30 Poems in 30 Days

[annaswirls]

2-love-12 I do not remember calling for you

but you heard me anyway, come
come meet me in the vacant lot down
down down where paper flowers
hang, sun-faded in latched windows
their insides facing, blue

 

[Angeline]

2-2 Sisters

Sisters there are seven stars,
Sun-faced, ravaged by the light,
seized in darkness, sisters
stolen and reborn in mythic
sight. Merope eats bees. Are sisters
swallowed by the epochs? Sysyphus
surrenders queens: seas to moontime dust.

Form: Pleiades

 

[champagne1982]

3-1-29

The Weight You Carry

I told you how I loved you
a thousand years ago,
an aeon beyond yesterday
and now in this moment,
I tell you once more

you carry the joy of beginnings
and the lust for tomorrow
in the way you hold your head;
proud to stand strong, straight
beneath the burden of my devotion

I love you outside these Earthly
concerns that drag us from our
insular existence to remind --
that although eternity is ours
to share, today is the world's.

 

[annaswirls]

2-love-13 in love

shall I keep you on my right?
his participles are tucked in tight
has me floating like the ice
in a white russian texas winter

 

[tungtied2u]

2-8

Serviced

I am in love with two boys
not half my age
who saw my rage, knew my needs
anwered my pleas of desperation,
experienced souls with nimble hands
and willing hearts, listened
then started to work their magic
took time and care as I stood there
and fixed my computer

 

[Angeline]

2-3 Acrostic

Moonlight snow seems fictive. Such lacy deception
You forget when kitchen light pools safe
Territory for gingerbread, hot chocolate
Ever opposite from winter beyond the door
Rushing wind past the deck, the twelve icy steps.
Remind me, my love, it's not food or thermostats.
Your arms, my nose tickled on grey chest hair--
I can drop fear like mittens, rub on your skin,
Let everything fall to forgetfulness. Our quiet
Offerings of peace, a cup of swallows shared
Vespers our prayers in whispers, even breath
Eventually matched in sleep, restive pillow talk,
You turn, I scratch your back on the secret spot
Only I can reach to hear you sigh and murmur
Understanding that needs no word. Our world
Solid and shifting in and out the door, loss and
Our return magic in three rooms beyond the snow.

 

[champagne1982]

3-1-30

Go

Don't dream of what
is spread at your feet,
a life of choices, good
and bad, all that you
decide is there before
your sight, waiting
for a footprint
and it could be yours.

 

[tungtied2u]

2-9

is there no peace
just a piece is all I ask
the serene silence of perfectly still
not a sound invading ears
nor a movement catching eye
or a thought stirring emotion

nothingness
in all its beauty
is that too much to ask

 

[annaswirls]

2-love-14 things I know about you

things I know about you
fifteen minutes until midnight
your loveline long with many short branches
but the main trunk grows strong, sturdy
your life line twisted in tight curls
around a straight path
as you spin and dance around the
trail to entertain yourself.

You tell me,
you are so perceptive
but like all the gypsies
I only know
what you want me to know,
say what you want to hear,
know which veil to drop at your feet
which to keep hidden.

 

[Angeline]

2-4

Coal-faced clouds skate. Rain
thins to crystalline, glitters
shards of winter night.

 

[tungtied2u]

2-10

cold on the outside
hot on the inside
the shell is doomed to break

hot on the outside
cold on the inside
the two shall seperate

 

[annaswirls]

2-love-15 All of her paintings have black birds and empty plates

she swallowed wallace stevens
but could only cough up seven blackbirds
pie or no pie
we count the gold
we tease with honey
pull feathers for the tar baby decoy
she said she said she said
this will only hurt
if you can feel it


cabin 2

get-away
for those like us
who need to get a
way to forget
the last graham cracker crumbs
pressed together with a fork


dearest three, I am sorry
but two cannot come to the phone
please try again later


she paints four boat tail grackles
that strut and eye us
he is she is they are
always the next in line
for the crown
someone has to pay

five years old
he tells me
how the legend of crow got her rainbow feathers
is actually the legend
of how she lost them


VI.

because you are a perfect number
I will give you this verse
properly labeled
you who divides by two
or three with equal beauty
what is better
than a table
set for six


seven, seven
seventy-seven
extra syllables
always stumbled our elementary rhythms
like January and February
like the step you forgot
at the bottom of the landing
blackbirds never slip

 

[tungtied2u]

2-11

my daughter glows, a soft sheen
achieved over years, thru careful attention
to details, seeking out the rough spots
applying elbow grease
constant determination
and realization
of the priceless gem
I began with

In her facets I see reflected years
colored with sadness, joy, rage
and redemption, the recognition
of the sweat and tears with which
we wet our polishing cloth

now her shine has become intrinsic
our assistance is no longer necessary
still every now and then I can't resist
just a little rub

 

[Angeline]

3-4 Saint Anthony

Oh Blessed Tongue
that always praised the Lord,
but never spoke to me, Saint Anthony
I knew your blind gray eyes, watched
you as you watched heaven, waited
on concrete steps for a miracle
that never came outside the doors
of your cathedral. I even climbed
into the brick barbeque pit
that Judy Giambrelli's father built
in their backyard. 1428 Hamilton
Avenue, remember me? I was Mary,
the Virgin Mother, that day I rocked
Janice, my babydoll, in a dumbshow
creche until Judy's father chased me
away. Who else was there to hear
my prayers, Father of Padua?
I said O Israel hear my cry,
but it didn't. Daddy ripped away
the paint-by-number picture
the nun gave me. No one
at B'nai Brith knew my name.
I read you are the patron saint
of lost things, but how could you
who let sparrows nest
in your sheltering stone hands
never notice the girl in a blue tee shirt
and scabbed knees who waited
for you every Saturday morning
while her friends confessed
their small sins.

