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30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

2-8

Take Five Fibs

Take
two
planets.
Study their
sophisticated
dance around the same blinding star,
their sweet harmony
orbiting
in sync
and
time.

*
They
fly
as one
high vision.
Brubeck and Desmond,
rhythm and melody in play
like chimes meet the wind
arranging
patterns
of
song.

*
Paul
is
a stork:
tall, thin and
professorial,
distant and reedy a light-winged
tone like an angel's
fluting song,
precise
but
soft.

*
Sounds
like
genius--
stomp, finesse
impeccable how
Dave's ranch and city coalesce
in America
uniquely
we sing
that
way.

*
Some
times
I think
of that day
when first these strange birds
recognized they were of the same
feather, then I quit
supposing
and close
my
eyes.





https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jOiAN2BZEA
 
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1-28

Surreal Poem No. T

Are we hollow men? I say nay
because it takes a brain to play
lobbygow for lobbyists

whose quid pro quo is silverware,
for a House divided can not stand
plastic, but for the newly elected

until they're sophomoric men
at which time we'll lobby for them
the lobbyists for more silverware,

and lest I forget the ladies,
I will gladly yield to that redhead from
Florida. I think she said Florida.
 
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2-9

The Sinus Dilemma

Mama said I have holes in my head: wish they were filled with sand instead.
 
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1-29

Duluth

I felt her horns through the telephone wire:
"Truth is beauty, beauty truth,"
Nan, who left me for Jerry Dubois,
wanted her money early again,

"His snowplow hit the ground at dawn,
and he salted past sundown, Larry.
Jerry can spread up to 20 feet wide,
3 lanes if he wanted to."

I kept our photograph there by my phone
in the rendered city of Pompano
where once we sought the fountain of youth,
she the more palmy in her bikini

and like the glasses you leave on your head
and look all over the house for
all of a sudden I discovered
I was the only one smiling,

and that was all I needed to know
of truth as beauty, beauty truth
and Nan who now lives up in Duluth
as I cradled an ice cold telephone.
 
2-10

Terry's Tune

Oh
my
darling
what do I
do on the long days
that fill my eyes and drag my feet
when everything
that is good
brings me
to
you?
 
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3-1

GOTO Statement Considered Harmful
for E. W. Dijkstra (1930-2002)

Do not GO GENTLE_INTO_THAT_GOODNIGHT
for it may lead some programmers astray.
The lack of linearity's a fright

for maintenance of code that isn't quite
straightforward as a logical array.
Do not go gentle into that good night

without reworking algorithms right
by using subroutines in such a way
that program linearity's no fright.

And if that means you have to overwrite
some clever hack that's sweet as rose sachet,
it must go gently into that good night

for comprehensibility's delight.
Your code should be as cold as a cliché—
no lack of linearity's affright

tormenting some raw intern out of spite.
Have pity on the youth's naïveté.
A lack of linearity's a fright;
do not GO GENTLE_INTO_THAT_GOODNIGHT.
 
1-30

Coffee Clatch with the Virgin Mary

"Chock Full o' Nuts is that heavenly coffee."*

You and I were naked I said, so what?
He's all upset, fig leaves first,
followed with hides I had to sew,
and the boys started stalking the cat.

But honor the father, right?
Anyhow, I figured it out,
seems like it took forever.
They wouldn't let girls read or write.

It's easy then to call me a slut
and thereafter any woman the same
when we can't sass back in their holy book.

Ever wonder who wrote this stuff
and if they ever got laid?

*
http://youtu.be/DqHGuv_-DFA
 
2-11

National Pastime

Boston heads to Tampa Bay. Spring training is almost here. Wish I was.
 
3-2

Box Office Dominatrix:
'Fifty Shades' Surges Friday
for Possible $85M U.S. Debut
—Headline from The Hollywood Reporter

Imagine that! the critics bray
of filmdom's Fifty Shades of Grey,
a film they did not like (and which
consensus seems to brand as kitsch).
Most recommend you stay away

from Christian's Red Room where the play
is mildly shocking, "come" what may,
as he hits Ana with a switch.
Imagine that!

