30 Poems in 30 Days

[AChild]

7-21

screaming ghost
sun pulling shadows
puppet-master

great stars fade
on mine own time
killed the clock but
left the money in the
drawer

patient pacing
peeling back each hour before
monday, cloth come off the
portrait rothko masterpiece
simple DNA

it would be a shame to blue
my work week lazing end days
it would be a shame to blue
my work week by bruising my muscle

breath creative for only
pure bliss, go through growth for self
sleep like natural people

 

[tungtied2u]

1-19

Movies

I'm going to get lost
in illusion of another's
making, mine is tired

show me danger, drama
tradgedy and joy, my life
has grown void, nothing

stirs my soul, touches
center, all is peripheral
I am a black hole

in a crowded theater
I won't be noticed, all eyes
are focused on the light ahead

 

[annaswirls]

7-8 dead man's float

maybe the flu shot
or the moon
we, undertow lonely
we, tight needle invitation to almost
stretched adhesive and another sip of
water from the tap
your cries come in jags
velcro edge scratch
we, attached to the tides
bedrest on the tip of sick

 

[champagne1982]

3-1-1

18

He sits, a beer where a text book
should be. Another rig manager threw
him away, his attitude sucks
and it's been a hundred and two days
since he's been home and the winds
sure can blow cold, way out here.

Joe said you can't keep a job
if you don't get outta bed and Dan
laughed as they rolled away
in the truck... Fucker forgets
who carried him back to the room
Monday night. So, Wednesday after-
noon he waits for the busfare
in the bank. He'll go home a while.

 

[tungtied2u]

1-20

too weary for words
brain drained, sucked
dry from hours on line
passing thoughts through
fingertips transmitting minutiae

details, details, details
layer upon layer
depiction friction
rubbing nerves raw

until eyes open
is a stretch, lids
lower on auto pilot
impossible to disengage

 

[AChild]

7-22

chatter box tried to
killer in a dream
but she is still living in
my living room burping up
my beer

 

[annaswirls]

7-9 When I sing for my supper, you skip to dessert

When I heard how you copied the Persian poet,
I copied you. When I copied you
I developed a slow leak
in my passenger's side.

We coasted along the rumble strip
selling autographs and lemon confections.

When I used the last ink and sugar
I melted the sand into sun spark prisms
that led us to our pot of gold.

When I bought back my voice
off the last barrow in a Persian market
I sang out Of Jewels and Horses!
For God, Mammon and Country!

And the poet-merchant replied
When I this, I that.
When I this, I that
and I told him a three time poet laureate
from the New World wanted to say hello,
thanks for the Samuari Song,
for all the lemon bars
carbonated fruit punch, tea.

 

[champagne1982]

3-1-2

About 3 inches of snow -

whitewashes dusty park swings
and tar stained sidewalks
preparing for green and red
puddles of reflection.

still falls to smooth each crack
and broken edge into round
appeal. A bride's bosom of rise
and dip, begs to be sullied.

all at once in a land so brown
stuns the eyes to tears. Daylight
turns shadows blue, contrasts
blurred into muted tones of winter.

reclaims landscapes painted guady
with the brush of summer, now faded.
A used canvas cleaned and ready
to display the artistry of winter.

 

[AChild]

7-23

depressed of a sudden
saw the seam in mind,
art, culture
pulled it
this attempt
to distract spiders with a
weave that lets no
faucet fly from
gossamer cocoon

it's all connected
like constellation lines
strum the chord
the heavens fall in line
luminous eggs in a row
waiting for consumption

 

[tungtied2u]

1-21

I only hear from you
at the end of the month
when bills are due

how you love me, you do
but you are confused
trying to work things through

and though the days are few
I'm always on your mind
and never far from you

my absence makes you blue
but you must think of the kids
but your heart is true

words are just words
without action behind them
in one ear then out
the other, forgotten

 

[annaswirls]

7-10 bonifire

two hours past your bedtime
two hours before mine
we snuggle warm face to face
backs cold cheeks warm
smoke in hair
sticky eyes
marshmellow fingers
too tired
to write




and something like this

 

[champagne1982]

3-1-3

The Wind Denies

The grape ivy crawls along a spear of piercing sun,
seeking warmth in winter's light
even though the moon hasn't left the sky
and the day is but a transient thing.

It's cold outside and the frost sparkles pretty
on the twigs, each leftover leaf clinging
helpless, shivering in suspended animation, as even
the wind stops when winter deepens its freeze.

I cheer on the hapless ivy tendril as it twists
through space, doomed to fall as even light
fails to support its quest for more

and the leaf on a sleeping birch, tenuous grasp
on the highest branch failing, even as the wind
denies it gentle hands to carry it to the ground.

 

[AChild]

7-24

half these words are stolen on purpose
bound paper, leather and glue
my bank to rob

of course Pierre reads poetry
picking lock
sneaking phase into cum stained sock

tip toe'n
an ice capade
the treasure to interrogation room
stand it on end
corrupt it with 1,000 geisha rubbing peacock feathers

stick it in a hole to see if it molds like cheese
magotty and sharp
or it will make a fine wine one day

put it on a alter
leave shot glasses of
bris foreskin and rice
see if zealots vibrate or cast stones

to an alley
empty pockets,
cut off it's pants
pull teeth to make up times
it made me smile, frown, think
let it walk home showing gum sockets
and ass hole

just put it in some poetry and
call it mine till pages yellow or
someone finds me out

 

[tungtied2u]

1-22

I have apologies for all
occasions, wounds I've inflicted
often in neglect,
occasionally on purpose
most times by accident

the injuries vary in size and depth
requiring variety of appliance
area of coverage
length of application,
I try to prepare

but regardless of my efforts
some wounds won't heal
fester and inflame, infected
until the pus poisons
any hope of healing

 

[annaswirls]

7-11 Who said you cannot get a quarter of a tone out of a "pianoforte"?

pieces of a collaboration​

Who said you cannot get a quarter of a tone out of a "pianoforte"?

