007 Challenge

[pushkine]

Dead

Because I'm not the kind of guy
Who's given to outrageous lies,
I'd like to think you'd find me dear.
But sex I like to engineer,
And plans, sometimes, go all awry—

Delights I thought we'd love to try
Require me to be too spry
For aging muscles, limbs. My sphere,
It seems it's not.

So let me simply stroke your thigh,
Gaze moonily into your eyes.
I am not one for Love's Frontier,
Apparently, but I'm sincere:
I'll love you 'til the day I die,
And I am not.


.

[The_Fool]

so it’s a gunshot kaleidoscope
sequenced thought and deed
not to worry
it’s all about the porn
cock drips slide down satin sheets
gray thoughts gather
purged by weary whiskey shots
winds break against the window
sounds of nature’s flatulence in the night
discard dreams at the door
slip-on slippers
worn but comfortable

[The_Fool]

She has an endearing smile,
just for her girlfriend's boyfriend.
Not that I care.
Not my type anyway.
Sipping blow jobs
and other sweet drinks
brimming with cream.

[The_Fool]

He wondered,
sometimes,
if she kept nettles in her panties.
Such a prickly nature.
Such a puckered frown.
And if she did,
if it really made her wet.

[The_Fool]

He hated dining alone,
since he tended
to gulp down food.
So he invited his book.
Good company,
allowed him to savor the meal.

[PandoraGlitters]

Pushkine it has been wonderful writing with you. I look forward to reading more of your poems. And Fool! You were really on a roll yesterday!

[PandoraGlitters]

Recipe for Nomasha

Wait until the stems have thinned
and the fruit is heavy. Catch
it in the first wind of autumn,
in your hand before it hits
the ground. Squeeze everything
but save the seeds for later.
Press the water from the flesh.
Notice the intensity deepen
as you wring the pulp. Stir
in the first words you ever meant.
Repeat. Serve cool
in warm hands.

[PandoraGlitters]

Other Uses for Duct Tape

Over the ears so he can la-la-la
can't hear you can't hear you can't
this time it won't work when you say
stop. When you say
it hurts.

Can't hear you can't hear you
say hello or nice day isn't it or anything
that might stem the hatred flowing
in his rich, warm blood. Can't hear
you bitch. bitch. bitch. Because
I don't like the look of you when
you lift the glass and especially
when you smile.

Because a smile could mean
she came in peace, after all,
and that would ruin everything.

Why spend time on the firing range
for that? What were all those grenades
in his closet for if not to toss
casually into her lap
as she raised her glass
drinking to his health.

[pushkine]

Six

The Underworld is quite chthonic
—Those rivers, that three-headed dog—
And even though it's not demonic
(A Christian myth), it's still a bog.
Poor Orpheus trods down there, slogging
On though the muck, his conscience flogging
At him to seize Eurydice
From Hades and Persephone.

But you know this. You're educated,
Or would be, if our schools were good,
And brains were simple blocks of wood
To shape, or tubes to be inflated.

Hell, I'm no Ovid, anyway,
Just seven poems in seven days.


.

[Angeline]

I love you my sweet unspoken
words unthought untried still
struck by the possible hopeful
in general or genre before

I tap keys before I know truths
unspoiled un-nothing denied fill
me part way and call it half
full for this is the how of the

what I believe until I can
say voiceless evers applied will
anyone listen, will you under
stand the quiet empty core?

[PandoraGlitters]

Pushkine, your ear is impeccable on that Hades poem. You must be a hell of a dancer and Angeline!!! So delicious! I am rereading.

[Angeline]

Originally Posted by PandoraGlitters

Pushkine, your ear is impeccable on that Hades poem. You must be a hell of a dancer and Angeline!!! So delicious! I am rereading.

Let me know if you can figure out what it means. I'm not sure I can.

[PandoraGlitters]

Seems to be a love poem to the process of writing and hoping to be understood. But yeah I had to reread it to get that.

[pushkine]

Rondelet

......Within her arms
Find I an anchor to this world.
......Within her arms
Is pleasure found, and all its charms,
And here security's unfurled
Like an embracing fog. When curled
......Within her arms.




Somewhat squishy, I know, but my first try at a rondelet. Anyway, that's seven. Kinda fun. Thanks, PG.

[The_Fool]

At first,
I’m not sure how to answer
when asked.
Sometimes it seems
the world is skewed
in my focus,
slightly off center.
Other times
it seems that time has slipped
off the tracks,
or goes faster than I expect it to.
But never slower,
time never goes slow.
Often it seems there is a fog
in which
I can’t hear, can’t see, can’t think
as clearly as I should.
But after that imperceptible pause,
I always answer with a smile.
“I’m fine.”

