Dirty 30 in 30

[UnderYourSpell]

He's not getting under my skin I am laughing at him and thinking he should get a life if this is how he gets his jollies lol but thankyou for your spirited defence after all that's your job now and yes I did save Safe Bet's outpourings she's a cracker that girl and it's not going to be wasted!

 

[ArnoldSnarb]

.....

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Roflllllll you hooked me from the first line 'lonely as a clod' mind you I will never look at a daffodil in quite the same light again!

 

[unpredictablebijou]

He's not getting under my skin I am laughing at him and thinking he should get a life if this is how he gets his jollies lol but thankyou for your spirited defence after all that's your job now and yes I did save Safe Bet's outpourings she's a cracker that girl and it's not going to be wasted!

Uh-oh FIGHT!

*giggling*

Annie, not to stir shit or anything, but here's a perfect example of a language barrier.

Here in America, "cracker" is a racist term for a 'white' person. Kinda like the opposite of the n-word.

On the other hand, within this context, I'd find it awfully flattering if YOU called me that, since I can parse what it means here. So that's why I'm giggling, given that this whole thing stirred up over name calling. Frankly, I read that post several times and I just wasn't clear what was being said anyway, so I figured I'd just move on.

Arnold, it's excellent to see you. I'd been sorta wondering where you were too. I hope my latest submissions please your ear.

And SB, sweet one, that spitfire spirit is going to serve you well. You and I have been to the same place, and if you need me, I'm around, okay? Bless you. Bless you all.

*spikes the bistro coffee urn with mild laxatives and Valium*

bj

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Oooooops! well over here a cracker is something that's the best you can get and is used as a compliment can also mean a girl that's good looking.
Erm I hope the laxatives and Valium are for 'guests' (I use the term loosely) that wander in and leave me so underwhelmed

 

[The_Fool]

I have only found words
for just one story.
Which one should I tell?

 

[UnderYourSpell]

11

A broken spirit leaves jagged edges
shattered mirror memories
that linger distorted
and misshapen,
haunted cobwebs stretch
to catch unwary moments
images of a bygone time
when you loved me.

 

[The_Fool]

If there are no words,
how can one explain
smiles,
tears,
both at once?

 

[sassynyc]

Uh-oh FIGHT!

*giggling*

Annie, not to stir shit or anything, but here's a perfect example of a language barrier.

Here in America, "cracker" is a racist term for a 'white' person. Kinda like the opposite of the n-word.

*double giggles* My first thought was "them's fightin' words!"
Crap, the stuff I miss when I'm absent from class!
I just saw this, and couldn't help laughing. I'm guessing UYS meant it sort of like "fire cracker" or "spitfire". In any case, we know she's not the facetious type (unless attacked, then the fangs come out, for good reason).

I know I'm a few days late, but y'all put a smile on my face anyway. I'll try to keep up.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

It's not as bad as hmmnn saying in a thread about being bummed! Over here that has a quite different meaning of a homosexual nature!

 

[UnderYourSpell]

12

Morning breaks,
the crack of dawn spreads
wantonly across the sky,
inviting sunshine to drip
sensually through every
cloud orifice.
Coating the world with
her nectar.

Blame Sassy and Sqoodd!

 

[unpredictablebijou]

#17

animals in fire 2


I saw a man, his charred profile backlit, a king
with a noble forehead, a lover in blue flame.
Like the light of a screen in a darkened room
that blue, that secretive blue glow
and the man's two mouths, the mouth in the belly too,
that deep voice speaking, lips that flicker.
Dark is best seen by a single light
a blue square, a single flame.

And then the flame seemed to go out
and creep like little ghosts to a new place
two halves, little fish
drawn by currents of air, upward. I knew then.
A flame goes blue and down, into the narrow smoke
a terrible sadness, an ash that will burn
invisibly, for days under deceptive white.

I have seen it burn badly, this hidden coal,
flameless, disguised by daylight.


.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

#18



oh distant and invisible, you are divinity
in some bright way you'll never understand.
Your distance makes you clean;
you move through alphabet and light, all brackets
round the heart. So let me open and allow your dreaming eyes
to be in concert with the rosy and resistant flesh
of sacrifice and flame. Let it seem in sleep
that somewhere on the bones of this whole globe,
another place along the same wide spine
of stone and trembling nerve,
along the roots of water in the aquifer
you feel it too: this drop, this string of pearls
that slides along the neck,
this red hot lotus of the singing sun, the shift and slide
of all these rocky thoughts, your days blessed by invisibility.

And in the solitude between the dual darks,
the place that happened and the place that waits,
all lit with purple from the deepest mind
you'll see the inner petals of the night-blue rose
Surrender. Losing every word except the skin and hands
and breaking on the purest wheel of love and rage, you hear
and speak the language of the central flute, linguistics of the spine.
What consonants do these bright horse shoe bones contain?
What mantras do they hum when your bright cock is filling up the sun
all through your head and into god?



.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

#19


(make) the red noise (now)

I will pull it through your mouth:
the voice of that red flesh, the volcano tone
of the rise and sting. It must be thick, genuine,
all sharp surprise, the slick report
of a strike, the startled moan. Music in the gasp
sound in love with skin, a cord struck, echoing.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

#20

Kneeling addictive cord, whipsharp hungry boy
my slip-cracked line, my cut of word
and sharp exchange of skin and warmer skin,
bright as paper, your edge is sharper
for the scrape and splinter of the nail.

