30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

[Remec]

9 - 20 Deathbed Orders

We've hit a pause,
the camp is still humping along,
but we've become ants
instead of the bees we had been,
and repairs...refortifications...are
swiftly underway while hands
and materials can be spared
for such.

A touch to my sleeve and a pointed
finger direct me towards one of
the main tents, it is darker inside with
a mingling of smoky residue and
herbal poultices in the air.
I regard my summoner, briefly noting how
even with his chest bared and bandaged
he manages to seem so much larger than
he is--filling the majority of the tent
with his presence.
From the tone of his words, I understand he
believes himself to be exiting soon, a glance
to his physician makes me nod to myself,
and I listen in silence; taking mental notes,
especially near the end of his talk.

"Ready Strength, but leave room for Hope."

I acknowledge his words and return to my post,
satisfied that my first instinct was
on the mark.

 

[Remec]

9 - 21 Tango

I approach the mark with the
measured ease of the amateur
expert--confident, but still
running the steps to come
through my mind as I offer my hand
then clasp her body to me, and
pivot off to begin our dance.
I feel like Pacino, wonder if I should
add in a stout "Hooyah!"
at some point.

 

[legerdemer]

1-20 Wasted Regrets

As children do, I closed my palm—
the flutter light against the skin—
and held the blue-veined gossamer
that spun its diaphanous skein.

The more I held the treasured light,
the more it fought against its plight.
I took too long to understand
the treasure held there in my hand.

 

[Remec]

9 - 22 Pillow Fighting Through the Night

With the fluffiest weapons, we battled until screaming with laughter.

 

[legerdemer]

1-21 Fossil corals

Stone filigree, lace
macramé, millions of cells
now shells life passed by.

 

[Remec]

9 - 23 Careful Landscaping

Hiding in plain view was
sort of her thing, when it
came down to dirty and kinky
stuff that we shared,
I would have never have thought
she was the sort of woman
who might have gotten off
on being stroked commando-style
under the table in front of
Lucy, our usual brunch waitress,
pretty little coed with the sterling
silver cross around her neck, and
eyes that I have expected to fall out
if a braless shirt showed too much
nippled or if a couple of kisses
got out of hand while waiting on
appetizers or fresh drinks,
but that was nothing compared to
the layout of our backyard,
hedges and statuary and, of course,
the way the fencing almost hid the
hot tub and its adjacent deck.
The things one can do under 5 mm
of rapid bubbles boggles the mind.

 

[legerdemer]

1-22 A puffed-up pompous paradelle?

Bound, trussed up, cocooned
Bound, trussed up, cocooned
In useless thought ridiculously lost
In useless thought ridiculously lost
Cocooned in useless thought
Ridiculously lost, trussed up, bound

Fortune's precocious wanderlust
Fortune's precocious wanderlust
Spilled tears amidst the sprinkled dust
Spilled tears amidst the sprinkled dust
Fortune's spilled tears, the wanderlust
Precocious amidst the sprinkled dust.

Spellbound to fear, a captive's plight
Spellbound to fear, a captive's plight
A paradox without an end in sight
A paradox without an end in sight
Captive to fear without an end in sight
A paradox's spellbound plight.

Cocooned, trussed up, a useless sight
Amidst spilled tears, ridiculously lost
Fortune's a paradox without an end
A captive's plight, in spellbound fear
Without precocious wanderlust,
Sprinkled in dust-bound thought.



Alternative last stanza (because I don't know what I'm doing...)

Bound, trussed up, cocooned
In useless thought ridiculously lost
Fortune's precocious wanderlust
Spilled tears amidst the sprinkled dust
Spellbound to fear, a captive's plight
A paradox without an end in sight

 

[legerdemer]

1-23 Seascape

.

A
gale
blows
sails full

Blind I pace
the ship hold,
my cage made
of nothing more
than sheer fantasy.

I search for a way out
and find only our
hearts, still in
the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

[Remec]

9 - 24 Finally Wading Again

Walking the shore,
off-season,
empty and quiet as
seafoam laps
noiselessly against
my shoes and ankles,
tide approaches;

It creeps along,
inching both towards
the parking lot behind
the lightly wooded
row of low dunes
as well as up my
pants leg, hoping to
cool the desires
I had shown it when
last we walked here
together.

