30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

[Angeline]

1-15

When lines merge
and converge,
when tracks and roads
are mapped explored
and traversed by pioneers

who putt putt bounce
whoosh whistle wheeze
somewhere in that piston
driven churn and clack
across the Plains

when all that action
passes through the moon
and clouds of empty
scarecrow nights smoky
stops in dingy rooms,
always heading
for the lights--

Kansas City, St Joe
Abilene and Tulsa, too,

immersion cooks
up one fine American stew
served at cutting contests,
breakfast jam at 5 a.m.

before it's time to move
again.

 

[legerdemer]

2-1 Heisenberg's Principle

perfection:
an illusion, a trick
of overstimulated neurons,
a passing spasm

relative,
perfect only
next to
reality

paradoxical:
pitch-perfect
exists only
as drawn

straight nose
soft lips
sculpted jaw
sinuous hands
strong thighs

the eyes
to die for

Heisenberg's principle:
Schrödinger's cat
observed,
you dissipate,
a fluke of light

you are perfect
in my imagination,
in my dreams,
and that's enough

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-15

"I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want—an adorable pancreas?"
The Snake Has All the Lines (1958) Jean Kerr

My Adorable Pancreas

I am sweet, ask my sweetmeats;
awash in sugar and insulin
that makes my motor run
and my muscles respond
to neural stimuli, that prods
the fibre lines to action.
Flexing and stretching
into a lovely smile.
Yes, my beauty is more
than merely the outer layer
of my handsome epidermis.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-16

Removed

 

[greenmountaineer]

1-2

Danger

Définition:

Nom masculin singulier
risque, péril


Grimes le chauffeur drives Bradley down
to the club at five fifteen pm
where he orders Wellington Beef
he likes to say to snigger Papá
as the old man putt-putts in his den

but only on a gluten free bun
he likes to say to snigger Mamán
while Gustave does her hair again
he thinks as he stares at the putting green
where someone hits a ball now and then

until le chauffeur who drives like a dweeb
drives him home at seven fifteen
where he'll call for two biscotti
with mocha latte to help him sleep
after his bedtime story

he reads in the original French,
soon to be bothered by Henriette
to whom he says du té instead.
Tomorrow perhaps he'll say je regret
he sniggers at eight fifteen.

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-16

This Silent Song

"To fashion silence into words"
The Poet and the Poem in Songs of the Silent World, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward, Houghton & Grifffin, Boston, USA 1884​

My heart sings songs of quiet memory
the lyrics of poems scribed in ashes
of a voice, now muted in winter cold
yet brought to life in coloured ideas,
and vitality only found in daydreams.
Hymns to give me vision and hopes that I,
in a poet's poor fancy, may be allowed
the talent to fashion silence into words.​

 

[Angeline]

1-16

Daddio

had a zoot suit
brown with yellow
pin stripes hung
in the closet, an old
unattended friend I
never saw him wear.

That suit was wide
shouldered sharp creased,
cut to break just so
when rompin to that 30s
kinda bouncy blues.

Daddio could caper--
snap and point
his index fingers,
rubberneck a lindy
hoppin bop whilst I
was standing on
his toes.

It was magic swing
time like they did down
town at Roseland or up
at the Savoy.

And maybe this
is why jazz is
my joy.

 

[legerdemer]

2-2 What if?

I still lose myself
gazing over the ocean
remembering you

sudden memory
a bitter herb to swallow
no reprieve yet, dear

 

[Neonurotic]

2:16 Average Friday Night Freak

Sex toys are illegal in Alabama,
but he was found hogtied, wearing two—
TWO wet suits,
complete with diving gloves
booties, underwear and a head mask.
Hmmm
they say don't speculate
what was in his briefs.
I'm guessing a dildo
smuggled across the border.
After all, Louisiana has some
rubber aficionados.

I backpage out of there
looking for more weirdness
weirder than me, makes me look
normal. And I am lately,
too busy for girlfriends,
love and that headache.
Too lazy for ladies night,
seducing cougars hunting cubs.

Bored of internet Friday night porn,
but not too bored to read
peculiarities that are not such
rarities. Like that Rev with the
skin diving fetish, or others
caught in similar predicaments:
Carradine, Hutchence and Bodē,
though none were discovered
in two—Two wet suits!
Ya, I'm average with a few little
kinks and that's all right.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-17

Removed

 

[greenmountaineer]

1-3

Ode to Russ Meyer

You rattled your camera at diamondback
D cup girls in the Mojave
Faster Pussycat Kill Kill nearly
tearing their D cup halters off
about whom my Donna Reed mother
from Cedar Rapids Iowa
would say they should have been wearing
double breasted coats in the desert

instead of showing teenage boys
they'll get more from life with spunk
and a spare buck from their allowance,
having rented Sammy's license
to sneak into one of your movies,
sporting shorts with holes in their pockets
through which one feels the heat of the age
when one feels the fly on one's skivvies.