Sondra must have been listening in,
tea cup pressed to the wall of my chest.
A tap tap tap of the conductor’s baton
and the woodwinds, reeds soaked in dry gin,
do a quick trip up the scale,
while the trombone in my hamstring pulls
a loud protest.

“Steven? Hello, join me please.”
*
This time
her rhythm came not from a conductor's baton,
but from the stack of papers she first tapped on the table,
then switched to a soft-palm guide across
the long ends of the leaves, finishing with a smack down
on the bottoms until four right angles reappeared.

I am pressed through the canal of the Birth of Cool,
cone shaped skull squeezed through the process,
washed, capped and bundled tight into a
syncopated straightjacket, or perhaps
papoose would be the better analogy,
tucked tight, safe from the flailing arms of the Moro reflex,
a french horn pulls tight sateen ribbons and it is all good.

 

[champagne1982]

3-1-4

escapism on Sunday afternoon

submersed in a shallow tub
of sensory overload
a pond lily floating
in a bath of stolen solitude
no one else can have this time

not if I don't let them

wallow in the glorious heat
lapping over breasts, twin
Mount Augustines rising
out of the sea, perfect cones
divided by a fjord snaking
through a rift valley, a scar
over the fault tenuously
holding it all together

escape to exotic climes,
with scents of jasmine
and the touch of bath
oils emulsified in waves
of this houselocked Caribbean
take me away

 

[AChild]

7-25

spilled

sauce from
drunk fuck

she was in my bed
legs open
twitching pink
I'm always up for
midnight snacks
so,
test the depth before
opening eyes

where's the condom?
as I spilled

 

[tungtied2u]

1-23

Scarecrow

He sat
a crossed legged scarecrow
thinned hair and goatee
telling tales of what he’d seen
hanging around

the scavengers
who perch awaiting opportunity
to rend our clothing
and pluck bones bare

of humanity
in the heartland, on the coasts
sleepy towns to frenetic cities
all with a common thread

the fabric
of truth and compassion
we all wear beneath our facades
worn thin by life’s friction

how to knit our spirit
to one another’s with kindness,
create a tapestry untouchable
by time and trial and terror

He sat
a crossed legged scarecrow
simple soft truths he shared
harvested on his watch

 

[annaswirls]

7-12 cheating time

one time it comes around
the soft mother breast hidden
comfort poured into a plastic cup
still longing for the softness
of milk spilling from the side of an open mouth
in times tired from chewing solid food
new feet on solid ground
hot stove and sugar from the bowl
first firefly sky lightning

it is supposed to be once around
but I cheat, cheat the progression of time
with soft blanket sleeping seeking the warmth next to me
kisses on the forehead safe purr
toes curl on the cold floor sneaking out for another
first storm honeymoon.


god this is awful, I postponed posting but humility wins, god I am sorry if you wasted time reading this

 

[champagne1982]

3-1-5

Love Poem?

Well, maybe. I could write a thousand words that say how I feel, but that is inadequate somehow.

Beginnings listed on a sheet of Egyptian cotton:

the way you draw your tongue up my spine, leaving I love you in wet calligraphy,

your eyes, the sheltered harbour of calm acceptance I see when we both take our rest beside the dock,

the storm of emotion held tightly in check as if you know that to express them aloud would put me in a thrall, so deep, that without you, I would die,

the strength of your thrusts, you know I won't shatter even though I ache after,

the maleness of you,

your scent, of course your scent, delicious musk of lust and soap,​

I could go on and on, but this is just a beginning.

 

[annaswirls]

7-13 smog colored glasses

when there are unknown
values presented, I fill them in
with what I have in my hands at the
moment, and at the moment,
I have a handful of negative integers
that soaked into the spaces
between your words.

tell me I am wrong

 

[tungtied2u]

1-24

she's moving in
so many years after
I moved out

on her,
her sister, her mother
she took it hardest

harbored resentment
rode waves of rage
or suppressed and stewed

emotions were icy for years
the thaw came one drop
at a time,

sharing turbulent
weather, surviving life's storms
being there

as i am now
when she needs me,
I'm here

 

[AChild]

7-26

crash the glass from lorca's mirror land
hand the box I'll burn it
these hands are soft yet scared
the fact I let them bleed so
reflects the grey sitting room abnormal

twice lived
in black and white
bandages
sliver smoke screens
kim Novak's glass eye
north by northwest
now thats a suit I'll wear

eye pool richocet to corner pocket
spiraling in my own juices
touch in dreams 's real to me
i wake scratching scabs under
finger nails

 

[annaswirls]

7-14

I asked my long neglected muse
"What do you want to write about today, my love?"

He blurted out,
"Spaghetti Sauce!"
and out scampered sideways
knuckles on the floor.

 

[flyguy69]

Fly 9::1 At a Loss for Words

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