30 Poems in 30 Days

[AChild]

12-23

can only use pieces of my mind

out of known
comes the strange
crawling mucus up
the drain into the light
longing to be,

some people see
the slug baby
and scream, they
claim it is a waste of
time

that is not our concern
worth is in the eye of the beholder
this bathroom horror
a green grey smudge
on the reflecting tile
it's a fun house now
with a throat bugger as the star

 

[AChild]

12-23

Sticky fingers

a thief of recent poetry
the end is near,
i fell it in the darkness
of the agitated speech
no promises to convey
new combinations
long for a calling
that will put my fingers
on the keys

what foul music
do I make?
sniffing the remains of my
own sticky fingers
can I give in to the love
of the things I created
and
just be that needle
skipping on the record?

 

[AChild]

12-24

She said she knew
the truth about me
but started to snore
as I rubbed her sides

 

[AChild]

12-25

Afraid to go all in

its taping on the sense
trampoline
warble some reaction
impulse river
crying, let me roar
afraid, holding back
wary

getting swept up
in the storm
water body broke in pieces
clashing with the earth in spurts
over jumping expectation
righteous pure
its all bitter taste, copper and mud

all cause I can see
a father
who drew blood
and killed kinship
with the same flood

 

[AChild]

12-26

poor

oh the themes return
around the forest spotting
patches and fire hazards
vowing the same
precaution as
I go around and around and around

each day the same depictions
bring about a surprise
in perception
unrich in the variety of
my nature
I fall in love constantly
with the same lips

--------
grabbing the carpet

wonder not a star
far from home
slipping up the shooting
not the end trail but the
expectation before the
rock or light or fire
touch
the pattern
a few feet above the hair
grasp a dream
let it make you dance

 

[AChild]

12-26

Careless with a Care

behold my folly
I make little suns
so close to me in passion that they blind
look around and shift the focus
importance narrows vision
the world dark in peripheral
pulsing worm streaks of light
peephole to real

cause that's all a dream is
that's all your heart is
until you find a way to
outlet the blood

until then you can only feel it
but won't know how well
it reflects the world until it pools
or (it pains me to say)
how pretty it is

I give chase to goal
knocking tethers of
commitment askew
shrugging worlds of obligation
ripping cloths of friendship
tearing roots of family
melting chain of love

love

I forget the word in my solitude
I exchange it with the spirit of the goal
something hard won, if at all
taking time and paying only
in the addiction to the idea

love is not a goal
a destination
or a mark of status
it is not a currency for trade

love pays off
it gives for the sake of its feeling
in forgetting
promises go broke
calls go unanswered
beds go cold

then I am defeated
in the quest for far off stars
forgotten what fuels the journey

 

[AChild]

13-2

it suddenly feels like the rehersal of the theory. Not the main vein by any means but a cooked over meat sampled by many and reported on the coordinates. The content of the idea only grows in reflecting mirrors. The effect gets weaker every generation. I often want to smoke, just to watch my breath curl. Smoking is always followed by a consequence or a mindset. I don't want those hang ups. I want the impression of fire crowning.

---------
Warming

skin job
rub away the
hard emotion
deal with the weight
of frustration
in imobiliarity

we strive to change the world
in clips of paper
in bits of data in
the changed eye of the beholder
bent to lean learned
proactive in the idea of better

heavy hands
protect the flesh
the masterbation
never comes more
polished

 

[AChild]

13-3

ideals warmed over

getting suspicious of the dream
chains around my mind
change inside
the variables
expand

flattening in sort of pattern
who's will at work
what mistress
the key
missing

Houdini around the problem
under the skin
peeling back
and easy
solution

alarms call me back
but break the story
head in pillow
a ticket
the end
is never
happy

 

[AChild]

13-4

I work too fast for typos

o's slow down the process
of creativity but
if communication is the key
then I have to work slowly

 

[AChild]

13-5 (server down)

in everything I am dirty

The wisdom not taken
is a slower soul
eyes read fast
fingers rub keys hard
in every caprice I am
a speed demon
eating up the road
causing accidents
killing animals
still in the air or bush

stir knowledge
sticky spoon
turning for the beer sip
salt pinch
feeding fire, air and flesh
till the smoke is a muse-familiar
dirty every dish to
describe joy to a taste bud
the kitchen is a war zone
battle weary
posing certain scars
as garnish

make a dish but
it

 

[AChild]

