30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

2:24

From pescatarian to
carnivore and back again
and I wonder how I did
it before. All this fiber
binds me like a corset,
desiring a fainting room
to sit and moo a spell.
 
1-11

Reclining Nude

In Soho's summer afternoon steam
through subway grates and skylight screens
we set the table for Cornish cream tea.

Tonight, my Dear, Dom Perignon,
what's left of the scone and clotted cream,
as I remove my organza gown
to recline on red satin sheets,

whilst you, my Modigliani
whose strokes are as soft as a feather,
paint the very first inch of me.
 
2-25

Joy Spring

It bubbles up,
you walk on air don't
even care if the day
is grey. Sorrow
slips in someone

else's fray.

You snap to bop
bashing steady
in between the high
hat beat and breeze
that floats on bouncy
keys when Clifford
blows the blue
and calls the sun.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dnK6OHPQZbA
 
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2015-1-25

Abridged Ode To Naught

When nothing is of nothing more
and something holds that something true
then anything that anything may bring
could never say never with you

Somewhere is where we sometimes seek
and tomorrow happens when
someone loves just one someone new
and always lights the ever then

we know that nothing can be more
and something always tells us lies
of anything brought by anything
is never trusted by the wise
 
2:25 PETA

Her T-shirt said: People. Eating. Tasty. Animals—I said, "I'll eat her first!"
 
1-12

The Five Stages of Grief

First denial, then comes spleen
as angry as hell must be.

Then there comes the bargaining,
followed by purblind que será

será
before acceptance brings
truth, provided I choose to see.
 
2:26 Catch and Release

Fresh frozen, Chinese caught tilapia runs farmed waters again. Flush!
 
2015-1-26

Sated

Replete with milk and suckle your tongue rolls the last drop around and out.
 
1-26

Possibility

From our shared loss this friendship grew and grows into something more. Who knew?
 
1-13

Changing Diapers

I remember, Dad, which little piggy
wee wee wee'd all the way home

or maybe I really didn't,
just a way to pass some time
with Peggyann stories you told me

when I rolled you over each morning
and your half-a-laugh sputum muttered
you must have smelled to high heaven

you who once had a way with words
who no longer knows my name

nor why a bag is strapped to your leg
you smile at all the same.
 
2:27 Pineapple Express

The warm before the storm is rain in sunshine—flip flop weather—not a snow day.
 
1-27

Eckphrastic Pantoum

The city in a downpour--
yellow, green and red
where lines have melted
black to shine and spread

yellow, green and red
dripping on the night,
black to shine and spread
as if nothing is complete

dripping on the night
but blurry, cars and streets
as if nothing is complete
and everything unsaid

but blurry cars and streets
with one short swath of blue
and everything unsaid
in everything you see

with one short swath of blue
where lines have melted
in everything you see
the city in a downpour.

http://vortalobjects.secureitm.com/image/facn/UserFiles/Image/2_-PROFILE-JEREMY-MANN-OIL-CANVAS-PAINTING-POST-STREET-DOWNPOUR.jpg

Post Street Downpour, Jeremy Mann, oil on canvas
 
1-14

Learning to Roll Your R's

In English, say "pot of tea"
which sounds very much like "para tí"
in Spanish which means "for you"
and say it at least four times

potofteapotofteapotofteapotoftea

But then again what the f
is doing is dragging your R's.
So drop the f and say instead

potateapotateapotateapotatea

but don't confuse it with potato
which is a possibility.

And when you say "mi Amor"
at the end of "para tí"
she'll think that you're her Romeo,
but say instead "Amore"

and what you have when you say "para tí"
better not be a potato
if you hope she'll roll her R's,
but that's another story.
 
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2:28 Chokefest

Artichoke leaves dipped in butter—a reformed vegan pretends it's crab.
 
2015-1-28

How?

How can I say goodbye
when my closed eyes
still see your smile
and watch your gray-
hazelled eyes glint
a twinkle at my answer?

How can I say goodbye
when I feel your touch
on my hands as I smooth
them over my scars;
marks of life and living,
reminders of my gifts
of children and my soul?

How can I say goodbye
when I hear I love you
in every corner, with each
breath of wind
and the sighs of my lips
against the pillow
that still holds your scent?

How can I say goodbye
when I can't believe
you're already gone?
 
1-28

Jazzy Double-Dactyl

Higgledy-piggledy
jazz is implicitly
running like bluesblood through
my ev'ry vein.
Could it be possible
genealogical
data might prove it's some
ancestral strain?
 
1-15

Christopher Hitchens

Neither I nor the four flippers of the sea-bear of the Boreal ocean have been able to solve the riddle of life.”
― Comte de Lautréamont


Christopher Hitchens, having just finished
reading The Origin of Species,
decided that God never existed,
and life began with nuclear fission.

Christopher Hitchins spit out the tip
of his two pound sterling cigar
inside his wainscoted den
enjoying another snifter of
Louis XIV Rémy Martin.

Christopher Hitchens fell asleep
from having too much Louie,
and in his dream he saw a bird.
In fact it was a mockingbird
on the Galápagos Islands
eating loads of loaves and fishes

and Christopher Hitchens, wearing a mitre
and the purest white papal shoes,
gave the blessing, but not for the ghosts
of Christmases, Marley, or Scrooge,
all sharing some pints of bitter
sitting on top of tortoise shells
made from the finest oak laminate
and the finest man made screws.
 
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2015-1-29

One To Go

Just
one
poem
more poem
to keep me on track
to finish thirty in a month
takes no small stubborn
streak to write
thirty
on
time
 
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