Tsotha's bizarro tesseracting bazaar (real horrorshow)

Tsotha

donnyQ
Joined
Aug 4, 2013
Posts
1,462
...also known as, where I paste everything I've written for archival, including what I really, really wish I hadn't. These are in the order I've written them (or very closely in order), from the first I've ever written in English to the most recent. I'll also mark some of them with a :). The smile simply means I feel there is some redeeming quality to it.

Quoting greenmountaineer: don't feel it's necessary to comment or even read additions to this thread, but if you do, constructive feedback is always welcome.
 
1. Writing live :)
There is dust
Over my eyes and over my skin
Like a shell
I do not walk, I do not see
I stumble

Along the coast I find a boat
New, found, precious
(Old, lost, forgotten)
And it fills me
With fear and wonder

With my eyes closed,
It could take me
Anywhere
To a different time, to a different place
(It could take me to you)

Ropes like strings
And masts that clack
And a sail that sings complete
My symphony in a storm

Cold rain washes my face
Breaks me down, clears my eyes
Builds me up
Brings me closer
To you

2. Writing live
Beyond the door
(I know)
Anchored together
Swaying, pulsing
Bending, not breaking
Warmth at the core
And the beginning of things
Beautiful

3. Writing live
Oh?
Isn't it tragic
That one man's mountain
Is another man's treasure?
Nevermind, keep digging
'Till the digging is done
And then start again
Just for pleasure

4. Writing live
A sudden slope,
a sudden turn
A way to see, a way to act
A way to amuse, to enact?
To risk, to gamble?
To dance, to compete?
To give latitude, breadth? Breath?
Succor? Sustenance?
Fun?

5. Writing live
A wave of darkest blue
Woven through with black
Inside a silent heart
With a gesture you could break it
With mere words you could break it
And if you won't, I will

6. Writing live
I went out into the night
And got myself a sweet kiss
I kept it simple, and I kept it clear
Nothing in here, nothing to miss
What more can I say
No light, no day,
within, without,
No love, not here,
Not there, not anywhere
I went out into the night
And I gave love a poisonous kiss

7. Writing live
Hello, December
Please roll on, please let me sleep
Please move on, please move quick
Stay behind, please don't leave
Cover me up, lay me down
Whatever, just please be swift

8. Writing live
I put myself in orbit, just for fun
And far away so I could see
A million things that I can't tell you,
Things I can't understand,
Things you won't miss

9. Writing live
Build up, build up
A crescendo within you
Dream on, pump your love
With hot, boiling passion, and giving
Smear it with truth, pave it with feeling
Go you hollow thing, you tainted shell of a man
You Neanderthal, you fool, ungentle giant, smoldering feet
Crushing twigs and everything and more beneath like a monster
Build yourself a house of cards, a cave, spend yourself, cave in, just die
Swiftly.

10. Writing live
If truth sets you free
Why does it feel so cold?
Why does it feel like a knife
Slicing, cutting in,
To the heart of things,
To what is beneath,
And hidden?

If lies are chains,
Why did they feel so comforting?
Why do I feel like lying again,
Disappearing in plain sight
With a million masks for wearing?

Brought out into light, but never clear
These things we say, we can't take away
And once said, they burn up and engrave
Forever and a day more,
Searing white pain,
It's not fair.
 
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11. Writing live
Rolling down your veins,
Climbing up to your brain
Little shards of glass
Little shards of fun
Of pain
Makes you laugh, makes you cry
Makes you silly, makes you a star
Flying through the universe
So, so far.

12. Writing live
She wakes up to find my merry letter
Which I wrote with love, and care,
Choosing words, choosing the paper,
And perfumed with sweet jasmin,
With thoughts of her, on her, and for her,
Like she deserves, like I should give her.
Except I didn't, and she doesn't.

Mean to my friends, gentle to my enemies.
How much sense does that make?
Fuck, I'm a jerk.

13. Writing live :)
He thought of love like a gentle thing,
Which all people should have,
"All should have some warmth in their lives," he said
He later wept softly, no one saw, no one cared.
A man is a fortress, a sand castle, on an island,
Where a wave comes crashing
Leaving nothing but rubble.

14. Writing live
I was a virgin last month,
And now, it seems, I am experienced.
How I wish it was so easy, in life,
To rise so in rank, in heart, in love, in all
I don't even feel like an adult, and it irks me.

15. Writing live
Time for breakfast.
Stretch your legs, your arms, your spine,
Your whole body.
Take care of things,
If there are things to be taken care of,
If not, go on,
Open the fridge, eat something, shove it in your mouth,
Like an animal,
Like the big, bad insect thing inside you
Giving you a kickstart
But stop, don't forget the crosswords,
They are important, they keep you capable
To spill words like an idiot.

16. Writing live
"Please," I said.
She ran her hand through my hair,
And pulled on it, threw me against the wall,
Put her thighs around me,
Gave me a stare.
"You say please too much, boy," she said.
I'm sorry, I guess.
"You say sorry too much, boy," she said,
"It makes you look weak and insincere."
Well, how about fuck you, then?

17. Writing live
I sat there waiting,
At the edge between worlds
Between two, full lives
So far apart, so different.
You made me feel special,
And I cared for you deeply.
I panicked at the thought of losing you
(you weren't mine to begin with).
I longed for your words
Like a child longs for a mother's embrace;
Immersed in trust and understanding,
Feeling so safe and warm.
Expecting things for which I had no right
Asking for things which you could not give
And looking for love never meant for me.
Saying goodbye
Has never been so hard
And so painful.

18. Writing live
When you're lost in a maze
Or stumbling in darkness
Remember yourself,
Hold on to the strength inside
And even if it wavers,
Remember a candle burns bright in darkness

19. Writing live
If people enter your life for a reason,
A season or a lifetime, I wonder,
When the season is done, and winter does come,
Will she remember me with kindness?

Help me believe that spring is coming,
With laughter, and bare feet on grass, rustling
And people holding hands, not chasing after
But meeting again in a nest of love

20. 30 in 30 #1
tap, tap
as you wait for the queen
of hearts
fingers cold, like razors
invited, burning, welcome
sorrowing sawing
deep
distress
to give birth
to a butterfly
 
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21. 30 in 30 #1
Wake up early
To swirling darkness
Like static in your eyes
A veil in your mind
A buzz in your ears
Before sound
Before the smell of coffee.
Sweet memories, oh lazy days
Fading away to nothing.
Put on your working boots
(Shine 'em up!)
Prepare to plod through
'Cause carpe diem, baby.
Seize the day
Live the moment
Waste away
Every moment. Dull.
Like a machine. Numb.
Results, results
Faster, faster
Off the curve
(You rebel!)
So reckless

22. 30 in 30 #1 :)
Warm resonant tingling
Wall crumbling feeling
Dam breaking flowing
Heart struck pouring
Until
Nothing is left of me.
But how I want to.
*sigh*
...if only.
Storm within silence
Silence within sound
Emptiness within words.
So incomplete.