 

[annaswirls]

2-love-16 baking cookies in a new town

I triple
the recipes
we are blessed


(and I am tired)

 

[annaswirls]

2-love-17 fuck

I understand why you tear paper

this ache has a place
a purpose
it is to hold me back
from saying what I mean
for fear
you will see
and know
and laugh

take me take me take me back to the place
words were snowflakes
falling to frozen ground

now everything melts into slush
evaporates
mudsling and muscle strain
push my face in it
this is all I have

 

[Angeline]

3-5 I have nothing to to say

I have nothing to say tonight.
Go away. I mean it. My brain
is like cheese, my head's full
of curds and whey which is why
I haven't a whit of a bit
of a poem. You can sit here
all night, stare at this space.
Might as well be for rent.
I'm outta this place
cause I'm spent and I'm drained.
My schedule's to blame.
I have nothing to say,
there isn't a ghost of a fight:
my metaphors have jumped
over the moon. Don't have
a cow or a dish or a spoon. I
have nothing to say.

Goodnight.

 

[tungtied2u]

2-12

I have nothing to say tonight.
Go away. I mean it. My brain
is like cheese, my head's full
of curds and whey which is why
I haven't a whit of a bit
of a poem. You can sit here
all night, stare at this space.
Might as well be for rent.
I'm outta this place
cause I'm spent and I'm drained.
My schedule's to blame.
I have nothing to say,
there isn't a ghost of a fight:
my metaphors have jumped
over the moon. Don't have
a cow or a dish or a spoon. I
have nothing to say.

Goodnight.

Hey diddle diddle
I'm fiddling as well
while poems is turning
see the ruins of time wrought
over antiquated thoughts
naught to show
but a blow by blow of lack
get off my back, I'm beat too
maybe one of you
would like to do better
letter by letter, word by word
line by line in time for today
another entry, bungled
burgled from thoughts
from my dear friend Angeline
I hope she hasn't seen
how I robbed and ran

 

[Angeline]

2-6

This is the way rain shines
on the nightroad, fat
green slicks, red streaks
and me driving past
because I never stop
driving through weather, tears,
even years lost, change fallen
through a hole in my pocket
that I turned inside out
looking for babies that grew up,
black hair untouched by silver,
knees that don't creak.

I'm turning into my mother
on the way to my grandmother
on the way to silence
or poetry, I can't decide
because I can't stop driving
long enough to ponder
that I'm not sniffing roses
on the bench in the backyard
on Hobart Avenue anymore
and everyone is gone but you.

I have to turn the wheel
quick before the road swerves
to another day. I'm trying
not to think about my knees
or my heart or whatever it is
that aches on the rainy road.

 

[tungtied2u]

2-13

Thirteen one again
proves to be my undoing
bad enough in years
awful when paired with Friday
but poetry and tiredness
just too much to handle

 

[annaswirls]

2-love-18 working the room like royalty

something about crowns
and the ease with which you place
your jewels
into open fingered fittings

we touch hems
catch moondogs
we sway on heel spikes
wait our turn



~~~

something about crowns
and jewels
and the ease with which you place them
into our metal fingers
we touch hems
catch moondogs
we sway on heel spikes
wait our turn

 

[Angeline]

2-7

One frozen red berry
is the smallest drop of blood
on the pale cheek of morning.​

 

[annaswirls]

2-love-19 you dominate my thoughts

up in your brain
there is a small chair
while I wait for you
I braid wool into rugs




blah blah blah blah
something might come of this
something might not
cest la vie

 

[tungtied2u]

2-14

only a thin shell
worn hollow and fragile
by incessant storms
unrelenting in their erosion
within and without thin
to a point of transparency
it awaits the final blow
a whisper could shatter it

 

[Angeline]

2-8

Rose Red, rose, red
upon that snow white linen lie
ye down upon this bed
to wait for night's shadow. Fly
into dream lit sunshine
find there yon handsome one
play out this tragic pantomime
let mourning tears dry in the sun
and blush those palid cheeks
on which those feathered lashes rest
'til winter's sunshine seeks
the kiss of lips so sweet. I must confess
Rose Red, rose, red smiles awake,
will win his love and his heart will take.

Rose Red, Rose Red's a peaceful face that lies
on pillows white upon a palace bed
in deep repose. Her frozen world denies
the years that pass. She should arise, instead
she's perfectly suspended in her dreams
sculpted in ice. An ancient curse will hold
her in vaporous arms, and though she seems
contented there, a name that will unfold
a tale enchanting ages she is lost
to all who loved her once for there is naught
won't cross the lines of fiction and the cost
of fairy tales is more than poison draught.
Behold! The prince arrives to wake her, stirs
the beauty to a world no longer hers.