April 2022 - Poem a Day thread

[Piscator]

Here is the thread for dedicated, and perhaps a bit obsessive versifiers to pen a poem a day for the month of April. As circumstances my limit versification on some days, the slightly relaxed standard of 30 poems over the month of April is accepted.

For those of us who may need prompts, a quick search of NaMoPo prompts will give you a wide range of potential one a day promts. For those of a certain age and musical proclivity, Big Bang Poetry is offering a a set called "Field of Music: 30 Popular Love Songs Incorrectly Explained" starting April 1.

Rather than than start another thread, I suggest that all comments should be submitted in The General Commentary Thread.

 

[Winter_Fare]

All. Wrong.
Clever cleaver
Their there
Night mare.

Stairs starry I'd.
Moon mountains
Sea the seasons rearranged
Rogue sunset clouds rouge slivered

Numbers daze
Calendrical paradox

Paradise triggered

April fist.

 

[Piscator]

April a'int no fool, she's been to school
knows showers should bring May flowers
but in the Ukraine, where missiles reign
all the flowers are going for wreaths.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

considered I will
delve with my hands
deep into fallen silence
endlessly for any ear
emitted so you can hear
fond vocabulary
found under a poetree
growing in April

 

[Moochienanu]

April 1, 2022

Felon

you stole in
one early morning
before the world shook
before the sky fell
and you robbed
all the pieces

you searched out
by soft light
into the edges
into the recesses
and you burgled
every bit of it

it’s gone now
with your’s
they are intertwined
they are together
because you thieved
all of me

 

[29wordsforsnow]

A last moment at the door
I caught a glimpse
among what lay on the floor
fallen from your limbs

Your sleepy sigh, my trigger
picked up the tiny shard
pulsing with new vigor
broken off from your heart

Don't think I'm stealing
my hand just borrows it
leafing through 'healing'
do the puzzle, bit by bit

 

[Winter_Fare]

Walking in spring arms full
Thoughts heavy as the news
Daylight fading
Blue sky darkened by
Burgundy bruises swept along above
Twisted in shifting winds
North to east taste the ice
just before the air fills with

A little girl read a big book
Of Grimm's Fairy Tales
The little mermaid died
The wicked stepmother died
So did the ugly step sister
And rumplestilzkin
You can't buy it anymore

Good mother Holle buried in asphalt
Snowflakes carried on the air too long
Smooth beads of ice
following the wind down
From ancient pillows
Dancing on her grave

 

[Moochienanu]

April 2, 2022

One More Time

If there were a way
and everything fell in place
again,
will you tell me
in your way
that penetrates me
deep to the core
and leaves me
ready to drop everything
and run to you?

If we were there
and the stars aligned
again,
would you hold me
against your chest,
melting into you
and let me listen
as your heartbeat
ran away with mine?

If you were holding me
and time stopped
again,
will you tilt my
chin up to you,
close enough
that our lips could graze
and possibly let
the magic of it all
shape into a kiss?

If we have the chance
and we could
again,
will we?

 

[Piscator]

2nds

Two equal choices
flip a coin – pick one
but when all falls down
you wish for a second chance
at your second choice.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

I doubt it was by any chance
a lonely snowflake dancing down
come to kiss the shooting green
but with so many sisters missing
last year still a dewdrop in my hair
looking at the drought made graves
'You shouldn't buy the winter's dress.
The white, one day, will turn to mess.'
flows through my spring day veins
so red and pink and violet will be
them azaleas' second chance

 

[Moochienanu]

April 3, 2022

On the inhale

I keep them next to my side of the bed -
You know,
The one furthest from the door -
In a sealed plastic bag
To hold the secret they possess

In a small prayer
Each time
To a deity that looks out for these things -
If one exists
Xey are the definition of an angel -
I slowly unclick the ziploc

Hearing every plastic snap as
I say all the inside words
Hoping each time I briefly open it,
The scent of you won’t escape
Along with the trapped air

Into the ether
When bravery takes over,
The bag rises
And I bury my nose
In a deep breath
Back to you

I am transported
At the very end of inhale
To the clean, musk smell
Of your skin before it meets mine

In that moment
My whole body aches
For you to put them on again
In front of me
And give me the ones they replace
So I can put them
In a bag
And seal them away for later.

 

[Winter_Fare]

What's worse than the mirror
Left behind
Clean lines blurred
Light skipping around
Speckled toothpaste
Cast from between your lips
Banished for
Speaking one word
Misplacing my name
Accelerating me to
Escape velocity

 

[Piscator]

Montmartre Memories

I confess that these are false memories
as I’ve never been to the Paris’ and it’s
arrondissements, and these days, I avoid
air travel what with climate change.
Yet the name evokes places and times
which filled my imagination with wonder
at the tales of Mme. Cabot would tell our
high school French class on her good days.
All this has come back to me because
I’m in the Paris section of my online
cours de français, where I vacillate
between obsidian and pearl levels
depending on my work frequency.

And though you couldn’t accuse me
of Hypermnesia, the art, literature and
songs of Montmartre, pendant La Belle Époque
have seeped into my temporal lobe and
brightened my grey matter.

But with the war in the Ukraine,
it also reminds me that in 1940,
the Montmartre fuel depot bombing
inspired the people of Paris in their
resistance to the Nazi occupation.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

"It wasn't me,
it wasn't me."