23. 30 in 30 #1
People say loneliness is being alone in a crowd
But for me, it is knowing that,
No matter where you go,
And what you do,
And who you meet,
And how much time passes,
You'll always be alone.
Ignorance is bliss.

24. 30 in 30 #1
A hard clock upside the head—
Is it a slap, is it a chronometer
Embedded in flesh?
Confusing thoughts,
Confusing words,
Do you feel the same
Without the safety net?
This, too, will pass;
Patience will break the fall.


25. Dactyloadapter - 30 in 30 #1
Two fingers plugged into a socket,
A little flicker, a little tremble;
He is positively shocked!
Dazed and confused!
Heart beating like a hammer!
Oh, my.
*fidgets, pulls away*
Well, now.
All things considered,
Feels good, man.

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26. 30 in 30 #1
Wrote a poem so bad
It hurt my tender sensibilities.
Replaced it with this one instead,
Also an inexorable wordcrash,
An ugly wordkill left by the wordlane,
But in all honesty, slightly less lame.
(Yeah. The other one really sucked.)
Ta-da! Mission accomplished.
All that is left to do is plant the sign:
This here is a poem.

27. Entropy - 30 in 30 #1 :)
Thoughts once laid, yet left unfinished
Of things crystal clear, now fading away;
Words woven like a tapestry,
Abandoned to moths, never said;
This mystery of intention, convoluted,
Turned around, on itself, brought low,
Muted.

As I refrain, pain breeding anger,
I want things to be again the same.
Yet time never goes back, never relents;
Beauty is an illusion, slipping away.

28. Don't think - 30 in 30 #1
A mind aware, looking too far
Moves into words, into thoughts
Considers contexts, connects dots.
Keeps note of emotions, needs, desires.
Forethought working miracles,
Suddenly fails spectacular.
Looking too far, in between,
Thoughts become poison
Ready to fester within.
The only remedy, truth,
For better or worse
Leaves you tender and exposed,
Ready for the picking.

29. 30 in 30 #1
Tut, tut. I sense an outburst.
Where have your gentle thoughts gone?
How unseemly to inconvenience others
With such strong emotions.
That is not the way for a gentleman
To behave.
Listen to me. I'll show you the way to
Safety, and good
Manners; a way to avoid
Everything. You'll be a master of truncated
Communication, of perfectly delivered
Platitudes, well-thought
Beforehand, agreeably
Diplomatic, sanitized and
Pasteurized, tantalizingly
Tasteless, suspiciously
Odorless, fleetingly
Translucent, customarily deep and
Inscrutable, approved by
Committee, and completely void of
True feeling.
Listen to me. Don't panic.
I'll keep you
Safe, and
Sound, and
Well
Locked
Inside.
No need to thank me, my dear boy.
I am always thinking of you.

30. 30 in 30 #1 :)
I put my arms around you,
My freedom, my safety;
We float above
By the cool breeze,
With skin glistening slick
As warm as the sun.
I rise to the top
A smile on my face,
And then go down,
A wave dying, spent,
Leading us astray.
We bend sideways,
Together we spray,
Tumble over, crash dive,
Beneath the surface,
United, tied together,
Happier, if slightly tousled.
We start again,
Keep going at it
'Till sunset comes
And it's time to leave.
It was a long, long day—
But while it's dark,
In wind's cold embrace,
We dream only of sunrise.

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31. 30 in 30 #1 - American sentence
How is it that one can be a sage to others, but not to himself?
I am both much older and much younger than I need to be right now.

32. 30 in 30 #1
His path is a strange one indeed.
Going nowhere, no one to meet,
He meets the day with a smile,
Weary eyes and stumbling feet.

Closing his eyes gives him no rest,
For rest isn't sleep,
It is his head on her chest
And his mind soaked in dreams.

33. Writing live
Would that every star were she,
Beautiful Venus, bringer of dawn,
Shining bright before her fall.

34. Winter isn't coming - Writing live
I lived every winter day
As if it were the last.
Now it is air conditioning
And powerful fans for me,
Made up artificial relief,
Counting days for the real thing
To arrive.

35. Writing live
A compliment is a gift,
Sweet when it is thoughtful,
Precious when it is true.
But to the one who receives,
It's often difficult to see
Another's own truth;
It often feels undeserved,
For there is nothing closer
To one's mind
Than one's own flaws.

36. 30 in 30 #1
Met the Buddha on the road
Killed him, as I was told
Burned him too, just to be sure.

Three miles down I wandered astray,
And as I was bold, crossed a river
For no reason, then lost the way.

There is a lingering feeling
That I might have missed something,
But I wouldn't know.

'He was too old to live
and too young to die',
They later said.

37. Feeling sick - 30 in 30 #1
A tumbling wave of fire
Wreaks havoc in the pit,
Cuts through to the surface
Forcing painful wakefulness,
Moves me on trembling feet,
Brings me low, to my knees,
Mocks me as it leaves me
Feeling cold and sick,
But also mercifully
Free from strings.

38. Clarity / blindness - 30 in 30 #1 :)
One day his mind confuses,
it amuses that the next
clarity blinds.

He finds his skull two sizes
too small, his thoughts spill
out like a fall.

Being fraught by the thought
things may come to a crawl,
he ignores they are one
and the same.

He goes back the way
from whence he came,
so finally in rest
he may lay.

39. 30 in 30 #1
Merry-go-round;
the conniving and the blind
holding hands.
Each soul is meat
being ground
in this stroll
round and round;
the machine is in for a treat.

40. New year (writing drunk) - 30 in 30 #1
Ooh, look at the blooming stars
of fire and and smoke and light
sparkling in the night sky.
(Nice start, that sounds nice)
Sparkling like the clear,
bubbly, bright, merry-making,
peace-making wine
—excuse me, champagne—
Braving into dark depths
then climbing to the command chair
making fingers move easily
to write these silly lines.
 
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41. 30 in 30 #1
Cheap gin touches his mouth
to fight away what yearns the cold.
We feel, quietly, time passing,
you tell me "it's all wrong".
You do not tell me what,
so silence remains,
things go untold.
Finally, a truthful sigh,
so it's all said and done.
You know it's fine
to have a broken heart,
but not to give it up.

42. 30 in 30 #1 :)
Skin scorching sun,
lip parching heat.
In a stage so blue,
so wide, no white.
The water bearer
enters the stage;
his life vessel so dry.
He would give you
his tears if he could,
the water off his skin,
and all the time in between
the first and last smile.
If only it meant not to die.

43. 30 in 30 #1
Chill northeast wind's bite;
fine white sand's given flight
in a coast so gray and long.

Sharp alar razors of stone
go unseen in plain sight,
as bare feet plod along, alone.

Not a soul walks the night
to join hands in the cold
for a touch would ache to the bone.

Fire's a soul shining bold
marching on to a fight
that is meant to go untold.

44. 30 in 30 #1
There is a fool within each one of us
he begs and pleads to be set free
to roam around doing cartwheels
and flippity flop, down the stair you go
flying through the air like a brick,
flailing like a crash test wildcat,
landing on your back like soft strawberry jello.
Shrug it off, stand up, start again,
A silly smile on your face, like a king.

