30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

3-12 Aug/14

7 a.m.

Fog lifts as if a wind
somehow got beneath an edge
and tore it free of moorings
to flip flop it away in tumbles
weathering in from the west.

All blue skies travel that way
on the jetstream, high in atmosphere
pushing clouds ahead of a bubble
of clarity in the cool of night.

Somehow the dew falls in a sparse
sheet of dampness on the grass
that makes the dog mince on dainty paws
when he rushes out for morning duty.

A smile curls its way with coffee
steam from the brim of a mug full
of caffeine alertness and sugared
energy needed as much as air
and a lover's kisses every day.
 
3-13 Aug/14

I Hate Sleeping Under Fans

In August
the steady wind
like a Santa Ana
driving fools mad
in cyclonic howls
and constant pressure
against sweaty skin
and salt-parched lips
because every last
drop of moisture
has been blown away
with the whir of blades
humming constantly
like tinnitus you can
shut off but if you do
the sudden stillness
hits your skin like heat
from an opened oven
smashes into your face
where all perspiration
has been evaporated
walloping it so that your
eyes sting and the hair
inside your nose
stands up free
of whatever your body
has been using to cope
with dog days and mad
nights of late
summer sultries.
 
3-14 Aug/14

Double Fib Burn

Smile
sparks
a flame
candlelit
glow of heat and fire
dims once melted wax drips down
along the taper
long slender
honey
scents
you.
 
3-15 Aug/14

No Watermelon For You!

You didn't listen. No, not one bit
when daddy told you, you must be still.
Now no one expected you to sit
without moving or to be quiet until

you died of boredom. "There's a treat
at the end of this torturous time,"
said mom. "So come over here, have a seat."
But you chose instead to commit the crime

of knocking on the door, behind which sat Dad
who had asked you twice if you understood.
But no sir, you chose that you'd be bad
instead of behaving and being so good

like the watermelon on the table just sitting
for your face to bury in it and smiles
on your lips as you lick the juice, fitting
the rind in your mouth although it is miles

too big for your lips. But here comes a yell
from behind the door. Is that how you're still?
Oh my child now what will we do?
I guess you know, it's no watermelon for you!

(This is awful, but it was a poetry worm I wanted to save. I'll edit later)
 
3-16 Aug/14

The Pain of Muted Life

Tonight makes a wonder out of love
when our only painless moments
arrive on the heels of little deaths
played out on tired flesh and worn
technique but yet so comfortable

that we can fall to slumber still.
Restless legs bend and stretch
seeking a place where comfort
outweighs the ache of steel
prosthetics where bone once
tried to hold it all together, sinew
couldn't make it work and now

I ache when narcotics take away
too much living when I'm awake.
I know you ache, too. Shared
discomfort was never one of your
habits but now I pester you
until you let me know that even so,
you'll live through it this time
won't drag you to the brink

where you sat staring for long hours
at nothing where you should have
seen all of the richness that life
with us, inadequate humans, fills
the view with reasons not to go.
 
3-17 Aug/14

Punctuated Grain Alcohol

I have come full circle to a end-stopped
rhyme. A caesura in the middle of a line,
and a down beat somewhere along the string
of words that suggest we can dance to this.

But is it just the timing or does the melody
play the harmonies in the back, like a finger
-picked song on an old twelve-string guitar
plucks the words, and strums the chorus
in time with a bass line blown into a jug?

The nasally twang of a blue-grass sinner
sings the song about God and sorrow. A song
that lifts the music from the dust shuffled
up outta the boards on the malting floor,
and you can smell the whisky the grain

becomes, when 'stilled, and bottled,
and swigged, right along with the sweat
-beaded brow of the moonshiner's smile,
when it proofs out to a real fine batch.
 
3-18 Aug/14

Laundry Day

His presence continues
to fill my day with each snap
of a pristine shirt-tail when I bring
it in and inspect my handiwork.

I can't find that stain he bled
onto the collar when he cut
his jaw with those cheap
disposable razors,

and I think about asking him
who wears that particular shade
of pink on her lips. But then I
wonder if I should make waves.

