It's the 2025 Poem-A-Week Challenge! (This is a *poems only* thread.)

[Lily Peg]

Whirligig

Press your face against the window
Hold the toy and dance the day
Push your tiny hand into the box
Taste the rain - run out to play
Watch the trees swing and creak
See the leaves cross the earth
Smell the fungi, soil and damp
Hear the rushing, hustling surf
Run the path and race the line
Spin the toy held in your hand
Sail the windmill, ground the flower
Spin the toy at your command

Words do whirl and interlard
Thoughts change, images break
Like our toys and our hearts
Take on different meanings sake
Ideas, wisdom, common sense
Fail by the wayside in absent time
Toy in hand spin with the wind
Watch the cycles, catch the rhyme

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

Move Fast. Break Things.

With a face like cardboard
the special Government
Employee’s email, tells me
I don’t need a spare tyre,
the A.I says it’s awful, think
of the planet, a spare tyre is
a fraud, you don’t need fraud
it is wasteful to carry excess
rubber in your trunk.

The very next day, the email
asks my handbrake to justify
what it did last week? It goes
on to declare failure to justify
will result in being semi-fired
which means kind of fired?

The day after that the traffic
lights are fired. I am informed
traffic lights are corrupt, they
can’t be trusted. Who controls
them? They are evidence of
intrusion in our lives. People
don’t like them.

They are Right. Traffic lights
are mindless bureaucracy!

&
what do I know? I’m not a car
Mechanic? Intersections don’t
design cars. People will work
intersections out with common
sense and horns.

Grownups and intersections
don’t need oversight.

The next day, I notice my brakes
are missing, I am told; going fast
is good for chainsaw business!

I am petrified. I can’t move. There
is no longer a brake pedal. How
will I pump the breaks when wet?
My husband says, don’t be silly,
just think of it like being fucked
in the ass.


Week 8, Poem 1, Total 9

 

[Lily Peg]

Academic Pandemic

Theorise - debate
Technologise fate
Emphasise calling
Patriarchal state

Formulate each star
Defend the nearest war
Decorate and honour
Quantify nature's law

Operationalise the terms
Categorise each part
Reduce feelings to an object
Cognition without heart

Clarify the aims
Maximise the gains
Validate or ruminate
Academic brains

Practice the sci-ence
From an ivory tower
Load up the waggons
With knowledge=power

 

[Bn2f]

The Sustenance You Seek


Surrender
I submit
Unto my back lying prone
Cartilage and bone - the hot blood sustenance you seek
You beast

Eat.
Eat me all.
Feast on this body
Take me raw, swallow my whole
Carnivore

Finished
I’m beyond done
Wrinkled sheets, sweat stains the remains
Nothing left in wake of you for scrap seeking scavengers
Praise! Hail! The apex predator

 

[Angeline]

America

The flag and anthem remain but the concept is evaporating.


Week 8, Poem 1, Total 9

 

[D_K_Moon]

Voices In Dreams

Voices in dreams,
Words I cannot understand,
Faces hidden,
Always looking away,
Dreams I cannot remember,
Feelings of being,
Empty and alone.

 

[Wonderer67]

Suicide Road

I drove home
On suicide road

I shoulda known better

But I proved I could do it
Over and over

The night was approaching
A February orange sunset
Off to my left
Striated clouds
Slate gray
Between orange and the blue of night

Intersecting with the dying color
Of farm field after farm field

An Ocean Between Us by
The War on Drugs was playing on my playlist
Gentle on my ears
And tranquil on my soul

A perfect soundtrack

I’d beaten it again

https://imgur.com/a/tW2DH9b

 

[Tzara]

Koi Pond

its surface stippled
by soft rain and undulant
from the slow shifting
of their sleek bodies beneath—
there, the bright flash of color!