I must have forgotten
to tell the tide, but I would
have thought all of
Nature would have
heard my complaints,
lamentations,
arguments and offers
of future service to
whomever would have
helped.
Nothing helped.
No one helped.
Just Time,
my last good friend.

 

[Remec]

9 - 25 In My Mind

In my mind, I will always see your face
with that winsome smile always in place,
the band of freckles crossing over your nose,
and a pair of lips that give me those
indecent thoughts that never seem off base;

In fact, thinking of you is always the case
when I have nothing better to do or time to waste,
because thoughts of you keeps us close,
In my mind.

It frees me up, and seems to add haste
to bridging the gap until I see your face
once more, like Time has froze
solid, leaving us in whatever last pose
we were in without there being a chase
In my mind

 

[legerdemer]

1-24 It's All Wonky Here

If I could carry out some archaeology
on myself, really dig down into the
psychology, I would put it all together
with the sociology and the paleontology
and learn why 2 + 2 always = 5 around
here. Anatomy will point out where to
best place the bullet.

Many years from now, when anthropology
picks over the remains, maybe it will reveal
which side the genetics is really on.
And when the heart and mind duke it out
in a game of Russian roulette, evolution may
finally help move us all along.

 

[Remec]

9 - 26

Today is here. Thanks

 

[legerdemer]

1-25 His Offering

Is it OK that she still dreams
sometimes
of how he knelt in front of her--
his eyes, nose and mouth hungry
for her thick, slick, fragrant flavor?
She remembers how he could
barely contain his patience,
enough only to wrap
his lips around hers
as he knelt
and suckled
and prayed
to his carnal
goddess.

He was naked then, in all ways,
and she received his gift
trembling
with wonder and grace;
wished to receive it
again
and again
every
single
day.

 

[Remec]

9 - 27 About those photos

Seems like not so much Betty Page, and more akin to Bunny Yeager.

 

[legerdemer]

1-26 Truth And Nothing But

What grace does age gift
that isn't fleeting, or a trick?
That net of wrinkles traps
a mind, extends a middle finger
as it were; heartless illusionist
and pitiless, no clarity, just mist
and fog and little else save myth.

 

[legerdemer]

1-27 Spellbound

Memory serves me up a trick, sticks its tongue down my throat, quickens me.

 

[Remec]

9 - 28 Fleetness

So much is made of the matching of bodies,
when what should be sought is a spirit
suitable enough to allow a life of grace;

A life wherein one can commit to grace
without worrying about whether our bodies
share merely matters of flesh, not spirit;

But fleshly concerns are pure Lust, while spirit
touches more upon Love. A Love we hope will grace
us with a presence that goes beyond our bodies.

Bodies are fleeting, spirit less so; Grace is forever.

 

[legerdemer]

1-28 Dreamscape

Someday they might walk
along the beach, salt air
filling their noses, fingers
just touching lightly
watching waves roll over
the sand, spewing sea foam
and mist, sand grains hard
beneath their feet
Perhaps exchange small
pleasantries, argue politics
or art, with faux conviction,
on her part at least.
Or simply walk side by side
arms touching, shoulders
or fingers resting on waist
or hip, just that
familiar touch
knowing what their skin
felt like before
filmed with sweat, coated
with want and need and wonder
knowing that later, or even
sooner, they will share
sweat again. Perhaps.
In some dream.

 

[Remec]

9 - 29 Rooftop

Camping out is the best,
usually,
even when we have to cover
the rooftop of Billy's brownstone
with a dozen old army blankets,
wool always makes itch,
and these remind me of laying
on wrinkled sheep skin instead
of woven sheep hair,

But we make do,
set up a ring of stones,
who knows from where,
around Mary's hibachi and
move from spit-roasting franks
to trying to make s'mores,
but the scent of her body wash
makes me think she's been
bathing in coconut, while the
lack of a breeze coats the
toasted marshmallow so that
my mouth feels like I've been
chewing on briquettes,

Could be worse, at least
it's a clear night and I can
lie back and stargaze while
waiting for sleep to finally
get here--it's apparently afraid
of coming out here in what
passes for urban jungle,
the traffic passing around the
building had the dull hum of
white noise--just a near constant
grating that starts and stops
and never quite ends

Alright, maybe I was wrong,
camping sucks.
Although, we could try again
next week--Vinny and Angela
know someone out on the shore,
little place in the Barrens,
cabin of some kind, maybe,
That might work.

