It's the 2025 Poem-A-Week Challenge! (This is a *poems only* thread.)

[kreemi_pi]

DEMONT
A Tanka
by kreemi

@DeMont you lovely soul
Lovely lines of yours, I praised
With a simple word
But that's not allowed, i found
Please accept my Tank-you, friend

 

[Tzara]

Jacobean Drama
O, wert not gold and women, there would be no damnation.
―Thomas Middleton, The Revenger's Tragedy

For what else would one seek,
But "love" or sex or wealth?
Nor else has the mystique
Inspiring such stealth

As these two sweetest sins.
Twice fatal when combined,
Their arbitrary whims
Induce each man's decline.

My fate at once was sealed
When you removed your clothes
And smiled as you kneeled
In that submissive pose.

Yet even as you worked,
I fell into a trance
In which my mind still lurked
On your inheritance.

Week 45 : Poem 3 : Total 67

 

[DeMont]

DEMONT
A Tanka
by kreemi

@DeMont you lovely soul
Lovely lines of yours, I praised
With a simple word
But that's not allowed, i found
Please accept my Tank-you, friend

@kreemi_pi

Then lines are easily inspired,
If my soul be found to be so,
With nought but a simple word,
My Muse becomes thus fired.

I Tank you for your kind Tanka-you,
I hope you don't mind my following?
In this place of fleeting rhyme,
At this moment I utter a simple adieu.

Deepest respects, always,
D.

 

[DeMont]

@Angeline,
I'm not sure if it's next week yet???

Weight of evidence

If the evidence were clear, that on a midnight drear,
We could write of love and lust, and least of all fear,
Would our writing come down to one last barb or spear?
Would our thoughts wander freely to our one most dear?

Could we indulge in spontaneous thoughts of sex?
Without incurring a loneliness and a mind's eye hex,
Could we indulge in idle fantasy that reality would vex?
And would we thus end up mindless and idle wrecks?

If the weight of evidence rules our very presences,
If sounds, touch and smells pour through our senses,
Only to run up against stout and impenetrable fences,
A flooding wash of overwhelming born of our essences.

Respectfully and pondering,
D.

 

[42BelowsBack]

Even on Thanksgiving.
A boulevard of men in
cars.

There are tracks humping up her arm,
she had wine and tobacco for dinner

She is the back seat history of cars
heels on an avenue she’s got to eat

She’s always been in the flight path
of male asteroids hurtling at her earth

She will be sold and purchased on a
boulevard of men creeping in cars.


NQ 44 Inspired by @Tzara’s poem ‘The Tracks’ linked article

 

[Tzara]

Despair

Yeah, I've written a poem or two,
But they sucked like a straw filled with glue.
So I fell back on this
Which is weak as cat's piss,
But at least it's complete. So I'm through.

Week 46 : Poem 1 : Total 68

 

[kreemi_pi]

There Are Some Guys
by Kreemi

There are some guys
Who don't take it lightly
If you're chasin' their wives
And you're doin' it nightly

There are some guys
Who take those vows seriously
When you try to cut in
They react oh so furiously

There are some guys
Don't wanna wear horns
You fuck em and you'll rue
The day you were born

Some of these guys,
If you mess with their wife
They'll cut you to pieces
With a very sharp knife

Some of these guys
They demand some respect
Leave em alone
Or trouble, expect

Some of these guys
Just don't wanna be cucks
They aint got no patience
For flashy young bucks

 

[DeMont]

There Are Some Guys
by Kreemi

There are some guys
Who don't take it lightly
If you're chasin' their wives
And you're doin' it nightly

There are some guys
Who take those vows seriously
When you try to cut in
They react oh so furiously

There are some guys
Don't wanna wear horns
You fuck em and you'll rue
The day you were born

Some of these guys,
If you mess with their wife
They'll cut you to pieces
With a very sharp knife

Some of these guys
They demand some respect
Leave em alone
Or trouble, expect

Some of these guys
Just don't wanna be cucks
They aint got no patience
For flashy young bucks

@kreemi_pi,

Then there are guys I have found,
In past days of getting around,
That will happily share the wives,
To experience the fuck of their lives.

