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

[Angeline]

Triolet

My children carry ancient lands
My children carry Spain
I come to you with empty hands
My children carry ancient lands
Of palm and date, of rolling sands
Where I have buried ancient pain
My children carry ancient lands
My children carry Spain



Week 2, Poem 2, Total 3

 

[butters]

*week 3, poem 1, total poems 3*


death of a wheelbarrow

As we stand here
over the pale grey bones
of the ancient barrow—
its lone, new wheel incongruent
out of place as a chrome hip replacement
amidst the remains of a weathered skeleton
discovered in the woods—
let us celebrate its days
rather than rue its loss:

it's served decades on the farm
steered and worn by many hands
its tray a uniform, dull ox-blood
grown thin and pitted
repairs eaten through
bolts no longer marrying it
to its frame.

Uncomplaining, always reliable
it withstood every element
ready to move logs or hay
feed sacks or autumn's leafy bounty
though as years wore on
users steadily adjusted
to its decreasing mobility.

It limped so bad this past year
but still took on the tasks
till its very last
when a sideswipe from the old truck
left it lying like a dead dog on a verge—
resuscitation not an option.

And yet—even in death—
a part of this trusty warrior lives on:
its shell placed downside up
over a hay-filled dip by the wall
and covered with a waterproof mat
providing, still, a service
for little critters in need of a warm bed
on a cold night.

*raises a beer*

 

[SpermFactory]

Bare back Rodeo

Heart throbs,
head hurts,

flip a bird out of
my truck window

trapped in my mind
I look at you

I see another rodeo
in my mirror and

you, another her
a younger me

my years spent in
emptied condoms

my love wasted
in empty packets.

Wk 3, poem 1, Total 3

 

[Angeline]

Mysterious Disappearing Fib

Oh
jazz
poem where
have you gone?
We were on Lenox
Avenue waiting on the hop
when you disappeared
with my muse.
Now I
must
stop.


Week 3, Poem 1, Total 4

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

Excuses Excuses

Moored beneath the pillowing
clouds the dripping rain
locked in the shuck shuck
of my wiper blades

I ascend the heavens

in a day dream,
I am badass Freyja
hauling ass
in a V8 chariot

In glistening pink

a whip cracking blaze
underneath my dress
a buzzing ripening
the sun rises blushing

the claimer of my hot skin

my leg intwines in a
withering clutch sweet
welding metal foot, pedal,
Accelerator!

In a trumpeting blast of horns

I crumple in a whump

back to earth
in a horny fender bender
I am that horny house wife
that snarling Valkyrie who had a

(peak) accident.

Wk3, poem 1 total 4

 

[Tzara]

Exposure

The sky—clear, blue,
oddly cloudless,
leaving the city

exposed to invading
aliens or God
should He choose

to smite us all.
Can one wonder
why I lurk inside,

curtains closed
on my isolation,
nosed into a book?

Week 3 : Poem 1 : Total 3

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

Tribbing
Swirling traffic
in hot intersection
women


Wk 4 poem 1 total 5

 

[Bn2f]

ONE YEAR IT'S BEEN​

my dear husband
i miss you so much
time attempts to test
the metal of my resolve
with rust
saved texts, zoom calls
and such
only serve as a fleeting
reminding crutch
of just how i miss your kiss
dark skin on mine
writhing, rubbing, kind
grinding feel of your touch
maneuvering my way through
granite trees
i follow the sound bouncing
off the branches and leaves
to a clearing
where sits a devoted piano
echoing
one
simple
monotone
note:
come
come
come
come
oh, my dear husband
it's been one whole year
circumstances have, i fear,
steered us further apart
than near
if you can’t be by me
i'll run through the oceans
bordering hell and heaven's skies
fighting the aging of given youth
my determined soul
committed on this path
to one sun's final set
Come
rest aligned with you

 

[Tzara]

Prisoner's Dilemma

You only win if you give up your lover
while she remains true. This isn't fair,
but nothing is ever fair in life,

especially in the trauma that is love.
Of course, if she gives you up, you both pay.
But then we are all guilty of something.

