NaPoWriMo Challenge - April 1 - April 30

[Lyricalli]

11/30

Woke up too early
stayed unstill in bed
listened to birds break the dawn
silence turned to white noise
and I tried to write a poem in my head
that's not about you

Didn't go well

Not that I couldn't create phrases
describing bird songs
shadows on my wall
what I had for dinner last night
they just had no heart
with you on my mind
everything else felt so uninspired

 

[Angeline]

13-30

That Sandi-witch is in the hall screaming.
I hear her even though my door is shut.
I focus on birdcalls, wind chimes, dreaming,
any thought that'll help drown out that nut.
At least I still have this room to myself
for since Dora died they've left me alone.
I keep her angel on the bathroom shelf;
It's a reminder of her in gray stone.
Life is ephemeral. I ought to know.
Our life is done though I still wear your ring.
I've spent this life learning how to let go,
still you're in my heart and not in some thing.
But age learns to love the overlooked treats:
Rainstorms and cloud forms, soft cushions on seats.

 

[Tzara]

13

I'm getting the biggest kick out of this little thread.

Oh, and Champ... nice ass

The Poet, Perhaps Unwisely, Invites
Lyricalli into His Limerickicy

Perhaps you might join us, Ms. Calli?
That could make a sweet sexual rally.
Invite todski as well
And let's think. . . What the hell,
Let's let all poets come! Quite a tally!

But would Formalists sonnetize Free Verse?
And would that be perversity or worse—
Linking poets and sex
Too like fucking one's ex?
Way too haiku—syllabically terse.

So perhaps I'll go back to just writing
Some weak poems extolling track lighting.
For though architecture
Is a safe subject (Sure!)
It's not one that's especially exciting.



Well, you know, thirteen is a jinxed number. (And note that I originally typed "junxed," which might be even more appropriate.)

 

[champagne1982]

Zufällig Anarchie 13/30

Is it really that I'm upset that people still enjoy
the social things we're not supposed to do;
or more like I'm just jealous that I can't suppress
my bone borne empathy and concern for the helpless?
I should simply become passive aggressive in blatant
disregard of rules, manners, and respect
and get on a plane and fly to Costa Rica. A sojourn
in Cozumel would suit me oh so fine. And all
the fountains of house tequila would drown
my conscience so that I could spend
the Covid Hotel stay when I come home
watching porn in my room on Skype with you.

 

[todski28]

13-30

stare out over fake lights
and the low rumble of a Diesel engine
fish alight in the shallows
pecking away at a lifeless cuttlefish

the irony is not lost on me
as the frothy bubbles push the tide forward
it’s covered the boat ramp
it’s lapping at the break rocks
polished pebbles erode away

for some reason
I want to strip naked
and taste the ocean
with my skin

but I won’t
because I’ve lost something

 

[Levitating_Bed]

12/30

About a Mile Or So, There and Back

...the smile that was mine

walking barefoot on that
beach In cold December
along the rocks was your
idea.
I wonder if you under-
stood how I would be able to
feel forever the sand between
my toes.
Your warm hand as the
wind played with your hair and
the way your happiness shone
so that all ships were safe and

the smile that was mine...

 

[Piscator]

XIV/XXX

On Nothing

When you have nothing to write about, write about nothing,
Christine Mazumdar - CBC Literary Writing Tip, 6:00 am, April 13, 2021

I'll not venture into Sartre, that's too existential
for in these viral times, my needs are fundamental
although it's hard to stop my being self-referential.

Where does my mouse prompt go when it disappears
before I go into Device Manager to return it now to here?
and with so many dying, why have I neither fear nor tears?

For deep inside lies nought but emptiness
which almost rhymes with nothingness
and a fear that it's all meaningless.

 

[Tzara]

14

Mired Deep in the Muck of Limerick Hell,
the Poet Ponders His Options

Wow, this limerick thing's quite persistent!
These damn anapests strangely resistant—
Trying ottava rima
Or some other schema
Still ends up triple metered. Insistent.

And you can't be flirtatiously frilly
When you're writing a form that is silly.
Petrarch's Laura would laugh
At your sexual gaffe
As your sleepover prospects grow chilly.

Too much whimsy in wooing seems gassy.
One wants elegant rhyming—that's classy.
For to lead her to bed
And to coax her legs spread
You had better not get her eyes glassy.

