30 Poems in 30 Days

[AChild]

2-6

breath in tip toes
star light skiing on
what is not yet ice

in my hand I hold
a tracker of the universe
sliding all around me

tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock,

can't breath that fast,
nor does it pay to do so
humming birds smirk at
my slow progression

tick is the sound of ending
tock is the worship of the moment

pick up the pieces for effect

 

[wildsweetone]

29

Fashion Statement

If there is a point to manicuring our nails
I don't know it.
They take over after death
has moved through our bodies
keep growing like some finally freed beast
who wishes to stampede
to the highest point
by a circuitous route.

We should let them go

during life,
adjust technology
until it fits with us,
with the nails,
with the hair,
and the toothless grins.

 

[AChild]

2-6b

jack jaw limerick
somethings tugging
that means it got thrown
the fuck out cause it
was throwing meaning

(where do all the spoken
word props come from?)

Noon day at the heart door
waiting for the sun to
spot the key hole

maybe I could see a why or two
walk like I have a reason for
raising feet

bushes shake, silver tongue
parasite waiting to take hold
in my mouth

if infected when the door opens
I would talk shit to my own
heart

not see the darker-
hue, lip shaped punctures
in off color flesh,
ventricles hanging by threads

Not learn for a loose tongue

 

[vampiredust]

28

Snap


They say there was no audible
snap when my neck broke
during the execution. Officials
complained. Paying audience

wanted a refund. Death said
no. All sales are final.
My body spun like the eyes
of a female bluebottle

scouring the room for a place
to lay her ballast of eggs.
Lips opened subconsciously,
offering a room for the night.

What I remember next is snap,
bones sliding out of their places.
And the sound of the oceans,
taking me to where everything fits.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-2-11

Cowley To Calgary

When you have a chance,
listen to the nearly
silent noise of a sail
scribing slow circles.

The whooshing glide disturbs
birds, no more than an office
tower, with windows that look
onto - look like sky. Even so

they moan; the same world
savers that refuse to walk
their kids to school or take
shorter, cooler showers.

The background hum of current
flows above their heads,
with the flock clutching wire
and glad for a place to rest.

 

[darkerdreamer]

3-30

One would have to assume
this mirror is faulty,
it doesn't reflect the man I once recognized.

This mirror has not warped
even in decades of heat,
nor has it broken after a dozen accidents,

and yet,
something must be incorrect,
because I am not the man looking back at me.

 

[wildsweetone]

30


A city passes his window

There is a cardboard house under the motorway bridge.
Brown cardboard with the 'This Way Up' sign,
upside down
and clear tape cross hairs
covering the space where the edges of the roof
don't quite meet.

The bridge takes the rain.
The box house takes the wind.
Inside, the old man snores
oblivious to the city passing his window.

 

[4degrees]

10-27

resurrection

verbalize
the feel-
you made it real
what, with your
wide-open mouth
your sweating
tongue
your convincing
fist
truest love, no doubt;
hours pass
and still i feel
you slowly escaping
my body

 

[vampiredust]

9-29

Listen

Evening squashes
against my window
pane. Just listen, the
poem I'm writing says,

fox colours of a dipping
sun lighting up
an orchestral pit hidden
behind office buildings,

church spires. Outbound
clouds organise
each quaver, rain cattle
fine tuning the song,

unsocial hours bringing
everything to me. Eyes
take notes, hands record
this new type of language,

the sound of a heart
working an abacus
throughout the night
sending me to sleep.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-2-12

Finished Blossoms

I bought some forced bulbs a month
ago, before the snow had left
and left room for the hyacinths
to bravely climb up into the frost.
Those garden beauties rest still,
but these poor plants in a pot,
they're done, wilted memories
of pink, praying for a frost
to put them to sleep, once more.

 

[darkerdreamer]

4-1

I need famous dying words.
What is my "Rosebud"?

Where is my cryptic message,
a scribble worthy of clutching
in my skeleton grip?

 

[4degrees]

10-28

today, i'm not
the cancer or the cure
never innocent, but
by-standing, watching
life get lived and lost
and unsure of the ones
who beg me for things
they really don't want
twenty eight of
a thirty day cycle
a circle of revival
and the scent of dying
right next to me,
in this bed.
nosophilic tendancies
are not mine, friend.
lymphatic maliganacies
are said to cut your
story short. you act bored
with it all, anyway.
i'm guessing that the fear
of real death has overshadowed
everything else, and that now
all you say and do
and most of your thoughts too
are a front
trying to trick fear
playing dead as you might
with a big bear
and maybe like in the books,
it will sniff you
and walk away.

 

[wildsweetone]

61

Dew

A suitor came into the garden last night.
His tears are on the rose petals.
Love unrequited, he left
to find another garden,
other roses.