Another red line violated
re-re-drawn by thirsty nails
the king's new scars don't ever meet
the gremlin face in the magic mirror
smashed, by his own rage, so educated
but now and then, again, history prevails
the hungry ones don't see their error
that surcharged plates are obsolete.



Repeatedly
"...it wasn't me..."

Now, so many crossed lines stain
the stretched sheep's clothing
overused on the ill-muscled skin
it no more mutes the voices' pain
whispering with grief and loathing
'humanity's growing thin.'

As you see
"... wasn't me"

such disgrace!
for any doubt
there is no place,
since it's only about

"...me."

But actually
this one is just a fraction
of all those who lost their reflection.

 

[Moochienanu]

April 4, 2022

Caught Up in You

When I’m close to you
The feeling of floating
Encompasses me -
A touch and we’re hovering,
Setting sail
Upon an endlessly deep
Ocean of emotions

There is always something
Pulling us together
Keeping us buoyant
As the world rocks

And when you look at me
Your eyes change -
I can’t help but get
Caught up in
The net you throw
Of desire
Of passion
Of need
Tugging us closer

 

[Piscator]

"It wasn't me,
it wasn't me."

Another red line violated
re-re-drawn by thirsty nails
the king's new scars don't ever meet
the gremlin face in the magic mirror
smashed, by his own rage, so educated
but now and then, again, history prevails
the hungry ones don't see their error
that surcharged plates are obsolete.

View attachment 2139382

Repeatedly
"...it wasn't me..."

Now, so many crossed lines stain
the stretched sheep's clothing
overused on the ill-muscled skin
it no more mutes the voices' pain
whispering with grief and loathing
'humanity's growing thin.'

As you see
"... wasn't me"

such disgrace!
for any doubt
there is no place,
since it's only about

"...me."

But actually
this one is just a fraction
of all those who lost their reflection.

Sigh and so many red lines not crossed

 

[Piscator]

March Widows

The tag end of winter
the days grow longer
and sometimes the sun
peeps through the smoke.
But the air is still cold
the willow yet to quicken
and the birds all flown away.

We walk on fractured roads
littered with bombed out
vehicles past the rubble
where once apartments stood.
Maybe today they will grant us safe
passage or at least bread and water.

Daniela clutches her baby
to her bosom, wailing and
sobbing at the news her
Sergei is no longer with us.
No news on my Bohdan,
perhaps that is for the best.

 

[RiverMaya]

April Dreams

What secrets lie beneath the snowdrift?
What shelters in her womb?
Perhaps the first buds of springtime,
The shyness of April blooms.

Alas, I can only wonder,
My thoughts may not be what she deems,
April's secrets are deep in slumber
While I can only dream

 

[Winter_Fare]

Poo Tin

Hitler was a man
Stalin Tito and Amin
What the fuck are you?
How did you think this would end?
Were you sniffing glue, my friend?
The whole world hates you!

 

[RiverMaya]

Today

I heard a sparrow weep today
Because it could not fly,
Its body was broken, its wings were limp
It was afraid to try.

I saw today a rainbow fade
Its colors disappeared
Beneath the heavy rain, they bled
In haste, in pain, in fear.

I felt a heartbeat cease today
Its burden was too great,
It bore the weight of innocence lost,
Killed by anger, stilled by hate.

I read today they killed a man,
They hanged him from a tree,
His crime, they say, was that he dared
To dream of liberty.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Today,

all the dark grey
cumulated matter
felt just
beautiful & generous
releasing
all the pent up tears
we've been waiting for

it rained

a decillion tiny kisses
down on nature's hand
begging for
days & weeks
some soggy
millimeters overhead
we've been craving for

it rained today.

 

[Moochienanu]

April 5, 2022

Increments of Infinity

she spreads for him,
his firm fingers filling
with urgent feeling -
unclasping a cage
as each tip touching
frees her in an instant
of that ache
which had built for
what felt like eternity

she opens to him,
floods full with fevered flush
held back for forever -
a dam disintegrating
as her back arches
hips searching out more
pressure on that spot
which catches their breath
and stops time

 

[butters]

#1

entitlement

hey, Laurel!
quit hiding in shadows
those webcams and worm holes
stories of existence
he's demanding your presence
in his court (on your site)
that you defend your stance
at his insistence

that you stand in the dock
(on your time, your dime)
for his interrogation
'cos he's a "writer"
(this username windar)
and you owe him explanations–
a member since november '21.

hurry up. he's waiting!
(can you keep a straight face?)

 

[Piscator]

Looking Through Glass Darkly

As the surreal becomes real
What must one to survive?
Bald-faced lies deny Atrocities
SkyEyes reveal of innocents
tortured and dead.

Inanity, insanity
Crimes against Humanity
Want to be Putin and Trump
won't be tried or convicted for
their "indiscretions"at the
2013 Miss Universe Contest
January 6 insurrection or
this Ukraine Invasion?

Kansas beat UNC for men's basketball title
while Connecticut won women's I think
Will Smith slapped Chris Rock at the Oscars
Tiger woods is at the Masters and not to be
confused with the Tiger King (so last year).

 

[RiverMaya]

Infant

Tiny feet,
tinier toes,
innocence captured,
dew on a rose.
Sweetness beyond measure,
joy without pain,
love with no boundaries,
pure and unstained.
Nurtured and cradled,
protected from harm,
the most precious wonder,
safe in your arms.