30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)
- Thread starter Neonurotic
- Start date
Remec
Master Glomper
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3-18
On the Balcony
Breathing in her sweat was
more than I needed to
show her my interest as her
hair brushed my face,
tickling against nose and lips
feather-light, and my tongue
savored the salt of the skin
along her nape and about the
curve of her ear, teeth toying
with that dangling lobe, my
fingers slipping beneath her
Fantasia pajama top, dancing
mushrooms moving atop my
hands in new, yet familiar, ways.
On the Balcony
Breathing in her sweat was
more than I needed to
show her my interest as her
hair brushed my face,
tickling against nose and lips
feather-light, and my tongue
savored the salt of the skin
along her nape and about the
curve of her ear, teeth toying
with that dangling lobe, my
fingers slipping beneath her
Fantasia pajama top, dancing
mushrooms moving atop my
hands in new, yet familiar, ways.
Wintermute01
Walking in the S plane
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2011
- Posts
- 6,340
1-25
That small word threw me,
Of shots issued in the dark;
Not good, drunk nor fired.
That small word threw me,
Of shots issued in the dark;
Not good, drunk nor fired.
Wintermute01
Walking in the S plane
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- Jul 28, 2011
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1-26 Ascent
Suited
Bone dome in place
And strapped in so tightly
I slide throttle levers forward
The world roars by, first horizontally
Then it rotates and recedes behind me
Digits flick past, unreadable
Clouds, punched through, yield for me
Air gets thinner
Blue-black.
Suited
Bone dome in place
And strapped in so tightly
I slide throttle levers forward
The world roars by, first horizontally
Then it rotates and recedes behind me
Digits flick past, unreadable
Clouds, punched through, yield for me
Air gets thinner
Blue-black.
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,055
3-25
Carnival of Swing
(May 29, 1938)
Imagine first a grand Spring day--the air
lifted on the breeze honeysuckle rose
and all the city greening ripe, a fair
display of bird and boulevard compose
a rapid scene so hurry dancing feet
lifted on the breeze honeysuckle rose,
such jazz like Pan or Jezabel, the beat
a wailing rhythm rolling like a train
a rapid scene so hurry dancing feet
leap passionate and loose-limbed don't explain
your thing just move it on--that sound ignites
a wailing rhythm rolling like a train
and all the horns rain down the Sun invites
the crowd to sing aloud revel and fling
your thing just move it on--that sound ignites
the world and teaches it to jump and swing.
Imagine first a grand Spring day the air,
the crowd, to sing aloud revel and fling
and all the city greening ripe. A fair.
Inspiration
Carnival of Swing
(May 29, 1938)
Imagine first a grand Spring day--the air
lifted on the breeze honeysuckle rose
and all the city greening ripe, a fair
display of bird and boulevard compose
a rapid scene so hurry dancing feet
lifted on the breeze honeysuckle rose,
such jazz like Pan or Jezabel, the beat
a wailing rhythm rolling like a train
a rapid scene so hurry dancing feet
leap passionate and loose-limbed don't explain
your thing just move it on--that sound ignites
a wailing rhythm rolling like a train
and all the horns rain down the Sun invites
the crowd to sing aloud revel and fling
your thing just move it on--that sound ignites
the world and teaches it to jump and swing.
Imagine first a grand Spring day the air,
the crowd, to sing aloud revel and fling
and all the city greening ripe. A fair.
Inspiration
Remec
Master Glomper
- Joined
- Jun 28, 2003
- Posts
- 8,437
3-20
"....and them unicorns looked up
from the rocks and they cried...."
I always loved that song,
even bittersweet as it was,
the Rovers were no stranger
to our house...between them
and the Clancys (not to mention
Tommy Makem)...I had an oddly
inflected sort of childhood.
But I often wondered, when it
would come along, if those
playful, absent-minded unicorns
hadn't manged to adapt to the
raging waters of the Flood.
Narwhals have to have come
from somewhere, right?
"....and them unicorns looked up
from the rocks and they cried...."
I always loved that song,
even bittersweet as it was,
the Rovers were no stranger
to our house...between them
and the Clancys (not to mention
Tommy Makem)...I had an oddly
inflected sort of childhood.
But I often wondered, when it
would come along, if those
playful, absent-minded unicorns
hadn't manged to adapt to the
raging waters of the Flood.
Narwhals have to have come
from somewhere, right?
Wintermute01
Walking in the S plane
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2011
- Posts
- 6,340
1-27
What's to be done
When the stabled horse bolts?
When train wreck happening
Is explained in the past tense?
What's to be done
When the alarm hasn't rung?
When the opening eye
Sees a backlit curtain?
What's to be done
When the fender is bent?
When the crunched metal sound
Is a finished tune?
What's to be done
When the key has slipped?
When the fob chings
And goes down the grid?
What's to be done
When my lack of attention
Makes you write a note
Left on the mantelpiece?
What's to be done?
What's to be done
When the stabled horse bolts?
When train wreck happening
Is explained in the past tense?
What's to be done
When the alarm hasn't rung?
When the opening eye
Sees a backlit curtain?
What's to be done
When the fender is bent?
When the crunched metal sound
Is a finished tune?
What's to be done
When the key has slipped?
When the fob chings
And goes down the grid?
What's to be done
When my lack of attention
Makes you write a note
Left on the mantelpiece?
What's to be done?
Last edited:
Wintermute01
Walking in the S plane
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- Jul 28, 2011
- Posts
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1-28
Three more now to go
I'll keep bashing these damn keys
And now there are two.
Three more now to go
I'll keep bashing these damn keys
And now there are two.
