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March Same title Challenge .... Poems

UnderYourSpell

UnderYourSpell

Gerund Whore
Joined
May 20, 2007
Posts
15,794
This thread is reserved for responses to the March Same Title Challenge. Please post questions, comments, and guesses in the main contest thread HERE
 
1 .......... Piscator
A Blitz

Bucket of bivlaves

Cherish the oysters
Cherish the clams
Clams of freshwater
Clams of salt
Salt of earth
Salt of ocean
Ocean of tears
Ocean of multitudes
Multitudes of ships
Multitudes of mussels
Muscles in ballast
Mussels on anchors
Anchors holdfast
Anchors aweigh, boys
Boys and girls together one
Buoys soon encrusted
Encrusted with shells
Entrusted with dreams
Dreams of conquest
Dreams of dominion
Dominion through fecundity
Dominion o'er Lakes Great
Great was conception
Grate mussels to sap
Sap strained of shells
Sap of fertility
Fertility for the masses
Fertility thy name is woman
Woman where goest thou
Woman why does thou weep
Weep for what has been
Weep for what's to come
Come from far and near
Come together children
Children without smiles
Children with only fear
Fear of man-eating clams
Fear of world grown warmer
Warmer by degrees
Warmer as I breathe
Breathe deeply now
Breath as waters rise
Rise from distant ice fields
Rise and shine
Shine over quiet waters
Shine over sunken cities
Cities covered by mollusks
Cities lost, leaving only
Only
Mollusks
 
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2 Guilty Pleasure


The Fertility of Rosamunda

Fecund in the scheme of things
Even in her leaner years
Rosamunda had her flings
Taking her from old Algiers
Illinos to Adelaide
Leaving broken hearts behind
In the places where she stayed
Toddlers, teens of every kind
Years much later spring to mind.
 
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3 Angeline

In the season of my wedding my cause is beauty.
I yearn to open in joy and singing. The men drum

and call our stories in rough voices, praise
Elohim, our people, our beginnings and endings.

They seek an ecstasy of truth: let not the heart
deceive the eye; let not the eye rule the heart.

Men dance to preserve our history, the destruction
of our Temple, the foretold return to our land

but I am in the company of women: generations
of mothers and sisters come to purify and anoint me.

One ceremony flows to the next. My hair
is thick and glorious, my skin the color of honey.

My eyes are dark as fecund earth, rimmed in kohl,
and I sit among the women with their silver voices

and finger cymbals, the incense curling around us.
They feed me figs and sips of arak until the room

shimmers gold and they laugh shouting kulululululu
and I am stilled, submitted to the stylus painting me

in resin mixed with frankincense, myrrh and iron,
painting my hands feet arms legs with flowers, vines

of paisley and elaborate winking eyes all pointing
to my hips and the crossroads of paradise.

Kulululululu, your husband will follow the path
to your garden. May you be the mother of multitudes.
 
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4 Sinseria

It is said
Spring is where
All life began

Whispered as a lullaby
in a song of ancient lore
as a season of fantasy

Where tales are told
about the Mother of Love
and the birthing of the sun

To waken from sleep
and longing dreams
from the tales of winters told

To rekindle with verses
the blossoms of life
and the hearth of love

Held in the soothing rains
caressed in the cooling breeze of spring
and humbled to the warming kiss of the sun

To arise in union
with the buzzing of bumble bees
and fluttering of humming birds

Softened with sweet kisses
upon the nectar of the mornings dew
of life birthed anew

To feel as lover’s do
and taste the fevered spices
in a season of creation

As it is said
that the very air breathes
as fertility.
 
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5 Lyricali


Ensconced in moist warmth
embraced in earthy delight
until the day comes
to break through the barrier
push through resistance
and reach for the glory of light.
 
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6 Magnetron

All that stands
between
you
and
I
is
a cavernous fortress laboriously chis-chis-
chiseled from glacial ice spacious
yet mightily stalagmite tightly
guarding the warm hearth of a fertile goddess;
this veritable chastity belt of climactic
climate change leaving generations unborn
no possible future
but
for my fanned ember
combusting
spontaneously within a much darker
previously unexplored crevice
rendering the whole of your palace glass
with a burning
melt away
sensation felt throughout
the chamber now dripping
with white hot slag.
 