So if I'm ever able to find bliss,
From a peck on the cheek to a soul kiss,
A quite different aesthetic
Must define my poetics,
Or else I'll try psychokinesis.

 

[Lyricalli]

12/10

All sudsed up and squeaky clean
slicked almond oil on still-damp skin
soft, glistening
good enough to eat
(hope no one has a nut allergy)

Tension heightened, nipples tighten
at just the thought of touch
inside slides my favorite plug
with the pretty emerald in the end
(some surprises might be too much)

Deep breath in, deep breath out
unsure what happens now
familiar with two, flirted with three
but four (or more!) is new territory

Anticipation flows
wet patch grows
and what's next, I can't wait to see


So I'm oiled up and ready
pulse racing, breath catching
'cause todski's said
he's going in deep

 

[Angeline]

14-30

Flower Moon Canzonetta

We walked where purple lupine grow
where pink rugosa roses bloom
near wavelets frothing in a glow~
twilight in late May's Flower Moon.
I never dreamed we'd not return.
The plan was that we come back soon
As Mom would say You live, you learn.
The plan was that we come back soon.

 

[Levitating_Bed]

13/30

Tzara is our Salon's Lord Byron,
with his devilish encouragement and admiring.
Poems may, or may not come
but poets will and then some
from the sort of degeneracy he's inspiring.

There's a beauty Champ's picture's espousin'
leaves a fine sheen of sweat I'm a-doused in.
To capture it with words?
A task both futile and absurd -
to do it right I'd need at least a thousand.

Squeaky clean in deed but not thought
a slick sudsed up sexy onslaught
All these words burning bright
deep into the night
light the scene for our group carnal jackpot.

 

[Angeline]

15-30

American Sentences

Ben Franklin smiled, winked in day-glow orange at the Electric Factory.

I was in the bleachers, Janis sashayed across the stage in Summertime.

Barbara tripped to Country Joe McDonald, but I just read the I Ching.

I wore a green miniskirt, a pink poor boy sweater. I smoked L&Ms.

 

[Moochienanu]

13April2021

Glass

a bird, black as night
the silver glow of the moon
squeeze my hand in yours

cool, clear evening
body aching to be close
hearts beating in time

wings curling under
eyes seeing own reflection
through windows of you

 

[todski28]

14-30

The keys jangle as I lift them
from the bowl on the counter
I reek of libertine blasphemy
and the taste of her and him mixed together
is still in the light stubble of my beard
because in the moment
eating pussy is all that matters
only later in your private thoughts do
you think things through

the smell of her giante cigarettes
clings to me like a cheap stripper
you double tipped because the drinks
were stiff and so were you

my hand tingles
because asses need to be tanned when
she’s begging and you’re already going
as hard as you can
one more sting to add to the sweet
it’s all a haze of tangled limbs
and play lists
because she had to straddle the speakers
fuck to the bass
she sang lost dripping notes into the night
wrapped tight around my struggling self control
she left a puddle on the shag pile while I pulled out
used my fingers to finish her quivering
because one more thrust and my mess would have been
splashed up her thighs
and stained the carpet too

and then we swapped partners

Key in the ignition the engine kicked alight
calli skipped out behind me
her knees still weak
she leant on my arm and whispered
can we come back next week....

 

[29wordsforsnow]

15/30 - We

By capabilities,
it makes us the same.

Firstly, regarding its name,
we differ.

Secondly,
stick it out,
roll it around,
suck and lick,
growl and moan,
laugh and scream,
and many more acts
everyone of us can do.
But the pronounced sounds,
sense-altering, is what astounds.

wŏ men
takes a roll on my tongue,
walks me through a valley,
but in the end
we're all included
in two Chinese syllables.

women
seems to have a different role
some ten thousand miles away,
but a mindful tongue would say
like Ying and Yang, even in English,
it's two in one in the end.

...if it only were that simple...

Quite south of both
some know that we
unites more than two shades.

 

[champagne1982]

Mired Deep in the Muck of Limerick Hell,
the Poet Ponders His Options<snip>

Option One - A Terzanelle 14/30

My love won't you come and sit a while
here with me outside of limerick hell
where we'll have a high tea in fabulous style

After we're done sojourning a spell
I'll not be lured nicely into your trap
I refuse to get caught in limerick hell

Where you write somewhat silly limerick crap
While pondering cleavages both up and down
I'll not be lured nicely into your trap

Even though the cadence goes round and round
in time with my breasts ensconced in pink lace
While pondering cleavages both up and down

You claim you desire to lay eyes on my face
That my mind and my thoughts are what titillates
and not really my breasts ensconced in pink lace

I see by your twitches you anticipate
sitting here closely beside me a while
so my mind and my thoughts tastefully titillate
those limerickicky schemes beside me a while.