Male to the female and female,
Or maybe two females per male,
Their excess to happily share,
With a scorching hot sexy pair.

To the touch of experience sing,
Perhaps even wearing that ring,
For none ever should be blind,
To what like spirits have in mind.

The heat of slick trembling flesh,
Sensations new daring and fresh,
Dual contact engraving new lines,
Minds find and accept new signs.

Perhaps guys watch in adoration,
Two goddesses with fascination,
Until feminine bodies show sign,
A fierce threesome is their design.

 

[kreemi_pi]

Some folks, they like it that way
Encourage their spouses to stray
But some of these fellas
Can get pretty jealous
And that aint the game that they play

 

[DeMont]

Some folks, they like it that way
Encourage their spouses to stray
But some of these fellas
Can get pretty jealous
And that aint the game that they play

@kreemi_pi,

Mind closed for repair

Insecurity, social-norm purity,
Lack of imagination, obscurity.

In life should we take chances,
Or stick to our familiar old dances?

Reach out I say, grasp the new,
Play it like that 'Velvet of Blue'.

Our bodies were given us for all,
Life, work, and beds to which we fall.

Our lips to talk, purse and prey,
To adore, taste, touch and play.

Fingers to touch, slide and feel,
Slick cloth to remove, and reveal.

And if by another mind's design,
Of this we are denied any time.

Then we utter in complete despair,
Oh no! Mind is closed for repair.

 

[amitheotherone]

Rembrandt’s Smile
The reflection in the mirror is a lie
Diminished vision still must try
Details disappear become simplified
Refracted darkness escapes and divides
Imploded soul undermines highlights
Thick small spot placed in so tight
An illusion of life that speck of light
Eye awakens it hasn’t lost its fight
Deep thin line defines all that is lost
Thin wash gives an impression of frost
Expressing that sad smiles cost

 

[amitheotherone]

Unwritten or unread

Those words never written
Those words never spoken or expressed

Those words never read
Those words never heard or accepted

Those words that you deleted
Those words that you wish were erased

Those words seen and then taken
Those words you never want to see

Those words your too scared to say
Those words you fear for their reply

Those words that you can’t get out
Those words your too ashamed to say

Those words to never again be written
Those words to never be spoken again

 

[DeMont]

Are you real?

A lot of discussion spent in devoting,
Are we by our action self promoting?
Our readership makes marks denoting,
Upon our sweet stories by their voting.

In hot porn scenes we spin our tales,
Sex there in all its forms, it prevails,
Do we write for ourselves or sales,
Words beside which experience pales?

Is it imagination which wildly drives,
A once wish filled living of our lives,
As our minds and that in them strives,
For fantasy or experience that survives.

While behind a username and avatar,
We are our own vision of a superstar,
While not being here does reality jar,
Do we push things a little bit too far?

No doubt that we are people that feel,
Are we seeking some kind of appeal?
Do we assume a lifelong shell of steel,
The thing I feel is always are you real?

Inspired by Gary Numan - "Are you real?"

 

[kreemi_pi]

I Am Smoke

It doesn't matter
I'm not there
Behind or in front
Or anywhere

A whisp of vapor
A cloud of smoke
I exist
As a keyboard stroke

Am I real?
How would you know?
Follow wherever
Imagination goes

Real as a pussy
Wet and dripping
Fake as a vision
When you're tripping

Cum in colors
Breathe in clouds
A silent whisper
So deafening loud

See me touch me
Use my hole
Drink my nectar
Steal my soul

 

[Angeline]

1969

Washington Square Park at dawn,
dew on the grass, hippies and dog
walkers parade the square. A Mother
of Invention bums a smoke from me.
His name, he says, is Motorhead

and he's a scary-looking fellow,
scraggy beard, bad teeth. Sure,
I liked the show but Chicago
and The Youngbloods way more
than the Mothers to be honest.

Motorhead motorvates. I'm relieved
because the trees are dripping
Summery green Sun slanting
over George's Arch. I'm coming
down and the world is still

beautiful. Fillmore vibes, light
show high still glimmering
in me. Back to Jersey I sit
on Steve's lap. We make out
through the Lincoln Tunnel.
By Ho-Ho-Kus he is definitely
my boyfriend.