45. 30 in 30 #1
Half is not enough to walk on fire
/ is far too much to tread softly
Better move away, or give in,
but never doubt, never falter.
Keep the smile.
Kiss the woman, kiss the lip,
lick the venom lovingly.
When you walk on fire, thread softly,
'cause it's hard to keep the poison out.
It's a journey through the dark,
down streets you never saw in daylight.
No light, no spotlight, night walker.
Feet on damp earth, unsteady soil gives
knees scraped, hands bleed.
Better crawl up from that hollow.
Such a long way to go
home, through the front door.
Your mother asks you,
Are you hurt? Did you fight?
Well, am I? Did I?
Can I?
Maybe, when you're of two minds,
but one soul, ready to tear apart.
Until then, kiss the woman, kiss the lip.
Lick the venom lovingly.

46. 30 in 30 #1
Hello, you say,
then you open the car's door
to threaten a stranger passing by.
Half a breath, half a hair's
breadth to hack 'n slash.
What a lovely human being you are,
making way through the crowd,
muscles bulging too much for the little
man you are, proudly waving that cattle prod
like it's your cock.
I wish you could see yourself, super-hero.
You'd be much improved by a super-ego,
or some sort of system shock.

47. 30 in 30 #1
Conversation turned into bureaucracy,
common courtesy taken too far,
or perhaps completely forgotten.
Sometimes I can't tell.
So please forgive me if I feel
more than a bit disappointed,
deceived, betrayed, or simply hurt,
sitting on my cozy pile of nothing.
These words I read, they are like air,
and well, next to nothing, even air
is something, I suppose, since
air keeps you alive and kicking.
Alive and empty, like a balloon,
ready to burst. Or maybe an egg,
ready to break, slight inward pressure
causing catastrophic collapse
of its thin shell.

48. 30 in 30 #1 :)
You and me,
we are like a bonsai tree.
A pretty seed meant for great things
planted in a pot too small.
A young trunk made gnarled by force,
sustained by roots grown too big,
too starved, pushing the envelope,
sustaining thin, atrophied limbs,
cut again and again,
never meant to bear fruit.
An experiment,
perfect in its execution,
perhaps good for exposition.

49. 30 in 30 #1
A constellation of thoughts,
circles, cycles, coils and chains,
patterns you'll never see.

You'll never see, undo or break
these things, too.

These things, too close to the heart,
once torn, they threaten to leave you empty.

Empty, and hollow,
is just fine for the strong willed,
for it provides room to rebuild.

You never could, as I can, as I will, now.
Watch, mirror.

50. American sentence - Aluminum cans
Aluminum cans left on the street, nothing lost with people who fetch.
Aluminum cans left on the street, give my thanks to waste collectors.
 
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51. American sentence - Sage
How is it that one can be a sage to others, but not to himself?
I am both much older and much younger than I need to be right now.

52. American sentence - Groggy mind
The groggy mind searches for poems that insist in fading away.

53. American sentence - Love
I don't want her body, but the part she doesn't share, her mind, her heart — her.

54. American sentence - Lips tracing
Fingers pull forcefully as lips trace contours between pale moonlit thighs.

55. She bleeds ink (inspired on a poem by butters) - Writing live :)
There is a thought she carries
around like an inappropriate gift
she must give.

Every day she seeks to let it rest,
or let it lie somewhere, abandoned,
but she cannot.

Words will come spilling out,
things she doesn't want to say;
but she says them anyway,
Because she can? Because she must.

She fumbles a thought, fizzles the intention.
Lets it sizzle to the surface,
these shards of hope, become knives,
become hurt.

She says without saying, a spectacle in obscuring;
within a lake, profound, the rarest animal
you'll never see again. It moves sideways,
you reach for it, it bleeds ink, it flows away.
Like water. Catch it and it dies.

Truth has a way of undoing mysteries,
fantasies, dreams long broken,
a million shards of hope undone.
Thread softly.

(SIGH. Damn live writes. Read the last line again... :rolleyes:)

56. Writing live
Everything said is a cliché
of something once said, or yet to be said.

With luck, you'll write down thoughts
Plato had, but didn't note down
because he was in a hurry.

Or maybe you'll have thoughts of your own,
a treasure unknown, never as so noticed,
never as so written, and finally discovered
by someone else, in the future.

Invert time, and we sit at the beginning,
creators of ourselves, of our words,
no longer impostors.

Suddenly all we say and think and feel is
once again fine and mysterious.

There are only so many emotions,
so many different thoughts and words.
These thoughts, mine and yours, are only natural;
we do as we do, say as we say,
following a path of stones long laid.

A machine, it writes down all permutations,
it creates everything,
the greatest poet the world will ever know,
yet it does not bleed.

57. American sentence - Saltzer water
I don't always spray seltzer water, but when I do, I spray at clowns.

58. American sentence - Lead by example
Every revolution needs a brave soul to lead. Lead by example!

59. Freedom - Writing live :)
An ant follows the trail,
pheromones lead the way,
attract inexorably, compelling
a limited brain.

Released from the oppression of
chemistry, it wanders alone, with
limited perception, away from home,
from its purpose, from meaning.

*crush* stepped on.

The miserable, born in the desert
of civilization, breaks rocks at his
master's property. Never saw a contract,
couldn't read it anyway — never learned how —
his only contract is slavery.

By human act made human,
given rights, given a piece of paper
with his name, becomes a true worker,
now free to come and go.
Away from his world, without education,
without prospects.

*crush* stepped on.

A madman screams; the walls, the ceiling!
Rails, scratches, rolls, kicks.
Finally released,
as an experiment, just for fun,
walks two steps and sits on the sidewalk,
sucking his thumb.

Walls, ceilings! Just beyond our view!

*crush* stepped on.

60. Hi Ku Cat :)
When you leave
Left to my own devices
I'm left wondering
 
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61. Writing live
Wake up to torrential waves
of heat, the cooling hum
of machinery amiss per the spell
of an evil Ifrit.

Long day, short night.
Wakeful cooking,
Restless stumbling.
Sun's reign, no cloud in sight.

...yet the air is thick.
Silly hidden water
makes it hard to breath.

Water heats, hotter
than skin, highly unusual
lack of chill.
Walls radiate, pulse
in synch, an echo of my
boiling blood.

Night approaches, yet refracted fire
sets the sky aflame. The world is
uniformly yellow. The void shines,
even shadows are bright.
Water-bearers arrive,
cover the sky, a big entrance
for ungrateful carriers
unwilling to share.

Do not expect me to clap.

62. No Quarter - Writing live
The winds of Thor are blowing warm;
Isn't that wrong? North wind, methinks,
should be cold.
A stork went the wrong way,
that dork; and now it's on me to pay
the price for hot blood.
Delight in a delicate hand during winter,
soft awed sighs, asking "how can your hands
be warm?"
Endure summer, burning within and without,
no amount of water sufficient to douse
the furnace in your core.

63. Writing live :)
Things have the meaning
we give them.
Yet only when you give
me meaning,
Do my meanings matter
to myself.

