stormdrain
like trash and cigarette butts

 

[4degrees]

23-21

the rattle of bare bones
my heart creeps to you
pushing the red button
pushing mortality close
craving a toxic injection
it turns me on like crazy
feeling death breathe
down my collar

 

[4degrees]

24-21

cool may winds
ruffle my stiff hairs
with those unforgettables
i'm a better man today
putting business
never to be finished away
a mental time capsuel
that will float to the surface
of the sound one day
like a jellyfish on
the sandy beach
you will take care in
stepping far around.

 

[4degrees]

25-21

cool winds may
ruffle, make me wrestle
or remember to
move along and let
this life proceed
outcome is inevitible
so let me just take
what it gives with
satisfaction, knowing
i never know what
is best for me.
trust is a must.

 

[4degrees]

26-21

tonight, let the
crooked sound of
buck bourbon's
western zombie haunt
you, while kid kid
plays jesse crow
in a place where
for one night, cowboy boots
and eyeliner are the perfect
ensemble.

 

[4degrees]

27-21

An anvil of circumstance
Falls onto these shoulders
The beautiful bruises covered
And a man is ploughed straight
Into soft ground
It's a readymade grave-
Don't bring flowers.

 

[4degrees]

28-21

exhumed by randomness
my eyes bleed backwards
my skull fills and swells
leaving a drop with every zombie step
like breadcrumbs to find the way back
arrival of the unfit
my segmented lurch looks sexy
my bony digits claw the air
you're always just out
of my reach

until this moment when
an undead fist plunges in
shattering into a chest cavity
like through a thin glass window
and now i have your heart
i press it to me, hard
feeling for the only time
it will beat next to mine.

 

[4degrees]

29-21

glows in the warmth
of a never ending sunrise
looking into life's eyes
reaching back into the bag
on my back, producing
a thank you card to god
who i sometimes choose to hear
and be directed by, in the midst of
this world's ear splitting noise..

 

[4degrees]

30-21

coming to the end again
is not the relief
it has been, in past rounds
one day of death
the next, a day of some kind
of compassion for the world
showing to all the manic nature
that makes this poet
do it
do it
keep doing it
and one day i'll do it all
again