[PandoraGlitters]

Beautiful finish to your week, Pushkine.

[PandoraGlitters]

(Better late than never, poem 7)

Electronic Muse

I want to be reborn in the valley
between your thumbs, beneath the canopy
of your gaze, in that golden mean
measuring the natural, sorrowful
slack between what we wish for
and what we live. I give my limbs
to your careful hands, to be added and divided,
coded and woven into the spiral
rising from our restless sleep
into the dancing night.

[pushkine]

World Was in the Face of the Beloved

Rain fell steadily outside the open window, moistening the air. She lay on her left side, reading a book held in her right hand. The arm covered her breasts, a bit. A crumpled, very white sheet sheathed her hips and legs.

"What are you reading?" I asked.

"Rilke," she said, slightly trilling the R. She smiled the same beatific smile that had made me beg her into bed.

My eyes were drawn to that circle of dark ink lanced into her skin, centered on her belly like a brand.

"Welt war in dem Antlitz der Geliebten," I murmured. "And elsewhere."


.

[PandoraGlitters]

Where are you, Foolio? Where's that villanelle? I like rereading this, but three times is enough. Give me more.

Originally Posted by The_Fool

At first,
I’m not sure how to answer
when asked.
Sometimes it seems
the world is skewed
in my focus,
slightly off center.
Other times
it seems that time has slipped
off the tracks,
or goes faster than I expect it to.
But never slower,
time never goes slow.
Often it seems there is a fog
in which
I can’t hear, can’t see, can’t think
as clearly as I should.
But after that imperceptible pause,
I always answer with a smile.
“I’m fine.”

[PandoraGlitters]

Originally Posted by pushkine

World Was in the Face of the Beloved

Rain fell steadily outside the open window, moistening the air. She lay on her left side, reading a book held in her right hand. The arm covered her breasts, a bit. A crumpled, very white sheet sheathed her hips and legs.

"What are you reading?" I asked.

"Rilke," she said, slightly trilling the R. She smiled the same beatific smile that had made me beg her into bed.

My eyes were drawn to that circle of dark ink lanced into her skin, centered on her belly like a brand.

"Welt war in dem Antlitz der Geliebten," I murmured. "And elsewhere."


.

*sigh* Thanks for the extra, Pushkine.

[PandoraGlitters]

High School Reunion

One man with light bones fiddles with a pen.
Pumpkincheese tarts solicit fingers on a repurposed
holiday tray but not the fingers of the Japanese ceramicist
that held my breast. The much loved girl from two doors down
took the tray when she left.

Under our feet sand cooled and shifted.
Pumpkincheese tarts spiced lips
and everyone talked too much even
the ceramicist who mainly signs.
Eyes glazed in lantern light;
I slept on her best friend's couch.

One saturday morning it is twenty years after
we tubed down Ozark rivers
in bikinis and I led the girl down bank
to the smoking van.

[PandoraGlitters]

Originally Posted by Angeline

I love you my sweet unspoken
words unthought untried still
struck by the possible hopeful
in general or genre before

I tap keys before I know truths
unspoiled un-nothing denied fill
me part way and call it half
full for this is the how of the

what I believe until I can
say voiceless evers applied will
anyone listen, will you under
stand the quiet empty core?

Oooh! Or it could be clever mockery of someone with little wit. It's a twofer.

ETA: I sometimes worry that my poems are too empty.

[PandoraGlitters]

Newbie Inventory

socks that never need washed
steel, dirt, rock but it's still two-dimensional
nothing more than a texture
that and vague, thick skin,
the means to wear it thinner
and a swift steed

[sassynyc]

#1 Ba-donk-a-donk

Ba-donk-a-donk
are the syllables that compose
“LOVE” floating, in a cartoon
balloon, above his head
whenever he lays
eyes on his Vidalia
Layered, earthy, rich and sweet
Al dente, she
always bites back
He never minds the tears


#2 Dirty Muppet Poetry

One gets a reputation
you know, for being facile
when the taking of liberties
is liberally taken so far

What next,
my splintered dignity, when
the sloth in his nimble fingers, finds
its way under my dress, yet again?

Applause meets and greets
cries of “encore”, “take a bow”
‘Tis what I live for, and I’d oblige
if only his hand weren’t up my ass.

[PandoraGlitters]

Excellent start, Sassy! I totally did a u-turn on dirty muppet poetry. Wow! What an end!