64. Writing live
Ding-a-ling she enters
all curves and swell,
plush red smeared lipstick
and I honestly thought
she had legs to kill for.
So BAM! goes my smoking gun.
When she left me,
I was left with a stiff.
No small matter to handle.

65. Communication Breakdown - Writing live :)
Contrary to common belief,
Communication breakdown
isn't always the same.
Sometimes breakdown
comes with resonance,
growth unrestrained,
not with decay.
Thus silence becomes relief,
a reprieve to the end
of the game.

66. American sentence - Tears
Warm tendrils from the soul. They cool and dry as they leave; forever gone.

67. Writing live
a bundle of words, delivered
thoughts emoted, processed,
returned. a trade, an exchange
quid pro quo
through solvent emotions
mixing, meeting half-way
between planets
in cold void
where strange interference
plays pranks on us all

68. Writing live
sneaky violence
makes me miss the loving, truthful
fist to the mouth
and the wise lessons of the
black eye & bloodied lip
você desperta meus instintos
mais primitivos.

69. Writing live
the messenger was shot
despite his best effort
walking a long road
paved with good intentions.
as warm tendrils leave him,
I wonder what message
carried his trembling lips?

70. Writing live
zoom brain boom
too many zombies
wiggling fingers.
when thoughts crash
an emoting screen
is a port in a storm.
this mayn't be a poem
but damn
this unexpected
:heart::rose::cattail::(:eek::mad:
 
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71. Writing live
dead, but still wandering
wiggling fingers, restless
making themselves noticed

72. Writing live
in a cool dark forest
crawling secrets are hidden underfoot

the careless giant makes a path through low growth
his face parts greenery hanging from dead tree-fingers

foolish giant, carrying away crumbling loam and rot
lairs once hidden, now exposed, given too much light

giant become canopy, a trellis of moss and rot
the old bearded tree-man has breathed his last spore

73. Hint fiction - Inversion :)
A month of drought, air bending heat. Finally, rain horizontal. Constant lightning, like blood through sky-veins.

Meanwhile, at home, no electricity, no water.

74. Hint fiction - News
They woke us children up. "Your father is at the hospital," she said, but quickly added "he'll be fine."

He was relieved. I knew better.

75. Hint fiction - Dinner for one
A lovely evening dinner, exactly as I asked. Lobster tail, shrimp, apple pie, ice cream.

The priest prays; I walk the row one last time.

76. Hint fiction - Searching for the spring
Upward tunnel of green. The fall's cold mist brushes my sore skin. Majestic white butterflies dance through shafts of sunlight. I'll never leave this pool.

77. Hint fiction - The professional
Pushes me against the wall throws away my hat kisses me bites me draws blood—I hold her thigh.

"Did you kill them?" I ask.

78. Hint fiction - Tricky got me in
A salacious slip of the tongue; that little push made her shudder. She looked at me, unsure whether to slap or kiss me. As intended.

79. Writing live :)
If she were light
You could love her across any distance.
Far away, an echo of the past
or close enough to be your future.
But
she is so heavy,
weighing you down...
So I take this scale of reason
and tip it off the hinge.
Now Love, any way you can.

80. Void / night - Words to avoid in erotic fiction
Out here, in the void,
it's easy to lose track of time.
Sleep doesn't come
though miniature cities slumber.
The unlit side slides by,
now it's time to meet the Sun.
 
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81. When the levee breaks - 30 in 30 #2
Against your better judgment,
the levee broke.
With dark clouds overhead,
you kept on raining, until it was
time to weep and moan.
Now the water has spilled
and there is no place to go.

82. The Ocean / Friends / Ramble On / Ten years gone - 30 in 30 #2
I was singing on a mountain
for a girl who'd won my heart.
I couldn't smell the rain,
nor the pain headed my way;
the mountain washed away.

Now I can't stop climbing,
looking for what I knew.
Wish I could ramble on,
just sing my song 'till
ten years were gone.

83. Entangled - 30 in 30 #2 :)
Drifting far away from the ground,
mesmerized by things seen,
not heard, empty of sound.

So far that nothing is quite what it seems,
and you feel nothing can hurt you at all—
maybe it's time to come back down; to
disentangle yourself from your dreams?

84. Take the long way home / Breakfast in America - 30 in 30 #2
You took the long way home
hoping for things to see,
for things to come true.

Somewhere along the way
you became part of the scenery,
but there is not a lot you can do.

Lonely days turn to lonely nights; do
you wish you'd prevented your greenery
from coming down, boy?

It's peculiar, she used to be so nice...
No use thinking of what might have been,
if only you'd had more time.

85. American sentence
Unlikely to bend, unwilling to break. No one gets what they want.

86. American sentence
You bend, and bend; I probe the edge of your nonexistent boundaries.

87. American sentence
Dance on a volcano for two; burned feet are the least of our problems.

88. Hint fiction - Inappropriate (shameless rework of Tzara's)
He noticed the ring on her left hand.

Then he started several notes to her, declaring his love. Though clumsily worded, they were honest.

89. Hint fiction - Mad cackle
Their house is ablaze, they notice, heart wrenched.

Meanwhile, Cedric the turtle makes its escape into the family pool, a spent match discarded.

90. Hint fiction - Don't make 'em like we used to
Tap, tap—a pistol on my window. "Get outta the car!"

I leave, hands up. They don't.

Gotta teach 'em to use the automatic gear.
 
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I love reading compilation threads :) you have some really interesting poems in here tsotha, although I don't comment much of late I do try to read everything when I have time, I'll try and offer my thoughts on a few of these soon, but soon is a very loose term for me at the moment, you need a smiley face on your first poem posted I really liked it!
 
I love reading compilation threads :) you have some really interesting poems in here tsotha, although I don't comment much of late I do try to read everything when I have time, I'll try and offer my thoughts on a few of these soon, but soon is a very loose term for me at the moment, you need a smiley face on your first poem posted I really liked it!

Hey Tod! Thank you for dropping by. :) Bah, don't worry. I'm in the same boat: need more time to comment others' work. I can't even claim to read everything—if my eyes start unfocusing, it's as good as if I hadn't read... :eek: Not to mention everything that comes out on New Poems. So many every day!

I put that smiley on the first one. I do like it too. It's (in part) a recurring dream I've had in the past. Had to remove a smiley from another poem, though—don't want to have too many of those smiles, or they lose their purpose. ;)

Again, thank you.
 
I liked # 1 too, Tsotha. I'm not sure if you intended it or it was intuitive, but the more frequent punctuation in stanza 2 slowed the cadence of the poem, appropriately in my opinion, so that reader captures an image of a boat that inspires both fear and wonder, and then the rest of the poem picks up the pace as you sail away in search of your intended lover. This was well written and imaginative.
 
how wonderful to see so many of your pieces all in the one place - makes for an interesting journey without having to keep clicking to new pages or going on a hunt. some really good reads in here :rose:
 
I liked # 1 too, Tsotha. I'm not sure if you intended it or it was intuitive, but the more frequent punctuation in stanza 2 slowed the cadence of the poem, appropriately in my opinion, so that reader captures an image of a boat that inspires both fear and wonder, and then the rest of the poem picks up the pace as you sail away in search of your intended lover. This was well written and imaginative.