Remec
Master Glomper
- Joined
- Jun 28, 2003
- Posts
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3-21
Some days are maudlin,
greyness simmering but
never quite boiling over
to put out the flame below
or burning off the fluid
to let the pot steam itself
to ruin;
Some days are weighty,
pounding pulses upon the brain
that echo from temple to temple
and all about the space within
making it such a chore even
to think;
Some days are swollen.
joints forecasting more of the same
slowing down reactions, energy,
emotion to more creep than crawl
while putting pieces to paper is
barely any better than finding pills
to pop;
Some days...
Some days are golden,
fresh and fraught with vision
and promise that lips smile
without having to be told,
my entire body seems to only
be awaiting its next chance,
even if it's the last one,
of finding itself next
to you.
Some days are maudlin,
greyness simmering but
never quite boiling over
to put out the flame below
or burning off the fluid
to let the pot steam itself
to ruin;
Some days are weighty,
pounding pulses upon the brain
that echo from temple to temple
and all about the space within
making it such a chore even
to think;
Some days are swollen.
joints forecasting more of the same
slowing down reactions, energy,
emotion to more creep than crawl
while putting pieces to paper is
barely any better than finding pills
to pop;
Some days...
Some days are golden,
fresh and fraught with vision
and promise that lips smile
without having to be told,
my entire body seems to only
be awaiting its next chance,
even if it's the last one,
of finding itself next
to you.
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,055
3-28
Blue in Green
This feeling must be
like moments before
a seed germinates
or nanoseconds
till a cell divides,
quiet but purposeful.
Maybe it's weighted
like a slurp of ocean
deep and distant
moving without
knowing, pulled
from the Moon.
It's just modal
progression, note
following note gentle
precise shading,
coloration flowing
like peace.
Blue in Green
This feeling must be
like moments before
a seed germinates
or nanoseconds
till a cell divides,
quiet but purposeful.
Maybe it's weighted
like a slurp of ocean
deep and distant
moving without
knowing, pulled
from the Moon.
It's just modal
progression, note
following note gentle
precise shading,
coloration flowing
like peace.
Wintermute01
Walking in the S plane
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2011
- Posts
- 6,340
1-29 The Shared Experience.
Edited
Edited
Last edited:
Remec
Master Glomper
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- Jun 28, 2003
- Posts
- 8,437
3-22 Foretelling
There's an opening in my heart to let;
where lay many soft, silky petals;
prophetically torn, are allowed to fall
wherever gravity let's them fall;
It's a wonder that I even let
my fate (future?) be told by petals;
Sometimes, though, it would seem that petals
know more than I about who would fall
with me over the precipice...so I let...
I let the petals fall; she loves me.
There's an opening in my heart to let;
where lay many soft, silky petals;
prophetically torn, are allowed to fall
wherever gravity let's them fall;
It's a wonder that I even let
my fate (future?) be told by petals;
Sometimes, though, it would seem that petals
know more than I about who would fall
with me over the precipice...so I let...
I let the petals fall; she loves me.
Wintermute01
Walking in the S plane
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2011
- Posts
- 6,340
1-30 A double acrostic
Finished
For each of these last thirty days I have penned
Inscriptions in verse and sometimes with rhyme.
Now that this last day is here I sigh
In part with relief but also with sadness.
Surprised by this feeling of loss and ennui
Having no more this cause for expression.
Eventually I'm sure, I'll rejoin you magi,
Drawn back to this task, is how I see myself.
Finished
For each of these last thirty days I have penned
Inscriptions in verse and sometimes with rhyme.
Now that this last day is here I sigh
In part with relief but also with sadness.
Surprised by this feeling of loss and ennui
Having no more this cause for expression.
Eventually I'm sure, I'll rejoin you magi,
Drawn back to this task, is how I see myself.
Remec
Master Glomper
- Joined
- Jun 28, 2003
- Posts
- 8,437
3-26
The warm butter-and-salt
smell of freshly reheated,
packaged popcorn filled
the small hallway leading
from the concourse up to
the auditorium's seating,
it reminded me I had skipped
dinner and rekindled the
stale taste of cheap chips
lingering in my mouth from the
drive over after work,
Just as we found out seats,
a drum roll erupted,
the heavy spot came on,
illuminating the Ringmaster,
She gripped my arm and pointed
with excitement and her
semi-patented squeal. I smiled
even as I checked my arm for
broken skin and traces of blood.
Remind me to trim those nails.
The warm butter-and-salt
smell of freshly reheated,
packaged popcorn filled
the small hallway leading
from the concourse up to
the auditorium's seating,
it reminded me I had skipped
dinner and rekindled the
stale taste of cheap chips
lingering in my mouth from the
drive over after work,
Just as we found out seats,
a drum roll erupted,
the heavy spot came on,
illuminating the Ringmaster,
She gripped my arm and pointed
with excitement and her
semi-patented squeal. I smiled
even as I checked my arm for
broken skin and traces of blood.
Remind me to trim those nails.
Remec
Master Glomper
- Joined
- Jun 28, 2003
- Posts
- 8,437
3-27 Acid Picnic
blotter dissolves on tongue
taste of paper like to
snacking on air,
savor the shade as I lie
on a spread blanket
beneath a favorite tree,
listening to it drink in
the sunlight,
the scent of the warming
light on the leaves
filtering down to me
blotter dissolves on tongue
taste of paper like to
snacking on air,
savor the shade as I lie
on a spread blanket
beneath a favorite tree,
listening to it drink in
the sunlight,
the scent of the warming
light on the leaves
filtering down to me
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