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7 Harry Hill

Felicity found it in the garden,
hard round and blue surprise,
shy luster of scarlet opalescence
dancing around the globe,
such a strange thing to find there
in ground long known and used

She stooped to haunches, cocked a head,
drew eyes close, sent questing thoughts
falling immeasurable into sanguine depths,
there in the last days of winter
in earth preparing for spring

Inside, it seemed, there was a shape
lit by dawn's birth of a timid sun,
extended hands and pulled it free,
solid as a rock, but light,
warm to the touch and scented
with old sage and cardamom

Why, it's a star seed, she mused
and, as the thought took hold,
breath caught wonder came upon her;
as heavens ovule split, cosmic winds
blew free a spark which spilt,
there in the last days of winter
on earth calling for spring

To a bosom then cheek and last,
pressed between trembling thighs,
held to the nest of her fertile center
that ground long known, well used,
burning with abandoned lust and scented
with musk, blood and prolonged yearning

Eyes closed with her release, she spewed
cosmic seeds into an alternate dimension,
to an earth in the last days of winter
where a woman waited for spring

Felicity found it in the garden.
 
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8 UnderYourSpell

In-fertility

Vacant cradle and arms. Bereft emptiness. The regrets are too late.
 
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9 Guilty Pleasure

Fear of Fertility

I don’t want to blow up like a balloon
Or waddle like a pregnant eider duck
and look just like I swallowed the full moon.

I’ve argued that we might begin too soon
Because if we did that would really suck
I don’t want to blow up like a balloon

He espouses love in the afternoon
But then I might get pregnant with my luck
End up looking like I swallowed the moon.

He’s pestering, singing the same old tune
About starting a family, the schmuck
I don’t want to blow up like a balloon

Then there’s expenses and he’s no tycoon
If he get’s a raise I’ll be thunderstruck,
end up looking like I swallowed the moon.

I want my child born with a silver spoon
Or marry a very wealthy canuck
I just don’t want to look like a balloon
Or appear to have swallowed the full moon.
 
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10 butters

Rust moon stares
eye too dry to blink
as night
sinks
shares its languorous shawl
- a humid air -
across the greening corn
whose upright flesh
- pressed urgent from the soil -
is now all splashed in black that
shallows
slow
sticky...

Beneath unhallowed land
thin white things stir
spool, unspool in boneless squirm
in nitrogen-excitement
in
fertility's darkest dance.
 
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11 Always Hungry

My love for you is pristine as the air
that swirls around the summits
and carries faint transparent vapors
that mysteriously coalesce
to tiny ice-kaleidoscopes that glide
and dip, and kiss a surface where they linger,
these emissaries of my love,
until the most propitious moment comes
to swim your channel down below,
to penetrate the aromatic loam
that pulses with élan vital,
where microbe legions teem and burgeon,
where the scent of our amour abounds
and triumphs.
 
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13 UnderYourSpell

I got a call at work today,
she needed my virility,.
She'd read her charts and temps and things
and was ripe with her fertility.

I groaned, it wasn't that I mind
jumping into bed,
but rather on my own terms
than something that she'd read.

But I sighed and knew I'd have no rest
until the deed was done,
so rushed on home immediately
determined to have some fun.

I fucked her in the conservatory,
I fucked her in the hall.
Even managed to get some too
when she sucked upon one ball.

I fucked her in the shit hole
until she yelled "Not there!"
So changed to Karma Sutra, but
got tangled in her hair.

I even got her sat astride
to let me take a break,
there's only so much pumping
a virile man can take.

But now I am exhausted
many times I've done the deed,
as she lies there, legs up-ended
overflowing with my seed.
 
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14 Remec

There once was an old man named Phil,
Who's dating life was often quite ill,
It seemed that his dong,
Was terribly wrong,
Without taking a little blue pill.
 
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15 Ashesh

the idea of Fertility
though it easily rhymes
with Futility...
but of course it ain't futile
it's got Utility
fertile soil can support crops
& hungry over populated Society
also wide hipped , strong thighed
fertile matronly Beauty
can bear healthy children
& that by itself wins...
her Popularity
but even as I spin this verse
I now get total Clarity
'tis an evil , fertile mind that sets
a challenge on Fertility
........amen.
 
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16 Sinseria

Held in hate
we broke the world.

