30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

[butters]

4 -1

Once upon a time

- or world
goldilocks was a better-mannered child
would never have slipped
uninvited
into someone elses house
nor stolen their food
abused their furniture
would have instead
stayed
to admire the garden
and introduce herself politely
to the bears
maybe accept
an invitation to dine
though she may well have had
a knife in her garter...
just in case

 

[Remec]

11 - 9 The Love Magnet Failed

He was used to
being called 'rumpled',
it came with the
territory of having
been named as he was,
with all curls and
twists to the edges of
both himself and his wardrobe,
but there was something
about how the last
dismissal from
the royal court that
left him feeling
nothing so much as
crumbled.

 

[butters]

5 - 1

there's enigmatic
and - more obtusely - deliberately opaque
a communiqué
fulfilling its purpose
only by appearing on my screen
offering me nothing more concrete
than 'document dispatched'
from a donotreply address
leaving me none the wiser
and unable to commit to happy

fuckers even signed off
Best Regards

 

[butters]

6 - 1

when is a microwave
(as opposed to a micro wave)
not a microwave?
enigmas abound
the mystery deepens
the microwave has become
a non-microwave
a missing microwave
an absentee
or invisible
thing
lost somewhere between then and the here and the now
green bar forever halted
forever brightly 'dispatched and being delivered TODAY!'
for 5 whole days
no bermuda here to blame
nor any point of triangulation
perhaps it fell off the back of the DHL van
right into someone else's kitchen

i told him we should have just gone to the shop to get one
mothers know these things
ammirite?

 

[Remec]

11 - 10 Long Day

I would have hated to mess up simply for a lack of sleep, y'know?

 

[HarryHill]

x-1

Sir Charles gave me the elbow and a bit of a needle,
'You're a clown,' sez he, 'people want the pork,
pulled or forked, no matter you see.'

I remained silent; the cheek of this git,
ragging on me when he, so full of the shit,
missed the point, hell, this is history in the making.

"So, you won't lend me the cash,
take a stake in this thing."

'Not a pence, and I advise you, henceforth,
to forget these mad dreams,
airships floating over the countryside.
pfitt.'

I sit and sketch, refine her sleek lines,
imagine the fruit of my grand designs,
nested on a cloud.

 

[butters]

7 - 1

he's back and,
god, this athiest's missed him
with his wry gaze
his smile his
two hands
heart and
body

and i guess
to a critic
this isn't much of a poem
but let me tell you
(yeah, yeah, 'show show show!)
he makes my brain sing
words fly
and can paste a smile as wide as texas on my face
reinvent niagara falls
in my eyes
and my heart?
well, it's double the size!

 

[Remec]

11 - 11 Mirrored

If
you
could only
see what I
can see when I am
looking at you
the way
I
do.
​

 

[HarryHill]

x-2

This life of lines chose me; not I,
declaring in stentorian exclamation,
take up the stylus; make your mark.

This life is like a bottle of ink,
upended, running where gravity leads,
'cross flats, off drops, splattering,
puddles and drips into cavities,
stains all touched in shades of it's tint.

No medium is safe from this mind,
not stone, not skin, not the heavens beyond,
cut limestone laid in a wall,
fingers trace the rise of a breast,
the circles that enclose us all.

 

[Remec]

11 - 12 Anniversary

It follows,
the way one foot follows another
when walking,
that my eyes will mist and water
when I happen to note the date.

 

[butters]

8 - 1

that's what happens
when you get a step ahead of yourself
you find the path's not quite there
like an online game building itself as it goes
only coming into existence
at that right moment
coinciding with your timely arrival
before disappearing
pixels winking out in one incarnation
only to rearrange and return in another

getting one step ahead
makes for glitches
where life's not quite coloured in
and no matter how often you press X
or push the thumbstick forward
you're left stuck
one foot in the air
the road not yet built

reboot

 

[HarryHill]

x-3 After the game

Cinema Paradiso babbles Italiano,
no eye for the subtitles, no eye,
watching as I type my reply,
no loving emoticon kissing me goodnight
no little blue lights flickering like mad,
just a soggy waterchild missing his Ku

Tomorrow, early, without fail,
to the library, check e-mails,
send another to you,
sort this internet mess

 

[Remec]

11 - 13 Faithless

The song lingers;

We had such a short
dance between ourselves,
Fate can be so capricious,
just ask the Queen who only
rules be way of a quiet
thirst slaked with six,
just six,
lowly pomegranate seed;

On a similar summer day,
newlywed and quite full of
joy--the sort that makes one's
whole body move, swaying to
whatever dance happens
along and not minding where
feet are being planted;
until a step lands upon a
sleeping serpent, whose
bite was a quick ticket to the
barge and past all the guardians
keeping me apart from
my love;

But not his song;