Ah, I tend to pay quite a bit of attention to the pace of what I'm writing, and I sometimes wonder if I'm not overdoing it with the punctuation—it can get distracting if overdone, right? And I try some strange things sometimes (e.g. #29; I deliberately made it difficult to read, to reinforce the feeling of "truncated communication". Hopefully the reader will feel like he's "falling" from line to line, and hopefully, not want to slap me by the end. ;)).

As for the exact effect on the one who reads, that's a hit or miss for me — hopefully the way I'm pacing it helps the reader, but I'm never really sure, what seems interesting to one may make no sense or serve no purpose to another. I certainly wouldn't have hoped to achieve exactly what you describe (not back then, a few months ago). So it's a bit intuitive, too, and whew, good to know it worked for you! :D Thank you for reading and for the feedback, I appreciate it.

how wonderful to see so many of your pieces all in the one place - makes for an interesting journey without having to keep clicking to new pages or going on a hunt. some really good reads in here :rose:

:rose:
 
I just found three poems in my first 30 in 30 run (#97, #98 and #99) which I hadn't seen before. Oops... That breaks the order somewhat, but they were written around the same time as poems #20-#50. :)


91. Thoughtful check in - Hint fiction
He opens a message from his internet friend.

"Hi there! I'm sorry to say that we won't be talking anymore—I find myself slightly dead. Cheers!"

92. The Show Must Go On - 30 in 30 #2
A chamber of molten rock
and fluxes that climb, up a duct
'till pressure builds, hot,
uncontrolled, set to erupt.
All this beneath a desert of ice.

His face may be flaking
but the smile stays on.
A nod and a smile, swallow a roar
an apology, wanting to explode.
We know the score,
inside his heart is breaking—
but hold the line,
on with the show!

93. Into White / No Light, No Light - 30 in 30 #2
I built my house on thin ice
walls of rice paper and windows of light
a revelation, trying to get it right
and everything emptied into blue.
Not white.
No light, now, daylight so far.

94. While My Guitar Gently Weeps / To Be Treated Rite - 30 in 30 #2
What was the message, again?
The one that was meant to be, so crafted?
I forget. Try as I might, it just won't change,
it comes back, same old, again and again,
dust in my gears, a cobweb and a spider,
a dagger rending through the chest.
Shouldn't we be learning?

95. Duel - 30 in 30#2 :)
"Choose your weapon," you say.
Do I dare hope that your choice
is to hit me with a flower?
For it's all I can take, unprepared.

This way we can hit each other
for eternity, all giggles and sighs,
and each time we reach out
it's the same as a kiss on the brow.

96. American sentence
Balanced on the edge of a razor; but either way you fall, you fall.

97. Panettone - 30 in 30 #1
A dome fluffy and sweet
It bends in your hands,
Melts in your mouth,
Soft and sour suddenly undone;
A river of collected memories,
And little sugary gems running
Down the stream.

Note: #98 below was written for the 30 in 30 challenge, but I quickly replaced it with #99 (only Todski read it, I think), for the reason mentioned in #99 itself.

98. 30 in 30 #1
How can such horrors be possible?
If I could close my eyes and forget, for a moment,
I would still keep them open, to remember.
Again,
and again,
stupidity, war, waste, destruction,
we go nowhere, time changes nothing,
it blends everything together,
a searing ball of fear, pain and anger.
Emotions, free flowing from a hidden core,
take such an imperfect route to the surface
that all ability to convey them is lost,
only feeble words and useless moisture emerge.
If my voice had equal strength to this feeling,
what a frightening thing it would be.
I would be the horn of judgment,
reaching across any distance.

99. American sentence - 30 in 30 #1
Too raw for my taste; even I can tell when a poem wasn't well cooked.

100. 30 in 30 #2
The hands you hold before your eyes
aren't your own;
And though your feet take you places
it's not where you want to go;
And what you must say and what you wish to say
isn't the same;
On you go, another day, wearing a skin
you must eventually shed.
 
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101. writing live, 30 in 30 #2
The snake is a symbol for intelligence
It is a symbol for danger
For betrayal, for death, wisdom
Even health, at times
It's green, it's brown, it's mottled red
Scaly, long, legless
Two eyes
Fangs, reptile
...and then it sheds its skin.
The hunter scratches his chin
Time to start again
The snake is...

102. American sentence
Conference call required. Dishes and laundry are no laughing matter.

103. American sentence
There's a letter, written for me, never sent, never read. Wish I could.

104. writing live, 30 in 30 #2
Sometimes, it feels
unsettling
to find ourselves nailed
to the rough wooden rim.
We rise and fall, crushed and relieved
in turn, the turning
entrances, through harmonic
oscillation, going nowhere.

Sometimes, the settling is
unsettling
to my eyes, as my eyes to me.
Day to day, rocking
the boat, gentle sway
of spring distended—
every thing unbalanced,
returning to sleep.
Entropy without change.
Distractions, we miss
the constant pull of
gravity, the constant pull toward
(something).
The waterfall to the boat, the
heaviness in between days, the
equilibrium of mass and spring.

Sometimes, my settling move is to
unsettle
rock the boat, capsize,
pull the spring, beyond
a point of no return,
break the wheel, the chain,
the pendulum, let it go,
change, rearrange,
a new equilibrium.
For now.

105. Behold! - Sestina - 30 in 30 #2 :)
Never shy on his first try,
armed with his own two hands,
foolhardy, he sets to work.
Fruit of two opposable thumbs
and a highly developed telencephalon,
smart monkey says: behold!

There are many sights to behold
going out on a limb, for a try.
Gotta activate your telencephalon
while keeping both hands
safely inside. Remember: without thumbs,
smart monkey cannot work.

But giddy gaga, woozy wobbly woo, this won't work,
barmy words make for sestinawrecks to behold!
Wrecks, even when funny, rarely receive the thumbs
up, so just give up, don't even try!
A smart monkey closes the shop, hands
over his humbled telencephalon...

But a humble telencephalon
this monkey does not have, so to work
he goes, and he says: "all hands
on deck!". Works to produce a thing to behold,
and though it will take many a try,
bashes his head. Nevermind his sore thumbs.

Breakneck daredevil, look now at his thumbs!
Must be twisting and squeezing that telencephalon
hard, going for the last drop of juice. Just try
to picture, this incatious madcap hard at work,
his desktop a spreadsheet, a sight to behold.
Really, who'd have thought he'd try his hands?

Faster and faster, a maniac, hands
furiously typing, by themselves, 'till thumbs
come right off, now little bloody stumps. Behold,
however, how he still goes on, telencephalon
now in full auto, full drive, full forward, hard at work.
Monkey sees, monkey does! Shame won't foil his try.

All it takes are hands, no shame, and a telencephalon;
For as olden thumbs have thumbed, "what a piece of work is monkey."
Behold, then, smart monkey's first try.

