NaPoWriMo Challenge - April 1 - April 30

[Levitating_Bed]

2/30

1st One

and there I was
not really wanting to do it
but knowing I had to
not so much wanting to
but wanting to get it over with
so I wouldn't be
the last of my friends to

when the time came
I was suddenly shy
unprepared

This will go so much better if you just relax

(the necessary parts
functionally laid bare)

It will only hurt for a second

(cool air on naked skin
detached, practiced, hands)

And... there

(over so quickly? relieved and
yet somehow disappointed)

You did great

she said
already looking past me
and towards the next

 

[Angeline]

2-30

Laundry

You hand me the basket,
warm and filled with laundry,
hip hugger panties folded
neat, pressed close
to cotton nightgowns.

Our eyes spot my black bra,
the lacy underwire, push up bra
that hooks in the front.

We share a smile,
bland and perfectly pleasant,
a safe smile that ignores
the moment we spark secretly,
the frisson where we each imagine
how you might have angled me

against the wall kissing and
so eager to get at my soft
breasts that you don't even bother
with the hook but simply push
that bra down and expose me
and move your mouth
to my aching nipple and suck
until I groan in your ear yes oh
I want to feel you everywhere.

These moments must pass
unacknowledged of course,
so I thank you. I take my leave.

When I start my car my fingers tremble.

 

[Lyricalli]

3/30

I confess, I still get angry. Not often,
but it comes, and seems a little crazy
when it goes. Being mad at a dead man.
Dead. First time I've used that description.
Have preferred euphemism. Doesn't matter
that it's futile. Nothing I want to scream
can change a damn thing, but it's easier
than the ache.

 

[legerdemer]

2/30. Orange You Glad It’s Friday?

A so-so, indifferent clementine—
Not much to look at, nor redeemed
By taste, unlike so many others of its ilk—
Is left neglected on a shelf
Where the bright orange spheroid
Yields and caves in, day by day, to
Duller brownish hues and corrugated skin.

But oh, the scent! Aroma concentrated
As spring itself lays flirting in my palm.
The last of winter’s grizzled slush
Displaced by gaudier, more fragrant sprays.

 

[todski28]

4-30

There’s a cup of coffee on the night stand
I smirk
because it was supposed to be
“just coffee“ this time

not the taste of snow and depravity
served sweet with cream
the room reeks of silk bindings
that have torn into flesh

you struggled
to make me stop, or keep me going
it was one of those moments
where too much and not enough
collided

in the place where
my fingers grip your ankles
and we attempt to slake a thirst
brought about by the sound
of salt falling

 

[Moochienanu]

3April2021

Good Morning

There was a whole conversation before we even spoke

Looking down, over my body
Held up on the ball of feet
Displayed slowly as the
Open door shut itself behind you

A question and acknowledgement in your eye
The small smirk at the corner of your mouth
Disappeared into a hungry hand on my hip

My nervous, fretting morning
Written and settling in the fine lines of my face
Blew away with a kiss that said everything

Because before you even said “good morning,”
It was.

 

[Piscator]

!V/XXX

Pen to Page

The stars shine brightest in darkest of night
the stars shine brightest in darkest of night
with morning comes the sun’s new light
with morning comes the sun’s new light
in darkest night the stars shine brightest
with sun’s new light the morning comes.

Aspen leaves quiver at slightest breeze
aspen leaves quiver at slightest breeze
whilst topcats stalk softly on velvet knees
whilst topcats stalk softly on velvet knees
with slightest breeze aspen leaves quiver
whilst on velvet knees topcats softly stalk.

Pen page with care when in times perilous
pen page with care when in times perilous
beware those who bustle with plans nefarious
beware those who bustle with plans nefarious
pen page with care with those who bustle
in times perilous of nefarious plans beware.

In darkest night whilst topcats stalk softly
the stars shine brightest on velvet knees.
When the sun comes with slightest of breeze
aspen leaves quiver with new morning light.
Beware those who with plans perilous bustle
pen page with care in nefarious times.

 

[Levitating_Bed]

3/30

Explanans and explanandum,
side by each or else in tandem.
Set and setting start as random,
so fairness is a foolish phantom.
An empty hand is chance's ransom,
or unearned rewards however handsome.
But for all the errata and addendum -
the wiggly worms our final fandom.

