30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

[Trixareforkids]

2-3

Removed

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-4

Thirty-Three Below

Not much moves in a frost-painted
freeze-dried landscape. It's a wonder
that the air can be penetrated
by raven-flight on obsidian feathers.
Puffed up waxwings sing muted notes
perched in the pines and huddled
in their hundreds for communal warmth.

Chimneys plume heated exhaust
from glittering rooftops and if you watch,
the steam falls and scrubs the air
so that all human eyes can see
is the clear blue of an ozone atmosphere
reflecting the light of a distant sun. I hope
warmth will return because thirty-three
below is only pretty through my window.

 

[Angeline]

1-4

Big Shoe

Side by Side
at 6:35 starts low
but hops to it
when Papa jumps in.

Duke vamps silver
as a bell till Rabbit
slides silky smooth
as any coloratura--

pure lush with rills
and runs, agile leaps
that land soft
tossed from a small
man with a 1,000-yard
stare who blows
his ineffable breath
casual as a breeze.

 

[legerdemer]

1-3 Getting ready

Water rolls luxuriantly off
the curves of my breasts,
streams joining in the middle,
in the vale between them.

Slips gently down my stomach.
Ripples fall softly from my navel.
Continue down the smooth mound
and on between my thighs.

I wash carefully,
Dip, tentative, inside.
Trace patterns in reply,
anticipating need.
Then pat dry.

I smooth the lotion on,
first up one leg,
then the next.
Rub lazy circles round my breasts,
nipples now pert and tight.

Cinch the corset, one closure at a time,
the satin slick against my skin.
Slide my hands, dream of his
holding me round the waist.
Pull the cords tight.

Set breasts upon their shelf,
white skin pressed to black lace
tracing the top, nipples below the edge.
A single laugh will bring them out.

The thong on next,
black lace with red.
Thin strip just covering the lips
that start to weep.

Roll on the stockings over pointed toes,
smooth the thin satin over knees and up.
Adjust the seam straight, up the back.
Take a quick peak.

It's now all ready to come off.


I know it needs a lot of work, it's all over the place...

 

[Neonurotic]

2:4

Day 4 and already bored of this
My attention span is like
this kitten. Flit, flit
and away. Hyper active,
bouncing on walls, follows me
everywhere, instead of Baby Girl,
the kitten is her cat

But she's on me, literally,
around the ankle, all for legs
claws out and teeth chewing
my jeans--thank you jeans!
No scratches or tooth marks
because of you jeans.

Kitten is nicknamed
Bounce, Turd,
Catattack, which she does
from under the sofa,
nip and run!

Baby, come get my
annoyance!

Bite of tuna, lick of milk
and then finally kitten
snuggles in my lap. I like her
best like this.

Though this when she is
taken away from me
to be with her kitty-cat parent.

Until of course, the Pest
is riled and returns,
attacking my leg, her favorite
blue jean scratching post.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-4

Removed

 

[Angeline]

1-5

Wheels on tracks
create bounce and swing
that repeat in measures

clack a clack a wheeze clack

a steady rhythm section
keeps that train rolling--
you dig?

_______Long comes a whistle

one startled note attenuated,
one passing cycle
of call and respond.

That rhythm plays over
and over miles ahead
behind and in between
stops to play music
that sounds like a train.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:5 Pocketful of Peace

As I watch the rise, it lights
the path I run every morning.
Charcoal limbs turn into cedars.

I hold my breath,
close my eyes.

Thirty seconds, a minute,
a minute and a half,
the dawn warms my face,
and I inhale the sunshine.

I pocket this calm for keeps,
saving it for another day
when peace is ripped away.

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-5

Counting

It's been eight weeks already.
Fifty-six days of not waking
with you, of not kissing you
good morning or night and that's
too long already. I don't think
I will ever stop counting. Time
marked by the kissed tips
of my fingers passed over the case
that holds you now, as I ever
did in life. But its embrace is none
so soft as mine, it does not answer
with remembered warmth. It is cold
out but not so chill as these ashes,
your fire is extinguished though
the heat of how we loved remains.

 

[legerdemer]

1-4 Mine

Mine,
Stuck in my womb,
cut out, flesh of my flesh,
blood of my blood.
I would spill more, for you…

My child,
Swathed into sheets each night.
Kicked and unwound free,
leg thrown atop.
You melted of exhaustion,
stomped your will
with the frustration of children.
Now finally asleep, thick lashes
rest on your cheeks.

Your father’s mouth, his lips and lashes.
My cheeks, my eyes I see in you.
Tucked next to me,
a kitten’s paws relaxed,
angelic looks
Mislead.

Kid thoughts spill out, entertain,
bubble, take flight again.
Earnest and free.
Ten years from now,
Where will you be?
And who?

We play, we fight, we tease,
Both stubborn, a shared plight.

The gift I begged for grew,
and I receive it new
each day.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-5

Removed

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-6

Removed

 

[Angeline]

1-6

Daybreak Express*

Private rooms
for Duke and Lil Strays,
first-class air-conditioned
comfort for the band
is the instrument.

1936

and Duke has greatness
thrust upon him.
He meets it cool
with a graceful smile,
a debonair air,
throws back his sculpted head,
his perfect hair and laughs

because we are rolling baby--

money music men
are rolling south
where Jim Crow is
a murderous monster
waiting on bloods

but these are private
cars and Duke knows gents
and wise guys,
but mainly dollars talk
louder than hate,
and a train becomes
a talisman on wheels.

And an't those porters
proud to care for these
crazy braves headed south
like magi bearing gifts
that tap and blare,
to strike at the heart
of ignorance

with pounce and stride
that make feet pat
heads nod and fingers
snap until every body
jumps like those 88s,
jumps to forget
the weary blues circa
1936, jumps
to a sound that swings
like a train.