106. Hi ku cat
abbreviation
confusing
bubbling
interrupted
kept
hidden
incommunicado
thoughts desire communication
communication requires words
words require patience
patience requires love

107. writing live, 30 in 30 #2
there is a kind of thought,
which isn't task oriented,
or survival oriented,
or anything.

empathy and awareness,
accidents of evolution,
self-fulfilling prophecies for destruction
of the meek.

think too much, feel too much...
looking inside (and inside the outside)
weakness? maybe, sometimes.
too often, seen as handicap,

so much of what makes
humans human
mocked, taken lightly,
taken for granted.

yet try for a human tribe
without those who
think too much, feel too much...
just try.

108. An epistle, 30 in 30 #2, Teach-in Write an Epistle
To whomever finds this note,

I leave this journal in hope that something can be learned and changed.

Day 1:

Each year, it is the same.
I have barricaded myself inside with large quantities of food,
but still they come, in through the television.
The voices. The music. Driving me mad.
Any sarau can turn out to be one of their trojan horses.
I resign myself; I can't stop them, I can only endure.
At least I have Netflix.

Day 2:

They are out on the street tonight, making noise.
Wiggling their bodies, clearly mad.
Their war drums can be heard from a distace,
beating to the ancient tune of some fertility goddess,
or maybe some drunkard god.
Horns and cavacos can be faintly heard,
but the voices,
oh the voices.
They are loud as they go by, unintelligible,
laughing and shrieking in turn.
At night, I cover my ears and surround myself with the power of music,
playing some good old-fashioned rock 'n roll.
Just keeping myself sane, another day.

Day 3:

I walked outside during daylight and saw the destruction.
(It's safe to go out; they are all sleeping.)
I saw broken bottles and tiny cuts of glittery paper in every possible color,
like a rainbow left on the street.
You can spot other survivors like me. They walk by with
dark spots under their eyes, restless.
Others have some strange energy to them, going nowhere, their minds
on auto-pilot. Those poor bastards don't realize, but it's too late for them.
I look through the blinds and see beautiful women walking by, chased by men.
It's a contagion. They multiply too fast.
Every night there is less of us, and more of them.
When will this madness end?

Day 4:

There is no hope.
The drums are too loud. The music is maddening.
I wonder where everyone has gone. My booze is missing, too.
Yesterday they came back with happy faces,
without a single worry in the world. Even if they have so much to worry about.
I cannot win. Might as well join them.
One last fight.
To remember the old times.
I remove my top hat and monocle, and prepare my liver.
Carnaval, here I come.

109. Heart of the Sunrise, 30 in 30 #2
sharp distance between
wakefulness and sleep,
he lies in wait listening,
looking for all the meanings
of the song.
straight light comes to
take him away;
on he rides, to the heart
of the sunrise.

110. Mood for a Day, 30 in 30 #2, writing live
Sun shining, high,
yellow bright,

If only for a day,
let this mood be;
let it stay. Stay

for a day, if only.
If we could, just be...
Please, let it be.
 
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111. American sentence, 30 in 30 #2
They fall like domino pieces, but viruses will not win the day.

112. 30 in 30 #2
Walk down branching corridors,
search, perceive, decide
which way to turn, the pace to move,
finally come to a dead-end,
a place with no decisions left,
where everything makes sense,
nothing ever disturbs certainty.
Sit there alone, proud
of an achievement, of having found
-perfection-
and a blind, stubborn eternity
until realizing no one else is there,
and there is nothing left to do.
Get up, at first in denial,
crying out for all the fools
to find their way to this isle,
this little piece of heaven.
Yet no one comes.
Next, wallow in doubt,
search again for the path,
for the next branching of the way, but
it's not there, there is no solution, only the
-final-
solution.
Search for the way back instead,
certain of having chosen wrong
at some point,
but that way is now closed,
walls of certainty and arrogance
have sealed the way.
So look around for the blinking light
and a sign saying
Congratulations!
You have walked to the end of this particular mindset,
and reached a little death, a prison of the mind.
And then finally realize that
the questions were the important part,
not the answers, not the path,
not the destination,
so the labyrinth and the prison are
finally undone.

113. Cold Fire: Strange Flames (a Diminished Hexaverse), 30 in 30 #2
the strangest of flames,
which nothing changes,
and nothing consumes.
does it even burn?
eyes cannot see it.

has't forgotten,
then, fire's nature?
that fire must burn,
grow unbridled?

forced to sleep,
this cold fire
sleepwalks, dreams...

from spark,
arise!

warmth!

114. My Joyous Sizzleslurp (a Vogon poem), 30 in 30 #2
Grumbleyaps, on innards cuntiform,
thy vast porklyport beckons!
By joyous sizzleslurp, to and fro,
'twas the discombobulating fuddlefoam
to buzzblur uttered slurstomps.
My, now 'tis effervescent!

115. blind dog (a Rictameter), 30 in 30 #2
blind dog.
stares back, not sad,
just unaware of me.
remembers voices, places, joys,
dreams of the park, but while outside, he falls
from the sidewalk, bumps into trees.
back home, sits and pants, tired.
you're a good friend,
blind dog.​

116. a tyburn, 30 in 30 #2
Soar
Roar
Snore
Score

Smaug awakens; soars and roars, breaths fire.
Before men, he snores; by score, they fall!​

117. a Tetractys, 30 in 30 #2
Noon
Eerie
dying light
Due night, blue sky
Fire made manifest — Sun and Moon collide,
birds fly home, in fright, singing out of time
Earth holds breath, waits
dying dark;
weirding
sight.​

118. A Felicidade, 30 in 30 #2
A moment of peace, or pure joy,
of the gentle hand, or a caress,
and words light-hearted, that soothe,
and being, just being, with ease,
and patience, and simplicity,
and nothing can go wrong...
So the poet reminds me,
sadness has no end,
but happiness does.

119. Hi Ku Cat :)
wish I had
a mental detector
to avoid minefields
of words I don't hear

120. A shell to my ear, 30 in 30 #2
It starts with doubt
you create an ear behind
your ear stretching
in hope to hear what?
isn't there.

Something's quite different
it's obvious, though
you cannot tell why?
there's river where an ocean
should be.

You notice ringing
or a pulse electronic,
wave up, wave down
you search for it and
it's not anywhere, it's
everywhere, inside your head
relentless unstopping.

Sleep doesn't come but
if it comes, you're dreaming
of bells in the distance
or tires screeching and leaves
blowing by your head always
the river leaving.

When you wake up you remember
something's quite wrong but
you look at the mirror and
nothing is missing, except
sound.

"Sound is overrated," you
won't say, "not hearing must
be nice".

Patience
you talk ever so slowly so
slowly it becomes until
you can actually understand
again.
 
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Watch out, this edition has triolets that aren't triolets.