13-5

passed around the clock

tripping off the seconds
longing to be first
can't see the irony
falling into the future
head over heel
expectation peach flesh
turning jelly under the skin

at the desk
a boat wheel is
the ornamental clock
the batteries are run down
all the words fell
perfectly timed

 

[AChild]

13-6

inverted ohmn

shatter spots
the points of vision
the frames of mind
away away go out!
and be some sort of
subtle mischief
moving keys and
locking doors

a self inspired
the muse of invert is
masturbation
private commentary on the estate of beauty
closed in focus
sigular in task
not open to the fcuk

the vision fully
looking on the library
feelings flow through pages
the affect is velvet upon an essential dispotion
where's my magic?
forms taken make shadow
from all that burns for three
blackness vents a symbol
endless in the eye
rippling in pools of perception
kissing mirrors, bridging independent bodies
pulling shapes
umbra cracking to break cover and take flight
flocking different patterns with changes in the lexicon
and when one poet does a wave maneuver
we are all due to dance
reflecting ability granted through new idea

"Gratuitous aint he?"

 

[AChild]

13-7

heavy rain

loose pockets change
the tracks of invisible ants
drip from tree leaves
Christmas party
stuck on the freeway pool
some unlucky men are called
to let the water out

neon truck opening the drain

 

[AChild]

13-8

last night she had on make up and high heels

she was stripping
as I asked for a word
a moment without her
as the focus

that killed the tease
she fell asleep on the couch
braless in her black pantyhose

this morning
I kissed her chin
and made fun
of the way she passed out

she was so mad
she didn't speak to me
she waited until I was fully dressed
before she called me back to bed

I kissed through her panties
I pushed and pulled the button
I let her scent my face
before I pressed her thighs up

she quivered and told me
how naughty I was for being
late for work

 

[AChild]

13-9

long ways home

to see the movement
of the furniture
our lives the work of
play bbrilliance
marking boxes
making sure they correspond
size only changes while
the content remains stationary

 

[AChild]

13-10

waking one day

to better dreams
not just the money
but the signature
to cash the check

don't know where
it means to be loyal
or how many people
I have to work harder
when attempting to please
-----------
bloody knuckles

scraped the wall
on the second floor
juggling a box
the skin missing makes
the joint a mouth
I feel more every time
bending breaks the scab

 

[AChild]

13-11

season

magnets in the cold
people gather in the crowd
over food, religion, and tradition
the reasons don't need a name

 

[AChild]

13-12

forgetting how to have fun
forgetting how to hold funds

in my mind I'm useless
I talk to everyone like it's a job
quality is judged by output

gaps in conversations make me
anxious for review

my charm then
is just an anxiety side effect.
--------

 

[AChild]

only been a day if
i fell asleep.

life at the coke party
I'm just a window shopper
I'm in the pane
looking for a looking glass
big enough for my baggage.

slipping off a line
thinny women
leak noses when
I make them laugh
as as the mucus flies
I find something to smile about

 

[AChild]

13-13

The poem is just the misprint

the smudge on the snail shell
that finds its way to finger
what justice I might have had
was removed by that red ghost

a long beard
draped across my skin
in the days before glass
the spice of me still
open to the imprint of a dust devil
and suddenly the fibers change
from dust to scalpels
digging for the organs
transplanting a blood for the spirit
not bound by material worship
but set on pause for
a song or pratfall or glimpse of panties

besides missing a moment of grace
there is no shame

 

[AChild]

14-1

practice
that's what I was always told
lately I can't knock 30 out of the park
guess I'll have to keep trying

 

[AChild]

14-2

zero hour

wrapping gifts
sleep bags under my eye
wonder if Rudolph ever
had a night like this
Christmas in a bag
no lights, no tree
just me and my baby
drinking in the year
breezing through relatives
spreading cheer

I hope everyone has one night
like this a year.

 

[AChild]

14-3

any length
blanking for success
stalling without commercials

 

[Angelscuck]

Here I sit all broken-hearted
paid my quarter and only farted

<Licking finger> Chalk me up for one!

Here I sit, broken-hearted, ran five blockes and only farted.
Sitting here is silent bliss, listening to the trickling piss,
Now and then a fart is heard, sounding out a stubborn turd.

 

[AChild]

14-2

Haunted By The White Rabbits

I'm Late And My Keyboard Is Sticcy
The Almate Joystick Is A Thousand
Buttn Combination