NaPoWriMo Challenge - April 1 - April 30

[Remec]

5/30

Not 'Til I Say So

The sessions were kept quick
and tight,
the better to get straight from
physicality to emotions and
back again;

but,
now and then,
when he felt like someone
needed the extra push,
things would go longer,

they would writhe,
tremble,
beg, even;
and he would lean over
with that smile he used
to practice, bring his face
opposite theirs
to watch the reaction when
he whispered,

"Not yet,
wait."

 

[champagne1982]

You Don't Tell Me When 11/30

Don't chill my thrill Daddy.
You tell me it's not time
but when you slow me down, Daddy
your voice commits a crime.

Cause when you break me off
my rapid mounting heat
cools no matter what you say
the endings just don't meet.

To stop me kills the flame Daddy
and instead of rocking the sublime,
I die a little death Daddy
that's not the pleasure kind.

My arousal's not a toy to use
when you're bored and left replete.
My sisters may get off on that
but for me I miss the beat.

When you chill my thrill Daddy
I won't moan or plead
Just stuff it in a sock Daddy
cause instead, my vibe is all I need.

 

[Piscator]

X/XXX

Semi-Strambotto Toscano of an Aging Lothario

The Brits' aphorism, "keep a stiff upper lip"
applies not, tongue and lips are both fit for task
the problem lies lower, at root of my kit
my stout shaft stays soft despite your loving clasp
which for this Casanova truly isn't hip
and your laughter won't help, not one little bit.
God's truth, my member is limp as a noodle
and this cockado can't cockadododle.

 

[Levitating_Bed]

9/30

The Masonry of Self Hate

The self conscious yes and the unconscious no -
and away and away and away we go.

 

[Tzara]

11

Brief Poem about Champie's New Avatar

You may think, O women,
Your cleavage is where we boys
All rest our eyes.

But you are forgetting
The beauty of your legs, your hips,
Your ass, your perfect thighs.




Oh, wait, I think there's something I'm forgett... oh, face! Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course your face too! I mean, like, especially!

 

[Angeline]

10-30

Dormitory Horror Story

A
bee
landed
on my knee
just as I woke up.
I ran naked into the hall
stung and undone but saved by one
hero with a towel.
Darn lilacs!
(Don't pick
at
night.)​

 

[Angeline]

11-30

Saving Each Other

Saving Private Ryan
made us cry. Me first,
thinking of Daddy landing
in the horror that was Omaha Beach,
23, a brash boy rough
and tumble from the Lower
East Side, rough enough,
lucky enough to survive,
come home and marry,
raise daughters.

You cried at the end
along with Ryan who stood
at his CO's grave, asking
Have I been a good man?

I want to tell you now:
you were the best man.
You had the best heart,
even if it broke
way too soon.

I didn't want to embarrass you,
so I wiped your tears, kissed you,
made you pancakes.

 

[todski28]

11-30

Tried to ask her father
for her hand in marriage...

I’d have had better luck negotiating
with a volcanic eruption
and felt less wrath than
he hurled at me
because I was riff-raff
scum of the earth
had no education
and to him no prospects

but I was a work horse
a grit your teeth we’re doing this motherfucker
kind of man
emptying shipping containers by day
the boss realised he could cut labour
by having me empty one by myself
team of three on the other
and I still finished before them
because I’d tasted poverty
eaten air
and spoken violent tongues
knew what gutters felt like when they were your pillow

Nightclubs after hours
bouncing in dives
recognising the haunting lost desolation
painted onto numb faces
cheap beer
classless women
asphalt stained clothes
fingers bent by laying bricks

felt at home with the working class,
we spoke the same language
didn’t talk in middle class vernacular
intelligent arguments and negetoiation
in couched phrases using clever deceptions
it was concrete and cuss words
backed by the respect you earned

and so to him I was caustic
a peptic ulser
The scum he had to scrape from his boot
and in his rage
he nearly ran me over

but she said yes at dinner
while he sat across from me
eyes raining lava

 

[Moochienanu]

11April2021

Honey

Soft and warm
Your voice, sounds
Middle of the night
First thing in the morning
Height of the afternoon
Under blankets, crisp sheets
My cheek on your shoulder
Together each moment
Comfortable, safe
Your arms
Embracing after so long
In the sound of our words
Spoken to empty rooms
Filled, yet left still wanting
Always overflowing glasses
To press a tongue to
This honey pours
With each press of lips
Flown over miles of time

 

[champagne1982]

Brief Poem about Champie's New Avatar

You may think, O women,
Your cleavage is where we boys
All rest our eyes.

