30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

[Trixareforkids]

1-11

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[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-11b

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[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-12

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[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-13

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[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-14

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[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-15

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[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-16

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[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-17

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[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-17B

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[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-18

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[Desejo]

3-1 Mayya's Solution

Sodium hypochlorite

Caged in fatty flesh
crouched bones crack,
clamor to claw free,
collapse joint by joint
pile in a calcium cairn
forgotten in a corner

There, I drink
colorless salvation
it burns, eviscerates
sends demons scratching
scraping, marching high steps
through every screaming cell

Searing my rage

God has filled my cells
With light and energy
Magical, immortal
And I wasted it

Because this life is intolerable

 

[Tzara]

2-1

Industrial Revolution

He loves her like a metronome,
So regular and true—
Assembly line machinery
That counts from One to Two.

She loves dependability
And steadiness, but she's
Now looking for a retrofit
To get her up to Three.

 

[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-19

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[Tzara]

2-2

The Wingman's Lament

Some men excel at everything
They essay to attempt.
They win the game, they get the girl,
Stay calm and not verklempt.

But I'm a different kind of guy—
My hair's always unkempt,
I'm clumsy, and in choice of clothes
Oft greeted with contempt.

Some men are fair, some men are rare,
Some women often tempt,
And some are, matrimonially,
Felicity-Exempt.

 

[Desejo]

3-2 Fading Envelope

I am his envelope
Hard choices in soft folds
Half open lips catch
half said words
half responses boil
in pockets
Between us

I am his envelope
stuffed in secrets
To the eye I am empty,
Unsealed, unaddressed

A fading letter in invisible ink
That someday
Someone may manage to read

 

[Trixareforkids]

30 in 30 1-20

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[Desejo]

3-3 Trouble in the Night

In 1987, there was Luka
Stuck on the seventh floor
shyly talking to a doe eyed
woman who lived downstairs
Yes, I think I’ve seen you before

if we heard
Sounds at night,
some kind of fight it
ended in 911 calls and
Police with clipboards

2014. There is Maya
Locked in her house two continents away
Five am calls, texts, Facebook messages
relentless, insistent
Why did you leave me?
What should I do?

He beats me

All this technology
All this transparency
but I cannot Skype a solution

Just don’t ask me how I am.

 

[Tzara]

2-3

Rime of the Ancient Mariner
—for Donald Sterling

Behold the aging reprobate
Who asks each gal he sees
With oily voice and simpr'ing mien,
Wilt thou come home with me?

This sounds an awful pickup line,
And should be so, but he—
A man with cash, and bling, and flash—
Can stoppeth one of three.

It could be that black AmEx card,
Whose exclusivity
Is proof our Mariner's a man
Who can wive wealthily.

But matrimony is not what
Our Mr. M foresees.
That is beneath his sense of Class—
Too petit-bourgeoisie.

It's simply a short dalliance
On the Aegean Sea,
This sweet, concupiscent cupcake,
A jug of wine, and He.

I'll leave them now, as off they go,
Madame and her Marquis.
I fear, though, that their love will slow
And end most icily.

 

[Trixareforkids]

1-21

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[cripple92996]

hi

Your welcome to explore my brain.
With tounge hands or needle

 

[Tzara]

2-4

Ballad Stanza

A ballad tells a story—this,
Mere triviality.
An exercise in metered rhyme
Is all it's meant to be.

 

[Desejo]

3-4 What the cat dragged in

trudging against the tide of
a flip flop Starbucks nation
a lone man disturbs the flow,
Stops
throws iPhones off sync
by a stop on the cafe curb
where happy hour execs tossed away
half finished pleasure, careless
to litter laws and warnings of impeding
death
ducks down, plucks a
specimen spared the crush
of a well heeled sole,
adds it to the half full pack
red baseball cap like a beak
nodding good morning to me
the early bird, of course
gets the worm.

 

[Trixareforkids]

1-22

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[cripple92996]

ihj

Wonderful poem. I used to read orwell and lord of the flies in my kindergarten class.
93 degrees here. Climbing off a horse to look at heather

 

[Tzara]

2-5

Intimate Letters

Each letter, love's confession meant
For Kamila's bright eyes—
Janáček's aging sentiments
To part her youthful thighs.