121. American sentence
Lucille frowns at me. I change her rusty strings and we cry together.

122. 30 in 30 #2
Walking down a street,
without destination,
being met by new sights,
and strange people, hearing
a language unknown,
and diving into a throng,
going with the flow, no control
over direction, exploring
and tasting different food
in stalls on the sidewalk or
quaint places downtown, then
having to mimic for directions,
and finally leaving it all behind.
Is it strange that these are things
that give me pleasure, and that
it is going home that makes me wistful?

123. It Might As Well Be Spring, 30 in 30 #2
I close my eyes to soak
in the soothing sound of music.
Bass and drum keep
a pace, and me in a lull,
swaying while the piano sings.
But it is the trumpet that holds me,
reaching sudden ups and downs,
and with its warm tune, inside.
I close my eyes, I'm elsewhere.
Not sure where, but everywhere
is the soothing sound of music.
Maybe I'm having a drink,
or, with the right company,
I might be dancing.
It doesn't matter;
for now, I'm elsewhere.

124. Secret Garden (a Tritina), 30 in 30 #2
Wandering, lost in a secret garden,
I brave forth, lured by scents oh-so-fragrant.
Unbeknown to me, the muse comes alive.

Horrors must be faced to leave here alive,
for this is the famous Zombie Garden
and one musn't trust what's luscious and fragrant!

Yet her garden is tended, and fragrant...
she opens herself, quite sweet and alive.
We tumble, and soon I'll be of the garden —

This foul garden, fragrant but not alive.

125. Gloom (a Triolet), 30 in 30 #2
Resist this mood when winter comes;
If lacking strength, by will endure.
Hold on to friends, though night comes faster -
Resist this mood! - when winter comes,
their fire can keep at bay disaster.
Though night has ways to lie and lure,
Resist this mood. When winter comes,
If lacking strength, by will endure.

126. American sentence
Sorrow's embrace; it may not give comfort, but it's just as inviting.

127. 30 in 30 #2
give​
the tree​
of poetry a shake;​
how wonderful it is, when​
a poem falls far from the trunk...​
a stranger to you, a stranger to me.​
things have the meaning we give them,​
but when meaning is shared, it elevates, it's​
elevated​

128. A triolet of missing words, 30 in 30 #2
these things you took, they are all that I have.
(. . .)
take care what you do with them; I beg you, please,
these things you took, they are all that I have.
give me friendship, and patience; don't let me freeze,
don't let me be misunderstood, nor force me to lie.
these things you took, they were all that I had.
(. . .)

129. American sentence, 30 in 30 #2
The world is a river; everything is flowing inexorably.
I watch, from the shore, probability — such evil determinism...

130. strawberry fields forever, writing live
if
bad becomes worse;
goodwill invested goes sour;
perhaps living is easier with eyes closed —
on auto-pilot, with little to expect or wish?
 
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131. American sentence
I always ask myself: what would Diogenes of Sinope do?

132. American sentence
Man creates himself by acquiring conscience, and then killing ALL gods.

133. American sentence
All other archangels refused God's command to fetch clay to make man.
Most loved by God; only Azrael obeys, retrieving souls from Earth.

134. American sentence
I used to think that my greatest contribution was to stay silent.
No bubbles burst, no hearts broken, no feelings hurt, no beliefs undone.

135. American sentence, Tea
The secret to drinking cold tea is being too lazy to heat it.
The secret to drinking cold tea is adding ice cubes, during summer.

136. American sentence
Too lazy to be lazy; perhaps I should shutdown permanently.

137. A Poet Walks Into a Bar . . .

HarryHill: "yeah, poetry challenge four lines that knock or rock"

do or do not, there's no try
It's a school of hard knocks
either stay afloat,
or sink like a rock

-------

them are some hard knocks,
methinks, like mounds of rock
though I've been wrong before
...calls for careful inspection

-------

knocked over with a clock
to the head; cuckoo, he said
then proceeded to say the hours
for all those who cared.

-------

Knocked ashes into the tray
tastes dark, beyond the throat
a rock, deeply shoved
...and I don't even smoke.

138. all of a sudden passion suddenly
What cannot be put into words,
and what isn't communicated, or
read and acknowledged,
does not exist; isn't that how it goes?
Soulless art, disconnected or
soulful nonsense, too raw
There
Another null set bravely sets out
into the world.

139. all of a sudden passion suddenly :)
There is dust over my eyes,
over my skin like a shell.
These ashes, from mountain rebirth
now taste dark down the throat,
beyond the rock shoved there.
Water does not clean my eyes,
it burns.

140. all of a sudden passion suddenly :)
Weighed, measured, thrown away
before reaching outside
No hope affects so strong
as the one that is lost
Melancholy doesn't stare, it
seeps in, replacing air
Commanding to hold still
lie down, hold breath
 
141. 30 in 30 #3

Arrogant buffoon,
tired of your own reflection.
Painted yourself into a corner,
with whomever enjoys kissing your ass.
Stupid is as stupid does, and you do plenty,
god-like powers cannot protect you from yourself.

ref

142. 30 in 30 #3

11. Threw a grenade into a room; such drama! Not my fault. Bring a mop!

143. all of a sudden passion suddenly

Insensitive poking
pushes beyond self-control
(it's low, right now, I know)
You thought you were discreet
what is so discreet about
a slap to the face?
It made me angry, and
miserable, but don't you know?
You, me; we all reap what we sow,
Together.
Misery has a way of spreading.

144. all of a sudden passion suddenly

Dictionary
The person who doesn't need it,
needs it the most.
Wizened scholar, look these up:
energúmeno, mamón, cagacazzo.

145. writing live :)

Fragile
as silence
lost
as sanity
drips, drips, drips
into a warm pool

146. writing live

wandering, lost
core that gathers
pain, and misery,
rolling downhill,
growing bigger,
bigger still,
breathless deep down,
no longer visible,
or remembered,
breathless
as it speeds into the abyss

dread feeling,
in darkness surrounded
silence, estrangement, indifference
breathless

beaten, it soul-bleeds
it drags itself on its knees
and seeks,
a thing gentle,
to lay its head upon

trust, when it needs most,
trust, why won't it?
trust — to berate, to accuse, to betray

lip sealed,
a self-mutilation
and drip, drip, drip
quench that thirst
and drip, drip, drip
far too red and raw

147. Poetry Fun Corner

eyes closed
teeth cut into
a ripe apple

luscious red
sweet as only
in dreams

eyes open
down Andradas, old cobblestones,
too many feet, too many faces,
corpses swaying, stumbling,
avoid collisions, sweat exchange,
jump the sack of flesh on the ground,
close your nostrils to its spill,
come February part of the scenery,
bar outside the sounds, and ignore
the transgression, the white stripes
they mean nothing, step aside,
survive.

eyes closed
teeth sink, toxic spill
an apple overripe

blackened sick
foul tasting
full of worms

148. Poetry Fun Corner

nature's boon
some apples have fallen,
now rotting on the ground.
some are hanging, close
to the trunk, waiting to be
picked. Some are spread — when
they fall, they'll go far. One
is far up top, as if on a tower,
growing older and older by
the minute. Such disappointment.
Overripe.

