30 Poems in 30 Days

[vampiredust]

2

The Shelter

Clouds boil above our heads,
chugging before they burst
and release handfuls of thunder,
the tin roof buckling
as electric horses rush along

the grooves. There is no pain
when it falls, building a shroud
with our bodies, only whiteness
and the release of atmosphere.
Darkness slowly starts sucking

itself out of the void, exposing
the wreckage: a pair of wire frame
angels still crackling with the last
of the electrons still on their bones,
clutching onto the last of the beams -

a spear waiting to plunge through
the chest.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-1-17

Demi-Gods (From The Loins Of Adam)

There must be faith to accept abundant
sensation as affirmation of awareness.
How else to take in stride the wayward
strikes of luck and fortune? Faith hovers
over existence -- to starve if we don't reap
what's sown, to thirst if we neglect the well,
to be alone if we don't seek company. Faith
comes with experience, a lesson learned
rather than of rote, a surety resting in sight
of the results of the least of our actions.
Is it faith when we sleep in certainty
of sunrise or is it arrogance that we have
confirmed Earth's spin through science?
I don't have an answer, but I know truth.

 

[Sara Crewe]

5-17

......

 

[Liar]

7:6

to the jury, I'm gonna face a cluster blast
standing tall, keep my head on
under camouflage, my chameleon cape
projecting cool as rock and smooth
as science to equations
for a culture shock

with a phaser and a taser gun
you cut the razor already run
six rounds around your head around
your guilt a crown of throrn, cutting wresh
warm wounds but well worn
oh so well worn

 

[Lauren Hynde]

1:15

Found Poetry
in Richard Nixon's 23.Sep.1952 speech


that's why i'm here
and there's no secret about it

i have a theory

i just don't believe in it

and i think that you will agree with me.

 

[ShyErraticTable]

18

Spill

A sea
is this wide field
of grass. The wind's caress
forms waves small mammals swim. Some drown,
owl slick.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-1-18

Totentanz

Oh Jolly Roger, a sailor once, famed upon the Main,
you walk the boards and flash your ugly grimace of black pain
and set us drift in a cypress boat with sails of rough cotton
and clutching wind with bony fingers and memories all forgotten.

Come celebrate la danse macabre. In suits of gabardine and silk,
the pantless dead, we mourn the solace of mother's arms, her milk
a fantasy's memory of taste and scent traced faint upon our face,
dimpled, chubby knuckles flexed against nurture's loving grace.

Arms flailed akimbo as we kept moving along that willow wisp's way
never to fall off the path as the wicked charm pushed us to sway
towards the shore of a lake, dark as the void we're taught to fear
and yet we pranced the skeleton's dance as the ferryman drew near.

Sorrow waits those who fight the surge of waves toward Sheol's beach,
in death, let go your grasp on love as dreams and life float out of reach.

 

[vampiredust]

3

Letters carry emotion
in transit, occasionally
getting lost and leaving
their owners in a state
of numbness,

the way a sleepwalker
has a map of the house
in his or her head
but chooses to wander
off whenever it changes

or becomes lost

 

[Sara Crewe]

5-18

.......

 

[Lauren Hynde]

1:16

Found Poetry
in Ronald Reagan's 08.Mar.1983 speech


we should isolate ourselves
abandon our belief
refuse to see

we should accept
compromise
be made

zen out

 

[Liar]

7:7

Contemplating Tao in a Prezzo Brew

pour
stir
leave alone for six minutes

all of this is
as it should be
and you will only enjoy
the fruit of your patience
if you stop calling it fruit
and stop calling it patience

when it's
niether of those

 

[champagne1982]

2007-1-19

To Be Taken With Coffee

I open my mouth and you serve me
a taste of exotic, wrapped inside
a sprinkle of bitter umber
and sugared marzipan blossoms.
Melting truffled delights
over tastebuds, jaded by too much
elegance and pretense. The will
to savour every nuance and suggestion
had been soaked out of this palate
until you came along and taught
me the art of flavour once again.

 

[Sara Crewe]

5-19

............