It was nothing like what had
drawn me to him;
no grand sweeping passages,
or playful little themes that
he would return to in
variation after variation;
this was dark and heavy,
bending any ear so as to make
them feel the grief he was
going through, one so strong
that it carried him right
to the throne room--
past Ferryman,
past Hound,
until he played for our
Dread Lord and was told to
go and he would have me
follow, but not to look back
until we were both fully
in the light;

And his song returned as before;

I felt it more than heard it,
a beckoning,
a welcoming,
a musical awakening that
drew me along in its passing
back towards the surface;
faltering just as the entrance
was within sight, I watched from
the shadows as his head cocked,
as if trying to hear my footsteps,
sounds no wraith would be making,
and when he turned,
a silhouette in the doorway,
the music fell and I sighed as
all was lost;

But his song lingered,
hung around the chamber,
in my ears and about my form,
resounding to the very depths,
to no avail.

If only his Faith had been as
strong as his
Love.

 

[butters]

9 - 1

the moon peeps out
from the shadow-hood across her face

it does nothing to hide her imperfections
but somehow makes them more beguiling

but in reality
she's a stone-faced bitch
coyness a cultivated look
a masquerade to cover cold indifference
until she's ready to cast the look aside
in favour of her brilliant naked sail across the night
mooning us all

i'm sure i hear her laughter
it's a chilly night, for sure

 

[HarryHill]

x-4 Eight days ago

A war, a curse on all things electronic,
deaf boy, crippled fucker,
surfing demonic inter-waves,
I'd scream but the library's so quiet,
nowhere else to go if they tossed me out

 

[Remec]

11 - 14 Valentine's

Puddled deliciousness,
lying forgotten beneath preoccupied forms
savoring one another
and exploring all their varied desserts
while celebrating the annual love festival.

 

[butters]

10 - 1

cupid's not so sweet
there's a sting to his arrow
but its fleeting ping
my ruptured skin
and smitten heart
means i'm bitten by the love-bug
a wtf?
love-struck
love lived
and written
so cupid
you little fuck
all's forgiven

 

[HarryHill]

x-5 Feb. 5th

Hard rain has fallen down,
soaked the earth, drowned the worms,
whose only choice was to leave underground,
greet the robins rain day

 

[Remec]

11 - 15 Stains

I set the throw pillows
back in place at the corners
and center of the couch
and take a step back;
They seem slightly off
against the background
of the new slipcovers on
the cushions beneath them;
I had tried Shout,
Wool-lite,
Carbona, but nothing worked
at removing what we'd left
upon the actual fabric;
Which was just as well, it
was one of the few things
of yours I still have
around.

 

[butters]

11 - 1

here it is again
that staring blankly at a blank page pain
brain in overdrive
on so many levels
unable to focus
too many beveled mirror-edges
ideas fledge and flounder
chaos revels in those too big
rounder pegs unfit for squarer holes
oh, lawks a mercy,
i've hit rock bottom cos i'm using 'souls' because it rhymes
i think this one should get buried in the pit
beneath a sack of lye or some other caustic shit
quick! toss in those sods, get on with it
cover it
leave no headstone
no rude grave marker
that's the gist of it
it's a farkin disaster

 

[HarryHill]

x-6 Finding butters

Caught up, e-mails, bills,
notes passed behind 30/30s keen,
kisses snatched by all unseen,
the computer boss got a little snippy,
'what's wrong with the library's machines?'

"I'll be out by noon," logged on a
:gasp: porn site
out by 12:01, Ku in my pocket

 

[butters]

12 - 1

the drip
hangs from the tap
not enough science
to make it fall
inertia

the frisbee
hangs in the air
at the point where
forward momentum
equals resistance
inertia

i
hang between wake
and sleep
waiting for science
to overcome inertia
so i may ride
the slow wave

 

[Remec]

11 - 16 Last Minute Effort

Have to get my writing more collegiate--deadlines made for the best stuff.

 

[HarryHill]

x-7

In bed by 10:00 P,
up at 12:00 A,
wasted day?
nope, spent it all with Ku,
twisted in sheets,
holding you in muzzy awakenings,
sprawled together in sleep,
dreams of tomorrow and tomorrow

And here today I spill,
my words on pristine page,
wishing you posthaste my love,
all the sun you will

 

[butters]

x-7

In bed by 10:00 P,
up at 12:00 A,
wasted day?
nope, spent it all with Ku,
twisted in sheets,
holding you in muzzy awakenings,
sprawled together in sleep,
dreams of tomorrow and tomorrow

And here today I spill,
my words on pristine page,
wishing you posthaste my love,
all the sun you will

he gifts me sunsets
dawns
milky sprawl of unfamilar stars
fields of words
tied with wild blossom threads
as soft green grasses wave and bend
fragrant 'neath my muzzy head
and all the mists and rains and snowfire i could wish
the sunshine of his heart my skin to kiss


post-tardy butters