149. Hi Ku Cat

different gardens
strange colours and tastes
but
there where the river
bends, twists, we sit.
all together, we watch,
it all flows by,
and ripe apples fall
from the same tree;
humanity

150. writing live

apples, oranges, plums
whichever I choose, it's
my choice to reach for
a thing, or to avoid; or
perhaps it's desire, and
no choice, no choice in
what gives, what takes
and that which stays.
 
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151. writing live

Life, flowing onward
to give life, to move
forward, to be, to go;
but soon, it's time
to let go, for when
things flow in the wrong
direction, death comes.

This thing, that keeps
pumping, grows; it rises,
in strength, in despair,
grasping for life, to be,
to go. To let go. By growing,
it dies, life flows both
ways, toward life, and death.

152. writing live

She says, really, what a simple
creature! But really — what
is so simple about losing
your way, constantly
lured by invisible fire,
snared in strange magnetism?

About having eyes easily
bribed, drawn by sights
swaying, oh. so. sweet. — that move
not beyond, but before control,
and linger, linger too long
thus soon caught by her eyes?

About being in a body readily
announcing secret thoughts,
roused for her to see?
Woe me! No — wooing won't be
necessary; I will gladly throw myself
in the trap, as long as it is sweet.

153. writing live / Poetry Fun Corner #2

UnderYourSpell: Tsotha your next subject is 'walking in the forest'

Hot air condenses to join
the mist. Cold cheeks red
warm blood running
he speeds away on small feet
crushing dry needles, crossing
boundaries of light, chasing
something immaterial.

A branch to fend off enemies
hits a rock, something's
revealed — reach for it,
cold little fingers growing
still, lively, curious — still
the thing stings, he is
unaware of danger.

Hated shriek,
to put it down,
to make aware,
to protect.

154. writing live

Trees are falling
I notice
only as much as you, until
there is nothing to hide
behind, only
useless stumps and no sprouts,
no green
in a vast barren land.

155. writing live

Hot air
a red balloon,
a shot in the dark.

Deflated,
trampled underfoot,
breathe right through it.

156. writing live

effusive fudge, civilized
smart monkey and smart
phonies, like a sheep in
wolf skin

and the wolf,
the wolf, to the jugular.
Hm, tasty.

157. writing live

Take that mummy outta
your closet, it's getting old
smelly and the garden needs
a scarecrow
win-win, watch the worm
crawling crows cawing
meanwhile
the sun
a new golden age in the making

158. writing live

what a strange way to
nurture new hands
Poética Obscura
paint it red,
bloody breaking of walls
rocks into gravel
groveling

Cat's call,
first row in the theater
a ridiculous person
I may be, but
I'd rather take the kiss

159. all of a sudden passion suddenly :)

You have no power to
harm me; the words of a
poet have no meaning.
The pen isn't a sword.

Words cannot hurt, or heal.
They cannot mend a soul.
Harm exists insubstantial,
figments locked in my head.

No bleeding appendices,
no broken hearts.
Friends?
Trust? Love? All impossible.

zero one zero one
MINUS one zero one
zero —- that's the sum
the meaning of all

these words we trade —-
nothing but a pointless
exercise in lip flapping.
Except I'm not a robot.

160. all of a sudden passion suddenly

glass in my brain
little shards down a vein
silicon
metabolizes amidst my
chemistry
one step closer to transcendence
a Higher Lifeform
 
161. 30 edits in 30 days #1 - combined #60, #63 and #119 :)

Things have the meaning we give them —
yet only when you give me meaning
do my meanings matter to myself.
When you leave, left to my own devices,
I'm left wondering.
Wish I had a mental detector, to avoid
minefields of words I don't hear.

162. Poetry Post-its, or Po-Bo postcards

Dear Earth,
My head is spinning
faster than you are
I'm confused enough
as it is, all these tidbits
help none. Kindly stop,
let me out, gracefully.
Some dignity kept, no spill.
Out to outer space,
into perspective.

163. Poetry Fun Corner #3

UnderYourSpell: Tsotha your new subject is 'does she still think of me'

My day has too many pockets.
Invested like coins, my thoughts
hide and vanish through holes.
(cowardly lint)
Does she still think of me?
From feeling and thinking too much,
my garden was made bare.
(painful picking)
Petal after petal, ripped
to flutter convoluted, uncaught
by breeze, but onto ground.
(underneath feet)
My heart, ground, was the
weak link in the chain that bound.
But I still think of her.
(sometimes)
What am I to do with
this indifference, and silence?
Does she still think of me?
(unknown, unresolved)

164. 30 edits in 30 days #1

You and me

We are like a bonsai tree.

A pretty seed meant for great things
planted in a pot too small. Gnarled
by force, fed by roots too starved,
sustaining atrophied limbs, cut again
and again, never meant to bear fruit.

.................An experiment, perfect in its execution,
............................good only for exposition.

165. 30 edits in 30 days #1 - combined #15 and #21

Carpe diem

Dreams give way to swirling dark
noise before eyes, before sound
the smell of coffee.

Kickstart and stretch, take care
of things (if you need), then eat
shove it inside your mouth, feed
the big bad insect thing inside you.

Stop.
Don't forget,
the crosswords they keep you
able to spill words like an idiot.

Lazy days fade away to nothing
shine 'em up, working boots
'cause carpe diem, baby. Result's
off the curve, faster — you rebel!

So reckless.

166. A Poet Walks Into a Bar . . . :)

what does a stone care for the tide?
surface is a distant dream
to roam as floating foam
to the shore and away
instead it sinks
all the way
down​

167. 30 edits in 30 days #1

You and me

We are like a bonsai tree.


............A pretty seed meant
...for great things planted in a pot
too small. Gnarled by force, fed by roots too starved,
....sustaining.......atrophied limbs, cut again
...............................and again, never meant
.....................................
to
.......................................bear
.........................................fruit.
.................An experiment, perfect in its execution,
............................good only for exposition.

168. Bite me

Friends and not friends
all over the world
wave that big stick
over someone else's head
my price, I get not in blood
weep
all these invisible lines
connecting nothing
...makes sense to somebody

169. Bite me

everything happens for a reason
so when a plane crashes into a building,
should I weep because it happened?
or should I weep for what led to that moment?
there is nothing human about humanity

170. Hi Ku Cat

flip the switch, lick and abandon
ship for a moment of peace
skipper off deck — jump
unaware, overboard, join
the rats, soak in lies,
poison and F U N;
become happier, healthier,
a highly functional,
productive and emotionally viable
rat being
 
Ooh, this is gonna be fun! And inspiring. #1, stanzas 2 &3 have a hazy dream quality. If you rethought this around those two stanzas and kept the same feel it could be a very lovely poem, whether sweet or melancholy.
 
Ooh, this is gonna be fun! And inspiring. #1, stanzas 2 &3 have a hazy dream quality. If you rethought this around those two stanzas and kept the same feel it could be a very lovely poem, whether sweet or melancholy.

Thank you for the suggestion. The first three stanze are actually part of a recurring dream for me, which I had a long time ago. I'll see about rewriting around stanze 2 and 3.
 
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