All surrendered to a random hand, trust, but do not trust
these circles within which fire reigns and stays.
In this clean and stone-wrapped sphere, this hand
makes strike and heat the ritual and sanctifies the rage

like the pure heart of the meat eater in winter
whom we do not judge for the justified blood,
essential food, when nothing else will keep us
hot or here alive.



.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

#21

Lingua 2

Yes, open, and let me place the rounded tip of the tongue
sweet against the teeth. This sound, the cooling hiss of breath
inhaled, quick, and the press of tight lip against the hard smooth field
Kiss, to say yes, when you cannot speak. Kiss the sweep of the hand
the chain's bright chill, kiss the cool bite of strap and cord,
kiss the air lashing the teeth, kiss the heat that brings you up
an arch, a bridge from hand to hand, from candy heart
and into candy mind. Kiss that mint hiss of startle
as it comes down on the tip, again, and wait, breathless
for that bright and wakened strike.




.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Goodness you are going ahead apiece I will be in here talking to myself soon!

 

[UnderYourSpell]

13 an apt number

To try a different path
seeking new horizons
stumbling over hidden rocks
leads only to that
hidden city Confusion
and turning back
pass through the gateway
of Loss.

 

[champagne1982]

#21 -- Lingua 2

Yummy kisses, upbj. Why did you decide disembody teeth and tongue? It gives a kind of cold feeling to this oh so, otherwise, passionate piece. You use the teeth twice and that emphasizes the impersonal impression I get from the terminology. If you don't want to name who these teeth and tongue belong to, just drop the article entirely, maybe? You don't mind addressing "you" and with a kiss, I'd prefer reading that I'm kissing a person rather than the anatomy of a kiss. Might be a personal failing but there we have it.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Yummy kisses, upbj. Why did you decide disembody teeth and tongue? It gives a kind of cold feeling to this oh so, otherwise, passionate piece. You use the teeth twice and that emphasizes the impersonal impression I get from the terminology. If you don't want to name who these teeth and tongue belong to, just drop the article entirely, maybe? You don't mind addressing "you" and with a kiss, I'd prefer reading that I'm kissing a person rather than the anatomy of a kiss. Might be a personal failing but there we have it.

I think you're right and I'm going to bash on the articles and pronouns now. In fact I'm not wildly fond of the line divisions either.

There's a bit of intention to "objectify" the one being addressed, but not in a bad way, if that makes any sense. And I do find that one of the things I end up addressing with rough drafts is repetition; I get all hot on an idea and then end up saying it seventeen times in a row. So. Less teeth, and more you, if I have the drift of your suggestion.

Right on, baby. and thank you. And I don't think wanting to kiss actual people is a personal failing. Some of my best friends are actual people, after all.

And Annie, not to worry, I'll keep you company. This is a much better rhythm for me than one poem every day, obviously. But I won't leave you all alone in here if I finish early. In some contexts, finishing early is rather a faux pas anyway. I try to avoid it when possible.

bj

 

[sassynyc]

Morning breaks,
the crack of dawn spreads
wantonly across the sky,
inviting sunshine to drip
sensually through every
cloud orifice.
Coating the world with
her nectar.

Blame Sassy and Sqoodd!

always amused to be a muse.

i am cheering for you all from the sidelines whenever i get a chance to peek in the door. bj, 4 in a day? you are poetry on steroids.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

always amused to be a muse.

i am cheering for you all from the sidelines whenever i get a chance to peek in the door. bj, 4 in a day? you are poetry on steroids.

Actually five, but who's counting. "Poetry on steroids" is a hoot of a phrase. Sig line fodder, even.

Yeah, this method works really well for me; I get a chance to write every three or four days, much less often than I'd like, but then it all just pours for a while. So it's a good rhythm, at least for me. Nice to be able to take a day or two to fall back and reload, as it were.

Thanks for the waving of pompoms. It's far less brave than the formal 30 in 30, but it's still a bit of discipline to do 30 poems in a specific time...

and Annie:

this one is just lovely and poignant. I liked it much.

To try a different path
seeking new horizons
stumbling over hidden rocks
leads only to that
hidden city Confusion
and turning back
pass through the gateway
of Loss.

bj

 

[unpredictablebijou]

#22

When she lets me there
for W.W.

My hand sees cream, a sweep of hill and trackless white,
fingers in pale weave, a road of rolling sting
above the stretch of shoulder. This tightened muscle knows
a sharp and single focus, one shot of the rose.
Captured in the shock and cruise, in slanted light,
your hands find one another, full of fluttering nothing.

Your red heart slapped and burning, bright as a drawn bowstring
a wire gasp and slickened swordpoint bends your spine,
and leaping up to heat, you snap the archer's pose
drawn under in the focus of the shadowed rose.
Arch tight as a sail, pulled and filled, grow wings,
plains of back and arm civilized by the straight red line.

With tighten and bright snap, the arrow made of sound
shot from the tongue, with breath and steel I bind
you to your skin, and smooth low flesh to the divide,
and cracking like a flag, you lean into the ride
and nothing now but hunger keeps your body bound,
streched wide against the force of elemental mind.


..

 

[UnderYourSpell]

14

Do you see me
the woman I am now,
why try to change me?
after I fought so hard
escaping
to hold my head high,
look in my eyes
respect my battles
and see a survivor.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

15

A standing prick
has no conscience
when the cowpers flows
and she offers what I can't,
do you push to the back
of your mind
the one who loves you?
Once called soulmate lost
to a moments pleasure
think not with lust
but with your heart