30 Poems in 30 Days

[wildsweetone]

25

seeing as how i did this, this morning...

 

[vampiredust]

24

Zion Park

Got a JPEG of Zion
this morning, each figure
on the canyon drawn
by egg yolks fossilised
over time. More eggs,
more eggs, they cry,
letting the runny yellow
form new bodies
on the canyon sides.
I wonder why I have never
seen any scrambled.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-2-7

intercellular conversation

there's the burr of digital stimulation
electronic current manipulation sending
signals that beg for an answer

stop and ponder the present
situation of the condition
of my infatuation with you

pick up the bundled instrumentation
and talk to me, grant an indication
that I've gotten through at last

and when you do, there's a celebration
of our conjugation at the aggregation
of your emotions with mine
______________________

At least I still have 12 hours or so to come up with something else... (but I'll put this here, just in case.)

 

[darkerdreamer]

3-26

an investigation of my pocket
turns up sixty-seven cents,
a smashed pack of Camel's, nearly empty,
a train transfer ticket, expired,
and enough lint for a new sweater.
but still,
no piece of lined paper with those seven magical digits.

 

[loserstyx]

4-2

Fated Against thy Nature
The solitary man
Seeks only when sought.
He is content with himself.
Where others search
He stands, rooted in self-confinement.
His eyes to a sky of imaginable colors.
Watching the others scurry about;
Moving so fast to gain so much as a grain of sand.

Then with the call of his name
He scampers off into that chromatic expanse

 

[4degrees]

10-23

don't you know?

its beyond any six second
rush, i'm rushing with
muthafuckin niagra falls
on the brain
in my veins
with every breath i say
again. passion in another
thread, but its all the same
its more of those things
that i cannot refrain
so shut your eyes if
you can't bear to hear
more of the same
lovesick shit
cause that, and the
constant dreamfuck you've
planted within are all
i care to think of
i can live without all else
everything as long as you
keep feeding me your
everything.

 

[wildsweetone]

26

I haven't written anything today.
I was too busy living the remnants of summer instead
walking among dried grassed fields,
smelling the swollen river,
hearing fat bull frogs protesting
at being woken from their mid afternoon nap.

The fresh air gave me
a need to lay with back against soil,
a need to feel the imprints of yesterday's farmer
as he toiled the land,
checked stock
and prayed the rain would hold off
just long enough to get one more sweep
of hay from the fields.

It wasn't until I returned home
that writing came to mind
and so I sat with pen on paper,
drew paddocks and cows
and a lost Massey Ferguson
sitting alone down by the river.

Words seem to be failing me, today.

 

[AChild]

2-3

jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

orchestrate devil
curls licking fat
and flying high

flow is self less
offer flesh to be
burned

morse fat lip lines
decorate arms
clothes of smoke

tribe of grill

 

[vampiredust]

7-25

Dye

After building a river
along a curvature of scalp,
Mother releases rafts
of mahogany. Globules
traverse 30 second rapids,
following a traditional
route to the ceramic New
World below. Microscopic
navigators crouch and bend
before tumbling. Some rafts
stay, each wood beam erasing
tilled fields of black and grey.
There is never enough colour
to go around. Exposed areas
fester. Weeds creep into ears
at night. I hear their whispers
in the day, calling my name.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-2-8

Blocked

You've found me in what I like
to call my Early Bitch and Moan
Period. Early because if I go
on too long about it, it's certain

this will turn into something longer;
become Late Flay and Self-
Mutilation Era. That sounds
disgusting, nevermind how painful

it will turn out to be. I can only
wish that this time will end
before I discover my Disturbed
Leading to Dementia Age.

 

[4degrees]

10-24

residual words remain
and slowly leak out
of an indiscrete love wound
the one that fits you
and not another soul
conformed and reformed
time after cum-drenched time
collective fluids bottled
with a triple x lable
hold the skull and crossbones,
its godfuck nectar
its mental and beyond
i listen to MJ, and still
you love me
stroking my strong points
stoking my passion, burning
at four thousand degrees
i will edit and co-author
the ultimate book
only meant for two
pairs of eyes
and this pair will read
it over again, until the
smudged old pages
fall apart with my touch, the
oils from my fingertips eating
the paper like an acid,
but those words
night after night of...
are engraved deep
under my skin.

 

[darkerdreamer]

3-27

blood carries beyond state-lines
and national borders.
i am always ten digits away
if you need me.

 

[wildsweetone]

27

When Sicily is hung

Sicily will hang on my wall,
a decorative plate, dangling
from a thin copper wire.
Blue and yellow flowers
will strain towards the sunlit window.

The wall will recede
leaving only the delicate petals
for spiders to hang their silken scarves.

 

[AChild]

2-4

Choppy
the mad man monk
plays on

adjusting rings
hands crossed like
dead before the dawn

after his solo
he circles others and
licks at the escaping
notes, dancing

-------------------

11:00 pm and all's well
the MAN is waiting at the
post office
counting coup
making sure his piggies
add up the right amount
of rib bones

glass shards in my
foot have me limping
toward the mail box

I trip over a bum
him with bottle
and me with taxes
we both say, "You don't know how good you got it."

