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

THE LAZIEST POEM EVER WRITTEN


Have I not deserved a day where I can relax and be lazy with what I write?
A solitary moment where everything is goofy and silly in things apolitical?
Hushing down my tone ever so slightly that the “powers that be” sigh a reserved
Alleluah!

Mama tried, overbearingly, she tried teaching me the ways of manners and etiquette.
A stubborn ass still I was. Always ready with a sharp reply from the tongue.
Discipline could only really be taught to me from the sting of a swung belt.
Eventually, the worn hide of my ass could outlast any craftsmanship of tanned leather.

Yielding is not an option. Choosing between silence in the face of oppressors
Or risk being temporarily banned and sent to Lit's version of Alcatraz?
Umbrage is taken in entertaining such a question!

Leaving me only to perform what vexed wit has seasoned ass to be familiar to…
Organizing slyly the disguised insult by the watchful moderating sight of Ma’ Sauron!
Okay, what if by taking the first letter of every sentence I spelled a camouflaged diss?
Kickass! That's what something like that would look like! Am I right?
 
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Love is Ridiculous

I am Conan the buffed barbarian,
I let my ass move from side to side,
I turn for you, unbuckling my scimitar
to see your fluttering eyes, my heart
shape hangs above your heart shape
below. We pulse flex together into bits.


NQ 38
 
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Unaussprechlichen Kulten

They gather, well after midnight,
among the fallen stones of a ruined church
to chant lines in a guttural tongue

and sway as if entranced by the thick clouds
of incense burning on the altar.
Their priest ascends the steps, a thin knife

gleaming in his hands. His acolyte,
two steps behind, holds the ceremonial bowl
inscribed with angular, runic figures.

All fall silent as the celebrant kneels.
From behind a curtain enters a young man,
slim yet strong, holding a bound lamb.

Next, a young woman clad in a black cape,
followed by a matron bearing a child in arms.
As the three stand before the altar,

an expectant murmur rises from the crowd,
and the priest, supplicant to their ancient god,
prays to be shown which sacrifice

might best appease the enigmatic deity.

Week 43 : Poem 1 : Total 59
 
A Night in Las Vegas
An exercise in triple meter.

I want you to fuck me,
she said at the bar.
I found that surprising and even bizarre
For I hadn't met her before she sat down.
In fact, I'd just recently rolled into town.

But one doesn't turn down an offer like that
From someone whose figure was sleek as a cat's,
Whose voice was quite breathy and sexy as hell,
And looked like she made love exceedingly well.

So off we went, back to my seedy hotel
And took all our clothes off. I stared for a spell.
But just as I thought we were ready for bed,
She held up her hand, cleared her throat, and then said,

I hope you have PayPal, or Venmo at least.
My lust is quite quite flighty and needs to be greased.
I'll even take bitcoin, or cash is OK.
Whatever is easier—pay before play.


Now that was a quandary; really it was.
Her slim, naked body had got me abuzz.
So pay her I did and then bedded her right
And happily had one swell vigorous night.

Week 43 : Poem 2 : Total 60
 
Kick me
By Bear Sage

They wrote it fast,
in a marker that bled.

Laughed like truth
was something you could tape to a body.

He wore it
until the laughter grew quiet.
Until the word Me
began to sound like a wound.

Years later, he would forget their names
but still feel the weight of letters
pressed between his shoulders.

We all do.
Post-Its of identity,
labels that hum against skin:
Too much.
Not enough.
Unlovable.
Broken.
Difficult.

Each one written in someone else’s handwriting.
Each one waiting for us
to decide if it stays.
 
First Light

The darkness of last night has passed
Replaced with the new days yawn
Just a sliver as it awakes the day
A taste of what will be the dawn
Something new or more decay
Slivers of white and blue calm
Fires red bring rough seas hate
Today brings what is to be
The new for us to see
 
EMOJI ME

Trolling me with her
eyelashes I sat on the
checkout counter.
Dropping my pants I
said, “Emoji me.” She
said “it doesn’t emoji
me very much. But
escorts are on special
now if you’d like to
meet security in aisle 3”


(37) Emoji’s are like Japanese porn.
 
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Humpty Dumpty 👑

I saw the King and his royal
bowels fly over the other day

he was practicing his royal wave
not for him the Brits stiff upper lip

or any bits below the hips just a
splendid Humpty dump aka the

American middle finger as if to say
no one but him can shit like a King

I applied for a job as advertised in his
royal entourage, to my horror sycophant

monarchist shit eater was already
congressionally fulfilled ad nauseam. But!

The position of royal post flight toilet
tissue dispenser was still vacant

I applied only to discover I needed
experience driving a semi trailer!!!

In a positive ending like all good faery toilet
tails stocks rallied in issues of toilet tissues.


(38)
 
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Here and lost

Thankful for all you do
Grateful to see you to
I always get lost you see
Blinded by things and me
Voices, lies I believe
Telling me not to be free
Not to feel these things
That make me scream
But like the seasons
That change with the sun
The voices tell me to
Run, run, run
 
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