But you are forgetting
The beauty of your legs, your hips,
Your ass, your perfect thighs.




Oh, wait, I think there's something I'm forgett... oh, face! Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course your face too! I mean, like, especially!

A Glowing Ode 12/30

I know a bold dame from the north
who oft way back when sallied forth
to warm southern climes
and her lover sublime
who'd spank her and then mount her horth (apologies to those with a speech impediment)

 

[Remec]

6/30

On Her Knees

I knew a woman from the South,
who had a right perty mouth,
her lips looked right,
the grip nice and tight,
He always flooded her throat, no doubt.

 

[Piscator]

XI/XXX

Trio Triolet

This night is right for us together to explore
such delights as we might find in trio triolet.
The limits of just two can soon become a bore
but add one and new fun comes for us to explore
and if convention flaunt, so be it evermore
as with a third, new paths emerge for us to play.
This night is right for us together to explore
such delights as we might find in trio triolet.


My apologies for edits -still not quite right.

 

[Levitating_Bed]

10/30

Roll Around in Heaven All Day

She is a flower

her knees rise and separate
her hips turning up to me
her center opening so slowly

I feel like the sun

 

[Tzara]

12

A Glowing Ode 12/30

I know a bold dame from the north
who oft way back when sallied forth
to warm southern climes
and her lover sublime
who'd spank her and then mount her horth (apologies to those with a speech impediment)

Response Poem, in Limerick Form,
Attempting to Embarrass Ms. C

If a "horth" is a thing I might ride on,
And that photo is something I've spied on
Even though it was shared,
It's quite lovely when bared
And a feature you ought to take pride on.

But beware! If it's an invitation
For a far northern bleep visitation,
Know that I'm somewhat gawky,
I know nothing of hockey,
And I'm age compromised in gyration.

But the scenery northward's astounding.
(And it seems to be needing a pounding.)
I'd embrace the fresh air
A discreet, um, affaire,
But this COVID thing's left me a groundling.

 

[Angeline]

12-30

Un-Wreathed Octave Madness*

I hope I don't drive myself mad
or sad for acting like a dope.
I'll cope though this poem's pretty bad.
(I'm trying but yeah it's a nope.)
I should read a book, no crying
or sighing for where does that lead?
My credo is writing's like flying:
eyes on the prize. Tricky indeed.


*Submitted with apologies.

 

[Lyricalli]

10/30

For fifty-plus years
Sally's shown up
to butcher, batter, and fry

Helen makes the cole slaw
potato salad, and greens

May bakes the sweet potato pies
puts together the banana puddin'
and fries up gizzards just right

Some days a labor of love
others not so much
but they've all become family
so hard times are a little less rough
and after five decades
one can cover for the other
though rarely done

Six days a week
you'd find them there
laughin', cryin', cookin'
together
always service with a smile
when customers come in

Then the exhaust broke
the stove needed repairing
and after a year of pandemic losses
the legacy of half a century
came to an end




Seems like it's poems with apologies day hehe

Found out this evening that a fried chicken place in my home town, that's been around for far longer than fifty years, just closed down. Some of the employees have been there for at least fifty years, and I was just pondering what that must be like, so I put it in a poem of sorts. With apologies, of course.

 

[Levitating_Bed]

11/30

Geodesy-us Explores the Great Circle of his Flat Earth

Charts laid out in captains quarters.
He's a conventional wisdom thwarter.
Chin stroked thoughtfully in this instance
he squints meaningfully into the distance.
When self-assurance is based upon
the certainty of others being wrong

Here be dragons.

Common sense, like tides receded.
Attention unpaid to what is needed:
rhumb lines and trigonometry,
not asinine ignominy.
But just remember as you search for home
It's a sphere you're on, not an orthodrome.