 

[ShyErraticTable]

19

Desperately, as the Clock Ticks Toward Midnight,
the Poet Prays to Venus Felix for the Inspiration
to Bang Out a Form Poem on the Nature of Love—
However, to His Misfortune and Embarrassment,
Venus Cloacina Hears His Plea Instead

If there is no art in the bark of a cow,
in the soft lowing coo of a ruminant,
when I fall in love I so should disavow
any brains, 'cause I always get fooled again.

I'm not artist, nor lover, nor brainy—and now
my poor head is a mush of con·foo·sian.
I sit dopey in corner and study my tao,
and forget what this means: homoousian.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

1:17

The oracles promise
even on rainy days
all the truth
you deserve
at 8 p.m. from
people secure and well
dressed smiling before
the wondrous hecatomb
of dolphins slaughtered
by the thoughts of
generals and tractors.

Don't turn away your
eyes from this screen
of sexes and tribunals.
You'll die in your anger.

 

[vampiredust]

4

Atoll

We watch waves
sleepwalk on the ocean
as the boat slowly
approaches the atoll,

a line of broken finger
bones floating on a thick
blue soup. There are things
we are supposed to see:

turtles, manta rays,
dolphins. All in the vicinity
of this forgotten finger
and a small bunch

of cartographers
measuring its existence
in numbers meaningless
to anybody but us

and god.
And then, when we finally
arrive, it decides to sleep,
an emperor waking
when the world is blind.

 

[4degrees]

7-1

may i find solace in
a grilled cheese that
someone else prepares;
and satisfaction in beings
standard instead of gold
blessed are we who
have all of our fingers
and a normal sized tongue-
internet access and a hat.

what?

 

[Liar]

7:8

when january
was fall gray
and rust brown

the asphalt serpent
was well camouflaged

but unable
to hush the rush
of passing tires

since the snow fell,
I can't hear the highway

but see it

 

[champagne1982]

2007-1-20

Years And Years

I wish I knew how long forever
takes, since I'd like to spend
my lifetime learning the infinite
ways we touch each others always.

I imagine my forever is without end.
You see, I can't picture my life
any other way, without these powerful
forever lessons to teach, to learn.

If I only knew how long always
will be, I'll be happy knowing
I'll live as long as our forever.

 

[ShyErraticTable]

20

& Politics & Sway, Of

Limp, sequestered, amygdalic, I trusted your leonine shape
to guide my spirit onto a libidinous freeway.

I remember nothing more than Dr. Reich moaning.
He had been beaten the night before and his orgone was dull and blue.

And then the fire took me as a telegraph talks to God—
quantized, boost and drop. I sent photons to my friends.

In that late November, Forever became the nightspot of choice
and many of the cognoscenti delivered rabbits on its marble floors.

There are four things to remember about love, but I have suffered
several concussions and only recall: The moon is always green and full.

You are never up for election in the fetish of my fiefdom. The king
is always in residence and light smears reasoning like ground raisins.

Smoke. There always is smoke with tires. Ineluctable.
There is, however, always cause for salmon, upstream, ungelded. Milt.

 

[Sara Crewe]

5-20

..............

 

[Sara Crewe]

5-21

..........

 

[vampiredust]

5

Thoughts On A Journey

Car dies. Father flips open
the bonnet, releasing its steamy
breath. We watch waves
chase blackbirds migrating
to hills above coal cliffs,
navigating with only the sighs.

There are no lights on the road
ahead, no markers to tell me
that I am at point X
and we need to be at point Y
I want to enter the dark
and feel my way with sound:

listening to foxes rustling,
wind hissing, coldness laughing,
my father weeping.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-1-21

The Harvester

Out to glean in the heat
of noon. Your song
shall bless a generous
lord who leaves
the seeds behind.
Flail the stalks
that lie on the floor.
Thresh in rythmic
pounding. Goad the ox
round and round
then lift the wheat
up off the ground
and winnow.
Sweat off your brow
salting the daily bread.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

1:18

Not even birds sing anymore
by afternoon's high tide.
Grazing these sands
only silence burns.