Especially now. Those sun bleached,
baby-soft diapers still clothe
a tender reminder of that night;
when everything was soft, and glowed

in the pool of light. When flickered
stop motion animation shadows on the wall
danced beside the bed. He peeled away
the silk nothings and kissed each inch

of breast and hip revealled by their
fluttering descent to the floor.
I can't destroy that moment with this
but I can't live, knowing his body

seeks pleasure from a pretty girl
who likely doesn't even know I exist.
Does he remember who I am? Does he
even care that I wash his clothes?
 
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3-19 Aug/14

Feminine Animus

She works and plays with the boys
and they get that her needs
are just as powerful as theirs.

She doesn't sleep with men
she keeps as friends
because they know.

They just know that her sex
drives hard and they need soft
women who don't understand
what men want but who try
more than she ever could.

She delivers her mouth,
her tongue and lips willingly
open and willing to swallow
his explosions and is aroused

by that giving of herself
but she doesn't need
to be coaxed to give.

She demands they take
her offering without all
the niceties that seem
attached to her sexuality.

She wants strength.

Orgasms come easy
and sincerity matters
more than technique,
at least the first time.

She never regrets her lust
and doesn't expect lasting
attachment. She doesn't cling
and gets annoyed when
he tries to hold her down.
 
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3-20 Aug/14

On Edge

He fell into the role of lover
without ever knowing
how he stepped over the edge
and tumbled into living

a different day than the success
he'd planned and anticipated.
This happiness couldn't be
erased or altered. Not now,

now that he'd tasted
her skin, touched her empty
heart, and with their souls
entwined filled it up

with music. A lyric in magic
harmony that their sex pulses
for and their smiles lift up,
to crescendo then crash.

Two people finding new success,
excited in anticipation of more
without worry of how near
the edge their step becomes.
 
3-21 Aug/14

ECG

sinus
rhythm
jumps up
ventricular
fibrillation beats
a background clamour and dances
the merengue there
in my chest
inside
my
heart

(I go for my annual echo today. One day before the eighth anniversary of my second rebirth. Nerves are normal.)
 
3-22 Aug/14

The Frivolous Verses

1. Jessica

The nubile buds on your chest
so coyly covered by silken lace
and foam pressed into perfect rounds
under your deftly painted face.

2. Brittany

You don't subscribe to frippery
unless the perfect shade of pink
would go well with your rosy lips
so delicate and frilly, or so you think.

3. Ashley

A girl's -- No, woman's! choice of dress
shows taste and maybe a lotta class
but you don't waste it on the unseen
you'd rather pay to shape your ass.

4. Taylor

Jeans show the world your style
and so you've only ever bought
the ones with logos on the right.
The left is tacky, you've always thought.

5. Samantha

Pretty dresses that show the curve
of breast and hip and narrow waist,
for summer. Cut the hem not too high,
Daddy still believes you're chaste

6. Martha

"My God," you think. "Don't these girls have brains?"
They shop for hours and think they're smart
but over in lingerie you smile at the girls
they'll be workin' here with you, at this very WalMart.
 
3-23 Aug/14

Girls I'd Like to Kiss #1
Nora Jones


Your lips do more than sing
me jazz. They tantalize
in full softeness to match
the line of your cheek
the curve of your pointed
chin. Close those almond eyes
as my breath flutters
against your lashes. I can't
bear to see the glitter
of your dulcet tones. A shine
so bright it dulls the world
and everything in it; unless
I can hear the lyric of taste,
texture, and soul crooned
as if you give me a lullabye.
 
3-24 Aug/14

Sonnet To My Military Lovers

Where have my kisses fallen soft upon the day
and when and how? I dream a memory of your chest
beneath my cheek until I wake from napping rest
as the light strikes and I chase the ghosts away
Morning brings pain surcease and my heart weeps
no more for youths have fled beyond my dreamless night
unless I hold them close within my dawn's delight
and then the sensuous glow allows this joy to seep
through the sunbeams and thaw the icy rime
after winter's cold I stretch in new-roused heat
and bask in reminders of the world spread at my feet
when a forgotten lover kissed me in a different time
and I gave in to that sweet boy's pleading lips
to join him in gulping love instead of taking merely sips.
 
3-25 Aug/14

Girls I'd Like to Kiss #2
Anna Paquin


It's all about those curves
your lips turn like winding
channels through a natural
landscape of gap-toothed
grin, sloped gradient of jaw,
and a neck that takes
the long way through natural
mounds via a cleavage
ready to press full against.
Playing with your mouth
reminds of fruit gels
that will burst wet
flavour if you but suck
and pull on them hard enough.
Bruises will only enhance
your pout and your answered
roughness only proves you know.
 