Week 9 : Poem 1 : Total 9

 

[Wonderer67]

The Most Februaryest Day Ever

It was light out
But the sun never shone

The sun barely scraped against the horizon
I could hear it
Distant iron oxide rasping against
The edges of mother earth

There were no bright colors
Just blonde cornfields
Fuzzy with stubble
Sticking above the dirty snow

Brown trees of the woods
Scratching at the clouds
The vanishing plane between earth and sky

In the midst of this
I split kindling
Making big logs
Into smaller logs

A prisoners task?

Then those small logs were split
Into the thinnest strips
And sticks
I could manage with my axe
And hatchet

A hypnotic endeavor

I achieved some higher state

I could see my breath
And didn’t feel cold

Rather, I felt warm
Full

I wasn’t blowing out the fires
I was ready to start them

It was the most February day imaginable
And I celebrated it
Cuz, fuck
Tomorrow might not ever come

6/52

 

[LustyScribe]

The Unliving Room
Alone at last in the living room
I hear the house heave a sigh
As if it feels my sense of doom
As if it senses time go by.

Why do we call this room that?
This isn’t life, and it isn't giving
Me memories I'll look back at
When I'm almost done living.

Roku, YouTube, and Hulu too;
Other people's thoughts and dreams
Their sins and stuff they've been through;
Lives they've lived for me, it seems.

I should get up, get up and out,
I need to breathe, walk, have fun
I think I'll see what life's about
Once I finish the Lost reruns

Week 9, poem 1, total 9

 

[Angeline]

Hollywood, Florida 1960

We walked
under vibrant blue skies
listening to the ocean
calling us louder, louder
until we arrived, waves
welcoming us like thunder,
but fizzy in bubbly giggles
around me when I sat,
ecstatic toes dug in wet sand.

You'd read your Daily Forward,
spectacles perched on your nose
and I'd collect shells, watch hermit crabs
scuttle then disappear. It was magical,

green-blue forevers stretching
to the horizon, birds shrieking
and coconut lotion smells, flip flop
walks and pineapple spears
from a fruit stand, a world

of oranges and jars of honey, waxy
bits of hive sunk in them like treasure
in those long ago grandfather days
recollected from another century.



Week 9, Poem 1, Total 10

 

[Bn2f]

PHUCANCER


I’m done receiving offerings of earnest prayers.
I’m not impressed by news of upcoming medical advances.
Growth, by any other measure, would be a good thing,
But today my son should be 8.
I miss his goofy face and made up dances.

I found my middle school bully on Facebook
And reached out to bury my anger and be friendly.
Looking gaunt, she said she was thankful to be in remission.
Even revisiting a pain still raw
I wouldn’t wish your affliction on any of my worst enemies.

Knowledge of your existence adds to my fears of seeing a doctor.
I sense your exuberance to show yourself upon my latest breast exam.
Unimaginable! Desiring myself to kill! Yet…
I wish you breathing life like the lives you’ve taken,
So to strangle your cell dead with my bare hands.

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

‘The Art Of The Meal’

Nobody needs a kitchen when you already have a dining room.

Week 9, Poem 1, Total 10

 

[D_K_Moon]

Forbidden Thoughts

I want to - touch you,
My words,
They whisper,
What I want,
Desire,
My pen,
Is my finger,
Touching,
With my words,
Arousing,
Forbidden words,
Secrets,
Wanton thoughts,
Expressing,
A need,
A hunger,
Feel my thoughts,
My words,
My pen,
My finger,
Touching,
There.

 

[Tzara]

On the Process of Composition

Raindrops, window pane,
my keyboard quiescent.

I sip some more tea
and wait for one bright image
to nestle here on my desk.
​

Week 10 : Poem 1 : Total 10

 

[Bn2f]

Bonnie & Clyde


Distinction between what is fog, what is clear
Chose you to burn from fear of coffin
To rest in urn these tears come often
And truth on my sleeve responds to the fear…

What becomes of the memories of one when there’s no mourning place to be visited?
Under the night’s skies and beneath waterfalls hold the echoing scenes of our lust
Bonnie and Clyde would envy the heated crimes of spontaneity committed by us
Alas, it now remains solely in my heart and mind that you once existed.

