30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

[Tzara]

2-17

Tree Poem

Today I have to write a poem.
I'd rather be a tree.
Between my xylem and my phloem,
This is all sap to me.

 

[Tzara]

2-18

Hedonics

How long it takes to cook an egg
is how we measure time
on San Juan Island in the Spring.
Vacation is sublime.

 

[Tzara]

2-19

1984

Write ballad meter every day
Big Brother doth advise,
It keeps our poets regular
With no thing we chastise.

 

[Tzara]

2-20

Atheist Poem

She wanted me to say that God
Was Who I’d missed. But me?
Well, I denied Him, thinking I'm
Simply humanity.

 

[Tzara]

2-21

Cymbalism

His every little crash was cause
For some parental frown.
Their buying him a drum kit seemed
Upsetting to the town.

But grown up, the young Buddy Rich
Won fame and jazz renown.
Few drummers were as good as him
At laying a beat down.

 

[Tzara]

2-22

Sigma Chi

His train of thought is tacked upon
The peeling bedroom wall—
The pin-up calendar he seeks
Like mental urban sprawl.

 

[Tzara]

2-23

Low Budget Poem for George Romero

I wrote this poem in fountain pen,
In very liquid ink.
Alas! It seems now zombie--dead.
These lines begin to stink.

 

[Tzara]

2-24

Question

Philosophy is not an Art;
Nor is it Science, so
What is Plato thinking when
I'm talking to my soul?

 

[Tzara]

2-25

Self-Evaluation

I think my writing will not be
Much mem'rable, this thread.
I've hopes the Lit community
Reads something else instead.

 

[Tzara]

2-26

Apology, of Sorts

A sloppy poem's born in haste
A worse one in despair.
The worst are little ones like this
Whose author doesn't care.


Actually, I do care, at least a little, but am running out the door on vacation.

 

[Tzara]

2-27

Service

One never should should drink cabernet
With fish. It isn't right.
But if your patron orders that,
Do not put up a fight.

And even if that combo makes
Your taste buds shriek "The horror!"
They makes their choice and pays their bill
And you can't ask for morer.

 

[Tzara]

2-28

Problems in Imitating Wagner

This exercise now nears its end,
To my sincere relief.
I'd need, to try this once again,
A better leitmotif.

 

[Tzara]

2-29

Pen Ultimate

The ballad is not made for smut,
Its meter's too unkind.
For the old in-and-out and such
It is not well designed.

But give it High Seas Romance! Then
Another poem you'll see:
A mariner, an anchorman,
And albatross makes three.

Eftsoons your head is spinning with
The permutations there.
How it surpasseth wildest myth,
Mere hint is all I dare.

Sam Coleridge misled you all.
By stopping one of three.
His poem, in fact, was quite the squall
'Twixt bird and tar and me.

But modesty my lips must seal.
I have no more to say.
Save, like the British clime, the deal
Was Fifty Shades of Gray.

 

[Tzara]

2-30

Fin

Some say it "fin" instead of "fan,"
Which shows they do not know
This is the last poem in my run.
My last rhyme? Esquimaux.

 

[champagne1982]

3-1 August 2014

Even Bobby's Blues Can't Fix This

Feeling good could be defined
as an absence of feeling bad,
so today brings analgesically
induced goodness to those neurons
accustomed to bein numbed with pain.
But there's some scars healing
at a central point of feeling love.
It's not bad insomuch
that this feeling isn't as good
as it was around the time
a hurt heart could be convinced
that everything was all right.
I guess that even when I felt good
living a lie was just as painful as living
the barefaced truth that is today.

 

[champagne1982]

3-2 Aug/14

Provoked

Push against stonewalled
resolve with petulant
shoves against every rock.
Stomp with heavy boots
along the stubborn ridge
to break a misplaced step.

Keep at it -
just as persistent.
Pick along the edge -
just as resistant.
Twist the fibrous strand
until it breaks
and you have provoked
retribution for every
painful wound.

