2023 Poem-A-Week Challenge (Poems Only Thread)

[Angeline]

Birdland *

The synth floats in,
a gentle wave to the shoreline
so you're not prepared
for that funky melodic groove.
Wake up, says Jaco
and Wayne blasts his horn,
Josef keys in and suddenly
we're on the fast track,

fusion moving at the speed of joy:
jazz, funk, prog rock blend
propulsive, erotic even, drums
driving this wild train forward
Wayne and Jaco in musical conversation
and bursts of song, ecstatic spasms
driving through heavy weather.




*RIP Wayne Shorter




Week 9, Poem 1, Total Poems 13

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Week 8 Poem 15

Winter Lingers

Winter lingers longer than we’d like,
blessing us with blowing snow and icy roads
whose ditches fill, not with spring run-off,
but with unsuspecting cars empty now
of their unlucky or careless occupants.

The forecasts warn of March blizzards
and each sunny day offers no warmth,
Under their white counterpane, bulbs wait
impatiently, knowing that when the time comes,
the glory will be worth the wait, but
winter lingers too long.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Silence ain't golden

The wind says hello to a little green plastic bag
in its new home with ocean view high up on a tree
there's laughter, fancy toys, people on the sand
tanning, dreaming, licking ice cream paid in cash

Waves, playful like the little green plastic bag, crash
so many footprints strewn on this thin strip of land
on yet another sandy beach, people on their back
towel beneath, easily, one of them could be me

Lying on its back, a little green plastic bag.
Who put it on that tree? Could it've been me?

About seven hours later, some heard planks crash
a faint sound in the noisy scenery of this land
I don't know if one of them, not listening, was me
shaken for a moment, under blankets on their back

Their numbers jump, one more big black plastic bag
among broken dreams strewn all over the sand
like the apples fallen from an orchard's tree
who came for hope, sending home a little cash

And in a distant land the next nutshell is in the sand
hands count the cash, a poor man's rate for another crash

 

[cascadiabound]

Brushing long tresses
Smoothing out curls and tangles
Love your caresses

 

[OtherMan]

A river stone, sitting shaped,

eroded by the flow

of eternal time, is draped

in current, wears the slow

and patient slipping of the hand,

exposed without the force,

as sediment, in current fanned,

is sent into the course.

So the stone does not just sit

as daughter of the block,

as mother molds the form of it

comes water from the rock.

 

[Lyricalli]

Mike's playing Otherside
in that magic way that acoustic
turns electric into something new
letting the words flow through
and there's no way to shake thoughts
of you, listening to one of your favorites
meditating on the phrases
that dance and tumble
between my ears

As I sit on yet another side
of the most recent iteration of us
in distant reflection of the lies
questioning which ones were mine
if what I've seen with my eyes
is coincidence or evidence

I don't need to ask if you're still a slut
when the sides of the polygon you've made
are me, you, her, her, them
and whatever remains of truth

If we could pour it all into paper cups
I'd raise mine in a toast
to every minute of the time we've had
and whatever comes next

Maybe I should believe it's bad
but I've got no room for regret
no stake in condemnation
for the crime of being flawed
and human

He slides into another song
and I'll meet him there in a minute
but I want to hold on
just a little longer
picture you in the dark
singing along with the crowd
shedding off the all the bullshit
for something that might be joy




Inspiration: "Otherside" by Red Hot Chili Peppers

 

[OtherMan]

The Boy wonders what was real
and what was hidden in
the words she said, he wrung for feel,
and he was bidden in
and in he went, abiding time,
as he was bid to do
as balanced on a thinning dime -
not heads nor tails quite true.

But truth is on the edge of things
he touched with only her
hints, much denied, and paving’s
thin path to lonelier,
he tightly upright walks between
that which was said and done
and sometimes finds a coin - its sheen
still shining in the sun.

3/3/23

 

[OtherMan]

My apologies to y’all. I’ve come late to the challenge, but since I’ve found you now… well… here they come. I place my words in your patient and understanding hands…


It takes a thousand words to splash,
for words to picture cause.
‘Tween eyes and mouth unsure in pause,
one click leads mind to dash

to words as spirit seeks to rate
in verbal art to speak,
imparting all that visual peek
just can’t articulate.

