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Tuesday, 27 September 2016

Lap of Tenderness (57 of 365)

Day 57 of the 365 poem challenge.

Word of the day persiflage meaning  "frivolous light hearted talk"

Lap of tenderness

And I never understood how she could see anything in me the way her hair was and the way her hand rested on my lap I'd never known such feelings our easy persiflage our easy way our togetherness and yet there was an absence of tenderness and an element of fantasy was it that she wanted me to be or that I wanted her to be an answer to my quandary on that moment this moment this electricity charged moment where her lips are thick with the candy of her cadence and my eyes are charged and an energy vibrates in me and this is ours and she and I will be something more as though this is my creative passion she is that and more to me

You stare at me and possess me like a thing possessed I can imagine you sitting grotesque in my lap and your tongue is like a dogs and it laps and it sticks onto me with pornographic intent you dream of me in some phantasmagoria as though I were yours and you mine and that I was somehow undiscoverable and unknowable use synonyms use exotic wild untamed use names and words for me pretend that it's not my labia you want to bury and meld with pretend and dream of lies where we are happy and I laugh and its in slow motion and my lips are fat with music and harmony do not confuse contempt for lust.

Hymn from an Atheist (56 of 365)

Day 56 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day intercession meaning "the action of intervening on behalf of another, or the action of saying a prayer on behalf of another."

Hymn from an Atheist 

There is no hope turn back
There is no justice here 
There is profit only to be reaped in suffering 

There is no regard 
There is no censure of abhorrence 
There is no protection from doom and tragedy

There is no elegy
There is no respite 
There is no absolution and consolation 

There is no one that hears your prayers
There is no guiding light
There is no path
There is no way 

There is no good, just as there is no bad
There is no monotony just cacophony
There is no harmony only chaos

There is no end
There is no stopping 
There is no humble supplication for forbearance or intercession 

There is no parable
There is no guardian
There is no guide 
There is no messenger.



Saturday, 24 September 2016

White (55 of 365)

Day 55 of the 366 day poem challenge.

Word of the day jingoist meaning: "Jingoism is an extreme form of patriotism that often calls for violence towards foreigners and foreign countries. Patriotism — a love for one's country — can, in certain cases, turn nasty and go beyond wishing for the welfare of one's own homeland."

White 

This is the jumping off point
The last fact to drop
Your inequality is my joy
Your failures are my success
I am a jingoist 
My contempt is invisible
But carries its name in my thick 
Expensive boots
This is my rebellion to grasp
Onto the unloose-able
To strangle strength from weakness
The bitterness in my chest
Is the thought of equilibrium
The scales must remain as 
They are and I am on the top of
The see-saw and my language is 
The only language
My words are your words now
My world is the only world
There is no other possibility
You are trapped
You are a caged animal in my zoo
Safe and behind bars
You emit a stench 
I turn my nose at you
I turn my eyes away from you
I turn my ears away from you
You are scum
Give me your money
Give me your soul
Let me have your heart
Let me eat your food
Let me consume you 
Let me never understand you
You shall be mute 
Eternity is mine
Religion is mine
The only God is my god
Worship me 
The law is mine and its word is 
My word 
Welcome to hell 
Welcome to denigration and vilification
Welcome to denial 
You are an alien
I am a parasite 
There is no charity but you will never see
You will never see my invisible contempt
You will never know me
You will never understand me
You stand in your ghetto and
I'll stand in mine.

Morning Mitosis (54 of 365)

Day 54 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day mitosis meaning: "a nuclear division plus cytokinesis, and produces two identical daughter cells during prophase, prometaphase, metaphase, anaphase, and telophase."

Morning Mitosis 

My tired old face and my mirror 
And My tired old face...

And face wash and moisturiser and herbal oil and foundation and deodorant and blush and eye shadow and pastel and pencil and mascara and lipstick...

And stockings or no socks and bra or sports bra and clips or no clips and lace or no lace and underwear and skirt or dress or top and buttons or no buttons and lace or no lace and zipper or no zipper no socks and flats or heels or wedges or sneakers then heels...

And Toast or muffins or crumpets or cereal and coffee or tea and camomile or earl grey or English breakfast and black or milk or sugar or milk and sugar...

And Walk and trudge and meander and amble and train or bus or car or car and train and bus and park or walk...

and sit 
and sit 
and sit 
and sit 
and look 
and sit.

Friday, 23 September 2016

Lust (53 of 365)

Day 53 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day avidity meaning "keen interest or enthusiasm".

Lust

Taken over 
Distracted inert 
Absent avidity 
Fantasy unattainable 

Depression sinking 
Eyes shut mind wide
Lucid orgasmic dreaming

Reality distraction
Extract imagination 
Impossible feeling

Pleasure forbidden 
Release all consuming
Apathetic 

Poetry absent from poem
Pornography brain
Rewired robbed retired.

Thursday, 22 September 2016

The birds and the bees (52 of 365)

Day 52 of the 365 day poem challenge.
  1. Word of the day Propolis: a red or brown resinous substance collected by honeybees from tree buds, used by them to fill crevices and to fix and varnish honeycombs.

The birds and the bees 

In fear of the absent propolis
And Ejaculation of waspish
Whims 

I traversed the honeycomb
And kissed the Queens and workers
Too

The stripes are absinthe to me
And toxic perfume escapes only to be
Stung





Mamalian (51 of 366)

Day 51 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day mammalian meaning "Any of various warm- blooded vertebrate animals"

Mammalian 

We breath 
We eat
We lie
Our lungs expand and shift 
Under the weight of souls
They are poorly fitted to these
Forms 
Why so easily tethered
Why not free
Why so restricted to the patterns
Of the earth and seasons 
When we now touch the sky
And write worlds 
Worlds of such wonder
And we have created magic
But are forever impotent to use it
Finally our skins sag away
Like snakes we scuttle off
Into the ground 
And we are wet logs
Awaiting the grand exhalation 
Of the dying earth.