Week 46, Poem 1, Total 55

 

[kreemi_pi]

Two fellas who really hard-kinked her
Two sausages DP'd and linked her
Two very good friends
Went in from both ends
Engaged her vagina and sphincter

 

[Angeline]

Melancholic Triolet

We're sinking in grift and decay,
In hunger and cruelty, despair.
The outcome of this modern play~
We're sinking in grift and decay.
It worsens with each passing day.
Stand up for what's right if you care.
We're sinking in grift and decay,
In hunger and cruelty. Despair.



Week 46, Poem 2, Total 56

 

[Mrtenant]

Broken

I cannot remember when
I last felt your love for me
I cannot remember when
I last felt your respect

I cannot remember how
It felt to be loved by you
I cannot remember how
You ever saw me worthy

I cannot remember why
I hang onto to hope for us
I cannot remember why
It ever even mattered

I cannot remember ever
Not feeling this pain
I cannot remember ever
A single day of reprieve

Like a shadow or a curse
How some mistakes linger
Am I a fool for my love and hope
That I have earned forgiveness

Why should I care

How lonely is the night
When I struggle to hold on
To our love that seems so gone
All these long years

Who am I without this
I don't know anymore
Will I break if I let go
Maybe that would be better

Released at last
Broken
But with no more doubt
Broken
Because its always been
Broken

 

[SpermFactory]

On fake
language

A poem in
sentences
commuted.

She was
thinking

in writing,
about a

gentleman.
Her sugar’s

dog. That one
barked, like her

memory
redacted.

She begs your
pardon. Your

memory is
redacted.





(39)

 

[kreemi_pi]

COME WITH ME

Come with me
i can take you places
no one here can reach

Because i found
this magic special
thing
that lets me

Fly freely
fiercely flitting
flowing flirting
fucking

...amazing i just
hop from one
to the next

Come with me
My friend and i will show you
What i found this
Magic special

place for just you
and me full of

Love
Beauty
Magic
Excitenent

Oh won't you
Please please
Come with me ​

 

[DeMont]

Coffee and Pie

Soft skin the colour of coffee,
Entrances and captures my eye,
From the swell of luscious breast,
Smooth is the curve of your thigh.

Friends they all say are you blind,
She's not even one of your kind,
I cast them off, speak with acidity,
"You signed your name to stupidity!"

I watch as you move on the floor,
Dare I approach and ask you for more?
Could I even reach out and touch,
That LBD that entrances me so much?

Would that I could catch your eye,
Catch a smile maybe a glance sly.
Decision made, a deep breath caught,
And forward through the crowd fought.

So close to you now, I should bow,
I don't care who's watching us now.
If any others who wanted my courage,
They failed, they can take their rage.

Please say you are complimented,
So I won't feel humiliated, dejected,
I ask with all respect, not a bald lie,
May I join you for some satin cream pie?

 

[_Land]

Daddy's Cancer


He split oak in the backyard that September,
shirt stuck to his back,
each piece landing clean on the growing pile.
Sweat stung his eyes,
but he kept swinging,
breath steady, unbroken.

°

A week later he paused mid-bite at supper,
hand pressed to his ribs,
cornbread cooling on the plate untouched.
He shifted in his chair as if finding a position
that would let the ache settle,
the fork resting beside cold green beans.

°

At the clinic, the fluorescent hum never stopped.
He filled out the intake form slowly,
pen tapping the counter between lines.
The woman behind the desk asked him twice
to confirm his birthdate,
his voice rough as he answered.

°

In the exam room he sat upright,
shoulders pulled back,
jaw clenched each time the paper crinkled beneath him.
He watched the nurse wrap the cuff around his arm,
looked past her to the cabinet of sealed supplies,
eyes fixed on rows of untouched instruments.

°

The first scan showed a cloudy shadow.
He held the printout close to the window,
turning it to catch the light.
When the doctor spoke, he nodded once,
folded the paper into thirds,
slid it into his wallet without looking again.