3/5/23

 

[Tzara]

Going Down on the Wife of Bath
As help me God, I was a lusty oon,
And faire, and riche, and yong, and wel bigon,
And trewely, as myne housbondes tolde me,
I hadde the beste quoniam myghte be.¹
—Chaucer: The Prologe of the Wyves Tale of Bathe

Fair Alison, whose legs are long and slim,
Let me now part your thighs and there explore
Your labia, whose sweetness I adore
And slip my tongue between them so to skim

The wet delights discovered there within.
Do not, my dear, yet force me to implore
For access to your centerpiece—wherefore
Deny this joy of which you're eponym,

These moans and sighs your husbands have produced
I can, despite my youth, evoke with skill.
Please teach how to properly seduce

Both mind and body; I shall make you thrill
And twist and writhe and come and come again.
Perhaps for me then you will do the same.



¹As help me God, I was a lusty one,
And fair, and rich, and young, and well fixed,
And truly, as my husbands told me,
I had the best pudendum that might be.

Week 10: Poem 1: Total 17

 

[OtherMan]

A blunt, articulating tongue
juices every drop of taste
of peach inside it ‘til it’s wrung
and glistening round your waist

and licking, lapping all that’s bare
then face it dares a-glaze
up with your sigh, eyes rise a stare
and into yours they gaze.

3/6/23

 

[Rockymtnman]

The last traces of the sun
are broken by the rockies
split in to many pieces
some purple, some orange
some a fiery reddish hue
as if Picasso was in charge
of the sunset tonight
patchwork and off kilter
but brilliant, nonetheless

 

[Mrtenant]

Change of Seasons

Rolling thunder for miles
Filling the land with terror
A squall line of madness
From Paris to Austin
Lightning flashes
Setting the sky aflame
And a kingdom dies
Betrayed by the greed
of faithless ministers
Casting away allies
Ruining reputations
Betraying their soldiers

Gazing at my aging fist
Clutching and unclutching
In my passion and fury
Mercenary once again
Faithful, still, is my sword
Its words scrawling red ink
Drawn from the souls
Of the lost, of lovers
Families, and treasured friends
The dead and the dying
Riding off into the storm
Enduring the maelstrom

Returning home to strangers
All with lives of their own
Whose only wonder is
Where is the plunder?
And when the storm passes
There are clear blue skies
Trees flowering in the warmth
Blossoms swirling in the wind
Wind chimes in the distance
As I sharpen my sword
In conemplation of the ink to be spilled
In the days and weeks to come

Week 10, poem 1, total 15

 

[OtherMan]

The trees are rutting everywhere -
they even hump in my back yard,
and the blossoms in my garden
they play so pure and wet and hard,

and the bees are getting frisky
from rubbing gentle stamen juts,
and their interruption risky
if stopped before, they load their butts.

So the sex is spreading mellow,
and softly, open petals yield,
and the world has turned all yellow
from flowers fucking in the field.

3/6/23

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Oh boy, did you save the date?
I think we should now celebrate.

It might be one of these days
when some may find the chance
to take a hand and lead the dance
if anything would block their ways.

Oh boy, wouldn't you hate
if you forget to save the date?

There is small change but no big bills
so please pay...attention to the gap
and let us take a bigger step
out of the valleys and over the hills.

Oh boy, did your best mate
as well remember the date?

The math of ones looks oh so straight
but thinking of family values
this is, at least, a game of twos
or even more to shoulder the weight.

Oh boy, it's still not too late
to go and look up this date.

I'm sure you found the hints and links
where each and all of your fantasies
is on display, but could you please
consider a second half of naughty kinks.

Oh, boys, it's, by the way
International Women's Day!

 

[OtherMan]

A scalpel’s honest, quick, and clean
and just leaves a thinning scar.
If heart a-sliced is where you lean,
it’s the better cut by far.

But if you want true man to taunt
and prolong your choice to make,
I’ll take the blame (it rends the same).
Scrape and yank it out with rake.

3/7/23

 

[Angeline]

Girl Group Ghazal

Three girls are singing their doo wop songs
about kisses, sweet love's shoo bop songs

Sparkly tight dresses, bouffants, high heels
and dance steps might make some hit pop songs

Summer nights on my fire escape
I'd dream to the radio's top songs

While the girls gave advice, treat him nice,
it's in his kiss, hey la don't stop songs

I practiced line dances, knew them all--
do the chez vous, Philly dog, slop songs

Those girls are my sisters, Dixie Cups,
Chantals, Marvelettes, at the hop songs



Week 10, Poem 1, Total Poems 14

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Week 10 Poem 16

Wreck beach

Not easy to find,
hidden below the halls
of academe that is UBC,
down tricky scree, sand
awaits and freedom
from your clothes.