But to these critics' mild dismay,
the film, perhaps because risqué,
has hearts aflutter and atwitch
(as well as soaking other bits)
in fantasizing "I obey."
Imagine that!
 
2-12

Blah Blah Blah

Too much talk and not enough metaphor drains my muse: just write some poems.
 
3-3

Poem for William Logan
Poetry is the easiest of the arts, next to painting.
Any fool can write poetry, and many fools do.
—William Logan: The Undiscovered Country: Poetry in the Age of Tin

Some like the older forms the best,
That steady meter, zing of rhyme.
It helps some readers to digest
My poems, meat that is not Prime

And, sad to say, much overcooked,
Or elsewise frozen—cold and hard.
My café's never overbooked.
I've reservations by the yard.
 
3-4

ornamental plum
limbs spread in slanted light
flashing some pink


.
 
2-13

He
ate.
Juice beads
his chin his
cheeks slack and sated.
He opens her lips--Delicious
he whispers to her,
forgive me
but she
just
smiles.
 
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3-5

Reference Librarian, 3:15 PM, Finals Week

I watch her at her desk. As still as night
she sits, quietly reading a short novel
in French about a failed love affair
and class differences, an allegory
for post-colonial guilt and the need
to find a deeper meaning in life
than simple Tinder-mediated sex
and oddly-colored cocktails. I want
to sit with her in a street-side café
reading Baudelaire together, smoking
Gauloises shaken from a crumpled blue pack,
sipping cups of dark and heavy coffee.
But she will finish her book and go home
and I go back to studying Rousseau.

.
 
2-14

American Trio

My imagination is limited only by optimism.

Trees fall every day, so who cares whether or not they make a sound?

My reason wants to curl around you and suffocate your obstinance.
 
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3-6

Uncertainty

I want you to ask me for them, these little scraps of paper: love poems.

.
 
2-15

And Counting

Maybe after a year I might feel I've survived letting go of you.
 
3-7

Cultivation

Here I gather my bouquet for you: words and words and words. Red roses.
 
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3-8

Advice

Her figure's lovely when she's bending
to mop her elder child's spill
up off the floor. That brat's been sending
his liquids there almost at will.
Her curves do set my heart aflutter,
my lower parts begin to mutter
in ancient tongues engraved in brass
quite unclean thoughts of her sweet ass.
But then her younger one starts wailing
because she's hungry, needs a change,
or simply misses Mommy. Strange
how kids can set desire sailing.
So, if young mothers spark your lust,
hey! Babysitters are a must.



Kinda for Champie, and her BILF poems, though different.
 
3-9

for moon_spirit: a reply

A woman looks well in a thong,
in fact quite sexy, yes indeed.
That scrap of clothing won't take long
to get guys going, guaranteed.

But lace bikinis work as well
or bloomers, even. Do not scoff.
The secret is, my sleek gazelle,
your undies look best coming off.


Originally posted here.
 
3-10

Ohm's Law

Let's be direct. I want your body.
But, oddly it's not anybody
Who might appear beneath me. Ah!
I am resisted by V/R.

.
 
3-11

Poems

I think my life will never be
Transformed by reading poetry

Like this one, whose unartful smart
Perhaps leaves tread marks on the art

That Keats and Shelley, Coleridge
Have left us, ice pops in the fridge

Of something wonderful—a drink.
Their words, quite lovely. Made us think.
 
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3-12

Love Letters

They, of course, just spill my love, like bodily fluids except in words.
 
3-13

Romance Novel

He's handsome, rich, and proud. so "suitor"
suits his storytelling fate.
She's cute. Their meet-up, though, is cuter
than a bug. They separate.
The reason's usually something trifling,
a plot-point musket with no rifling
to sail the slug of True Love through
their target wedding. No boo-hoo
for now we get a new knight-errant
who seems the perfect match for her.
Alas! We find out he's a cur
(quite near the end it's made apparent).
Guy One returns, much chastened, red.
They're reunited, off to b-wed.

.
 
3-14

Social Media

An apple and a dinosaur
are on my desk. The first I eat.
The other raises, lunges, and
is just so cute I have to tweet

his photograph out to my posse
(which is not large as yet, but there
are indications it is growing).
I will be famous. That I swear.

.
 
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