 

[Lazaran]

Fates of Muses

Where have they gone
Those happy muses
That once inspired
Destroyed by war
Displaced by Fire
Deported by ICE

So much loss
So much lost

Shame!!!

 

[LustyScribe]

Spring Rises and Falls
When I was a rising bud,
Spring was life itself
A million greens,
Blue, a gateway to
A universe unexplored.
Scent of East Texas pines.
Freedom, fun

When I knew everything
As good teens do,
Spring was love itself.
Hemlines rose
Lifting my pulse
In every smile
Hope? Does she...?

And then THAT Spring
When Consequences came
Knocking incessantly,
Yelling, "Choose! Choose!"
Pressure, pressure
Every failure fatal
To my future,

Yet...I survived

When I was boring,
Spring dreaded Summer
Children with time to play
Too many bills to pay
Vacation? Sorry...again
Florida's April a furnace
Spring a gate to Hell.
Come, Fall! Winter!

When I got old
Spring became victory
A notch on the time's belt.
Winter's death of green
A sign of a future
Not distant, not far enough
Each snow a blanket
Which with time
Would cover my memory
Obscuring me
Promising me
Of an end;
No more Springs.

But not yet.

Week 10, poem 1, total...10?

 

[SmallTownKink]

Sharing wife's delight
Pleasure in another's arms
Love's open flame burns

 

[SmallTownKink]

Innocent smile creeps
Fresh intern's subtle advance
Boss's heart beats fast

Midnight office nights
Whispers sweet, and fingers touch
Boundaries blur slow

Power dynamics
Shift as intern takes control
Boss's will bends weak

Seduction's subtle
Art of gentle, sweet deceit
Intern's gentle kiss

Secrets in the hall
Whispers of their hidden sin
Boss's heart ensnared

 

[SmallTownKink]

A young woman, 21 and free,
My daughter's friend, and a sight to see,
Her petite frame, a delicate form divine,
Inviting my gaze, and stirring a desire that's mine.

Her small breasts, a gentle swell, like a rose in bloom,
A promise of sweetness, that makes my heart feel like it's in the room,
Her narrow waist, a wasp's sting, that draws me in with a sigh,
A fragile, feminine form, that makes me want to touch and explore her sky.

Her long legs, a slender stride, that eats up the floor,
A confident gait, that shows she's a woman, and not a girl anymore,
Her round ass, a peachy delight, that bounces with each step,
A sensual treat, that makes my cock twitch and leap.

Her bright eyes, a sparkling fire, that dances with glee,
A siren's call, that beckons me, to come and set her free,
Her lips, a rosebud's promise, that invites me to take a kiss,
A temptation that's hard to resist, and a desire that I must confess.

Oh, young woman, with your tiny hands and feet,
You're a temptation, that I dare not speak,
A forbidden fruit, that's hanging from the tree,
A dirty desire, that's eating away at me.

But I must resist, the urges that I feel,
For you're my daughter's friend, and a relationship that's real,
I'll hide my lust, and pretend that it's not there,
Unless I find, those dirty thoughts we share.

 

[Tzara]

Untitled

I imagine her
alone in her bedchamber
hoping he will come

while I wait out in the rain
dreaming about her body
​

Week 11 : Poem 1 : Total 11

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

The Slippery Slope

His ice cream melts in my
hand. He is slippery, slipping
in between my wedding and
lite slippery fingers.

Week 10 : Poem 1 : Total 11

 

[Tzara]

Sedōka

here in her garden
watching for the lit candle
that is her invitation

​

preferring sorrow,​

I will sit still in darkness​

for true love is despairing​

​

Week 11 : Poem 2 : Total 12

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

Falling asleep thinking of Bad Mr Silver Fox.

Butterfly wings nightly in the ruminating cavity
between my ears. Resplendent in pink ribbons
I called my head my bedroom back then. My legs
enthralled by thoughts of you, shirt off working on
your motocycle. I dreamed you were waiting for
my teen light to go green, and in my day dreams
the mystery of your hairy chest, broad back long
legs and oh so clever manly hands.

Week 11 : Poem 1 Total 12