30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

[champagne1982]

2015-1-9

Blue Sentence

It's amazing how here on this planet we are surrounded by blue.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-9

Removed

 

[Angeline]

1-10

​The Brute come scratchin
at Mary Lou's window
cause they was cuttin
something terrible
at the Yeah Man
on 14th.

Bean had drove
all from St. Joe,
so was nohow ready
to walk

and the strange gray
cat kept serving it up
cool and light.
He is long and Bean
is compact, husky-
toned but he could not
blow that reedy cat
away.

That piano man on his knees,

say Brute so Mary Lou
got to wake up,
caffeinate her attitude,
flex her long fingers

which ain't no thing
as she been stridin
since she was the little
piano girl of East
Liberty Street.

She takes Brute's arm
and they hazard over the ice,
dawn maybe an hour or so
from the Yeah Man.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-10

Removed

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-10

Second Life Poetry #1

Virtually

if virtual reality swallowed
you whole you would be here
with me and see the loveliness
these avatars create and put
together for the delight
of others to see and play
inside the landscapes
and on the scripted
primitive shapes sculpted
into furniture and trees
and clothes and hair
and we must never forget sex
always there is sexuality
to reject or embrace in
its own exploration and taste

 

[Neonurotic]

2:10 Overcast

The ocean and the sky meet
where I get lost in the gray.
The fog confuses, has me breathing
water, choking on air or maybe,
really, I'm drowning in the clouds.

I'm guessing, today is not a good day.

 

[Angeline]

1-11

Where once
culture floated
upriver
and stream,

now there are tracks
and roads, a fine pot
for simmering a gumbo
of style and tradition.

Caravans
of transport--
trains and automobiles
snake across the land
so that the roux

of blues,
those wails born
in suffering,
combine with ragtime,
march with second lines
and embrace the gaudy shame
of minstrelsy.

From barge and paddle
wheeler to the sleek silver
express or a banged
up retrofitted hearse
full of musical
ambition lost
on some road that ain't
even on the map,

America is moving.

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-11

Second Life Poetry #2

Physically

I bet you fill out that hot avatar
fuller than the 6% body fat
listed on your shape stats.
If your abs were that ripped,
you wouldn't be on a permanent
beach vacation in that other grid
you log in to when your bio-self
needs sustenance, sleep, or life.
Here you are immortal. Here harsh
truths have no place amidst
all of the fifty-ish twenty-somethings.
It's alright, I'm not telling all
of the truth in my profile, either.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:11 Not a New Conversion On Your Belt

Knock, knock, knock!
more shirts and ties at my door
I'm not switching sides
(well, not the religious kind).

Boys, I'm tired of this place,
with every store, restaurant
movie theater all closed
on Sunday. Forget beer, nachos,
girls in short-shorts, watching
the big game on that day.
Boys, I'm tired of everyone,
the small-minded, the judgmental
the slow-witted country folk
who only know to fuck and live
off their church, are greedy,
scamming Herbert for money.

It's not the view, I'd stay
here for just that because
everywhere I look, it's a perfect
photo, from red sands, delicate
arches to hoodoos that inspire
me even on bad days.

It's the people. That holier-than-thou
hypocrites. I can't go anywhere
without long sleeves, because with the ink
I'm a walking billboard for a sermon if I do.
Yo, I'm not you, your religion.
Get off of my back (ya don't want to
see it anyway, all of voodoo is there).
This is my body and I will do with it
what I please. And I do.

I work on holy days, cut my grass,
paint the house, have long necks
right there on my front lawn,
stripped down to my waist.
See those tattoos, they really are
talking now, louder than any
admonish, there in full color glory.

Yo, come spring, I'm packing house
and hold. One less conversion
on your belts missionary boys.
My drawers stay blue, black or purple,
never white, nor blessed (unless of course,
I've a tent then there's nothing pure in mind).

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-11

Removed

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-12

Second Life Poetry #3

Musically

You grab a stream and play
the blues or show us where
music is going with mixers
and talent and choices
of electronic or organic
instruments that you pluck,
pick, blow, or beat notes
to wind up all those skinny
avatar hips and even to lift
me up out of my seat
dancing moves my butt
can barely remember.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-12

Removed

 

[Angeline]

1-12

Prez Gets the Heebies

Yeah
man,
sez Prez,
a Johnny
Deathbed on a plane
is a no-eyes worrisome thing.
It's a hard luck ride.
I don't dig
that bird's
sore
wing.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:12 Six Years and Some Months Later,
....... The Reason Why

When I saw you loved me, I stepped back;
worse, I realized I loved you too
and ran away, ending all that we were.
I'm sorry,
we should have remained friends.
However, the conundrum still lingers,
that it was never possible. The inevitable
would've always been wanting more.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-13

Removed

 

[Angeline]

1-13

Rabbit's Fib

Let's
fall
in love
the band sings
with a bounce and swing
that bubbles up like champagne rings
in the new even
though it's blue
winter
out
there.

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-13

Second Life Poetry #4

Lyrically

I write poems to sing
or to read silently
yet still hear the music
in your head as you scan
and put notes against
your tongue to form
a melody that only you
can hear and a beat
only your toe can tap
and I can tell that when
you listen to me read
you know the sounds
I've been playing
inside my head too.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:13

I've always thought it was the eyes
that I was attracted to, but no,
I realize, it's the brows, especially
if she can raise one well tweezed
dark, arched brow. It usually means
I've done something or about to
and the reprimand is really pleasure.

 

[Angeline]

1-14

Jazz Messenger Fib

When
we're
moanin
the groove is
a relentless luge
ride, an icy bone chiller slip
slide into the cool
blue caverns
hard bop
calls
home.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:14 Better Than Any Diet Pill

That cat can time it right
when I sit down for dinner
to lay a stinker so no fork
would ever pass my lips.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-14

Removed

 

[champagne1982]

2015-1-14

Second Life Poetry #5

Individually

I belong to a few groups there
and even though I have many
who call me friend and even
some who love me I know
that were I to slip away
tomorrow only a few
would even know
I'm gone.

 

[Trixareforkids]

2-15

Removed

 

[greenmountaineer]

Thank You

You won some contest in Houston,
run by a widow whose money was used
until the money ran out.

Yankee frugal I am not,
but still I leafed a poem or two,
before I paid my dollar,

marked down from five,
down from three,
to Messrs. Barnes & Noble.

And I’m glad I found you, Nolan,
whatever the few pennies you got,
so here’s a little ditty

to thank you for two triolets,
a curtal sonnet, a ballad,
a little vers libre to boot,

and for saying something about
the value of retail poetry
at less than three cents a pop.

 

[Neonurotic]

2:15 Blub, Blub

She makes soap from scratch,
like cake and frosting.
It smells sweet, but don't eat,
or you'll shit bubbles.