Dirty 30 in 30

[PandoraGlitters]

Great 30, Wespeak.

 

[WickedEve]

#1

Congrats 30 gooduns done 'n' dusted

Great 30, Wespeak.

Thank you and thank you and now W.E. is going to do 30. I must really be a masochist.
The wespeak name, if I didn't mention it before, was a name that Doug (smithpeter) and I used. So I dusted it off for the holidays and even submitted some poems under that name.

#1

To write of you
in beauty,
time must collapse

into the chasm, with moments
sifted through snow,
shade that has fallen brittle,
and the dog day afternoon
sieves to the Spring bottom,

when you were air
and all streams
and pleasures in my wardrobe.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

ohhhhhhhhh you rascal!!

 

[WickedEve]

#2

ohhhhhhhhh you rascal!!

Among other things.

While I'm in the mood to write:


sad boy, do not weep
in high acres.

you are my other skin,
(the itchy one)
my stubbly underwear,
my foolish lover.

i want to drown you in my coffee
but i can’t swim.
maybe a tiny life line,
some mouth-to-mouth…

stop crying
or i’ll brew it strong.

 

[champagne1982]

I knew I remembered wespeak! What really clinched it for me though, was a wespeak Conrad Dimple channelling.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I knew I remembered wespeak! What really clinched it for me though, was a wespeak Conrad Dimple channelling.

ahhhhhh I saw that and thought doesn't that belong to Eve then thought no I won't say anything , just didn't make the connection that far! Too trusting me!

 

[WickedEve]

#3

Dark roast poetry is the topic
over coffee. You cream
my cup, a java jammin’ jazz
combo mug that you’d never dive into,
certainly wouldn’t drown inside.

Freshly brewed Sumatran
and Bailey’s
swirls in the bathwater,
‘til we overflow morning.

 

[Angeline]

Dark roast poetry is the topic
over coffee. You cream
my cup, a java jammin’ jazz
combo mug that you’d never dive into,
certainly wouldn’t drown inside.

Freshly brewed Sumatran
and Bailey’s
swirls in the bathwater,
‘til we overflow morning.

You said jazz.

 

[sassynyc]

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[PandoraGlitters]

Wow, Sassy, you go! Great start. Love the last stanza esp.

ETA: cold blooded and hot coffee. Ice coffee?

 

[sassynyc]

Wow, Sassy, you go! Great start. Love the last stanza esp.

ETA: cold blooded and hot coffee. Ice coffee?

Thank you Dora.
I wasn't sure if anyone would pick that up. You hit the nail on the head. It actually has double meaning: a)iced coffee and b)snakes are cold-blooded.

 

[sassynyc]

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[WickedEve]

dipping ny toe back in the water.....gasp

Coffee Cobra

Coffee cobra coiled, dormant,
my resting place, a humble mug.
Sassy snake hips won’t swivel seduction
or dance to the samba siren of horns.
My signature, never a slow sexy scrawl
with lazy looped vowels and consonant swagger.

My style is abrupt. ‘Subtle’ just ain’t my bag.
I sit up, when witty words waft on wind.
Poets masturbate funny bones, and I spew
venom on keyboards and screens,
any unfortunate thing in my path.

A serpent, birthed in Eve’s Garden;
if you think me crude, in my defense,
I am cold-blooded, hopped up on caffeine
left to brew, silent, waiting to laugh.
Inside beats a heart, of Arabica bean.
If I am bitter, I make no apologies.

Ahh, the coffee cobra.

 

[WickedEve]

You said jazz.

It's a jammin' cow jazz combo coffee cup. I left the cow out of the poem.
I knew you'd say something about the jazz!

 

[WickedEve]

#4

A Conrad Dimple Poem: not yet numbered
Conrad Dimple and The Bunker of Dropped Calls
from the channeled spirit of Conrad Dimple


His ladies, Tulle and Asha,
with wafer brring brrings
strapped to waffled thighs,
flip open conversation.

The mysterious landing strip,
I have arrived. A llama is staring.
If you do not hear from your Dimple
in a day, call no one.​

Conrad is their propeller
of pleasure, an aeroplane ride
for their heads.

Beneath wild blue and soaring grass,
flying machine morsels
gurgle the belly of the bunker.
Conrad’s waning strength is nearly digested:

br…ring…gg

“Tulle, it was our Conrad!”

“The message?”

“Alpaca…
government?”

 

[sassynyc]

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[sassynyc]

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[sassynyc]

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[sassynyc]

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[WickedEve]

#5

I prefer brilliance
when it is fucking brilliance,
when it is idiot savant
brilliance.

Oh, self-centered,
obnoxious genius,
you are an artist,
a smacked ass of insanity.​

And so our poet slides down her Conrad,
clings to his mossy legs
and flings

her review into the yonder.
The flight of flattery soars,
no, it flutters,
descends,
coats her in words,
just words.

Slap my face
to ground me.
Conrad drifts and poet is only an idiot
without her insanity.

 

[WickedEve]

#6

This woman endures
the cottonwood. Suspended,
she is poetic Horse, pierced
channeling; she dances
in sun thought, when sun
is in the gloaming.

~

but you sir are a poet called possum.
not that I envision you as a front porch
possum, rather a varmint
of slender annoyance,
mild itching.

my broom has swept the hissing corner
by the door.
leave my front porch,
you round-bellied frustration
of clawing skin.

you, though, are gentler,
a more tamed possum, like the silly creature
that invaded my neighbor’s dollhouse
and stayed for a spell.

 

[WickedEve]

#7

The sudden flutter,
then they soar.
I want to fly
with them, away from planes
but it is military sky.

Our town is viral,
a target practice. Their metal mothra
wings beat our air, day
and night, leaving us with dull ache.

We are peaceful war zone.
Oceana, call home your boys.

 

[WickedEve]

#8

Your pages have fallen
to dust on my sorry shelf,
simply because
you are refinished,
a polished seat — beautiful,

though flaw-longing is in me.
Be a faded chair, with legs
like lambs
and lions and I will sit,

not as a lover,
but kindred. Marred sister,
let us walk
stony paths, rest upon rocks

and twigs
under God’s lovely tree, where
we will write
all the wormy soils beneath us.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

#8 kicks ass, Eve. Power and elegance in equal measure.

 

[sassynyc]

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