 

[Moochienanu]

14April2021

Tulips

Gifts of spring in rows of colours
Poured and painted onto old buildings
Crumbling chimney stacks
Barns amidst bright quilts
Driven past over miles to feel closer

Some stems muted by earth
The memory of mud
Dried, cracked today
Walk over and not get a boot heel stuck

Working their bulbous bodies up and down
Grasping firm feet with splayed toes rooted
Long graceful necks
A tight bud aloft unopened
Keeping secrets
Supple curves suggesting the treasures
Revealed in their own time

 

[Tzara]

15

...my breasts ensconced in pink lace

After the Party

Once the others have left,
I collect the half-empty glasses,
straighten the pillows

on your living room couch.
Reluctantly I sigh,
I guess I should be going home now.

Then your silvery little laugh
drifts out of the bedroom
and you lean against its open door.

Backlit, in the dim light,
even the lace
seems the color of blush wine.

 

[Lyricalli]

13/30

After I let go of her hand
and went into the hall
goodbyes and hugs
for those waiting for me
promises that I'd be in touch soon
with plans, dates, the rituals of death
and watched their walks to the exit
gathered my things, found the sun again
and made some necessary calls
standing by the car

I went out for a cheeseburger

Don't even know if I was hungry
but it's all I wanted to do
because people eat lunch in the afternoon
and time keeps ticking away until evening
though I don't know what dinner was
and then you sleep (maybe)
and then it's morning again

and then it all happened yesterday

then it's been ten years of yesterdays

and cheeseburgers for dinner tonight




Bit of a mess, but I think there might be something in it for later, so I'm posting it. With apologies, of course hehe

 

[Tzara]

16

Tzara is our Salon's Lord Byron

The Poet Relapses to Limerick Form
(Hoping This Is But a Temporary Setback)

I am hardly a libertine Byron,
Who Fox News would display on a chyron.
I acknowledge I may
Have inspired some play
But isn't that Lit's home environs?

 

[Levitating_Bed]

14/30

Unused Volume

as if I had something to say
or perhaps
her quite possibly heart
as empty container

 

[todski28]

Left the water hot
skin turning cooked crustacean
Because I wanted to scrub the tear stained wreckage
from my chest
and I can’t feel the way you do
the way you all look at me as if I’m broken
because I won’t cry as if I can’t

but when you all drifted off to sleep
I went and lay in his bed
as if to say sorry
that I was alive
as if to try and see things through
his eyes

and now I’m on fire
because I can’t get it out
and you, you’re all sound asleep

 

[Remec]

7/30

Slipping Away

Come, drape yourself about me as you will,
We still shall slip away from everyone to escape
then scrape our way, no matter the barrier, until
we find the time and space to celebrate. A crepe
breakfast to reward all the hard work over time,
putting behind us all the worries of our past,
outlasting all those naysayers with the urge to chime
in asked or not; Screw ‘em and unfurl the sail from the mast.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

16/30

launched in bathroom tropics
under terry bathrobe peel
smuggling shame bathed topics
sails your bathtubbed keel

hallway
dripping
catwalk
tip, tip
heel
sensually
your shoulders
start wiggling
soft garment
frictionless
from flexible
preheated hips
stays a moment
tempting thighs
gently gyrating
naked halfway
stares follow
falling fabric
more slowly
down until
they stop
at your
tiny toes

anchored in the bedroom lagoon
on the reefed bedsheets galleon
lies your bedtime champion
pretty tied up and bedded soon​

 

[Piscator]

XV/XXX

J'ai Besoin, ce Soir

J’ai besoin de ta touche, ce soir
J’ai besoin de ta main en ma main, ce soir
J’ai besoin de ta bouche, ce soir
J’ai besoin de ma langue entre ta bouche, ce soir
J’ai besoins de ma bouche en ta chatte, ce soir
J’ai besoin de ta bouche en ma bite ce soir
J’ai besoin de ma bite au fond de ta chatte, ce soir
J’ai besoin de ton cœur et ton âme, ce soir
J’ai besoins de tout de toi pour toujours plus, toujours plus