For those at the time in diapers or a gleam in their father's eye:

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faster,_Pussycat!_Kill!_Kill

 

[Angeline]

1-17

Mysterious Disappearing Fib

Oh
jazz
poem where
have you gone?
We were on Lenox
Avenue waitin on the hop
when you disappeared
with my muse.
Now I
must
stop.

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-17

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b395/champagne1982/8cab7fef-73c3-44af-92df-67f1972f9fe3_zps3b0ba2e3.jpg?t=1421438402

Draco

I see you winding your wintered coils
around the north each night you rise
and suffer no beast or god to subdue
your twisted form that ploughs a path
through drifted snow and merciless
mountains of ice floes and glacial
rime until you fall below the edge
to make room for brilliants of the day.​

 

[Neonurotic]

2:17 Upskirt

Most shoplifting is something small,
a slip of hand into a pocket,
tucked inside a coat and
high tail it out of there.

Not this lady. She likes it big,
flip of her skirt, a flat screen T.V.
disappears, held between her knees.
Some how she walks away like
there's nothing,
no wrong doing done.

All I think of is how strong
her thighs are,
every dirty thing she could do
to pay for petty theft,
none costing her a dime.

 

[legerdemer]

2-3

Southbound


Blinking red-scaled snakes rush away,
while white-scaled ones rush toward
in parallel; the asphalt twists and groans
Under their weight.

Follow the red, blear-eyed, the last caffeine
a waning memory still stored
until my eyes command the brain to stop.

When finally I pull off
I hope and pray to asphalt gods
that reds still rush away
not white threatening to run me over.

A knock on glass,
"Ma'am, you all right? It's dangerous stopping here."
"I'll move, sir, if you wish, but thought it worse by far
to follow on..."

I join the red snakes traveling south,
wondering where's a girl to park and sleep
in peace, till red and white no longer blink?

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-18

Removed

 

[greenmountaineer]

1-4

It Comes with a Drip Dickey Too.

Round the cauldron I cast my spell
with mercury, toad, and lead.

Carbaryl products no longer sell.
This plant is just about dead.

Bubble, bubble, boil new trouble,
sodium bicarbonate,

red dye 5, a rodent's knuckle,
a quart of ethyl acetate.

Mince the tip of a dead man's cock.
Say it's sediment in the wine.

No need for cork. Unscrew the top
off Mortal Zin. 'Tis time. 'Tis time.

 

[legerdemer]

2-4

Ponder...

Ponder the digits of your hands: eight, with two opposing thumbs.
Ponder their strength when they lift, or pull, or push.
Ponder their power as they wield a pen, keyboard, a phone - weapons of our age.
Ponder how delicate they can be when they stroke my skin.
Ponder their playful wrapping 'round my waist, or arm, or breast,
Ponder their smooth drawing of circles on soft, moist flesh.
Ponder the yearning they bring out in me.

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-18

Second Life Poetry #6

The Wrong Ball

Dance
with
me. Moves
you've never
thought to see yourself
twist and grind against such full curves.
No harsh rejection,
but do it
without
your
clothes.

 

[Angeline]

1-18

Have you heard?

Some guy saw a bunch
of birds perching on wires.
Being human he imagined
notes on a staff:
thus a song was born.

They say it ain't half
bad, his capriccio
of crows, grackles,
juncos whatever
they were probably
prosaic warblers
resting their wings--
robins, wrens or some such
things, beady-eyed and gray.

But imagine another
song of wild piping voices,
dissonant and odd,
if instead he'd written
what those birdies
really said.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:18

I can't do it.
I've scrolled pages
and pages, Yahoo has nothing
to eek out a poem today.
Usually SOMETHING
there to make me laugh, but no.
It's depressing, like the news
someone's dying
someone's child is abused
no one's animal is treated worse
than that abused child.
See, depressing like this
poem (?) I got nothing,
--> new destination for inspiration.

 

[greenmountaineer]

1-5

What Depression Is

In my dream I am my father,
a bag boy at the A&P
for all of the Mrs. Murphy-Millers
who know which bones have the most marrow,
quick to tell the boss Monday Monday
I didn't work hard for my money
of uncolored oleomargarine
I smear on the ghost of my father.

And to the ghost of my mother
I throw string beans dead on Blue Sunday
she drops in a pot without any chicken
vegetable soup for supper.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-19

Removed

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-19

A Question

I have stood as tall as my toes
allow to peer over the heads
of other scrabblers and rock
scrubbers, over the hats
of uniformed ranks standing
solemnly and looking forward.
Now, when I turn to look behind
I see all of the answers to questions
already asked and I wonder what
form my own query should take
and what will happen if we
should ever run out
of wonder?

 

[Angeline]

1-19

MJQ Fib

It
ain't
baroque
so don't try
to fix it. Listen--
it's a modern take on improv,
but blues still live there
welling up
tapping
that
vibe