3-26 Aug/14

Girls I'd Like to Kiss #3
Lucy Lui


You've become an incredible cougar
with genetic resistance to ungainly
age. Hair still black as the ink
used to draw the characters
of your name. And I whisper the "luh"
and lick the "ooo" that sing
in consonants and vowels,
the shape your lips describe
when they press against mine.
We discover sugar coats
and honey gloss can delight
our tongues as much as your golden
skin delights my fingers.
Like the brush chasing the shiver
of sensation across the inkstone,
as smooth as your flesh before
dipping into the ink down lower.
As delicate as the rice paper
your kiss is written on.
 
3-27 Aug/14

Girls I'd Like to Kiss #4
Sarah Jones


Your youth belies the experience
your eyes bring to the game.
You've got designs on the world
with that pouty glance, sideways;
but still your chin points
forward, like the barrel of a gun,
while your thumb cocks the hammer
of your lips. When did you know
that you can lure anyone
into that trap of your marine
-hued stare and softest cheek?
Let me pull the trigger and take
the bullet you fire straight
through my desire. Goddamn,
girl. Just, goddamn.
 
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3-28 Aug/14

Girls I'd Like to Kiss #5
Lupita Nyong'o


Did a fuscia spill its petals
all over your lips? They shine
like syrup glazed a cherry
blossom sending it in a spiral
fall that ended right against
your mouth. My tongue longs
to taste the candy floss
you must have stolen
from the vendor. That shade
of lustful does not occur
all by itself in nature. Frown,
smile, sneer, or pout at me
and I will die in a diabetic
coma from the delight you ooze
straight from your chocolate eyes.
 
3-29 Aug/14

Denial Villanelle

Don't whisper words into my ear
when you can't say the lies
I really want to hear

Those words that bring my love near
those songs that truth denies
don't whisper words into my ear

Give me the fables of lust instead, dear
those words of desire and sighs
I really want to hear

If you but say them my smile would appear
but said loud says that you try
no more to whisper words into my ear

I love you is not murky it's clear
as sure as the crow flies
I really want to hear

That you can show this and not fear
the consequence of telling me lies
so now whisper words into my ear
I do really want to hear.
 
3-30 Aug/14

Enfin

"Free at last! Free at last!"
I can feel the prayer
he called to the heavens
as he proclaimed the cry
that all peoples will send
spinning through space
and time to become truth
after mankind has no more
grace to offer and is done.
After humanity has no more
empathy for suffering,
since all the Earth suffered
for one bit of selfish
supposition that my God
is not your God and never
will we sit on the same pew
in the same celebration
of everything being right
in the world. Oh Lord!
Let me live to exclaim,
"Thank God almighty
we are free at last!"
 
5-1

1. NaNoWriFi

A
fib
or two
but really
30 poems or so
in a Fibonacci design
I've chosen for its
normative
value
(I
think).
 
5-2

Chilly Fib

Blow
winds
and crack
earth to dust,
tear leaves from the branch.
The naked shiver of winter
is upon us now--
Demeter
must bow
her
head.
 
5-3

Interrogative Fib

Am
I
naive?
Innocence
is overrated
especially at this juncture
of seasons--autumn
fading fast,
winter
on
tap.
 
my post for today

Her hair flows like a gentle stream,
Her eyes follow like a lover's dream.
She licks her lips as if they were mine,
she climbs up to me wasting no time.
I tremble at her wanting gaze,
My need for her sending me in a daze.
She smiles at me as she parts her lips,
Her hair covering my hips.
I close my eyes feeling her tongue dance,
My body moving as if in a trance.
I awake to find no one there,
And all I can remember is her flowing hair.
 
5-4

Kind of Blue Fib

Sure.
The
skies like
cornflower
blanketing cotton
and the day breaking through the mist.
Sure it's like that here,
but the jazz
is what
gets
me.
 
5-5

Hopeful Fib

I
can't
stop my
desire,
thinking of whirling
prayer flags, bright wings on better days
tilting at the Sun,
tomorrow
getting
close
now.
 
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