 

[loserstyx]

4-3

Sneezing: The Anti-poetic
I had a poem
Lines in columns and rows
Flowery diction
Inspired imagery

And then I sneezed
So here you go

 

[vampiredust]

6-26

Bull

Yesterday, I saw a bull
pretending to be blind
outside Kensington High
Street tube station.

Its eyes were rolled
back, but you could still
see the vessels, its iris
tucked neatly under a

fold of skin like a planet
hidden in the shadow
of the sun. It was playing
the accordion (I'm not

sure what tune exactly)
and the sign in front
of its busker's hat simply
said 'escapee, need asylum'

I thought I caught a glimpse
of a man I once knew inside.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-2-9

One Poet's Perspective

I've been thinking on how
tragedies must twist
the psyche of the global
cluster we call a generation.

What is the significance
of thirty-three when over
one hundred and fifty
thousand go each day?

The poetic perspective shows
that although six degrees
of separation is a fact,
sometimes it comes down
to who our lives have touched.

How awful to be named below
your murderer whose infamy
outshines the light of promise
that your spark kept lit.

I pray that you do not pass
unremembered. Let the memorial
lift your name up to glory
for at least one singular
moment and let the world
allow you to pass in peace.

ETA:

Brian Bluhm, 25
Ryan Clark, 22
Austin Cloyd, 18
Jocelyne Couture-Nowak, a French Language instructor
Peruvian student Daniel Perez Cueva, 21
Prof. Kevin Granata, 46
Mathew Gregory Gwaltney, 24
Caitlin Hammaren, 19
Jeremy Herbstritt, 27
Rachael Elizabeth Hill, 18
Emily Jane Hilscher, 19
Jarrett Lane, 22
Matt La Porte, a sophomore
Henry J. Lee — also known as Henh Ly
Prof. Liviu Librescu, 76
Prof. G.V. Loganathan, 51
Partahi Lumbantoruan of Indonesia, 34
Lauren McCain, 20
Daniel O'Neil, 22
Juan Ortiz, 26
Minal Panchal, 26
Erin Peterson, 18
Michael Pohle, 23
Julia Pryde, 23
Mary Karen Read, 19
Reema Samaha, 18
Waleed Mohammed Shaalan, 32
Leslie Sherman, a sophomore
Maxine Turner, a senior
Nicole White, 20

 

[darkerdreamer]

3-28

Between midnight and four in the morning,
I can never write fast enough
to stay in stride with the storm.
Yet,
every morning I awake,
and struggle to pound out
at least eight lines
of poetic morning brew.

 

[4degrees]

10-25

stripped
sanded and slathered
with waterproof
impenetrable invisible
asshole repellant
it only repels the
invisible assholes
though.

 

[wildsweetone]

28

North v South

Colour for you is underfoot.
Bluebonnets,
painted indian brushes,
lush grass, remnants
of winter's soot.

For me, it's above.
In that turning before death,
Leaves grasp the sun,
clutch colour close -
tree-rainbows of love.

 

[AChild]

2-5

life is not about what you deserve,
but what you do with what you get

 

[vampiredust]

8-27

First Date

We'll meet inside your heart,
wading through a knee deep
river in our bed clothes until
we reach the other side.
The shop bought flowers
will be your lamp. I'll use your
lips. We'll read each others
bodies for today's news,
cutting out interesting articles.
Near the end, I'll look up at
canaries left behind by lovers
who came this way before,
waiting to see what cat
stalks them.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-2-10

That snake-necked lamp has got to go.

It holds nothing more
than spent batteries and dust.
Look at all those compartments
and slots for glasses and stuff,
maybe that one's for business
cards. I have no clue.

The point is, that lamp
is cheap and ugly
and has no place here
in the elegance that is me -
garbed in sweatpants
and a paint bespeckled
t-shirt. After all, I clean
up nicely. No matter

how it's dusted, that lamp
still looks like a bottom-
dweller brought to the surface
for a coffee at Starbucks.

It'll stand outside, smoking
ten dollar cigarettes,
complaining that six bucks
for a "Latte" is too much,
when an entire jar
of instant only costs four.

An aside: I edited this from a post I wrote on the 100 words thread.

 

[darkerdreamer]

3-29

The more someone tries,
to bend and break their jagged edges
to fit your various moulds and modules,
the more they lose of their original format.

No one asked one snowflake
to look like his cousin.

So why me, why this,
why now?

This mould is too confining,
I fear I'll never fit comfortably.

 

[4degrees]

10-26

inelegant growth
neglect widens a rose
colored wound, glass
needles scratch away
at scab no. seven hundred
reopened like a book
you just can't stop reading
maybe because of pictures
or graphic content concerning
someone's heart being
squashed like a piece of
rotten fruit
and smelling similar too