 

[todski28]

12-30

It’s been a while since
I’ve been down dreaming street
posed for a picture
a flashpoint in time frozen
in Polaroid or pixels now

change is inevitable I suppose
like style and fashion
or social taboos

sometimes I need to look back at where
we were to see where we're going
but navel gaze long enough
and you’ll end up making you own kind of hell
freezing creativity and driving
riving knives down the centre of knotted wood

I used to destroy things
with ease the mess of destruction it’s simplicity

but building something complete
something solid
a place to lay your head
that’s hardest of all

 

[29wordsforsnow]

11/30

A king with a wedlock in shards
stole himself from his wife's bed
every night when his desire grew bad
down the stairwells, passing ladies
of noble blood, late in their eighties
through drawing rooms with paintings
of tied up dames from distant lands
brushshopped by skillful masters
lovely on canvas, but not at hands
rushing inside the servants' quarters
stuffed with dressed down abigails
but not one to ever fit his heart's
empty mess that led him on the trails
beyond the kitchen's backyards
where the swineherd's daughter resided,
a stranger to corsets, stockings and garters
welcoming the diplomacy of rubbing glans
riding down their copulating treaties
by parties from title and rank unclad
wet signed with skin-deep fingernails
saluting the morning, moaning united

 

[29wordsforsnow]

12/30 - Trees, and other things with 'T'

That man inside the garden tree
yes, my dear
that was me

I wasn't stunned by any fear
I am a man
to make this clear

It's my secret delight, now and then
just sitting there
the highest I can

What does it mean, you saw me stare
on the neighbor's bits
no, I don't care

Oh, come on, darling, use your wits
I climbed to see
her enormous t..arantula

Yeah, the most unique two-headed tarantula I've ever seen, escaping it's cage, and I was like to warn her, goddammit.

 

[Piscator]

XII/XXX

Comfort in Sharing

There's a comfort in our shared bed well beyond amorous interludes.

 

[Piscator]

XIII/XXX

Kitchen Klatch Canzonetta

Our back cupboard, the one which lies above
the microwave, houses backup coffee
cups, with faded images of turtle doves
or like that camel cup just unwieldy.
Others with flaws, cracks or broken handles
patiently waiting for that someday repair
holding memories some might say shambles
impatiently waiting for that someday repair.

Below there's a drawer of this and that
measuring spoons and knives not in the block
knife sharpeners, plate rests, a hot plate mat,
chopsticks, five corkscrews, and six bottle stops,
jar lids and garlic presses assorted
awaiting their chance to purpose reveal.
scattered remnants of past projects aborted
awaiting their chance to purpose reveal.


* major rewrite after realizing the form has a minimum of two stanzas
and name change to accommodate.

 

[Moochienanu]

12April2021

He says sweet things.

More of you is always better
And wanting to know
Dreaming about
Every second spent in your arms
Fevered kisses
Of wet lips
Rightly fit puzzle pieces
Each day bringing with it
Another night on it’s back
Closer to and moving towards
Hands clasped and held above
Open hearts bursting from chests
Thankful for the time
Holding you, holding me,
Embracing the details
Remembering each other more

 

[29wordsforsnow]

13/30 - crossing a [dark] line

(some say 13 is not a lucky number)

In a trailer park
ed nearby Savannah
's front yard right over
coming the urge to scratch his rear
view mirror memories of his ex
pertly cut hedge
hog crop he had done before going to George
town that made him stop to think whereto run

or what to do with that awful gun,
along with the chest, down a gorge?
he would ask Serge, who took his pledge,
clean out Serge's life for his next.
But soon he would hear,
there's nowhere to cover,
this girl had been Hannah,
Serge's new, he met in the dark.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

14/30

The morning has come.

It's almost five, as it seems.

Peace dawns around your line.

I heard your breath in my dreams.

Forgot to say thanks that you're mine.

Did I see a flicker in your carefully closed eye?

Would you think bad of me if I reach out and shake?

What did you say about leaving and not telling goodbye?

What would you say if I asked, "Are you awake?"

Do I already dare to pick up the phone?

Can I admit, "an angel went home"?

The mourning has come.