 

[champagne1982]

America, The Sullied - A Letter From A Dirty Canadian 3/30

“...they shall be given the authority to rule from sea to sea for they shall deliver the needy when they call, the poor, the weak and those who have no helper.” Ps 72

The amber waves of grain you laud, exist just down the road from home,
they're fenced in now to stop the cattle's urge to freely roam.
Those for spacious skies your noblesse oblige
dehumanized the Cherokee and the Souix
and a Trail Of Tears their footsteps blazed
to a desert dearth of bison and of dew

Oh great the Indian agents provide whiskey, beads and guns
while trampling on traditions glorious and shame the native son
God did not inspire such hate when Jesus bade Christians to go forth
but yet you evoke with vicious spite the right to all of worth

That equality you claim for yours as rights inalienable and true
have placed a barrier behind which crowd all but the chosen few
whose color and sex have stolen pride and value
from all who differ in creed and race from you

Oh beautiful your ideals once were and bright hope shone down on thee
your constitution now is sullied by men who rule by circumstance and greed
Your freedom oath and constitution are but empty words to me
until you (and I as well) proclaim truth, trust, and justice for all,
from sea to sea to sea.

 

[Tzara]

3

On Writing Onegin Stanza

As form, it's quite exasperating
To those for meter disinclined—
Linguistically masturbating
Made more complex by rules on rhyme.
But if you like your poems silly,
Their rhythms twisted willy-nilly,
It could be just the sonnet form
To whose devotion you'll be sworn.
You see, it's got a syncopation,
A kind of alternating beat
That crazy rocks, but's still as sweet
As heavy metal on chelation.
So hack one out, for exercise,
And damn all those who'll criticize.

 

[Angeline]

3-30

Low

When it comes in waves
and it will, it takes you.
You don't fight the current
you're not inclined
to anything but being taken
down.

It's not a place but a heaviness
in the limbs, a short breath
as if some unmoving thing
has sat on the words. Even
ideas are stifled,
their sharp edges lost
in the fog and the weight.

It's not sad. There are no
emotions in the void.
It's not even bleak,
just empty

though sometimes a ghost
caught in the tangle above
or beyond (it's hard to know)
will whisper an unintelligible
something that dissipates
like steam.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

4/30

A womb-ish feeling
under the morning lit blanket
warm, reddish hues,
that are not part of the problem,
if it weren't for the feet hit by cool reality
and the rectangular light shining its power
of breaking news and background stories
firing on nerve tracts that deliver a memory
of overused electrical systems
insulation gone and outlets molten

Like the colorful Easter eggs
I wished I could paint an insulation layer on myself
and another, and anoth...
but besides ears and eyes
it would, too, block speaking out on

"Rape Culture"?

How in the world did those two words come so close together?

Concrete on my mind, again
some handbooks advice
saltwater will wash out the vulnerable cement
leaving behind the sharp-edged, hard parts
unsocially distanced
but which part of the problem ever read guidelines?

An unrelated BBC article
offers an expert's opinion
to choose compassion over empathy
in general
I don't think that's a part of the problem
more the lack of
a womb-ish feeling
is lost to cold reality.

Time to remove the covers.

 

[Lyricalli]

4/30

This was no sweet song
no chirpy welcome to spring
it was a shriek
a wail
sharp with desolation

There was no return to his call

I was just trying to sleep
tragedy rising with the dawn
outside my window

The little guy had my sympathy
but by minute thirteen
I'd concocted myriad violent fantasies
to end both our miseries
that would let me rest in peace

 

[Piscator]

V/XXX

Promise Me

Promise me the day
in apple blossom May
we’ll with each other play
promise me the day

Promise me the moon
Midsummer’s eve in June
with garlands we’ll festoon
promise me the moon

Promise a trip to Mars
gateway to the stars
we’ll hang in red-shift bars
promise a trip to Mars

Promise me the sea
swimming naked free
no plastic will we see
promise me the sea

Promise me the sky
we will together fly
above the contrails high
promise me the sky

Promise me the earth
rich soil for my berth
in nature’s circle rebirth
promise me the earth

 

[Levitating_Bed]

4/30

Rolling Stones

Whether it's meant to reveal
an empty tomb,
or how Muddy Waters
won't be there either, ladies,
in the morning when you wake up.

Whether it's played for
punishment like Sisyphus, or
laughs like Naranath Bhranthan.

You, with your eyes up to the sky
or, without a direction home.

Even Muddy wants to be a catfish,
and that empty cave is
an unironic promise of salvation.

Belief is the tension
between hope and possibility.
A three card monte we smilingly play.
Who can blame us?

Because, for the pagans we began as

out of Winter's desolation
without fail
comes Spring.

 

[champagne1982]

Keukenhof Sentence 4/30

 

[Neonurotic]

Nothing Gesso Can't Fix - 4/30

Happy tall pine tree here,
a few more friends there.
A fan brush makes four, not five;
even numbers look off
somehow, it does. My perfect-OCD
knows this is true; ignore the crazy.