No one judges,
compares breasts
or Johnson size,
a body’s a body,
let it all hang out.
Its what you do,
on Wreck Beach.

The warm breeze
on Winter waxen flesh
that hasn’t felt it
since last summer,
is intoxicating, seductive,
addictive. Even the skimpiest
bikini deters that feeling
of euphoric freedom.

 

[OtherMan]

GuiltyPleasure’s “winter waxen flesh”…

Just… fucking awesome words!

Here’s my contribution…


Shattered, I’m just alive with breath…
now, I barely even smoke.
That can , at least, keep me from death…
what a sickened fuckin’ joke.

That single sin, bad habit, crutch…
as a need for seems abate.
A cigarette… no need for such,
and so now I masturbate.

And this is what heartbreak can do
to provide now idle hands
something to hold and make it through…
at least part of me still stands.
3/5/23

 

[OtherMan]

The thoughts, more daintier than blunt,
ten thousand times a day,
smack back of eyes that, facing front,
seize words they want to say.

Hard, harsh ones, though, are never seen
(although they have been writ),
but shine on screen in profane sheen
that holds the worst of it.

3/9/23

No clue the week. But that’s 8. Gotta be gettin’ close to caught up.

 

[goddessofglee]

9#52

not yet...
my anger is yet to subside,
if he does,
many more of those,
I'll think of a pleasurable thought,
of pleasing you
with the o-ring
he and the others
conveniently used...

now eversince the abuse
like he, and the other,
haven't written too!
maybe as he did,
the other is,
in fact, both are...
hiding behind
their guilt-covered wall!
the one they used,
to jerk upon!

horrific,
but I've been through it...
conversely,
on the contrary,
now...
how silly of me,
I'm getting myself to live
those few dreadful nights...
how stupid can I be!

 

[Wonderer67]

Good Therapy

Morning clouds scud by
Light pink in the 6:48 light
Eyes barely open
Off to the farm
A warm February morning
Tastes of spring in the air
Splitting firewood
Dead ash
Good therapy
To hear the gurgle of the stream
And the rewarding
Ker-chunk of the axe

10/52

 

[Tzara]

To Another Poet

I cannot talk to you,
or even wave across
our particular borders.

If, though, I could,
I wouldn't be asking you
to sleep with me.

Rather, I might like
to talk about a book
or a poem we both enjoyed.

That physical thing
would come later,
if it ever, finally, came.

When I say, I want
to touch you, it really
means our thoughts entwine.

Though it also implies bodies,
and however neutral I want to be,
I must admit, yours is fine.

Week 10: Poem 2: Total 18

 

[Ambient4190]

flutter long lashes thrice
prompts ai husky vocal sound
love how do you want the world today
pink and blue she purrs and stretches
view adapts
prismatic world overlaps
ai ubiquitous presence
for tickling senses

chatting day away news photos messages
images flashed in corner of lens
dinner ai plans
evening before she retires
romantic ambience reveals
ai timeless melodies
prescribed male digital image
likeness of one she cherished

 

[OtherMan]

There are waters that dilute me…
twice crossed the Mississip’
as guided there once blindly
and bid to take a sip,

but instead drank deep the water
by bluff and and under hill
and drowned within a daughter
of Natchez to my fill,

and now I sit in waters high
that flowing long to roam
to city next to river by
the place she calls her home.

3/9/23

Week 10 - #9

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Once upon a time​

I received your key​

that made me see​

to a heart, not mine​

Slightly scratched and not from first hand
the blades still matched their locks well
both, yours and mine, and then, over time
the cuts wore off from steady use
we learned to twist and play with the bow
some jiggling here, some patience there
until the pins aligned at last

Twice, we've got a box​

for Mums and Dads​

the beginners sets​

to make new locks​

Working on their complex shape
the keyring, ever since, rattles its song
the brand new blanks need polishing
that's what they say in the manuals
how we wish it would rub off more
easily so some distant day we can
hand them over, a gift to hold on

One faraway day ​

our mission done​

this ring will be gone​

at the last doorway.​