Week 4 : Poem 1 : Total 4

 

[SpermFactory]

A long emptied heart

is a devoid space

inhabited by motes

floating like soup

the pictured separations

become


separation



then I breathe in again


drinking in the air


still living somewhere


inside of me


I find the gift of you.


Week 4 : Poem 1 : Total 4

 

[LustyScribe]

The Asylum at 80mph
Every damn morning I must merge,
Thread the needle of the nightmare,
Avoiding the ever-present primal urge
To engage the impatient patients there.

They drive bumpers to rumps
They almost bump when one pumps
Their BRAKES! and takes the bet
That the other will finally get
The hint, and back away
and hopefully, sanely stay;
But we all know they don't;
Not they can't, they won't.

Redneck Rob in the big black truck,
Window stickers, Nascar and bucks
Is he late for work again today?
Or is it just a game he plays?

Karen's surely not caring
How others' safety's faring
Her Benz poses as her pass
To drive crazily close and fast.

And could we please medicate
The FedEx driver running late,
Who's forty tons of Prime
Rides my rear all the time?

Every morning, I enter the ward
Like the others, rolling toward,
What we hope is release,
Some futile pursuit of peace.

But here he comes, riding rears
The daily lunatic appears!
I take a glance recognize;
He has my face, has my eyes.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

my, such stupid word
everything temporary
in the end, betrayed

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

Discovery

stretching like a cat in a denim mini dress
slinking into the room outback

My french plait a blond waterfall
unraveling naked fears evaporated

fur tickling, you purr in my ears
mouth warmth lithe imprint



Week 4 : Poem 1 : Total 6

 

[Bn2f]

Lessons In Love


When I was the age of 4
I went to bed excited
With anticipation at the forecasted snow.
Awakened, I was in awe
At the amount of beauty
Caused by the gathering of 1 little flake.
Bundled for the cold,
I rushed outside happily
And immediately a snowball
Found its way
Dead to the center of my smiling face.
It was then that I learned
There’s a time and a place
For the things you love
To be embraced.

Finding a stray animal on the street
Always was I compelled to bring home
Wash and clean and find food to feed.
Mama would caution me
Not to keep
Or have feelings become attached.
Upon begging her to no end
I once got Mama to agree to one:
A scruffy, runt of cuddly fur
This tabby was going to be my cat.
That’s when I realized
The one-way giving of fond love
Can leave one open
To be biten, bloodied,
And deeply scratched.

You stand before me
Claiming now is the time for our love.
Promising the above high heavens.
But I don’t know
If I can go forward.
I have learned hard lessons.

 

[Angeline]

Strange Days Indeed

Inocence:
John and Yoko waltzing
down Bleeker Street. Andy
nearby with his shock
of white hair, camera in hand,

Fred Astaire gallant, debonair
his easy smile, and John whispers
into Dick Cavett's ear.

They're playing the whisper game.
In time meanings will change
and defy original intent
or simply become nonsense.

Outcomes change the world
like wind rushes seasons past.
Decades zoom by until memories
survive as ghosts. Later John
will shoot baskets with Miles.

Innocence seen through today's
broken lens. Innocence.


Week 4, Poem 1, Total 5

 

[LustyScribe]

Lonely and Unalone
Here I sit, lonely but not alone
She, flirting with her phone,
Even I forget I'm here.

She used to ask, used to care,
Used to seem to want me there,
Want to know what I held dear.

"Your language of love is touch?
Then you will hear it much!"
She promised, but then time...

Over months and crawling years
She grew silent; I grew just tears.
A hug, a kiss, perhaps a held hand.

I spoke to her in her chosen way,
Gifts and acts to brighten her day,
My repertoire, I'd ever expand.

Then one day, I heard the quiet;
Didn’t realize I had stood by it
For years; When did passion leave?

It's not she didn't know; impossible!
But when did it get so permissible
To let it die? Didn't she grieve?