Have colors intense, dark
up front then mute to a haze.
We see vibrancy first,
it's closer, we can touch it.

The reference is not live
but we remember it like it is:
The mountains, the larks,
forest, the fronds, the fir needles,
I can't paint the hike
on that crisp spring morning.

Instead we see and it all comes back:
We found the meadow near
the peak, had made fiddlehead
tamagoyaki with bloody marys,
We lay in the sun, made love
in the mountain daisies,
pearly everlasting not forgetting
the valerian; we slept like babies
until discovered by other hikers.

About the rude voyeurs, forget.
They won't ruin the picture
I can paint them out, a swipe of gesso;
gone, gone. Butter, fresh greens
tomatoes, vodka, sexy morning sex
are what we remember best.

 

[Remec]

2/30

A Bit of Pie

Birthday celebrations
have been more boisterous,
loud and manic,
with music and dancing
and so much going on;

but this one resonated more

just a group of guys,
in a half-empty restaurant,
having some pizza,
catching up with each other,
like it'd been forever
rather than a couple of weeks

then the tale of the dinner
choice came out,
the place used to be further up
the street, across from a church
where the birthday boy would
occasionally attend services
with his mother,
then come for cheese pizza

Pizza he hadn't had since
she died,

until that night.

 

[Remec]

3/30

Friggin' Murphy

new month came
with no jokes
or pranks,

until Murphy noticed me,
of course,

tripped going up stairs,
fell out of bed,
got my belt and zipper out
of the way too late and
had to really wash
my hands
left my wallet in my coat pocket
forgot my reading glasses
again

see what I mean?
Not even a week and I'm
pretty sure it's already been
a month of torment

minor ones

peeves, even,

but I'm not sure I can
handle the inevitable
escalation
to come.

 

[Moochienanu]

4April2021

In your wake

Roll into bed again
feeling soft, warmed sheets
after hours of you filling
every wrinkle with your body,
sumptuousness akin
to crisp morning strolls,
hand in hand, down a
forester’s road.

Something else
simply indescribable,
curling up in the fading memory
makes each bit
relax. Embracing the pillow as
your head lay next to mine,
face buried in your neck, shoulder,
kisses unstoppable,
impression of you in deep breath
calms me.

This is just me, tricking my mind
just a little longer, even
simply the few minutes following the
vacuum left with your exit and the
slow close of the hall door
behind you, that you’re not really
gone yet.

 

[Angeline]

4-30

Blase Ottava Rima

I can't tell if I miss you anymore.
Years blur memory till it's like a disc
heard and heard. What am I listening for?
Like any song that's overplayed there's risk
I'll become sick of knowing what's in store:
The dance recitals, the parades, a brisk
walk on a fading day through winter snow
Time just rolls by. Everything must go.

 

[todski28]

5-30

scent of bread
drifts lazily from the oven
lined loaves sit cooling on the counter
I reach out
take one
rich crust cracks beneath my searching fingers
a light steam rises as the next batch
are slid into the oven

there's flour in your hair
a wisp of white
a small bead of sweat trickles down you brow
you absently wipe it away with the back of your hand

and I realise what its like
to break like bread
rise with steam and fervour
as if hungry is a sixth sense
tacked onto a vision of you
and a flavour that demands
to be consumed

grabbing a spatula
swatting your ass with it
was like altering a recipe
and running off the page

gripping your hips
against your semi-reflexive no
that collapsed into a yes
as you bit my lip

my hand buried in your hair
and baby I'm sorry because
for some reason I need to taste all of you
and I don't care if the next batch burns

 

[Tzara]

4

somedays,
my emotions

seem like dimes
strewn

on an otherwise empty
table, almost

worthless, yet
I can't

pick them up
however long my fingers try

 

[29wordsforsnow]

5/30 - Fall - An American Crossword

Hear​

Golden curls' rustle tousles my deaf ear's hair cells as cascades fall.

Her​

Some grey in between what summer sun would bleach more faded in fall.

Hair​

Every strand dropping beweeped along therapy for another fall.

Fall​

 

[Lyricalli]

5/30

They make it look easy
in movies, on TV
difficult, sad, but simple
peaceful

No one warns you about the sound
the gurgle and rattle
of last gasping breaths
or that your aunt will urge
her sister's broken body to fight
as if your father hadn't told
the love of his life that it was safe to move on
and you hadn't held her hand
whispering that it would be okay
you'd take care of your dad

You do know to expect the silence
that eventually comes

Some emotion without a name
settled in, burrowed into my bones
fused me to the floor
and I noticed, in some part of my brain
that others were leaving the room
my dad's hand on my shoulder
quietly saying she wasn't there anymore

She was the first to hold me
I was the last to let her go