 

[Remec]

9 - 30 Paradelle

The first pulsing gamut of emotions,
The first pulsing gamut of emotions,
And before that blind fondness,
And before that blind fondness,
Before the first memories, that blind gamut
Of fondness and pulsing emotions,

My lust, my love of you are forever
My lust, my love of you are forever
Drawn vividly, our world lives
Drawn vividly, our world lives
You are vividly drawn, my love,
My lust of our world lives forever;

From that pledging so many things,
From that pledging so many things,
to run with the meeting; that fondness;
to run with the meeting; that fondness;
So, the fondness from pledging to
Run that meeting with that many things

My memories of you are lush,
Vividly drawn; Pulsing with emotions;
Lust, love, fondness…so many things
That run the gamut of our lives
From that first blind meeting to
Pledging forever before the world.
~~~~~



(Ok, it was a week or so late, but I said there would be a Paradelle day. )

 

[legerdemer]

1-29 Beltane

Beltane

Into the blaze of the bonfire you started
I threw all my inhibitions, willing sacrifices to
gods I didn't know I worshipped
all caution flying with the sparks into the night

I returned to those sultry days of youth, careless and free
exuberance abounding, greasing the wheels.
We offered each other what can only be called love
in the eyes of bystanders and
acolytes of the same religion.

You fanned the flames so effortlessly
as if I had waited all my life for this raw communion
where words are superfluous
and prayers to any number of gods
and goddesses are given freely,
laced with those natural oils
that ease the way of all insertions
scented with resins and incenses,
aphrodisiac-anointed, throwing spells
and hesitation to the wind.

The memories clamor forth,
overtake and overwhelm
nearly drown me in their potency
nostrils flaring, fingers clawing
body writhing
in pagan rites of abandon to Eros, Cupid, and Kamadeva.

We both sacrificed something,
the charred remains crumbling,
its glowing embers riveting but unforgiving.
It is time to sacrifice again
this time in sadness
to the fires of May.

 

[legerdemer]

1-30 Maelstrom

I've let the undertow take me,
loving that avalanche of feeling
outside the realm of reality
volition just out of reach.
Entranced and helpless, each
yielding leading to another,
one will-bending after the other,
surfeit of lust turning to love,
trembling, igniting sparks,
illuminated bas-relief, scorching
limerence, inflamed senses,
lovers trills with no pretenses.

~~~~~~~~~~,~~~~~~~~~~~

And, a possible cheat, for the sound of it in French:

Mon amour, sans aucun point de repere, je me perds dans ton embrace.
(17 syllables)

(My love, without any point of reference, I lose myself in your embrace. )

 

[Remec]

10 - 1 Challenged

Cradling my head against my palm,
I sit with my elbow upon the desk's edge
and eye both keyboard and screen with
a sense of suspicion and paranoia,
both seem to simultaneously tempt me
and mock me as if daring me
yet again
to ease into that monthly challenge
I am both taken with and
deathly afraid of losing myself
within,
of breaking
down,
this time,
for good.

 

[Remec]

10 - 2 Kicking It

Sometimes, entreaty works; usually, Muses require something firmer.

 

[Angeline]

NSHM (not sure how many) - 1

I dreamed of Maine,
pebbled beaches and rocks
spilling to the sea and behind me
climbing up Cadillac Mountain.

I dreamed for years of solitude
like some frozen Innisfree:
who comes to South Harbor in January
when ice hangs daggers,
windy pines scratch on glass
and snow muffles roofs, roads
in a stranded world at least
until plow guy comes to scrape.

There is nobody but me
bundled against the cold,
walking to the pier, rusting
among traps and peeling boards,
the gray. See the impossible
blue sky which is nowhere
but here.

I dreamed of Maine before
I met you: life is coincidence
or synchronicity, who knows?
This is best pondered with Stoly
and one green olive soaking
sans pimento, when words rumble
in me like heartburn.