 

[champagne1982]

3-3 Aug/14

Androgynous Machinery

A skeleton of alloys, steel made stainless
supports a superstructure of titanium.
Metal coated with slick plastics, teflon
too brittle for this purpose, this needs
to bend and perform in twisted poses.

Graphite sinews connect lengths
and wrap joints that lift and pull,
pushing in endless motion to power
a pump fuelled by resistance
and sunlight. The beat goes on
in a rhythm not unlike our own pumps.

Science gives us skin cells of undying
health and impermeable softness
to wrap the workings in. Nano bits
flood tubes with everything a body
needs to become a super human.

You are a vision of average appeal,
virtual perfection to the normal
amongst us. No flaws to be seen,
no gaps in knowing, an absence
of a learning curve that satisfies

many but only makes me uncomfortable.
You are my creation, more than a gollum;
you are not magic, not of God. Invention
placed a responding physiology, comparative
deduction determines when you smile

My servant, you are untiring, unsad,
unaware of how people decide if you
should exist or be swallowed
in a recycling machine.

 

[champagne1982]

3-4 Aug/14

gone gone ....

gone

 

[champagne1982]

3-5 Aug/14

gone gone ....

gone

 

[champagne1982]

3-6 Aug/14

gone gone ....

gone

 

[champagne1982]

3-7 Aug/14

gone gone ....

gone

 

[champagne1982]

3-8 Aug/14

gone gone ....

gone

 

[champagne1982]

3-9 Aug/14

Dark Matter

If I held such gravity,
my heat would not disperse
and my darkness would swallow
every light that ventures close
enough to be within my influence.
If I held such gravity,
I would not be warm enough to love
you. My heat would die could I
not share it and how could we
continue? My darkness extinguished
my light long ago and now I need
to explode into a universe
of strings of possibilities. One
of which brings me to love
you under the influence
of your gravity. Pull me in
and hold me under so that I
can disperse and become one with you.

 

[champagne1982]

3-10 Aug/14

Paris October 1991

I remember how she smelled
like ancient smoke, tired
cabbage and black exhaust
blasted out of bus motors
and rumbled by Deux Chevaux
in the traffic circle
at the head of the Champs Elysse.

Stroll toward three-storied
Ferari dealerships and twenty-dollar
cafe au laits (but they serve
it with biscuits and that's better)
to watch the curious tourists
wish they could afford to shop
here every week for Jimmy Choos.

Two stops on the Metro and you
emerge from the bottom of Paris
ready to climb to the top it still
smells like cabbages but now
odours are chased away by the wind
rushing you forward to midnight
and the damp curbs of Pigalle.

I remember waking up with noises
of the Gare l'Est squealing
through the open window and smiling
at the soreness of after-sex
muscles' reluctance to move
and the look on the cabby's face
when we told him to drive on
from our back-seat entanglement.

It was your fault, you insisted
on finding a live sex show.
Too bad the performance was limp
but what could we expect
for the last show of the night-
turned-morning with dawn a mere
two hours away and just one
more erection before bed.

 

[champagne1982]

3-11 Aug/14

Aortic Stenosis Isn't All That Squeezes My Heart Today
Robin Williams 1951-2014

I know I have a epitaph
steaming agony up from a scar
not unlike the one you wore
so proudly funny everywhere.

You'd bare it like your soul,
but little did we understand
that your soul stayed hidden
deeper than wounds on your chest

I laughed in porcine squealed snorts
when you performed your bovine moo
giggled as I thought about wallows
in barnyard goo while you chewed cud

You made me laugh away depression
while it tortured you back to addiction.
How dark was it in those footlights
once you took away your red nose?

Once you wiped off the grease paint,
dear clown, were you afraid to show
the world the face that twisted
sorrow, afraid we wouldn't care?

Now, how will I battle back the dark
that sometimes pokes holes in light
pleasure and memories? Without you
the world is sad and holds fewer joys.

But we will continue because saviours
exist and happiness is always easier
than depression no matter what the bottle
tries to tell you differently. Rest.