 

[AChild]

2-1

Sugar mon,
came from cane

feed the stalk to machine
teeth
juice the grass
smile sweet complex

ginger, lime
hot pepper flakes

heart thumping in the
down low

got a speed to play
bull with some cows
at the farmer's market

 

[vampiredust]

30

The Preacher's Mistress

I kept my replacement
lips on his bedside table,

he kept his sins in a bible.
Once a week, I took them

out for washing. The sky
would always stink

the following day, crowds
of vultures watching me

bring them back in.
Speak no evil

 

[loserstyx]

5-1

Locked Away
Push, force
open the cage
let me be free

To view the world through your eyes
to extend my soul into yours
to move your limbs as my own

Crash, concussion
open your mind
let me be free

(dear god let this be the time that I actually follow through)

 

[darkerdreamer]

4-2

slap the plunger down,
way down
to that ultimate low;

you are that extra milliliter
that kills.

you are the acidic overdose spittle
on his chin.

you are that final bowel release,
but you fuck up more
than just the couch.

 

[4degrees]

10-29

don't say
don't taunt me with
your impending death
hate of him
or smallish corners
or fading passion
my skin is thin
see through like
the crack of a door
not yet completely shut
nor will it ever
why bother
why bother
my own brother,
my mother lays ailing
my father knows his son
some doctor who is
much too busy for this
sends these lab results
ones i have to google
to define a little
but every day
that i survive and
keep from killing anyone
everything tangible means
less
and less
a living test
trying again to pass
avoid a messy reincarnation
future-tense
future proof
i miss the things i love
i miss poetry and porn
and a good hard fuck
my luck is better
than most though
so i shall
shut up.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-2-13

Weekday Clarity

Monday's about to come
and go without pause
or ponder over why
we need to name
the days
and think
of clever ways
to pass through
the shallow atmosphere.

It's never near enough
to evening stars to touch
with hands outstretched
and feel the sparkle
sprinkle tingles
down your spine.

Spin this planet as fast
as time to celebrate
the coming Monday
dawn wind
washes
the sky clear
and Monday seems
brighter now you're here.

It's always clear enough
to know the light shines
from your eyes to shoot
sparkling tingles down
along my spine.

 

[Lady Reiha]

1-4

Binary- By Reiha-Chan 2.0

00001101 00001010 00001101 00001010 01010010 01100101 01101001 00100000 01010010 01100101 01101001 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101001 01110010 01100101 01100100 00101110 00100000 01000110 01100101 01100101 01100100 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01100100 01100001 01101101 01101101 01101001 01110100 00101110 00001101 00001010 01000111 01101001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01100001 00100000 01110011 01110100 01100001 01110011 01101000 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01101101 01100001 01111001 01100010 01100101 00100000 01110011 01101111 01101101 01100101 00100000 01110010 01100001 01100010 01100010 01101001 01110100 00001101 00001010 01000011 01101111 01101111 01101011 01101001 01100101 01110011 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100101 01110110 01101001 01101100 00101100 00100000 01100010 01110101 01110100 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110111 01100010 01101111 01111001 01110011 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100110 01110101 01101110 00001101 00001010 01101100 01100001 01100100 01101001 01100100 01100001 01100100 01101001 01100100 01101111 01101111 00101100 00100000 01101100 01100101 01110100 01110011 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100011 01101000 01100101 01110111 00100000 01110011 01101111 01101101 01100101 00100000 01100111 01110101 01101101 00101110





decoded:

"
Rei Rei is tired. Feed me dammit.
Give me a stash and maybe some rabbit
Cookies are evil, but cowboys are fun
ladidadidoo, lets all chew some gum."


there you go- Binary was actually a poem written in Binary.

 

[wildsweetone]

62


impossibilities

The sun rises again
and yet, today
there is little beauty to see.

The hedge is wearing its gold gown,
leaves are batting eyelids,
as the trees flirt
in the stillness of the misty dawn.

Birds leave their nests
in droves
flying low and long,
to cross the wasted land,
to settle.
From the poplar hedge
to the burning liquid amber,
they fly to their own little deaths.

The weeping willow
has gathered the morning mist
and tears fall from its twigs
into the stream
sending ripples
to lap the bank.

And still the sun fights
to clear the land of its white blanket,
fights to expose
the naked lust
that craves to colour the world,
the lush green grass,
black flax flowers,
the surrender of snail to thrush.

Brush the land with your siren fingers, sun,
sweeten this Autumn day
before it is too late.

 

[AChild]

2-2

closed eye,
philosophy-
spiny sea creature

change

break a needle
limp with new freedoms
exposed to different flows

 

[darkerdreamer]

4-3

Chastity's Belt

a Rubik’s cube worth solving;
my fingers ache
against your clasps
and pass-coded entryways.

 

[champagne1982]

2007-2-14

Trailer Pork Rinds

Oh my! Bark that bites
the pulchritudinous ass
that delights the visage
more so than the base
bulges that show clothes
with ripped off designer
labels really don't fit
the cheap-assed arses
and delusional fat girls'
behind, in front or atop
all that we see is bacon
that should be wrapped
and stored in the meat
keeper drawer of the fridge
and never ever displayed
in the presence of dawgs.

 

[4degrees]

10-30

at the end, again
and letting go for now
leaving this poem to
hold my spot
here and there too
until i can come back
from an underwater
underworld
air tight baggie of
hyper-hibernation.