*still not done!

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-6

Pine Twig Shimmy

In the freshening dawn breeze
you can watch the frost laden
branches ripple like a current
just broke through the ice
and sent the floes to waltzing
down the stream only to sink
beneath the thicker coat over
the secret depths of the lake.

Their finery of silvered white
sloughs off to fall in feathery
silence on a branch below
then with a shudder that one
lets go to send its cascade
across another and repeat
until the pine has woke out
of frozen sleep and ruffles its fir.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:6 Fall Down, But Get Up Too

"Scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue. Realize the strength, move on."
Henry Rollins


It's part of living, like every
line on our face. Age is not just a number,
it tells us where we've been,
where we are going.

Show me the scars you've earned
and I'll show you mine
that one on my brow is from a fall
when I was nine. I picked myself up
the one on my knee shaped
like a divot is when I fell again at
twelve years.

The scar on my cheek is where
I fell for the last time, guzzled
a fifth of Beam and shot myself in the face.
It's a graze but the scar is there to remind
me I can pick myself up again and again
wherever I am, whatever I've done.

Fall down a lot, but get up too.
Those bruises and cuts are yours
you've earned them. They hurt,
they heal and you learn.
And none of this needs to be done alone,
I'm here, like you've there been for me.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-7

Removed

 

[Neonurotic]

2:7 Eggasm

Two eggs fried in a cast iron skillet,
flipped once until the yolk is medium
then placed gently, reverently on toasted
sunflower seed bread, buttered
with the artery clogging real stuff.
Make it into an oh my god sandwich!
That first bite is a cholesterol, golden ooze
of better-than-sex yum I wait for all week.

 

[Angeline]

1-7

The best of America
burns like a candle that won't
be cursed into darkness.

The best of America
adventures over tracks
clattering in rhythm
over roads bouncing
on tires--
trains buses trucks, private
cars freight cars freight elevators.
Downstairs backstairs back
doors. Wheels and feet
in motion all a'whirr
like the busiest
of ants.

Sometimes the best
of America flies away
like a bird uncaged,
flies to Paris Stockholm
Copenhagen free
as the beautiful patriotic
half-truth that flaps
in the land of the breeze
so many miles
away.

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-7

Multiple Eggasm

If you think about breakfast
and the careful attention paid
to those bits of pork, fried
until crispy so it will melt
on your tongue in a silky
flood of salty flavour,
there's no stopping the flow
of saliva or the rush of blood
to your cheeks as the scent
invades your nose to implant
itself in your olfactory memory.
The sensuous gleam of yolk
presented as flowing banners
of yellow creaminess against
the browned goodness
of toast spread with sweet
creamery butter, churned
and stirred into luxuriant
toppings for every delightful
bite you take and begin to eat

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-8

Removed

 

[Angeline]

1-8

Have you wondered
where sound goes
when it bounces off keys
or floats from breath
to air?

Does it weave like fog
through empty trees,
leaving wraiths of song
for birds to consider
or does it hang
in one lonesome tree
as if nobody cared
but the breeze and nobody
saw but a waning moon?

Might be it's gone flat
by the side of a road
like a broken-down bus
with a tore up wheel.

That there squatty feller,
low with hands on his knees
and a scowl on his face
might be the very angel
who drove you straight
to heaven, to corny blue

flower fields and bright gold
shine when he blew right
inside you to bounce
and jive with your pulse,

made you dance in the dark
with your head thrown back--

but that
was 64 miles back
Jack

64 miles back.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:8 Flu - virus strain who the hell knows

Hurled in the air, it holds, waiting
for an inhale,
scratch of the nose
Once you do, it is in,
has a hold of you and stays
with you for days.

Maybe
you'll be lucky, and it will be
something common,
likely not. It's something
just as catchy.

It's that mutant from the year
before last, you know,
the one the CDC failed
to get right vaccine for the right strain

Right. The tech in charge of that
was up to his wazoo
with testing for Ebola
When was he ever going to
find the X Y Z for the A, B or C?

This guy who spent months
on bat soup virus knows to
stay home in comfort, hope for a
short season, hole up until spring.

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-8

Bittersweet

The first touch of your tongue
to the candy of the letter
releases sugar and saliva
from your head being full
of anticipation and dread in full
measure. Just a bit of oxymoronic
emotion that shouldn't drive
how shaky your fingers
have become or the sweat
of stress on your palms.

Your claim has been approved,
but oh my love, at what cost?

 

[Angeline]

1-9

Straight Ahead

Think of parades
and second lines
ragtime stride
the deep well of blues
that floats up from the delta.

That's some cloud
of sound settled over the rails
and bouncing down roads
with maps spread wide
for the territories

are great plains
to be conquered
by pioneers of this great
migration that travels
in bands with cymbals horns,
bass drums trunks
full of music and uniforms.

These are men and women
of the new frontier,
a vanguard moving
forward baby
and they want to
take you

to the carnival, too,
sneak you to the alley
behind the tent
with the faint calliope
and peanut shells
where you can have
you a little taste.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:9 A Tale of Two Cancers

Two branches in a tree
have the disease, but are not
the same.

One is quiet grace with leaves
turning, but still holding
on even in cruel winds.
It is strong, believing in the sun,
trunk and earth. The sky
will clear bringing warm weather.

The other branch is bare,
quakes in the winter chill.
Decay thins its twigs, crumbling
bark, exposing its rotting insides.
It excepts its death, with a crack,
the branch falls.

One branch in a tree
still has the disease, but will turn
green again this spring.