The heart of life
has died in its complacency.
Weakened in its atrocity
a mass of crumbled society

Diffident in faith
man has defined.
Rued in fear
unjustified.

Erupted in war
condemned our humanity
and abandoned our souls
as the helpless and weak.

Cast aside all judgment
bestowed by the will of man
And remember your dreams
to fly beyond the trepid skies of reality

Open your mind to believe
look beyond the destroyed.
Past the shattered image of man
forget the heart of fear and live.

Only you can mend the broken world
Only you can heal the human race
Within you and only you resides
the fertility of life.
 
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17 Ashesh

Fertile ?
Which ?
What?
Who ?
Why ?
The test tube ?
The implantologist ?
The IVF procedure itself ??
The surrogate rent-a-womb ???
That time of the month .....
When the ovaries are most receptive ....even lusty ?!
The mind shuts down boggled at the sheer possibilities ......
The poor imagination does'nt appear to be at all Fertile !!
 
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18 Trixareforkids

I thought myself past the age
past the need for it
I had borne all I intended to
and was just getting on
with the necessities of living
when some bell inside me
clanged out a new old tune
reawakening me to all the improbabilities
that could be
if only I'd investigate
the impossible
possibilities
of my imagination.
 
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19 Greenmountaineer

What Breasts Are For

Had Yahweh lived within her heart,
or even Zeus with all his schemes,
she may have asked Herodias
why not merely banish him
and therefore could she have instead
some ornament or polished beads?

Or had she known the value of
the goatherd life in Palestine,
she may have dreamt of nights to come,
black henna painted, passionate,
her skin as warm as Lebanon,
and husband's hands and kisses where
someday would rest a child of theirs.

Before the looking glass she stands
to feign a smile upon her lips,
yet not to be too coy with grins
since breasts were much the better for,
when not his head, more silver rings.
 
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20 Ashesh

Goddess of Fertility
-------
Diana , Juno or Aphrodite ?
spectacular , muscular thighs
wistful , longing sighs
legs akimbo await.....
Lord Mars / Zeus / Pluto ?
to penetrate .....
if devotees manage Thee
to propitiate
crops are good
womenfolk are nightly
in the mood ....
is it just a superstitious folly
stupid , imbecilic .....silly ?
or serious Greek Mythology ......?
 
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21 HoneyAdored

Resistance is Fertile

Sex used to be fun
But it has turned into a chore
Done with strategic military precision
There’s no pleasure in it any more
Private Johnson’s ordered to stand to attention
The wife chills my boxers in the fridge
That’s a form of corporal punishment
Private Johnson’s gone AWOL and hid
It has to be against the Geneva Convention
It’s inhumane that I'm shrivelled, blue and sore
I'm sure my bits have frost bite
It’s so hard
It needs to thaw
Any time of the day or night
I could get an elbow in the ribs
Don’t get me wrong
I believe in free love and liberty
But I never signed up for this
I think I’ve run out of ammunition
I’m sure I’m firing blanks
I shot my load three times last night
And I didn't even get a thanks
I've been banned from drinking alcohol
I'm not allowed to smoke
This trying for a baby malarkey
Has turned my life into a joke
But then you came out of the bathroom
Showed me a solid line of red
Then I realised
That I hadn’t really minded
Doing every single thing you said
 
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22 UnderYourSpell

The Weeping Willow
throws out
encircling branches
and grows like nothing else
in my garden,
over the place where
I buried your body.
 
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23 UnderYourSpell

Words are your seeds
flirting with my mind.
Fertilized by imagination
wrapped in the embrace
of your love. Lustily sweet
hot from the press.
 
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24 Legerdemer


Fertility is overrated: the molecule of life
is cheap, at once less fragile, more resilient,
with dozen ways to fix the breaks
and the mistakes, so they don't propagate.

It's mother's love and lovers art
that breathes it life, molds and protects
and keeps it, not safe, nor intact,
but able to survive into the future.

Fertility of thought's a bit more rare:
still facile, though quality is harder to ensure
and wasteful thoughts may easily pollute
clear thinking, prevent the crystal lattice
of beautiful human endeavor.

What's rarer still is that human feeling
of friendship and connection,
without judgment that comes
from lack of understanding:
the empathy to feel for those
who lack, or differ in their thought.
 
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