'It's not my tongue, Touch;
I don't care to speak it much."
And with that, it was no more.

So here I sit, untouched and cold,
Alone with her 'til my days are old
Wondering what I waited for.

Week 4, poem 2, total 2.

 

[D_K_Moon]

Forbidden Whispers

My finger,
Is my pen,
Your back,
My paper,
I'll write,
Words,
Of passion,
And lust,
My desire,
Words to excite,
Arouse,
Secret words
Forbidden whispers,
Used only at night,
In the dark,
When hunger,
At its zenith.

 

[Remec]

Winter Tragedy

Muddy puddle lies
in the yard, only buttons
and a carrot show why.

Week 5 Poem 1 Total 3

 

[LustyScribe]

Marital Seduction
Slowly and slyly she slides them down
Past silky thighs, then her knees,
Over strappy heels, finally aground;
Hands them boldly over to me.

She never even looked about
To see who might be spying
Our waiter tries to figure out
The spectacle he's been eyeing.

I want to match her bold with bold;
Lift them up and smell her scent
I see her blush as they unfold;
They're wet where her desire went.

Just before the desserts arrive,
I pocket them to her relief.
Though I must say she's quite alive;
She's trembling like a leaf.

Four decades now, we're a pair
I'm old and bald, soft and round
But my beauty queen's still fair
Though biased I may sound.

The secret? Never cease the play,
The flirt, the hunt, the little game
Be the knight that saves her day,
Be his sexy, slutty, elegant dame.

Week 4, poem 3, total 3

 

[LustyScribe]

A How to Haiku
"Dad, how did you know?"
My son asked. I replied thus:
"When I drowned in her."

Week 5, poem 1, total 4

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

A crack in an old path

Outside of, my childhood home
there opened a crack in the path,

a possible gap my grandpa said
separating the good which was

and that which could be
my good future past.

To late in outstretched toes
and sun bedazzled limbs

those innocent years ran out when
I skipped and stepped past my grandpa

over that crack in the path of innocence
past along the road.

Wk 5 poem 1 Total 7

 

[Tzara]

The Poet's Inspiration, Always Weak,
Begins to Flag, Yet He Doggedly Perseveres

One poem a week? It seemed so easy,
I promptly signed up to compete.
It's now week five. I'm feeling queasy.
It seems damn hard now to complete
One simple poem with limply rhyming
Lines that quail of love and sighing,
Of frantic sex against a wall,
Or, often, nothing much at all.
But forge ahead! Here's this week's ditty—
A self-indulgent tale of woe.
(One authored by one rather slow;
It could be written by committee.)
Another week, another verse.
Dear readers, feel quite free to curse.

Week 5 : Poem 1 : Total 5

 

[D_K_Moon]

At Midnight

He dances alone,
At midnight,
In the moonlight,
To music only he can hear,
And words even he doesn't understand.

In a faraway place,
The mandolin and flute sing,
Of times past,
And those to come,
He dances at midnight,
With a tear in his eye.

 

[Bn2f]

SUGAR WATER REFLECTION (Cibo Matto)​

YOU!
KILLED!
ME!
Had now that
Self-defense
Motive reversed
And
Accidentally
Crossed fates
Around turned
Instead
Instead
Turn around
Fates crossing
Accidentally
And
Reverse motive,
Defending self,
That now has
ME!
KILLING!
YOU!

 

[Angeline]

Terzanelle

America where have you gone
You're lost and I can't find you
America where have you gone

Streets remain; same old view
But nothing is as it once was
You're lost and I can't find you

I want to place a hold, a pause
For changes that unmade you
But nothing is as it once was

Skies feel empty, gray not blue
Ask Mickey Mouse or George Gershwin
For changes that unmade you

Be undone. My time is thin
I only want a safe world for my daughter
Ask Mickey Mouse or George Gershwin

Please save us from this slaughter
I only want a safe world for my daughter
America where have you gone
America where have you gone


Week 5, Poem 1, Total 6