°

By October the tremors started.
Coffee sloshed over the rim of his mug,
dark streak running down his sleeve.
He reached for the towel on the stove handle,
hands unsteady as he wiped the spill,
muttering that he just needed sleep.

°

The garage stayed half-cleaned for weeks.
A socket set sat open near the workbench,
wrenches scattered in the same places he left them.
Sawhorses leaned against the wall untouched.
Dust thickened on the table saw,
its switch frozen in the off position.

°

Some mornings he stayed on the edge of the bed,
elbows digging into his knees,
breath shallow and uneven.
The alarm clock blinked 7:14 again and again.
His boots waited beside him,
laces spread open, untouched.

°

Chemo changed the whole house.
Tubes coiled across blankets,
plastic crinkled with every shift of his weight.
He leaned over the bucket,
shoulders heaving until nothing came,
sweat gathered at his hairline.

°

By winter his jeans sagged on his frame.
He tightened the belt another notch,
fingers fumbling with the buckle.
His shirt hung loose around him,
fabric pooling where muscle used to be,
his breath loud in the quiet room.

°

Walking the hospital hallway drained him.
Each step dragged the IV pole forward,
wheels squeaking across the tile.
He gripped the railing with both hands,
pausing halfway as nurses hurried around him,
machines beeping at different rhythms.

°

The last night at home he asked for the window cracked.
Cold air slipped in and moved the curtains,
carrying the faint scent of damp earth.
He lay back as if each inch mattered,
eyes closing against the thin light of the lamp,
chest rising shallow, slower than before.

 

[_Land]

Alcoholic Impact

The bottle rolls under the seat,
thudding with each breath I take.
The air reeks of whiskey and burned rubber.
My head swims, but the road won’t stay still.

Red and blue lights fill the rearview,
flooding the cab,
catching the smear of blood on my knuckles.
I choke down the sour rise in my throat.

The car I hit sits crooked in the lane,
front end crushed into its own engine.
Its windshield split wide,
glass punched inward.
A body slumps in the passenger seat,
face turned toward the window,
eyes open to nothing.

Steam pours from their hood,
hissing against the night.
Someone yells for medics that won’t matter.
Boots pound pavement.
A door creaks open, slow,
the metal itself refusing the moment.

I grip my wheel until my hands go numb.
My foot stays locked on the brake.
The lights behind me pulse harder,
washing over the ruin in front of me,
and the bottle rolling at my feet.

 

[_Land]

Room With No Sound

°

The door stuck on the swollen frame
before it finally gave.
The apartment stank of sweat and old takeout.
A TV glowed against an empty couch.

°

He was on the floor by the coffee table,
back against the cabinet,
needle still in his arm.
His head tipped forward,
chin touching his chest.

°

His lips held no color.
A thin line of spit clung to his beard.
The syringe rolled once when I stepped closer,
tapping the hardwood
echoing my pulse.

°

His chest rose—barely.
A long, slow drag of air
that seemed to take the whole room with it.
I knelt and shook his shoulder.
Nothing.

°

The phone slipped in my hand
as I punched the numbers.
The dispatcher kept asking for the address.
I kept looking at his throat,
waiting for another rise.

°

The sirens arrived as a faint buzz,
then filled the hall.
Boots slammed up the stairs.
A paramedic pushed me aside,
checked his pulse,
called for Narcan.

°

I stood there,
floor sticky under my shoes,
his breath shallow as a thread,
waiting to see
if the room would move again.

 

[kreemi_pi]

DATE NIGHT

Friday finally falls
the night is mine
(or is it his?)
date night's finally here

My body yearns
for touch on skin
fingers slowly stroke
ecstatic lightning bolts

What to wear
it matters, yes
bare some skin
to preview his gift

Lingerie
think it through
pink or black or red
or virgin bridal white

Sheer or lacy
hug my curves
lead his fingers
where they please me most

My body weeps
it drips it flows
tear drops glisten
in between my thighs

How much longer
can I wait
he'll be here
any moment

Footsteps
doorbell rings
heart explodes
date night's finally here