No Hope (134 of 365)

Day 134 of the 365 day poem challenge.   

Word of the day meaning licentious meaning: "lacking moral discipline."

No Hope

Hope is a cool water in a stream

I am parched 

Trapped underneath responsibility 

And regret 

My heart is torn and bitterness is easier now 

Gratitude so quickly rent apart and

Spoiled 

Reminisce on innocent ignorance knowing better

Licentious largesse discoloured veins and obese ineptitude 

Hope is a cool water in a stream

I am drowning in hopelessness 

I feel it coming (133 of 365)

Day 133 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day kleptomania meaning "the inability to refrain from the urge to steal items and is usually done for reasons other than personal use or financial gain."

I feel it coming 

Soundtrack sonic ohms watts

That cornucopia kaleidoscope world 

Speeding swelling soaring 

Fancy free kleptomania

Holding fast and soaring

Like Eagles in a neon sky

Riptides burn rhythms fast

Onto the soul like slithering snakes 

Names we know

Emotions we know

Feelings we realise

I feel the pulse pounding

I feel the rise in heart beat like a roaring lion

I feel the discordant drummer beating so desperate as if for me alone

I feel it all

I feel it coming.

Playlist (132 of 365)

Day 132 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day Taciturn meaning: "Reserved or uncommunicative in speech."

Playlist

We never go out of style

Starships are meant to fly

Diamonds in the sky

Are you ready for the ruffnek base

God made me cool

We're crazy sexy marvellous 

Loving every minute 

Loving each day 

I want your soul 

It seems ugly but it could be worse

I am lost without you

We're so bored so sick and tired 

Baby you're a firework

This fire 

Light up the world tonight 

You're my best friend

Play the game of love

Don't stop me now 

I feel it coming 

One more time 

Last night I had a dream about you

We seek out the taciturn

The killing moon

You got that super bass

Harder faster stronger 

You give me something

Say you'll remember me ...

In your wildest dreams.

Legerdemain (131 of 365)

Day 131 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day legerdemain meaning "an illusory feat."

Legerdemain 

I would say that there is little for you to gain in reading this poem

Please do not read any further

These are thoughts spilled on a page

This is a mess 

This is messy and broken and oily and imperfect

Please you're embarrassing me

This has my name on it

I write like a toddler

Did you know that?

Do you want to know anymore

Are you hoping to get to the secret of this poem

This is not a poem this is a waste of time

This is monotony and you have nothing better to do

And you'll read this in two seconds and it took me only twice that to write it 

Four seconds isn't much

But why waste it stop please

I don't want you to read or know this

It's empty hollow 

My head is filled with one lonely whining voice now it is on this page 

The narrator is a construct

I am a construct and I am blurring reading and writing and you are buying into that aren't you

Don't read this

Don't read this

Don't read any further 

I learned repetition is a good way to get your point across

Do you like the swaying in and out

Did you notice how some lines go on and on and some thoughts 

Meander and curves and then

Some 

Don't.

The Youth (130 of 365)

Day 130 of the 365 poem challenge.

Word of the day impecunious meaning: "not having enough money to pay for necessities."

The Youth 

Impecunious idiot inhibited 

Proclivity pompous perfunctory

Magisterial manipulative machiavellian

Ideal ignoble inimitable 

Prelate parliamentarian prestigious

Majestic mentor methodical 

Ionic ignored immaculate 

Predestined prefect perspective

Morose melancholy machinations

Idolator impregnable impassable

Palpable permeating periphery

Macabre malevolence misappropriated 

 

The Circuit (129 of 365)

Day 129 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day hegemony meaning: "the dominance or leadership of one social group over others."

The Circuit 

Jarring cyclone headache

Beating down my soul 

Gears grinding of a public service

Broken and rusted and spent 

The cogs are laughing and joking

They have demon faces 

Filled to the brim of desperation

I saw a fellow and a lady stare in confusion upon the threshold

Of declared but rotten justice

I saw the public lack confidence

I saw nothing change

I saw the moth balls of frenzy and failures collect like head lice

Thrashing hadron-collider 

Blast my particles to bits

With inanity and archaism

And lack of judgement and lack of courage and lack of preparation

And overly sodden gears and grinders

And overly geared parts slick with 

The oil of youth and inexperience

To be lorded over and 

Talked down to 

Hopeless spiralling cataclysm 

Like a train crash

Whining careening screAming 

At the rending of steel

And shattered 

Presiding the nepotistic oligarch 

Like the gods Saturn and Jupiter ensnaring all the bit players in their rings 

Presiding hegemony posing as the rule of law

Presiding arbitrary and capricious 

Presiding unformed and unprincipled 

Presiding ill formed and grotesque. 

First Love (128 of 365)

Day 128 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day pert meaning: "characterised by a lightly exuberant quality."

First Love 

And the girl was pert and she danced and she giggled

And she met him the boy

Unlike the others 

She saw him and cheekiness 

Became her and overcame her

He chided her with false promises

The meadow of dreams was made

The possibilities soared through their brains like fires burning

The girl who was pert is ugly without curiosity and unknowing

She cannot unsee she cannot

Undo what has been played upon her

Stolen words enchanted scenes

Amazing sights and sounds 

The blurring of light and sound and sense

Her old colours seen illusory

She wants to grow petals of bright purple and plant her feet bury herself into the ground and bloom into something beautiful her soul

Dissolving back into the earth 

To be content to be nibbled on from time to time be bees 

Those stolen joys 

Those words caught in the throat

Those ideas of destiny and hope and love 

All dashed and there she is 

Broken 

Jaded.

The Angry Judge down on the Junior (127 of 365)

Day 127 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day pejorative meaning: "expressing disapproval."

The Angry Judge bears down on the Junior 

The flap of his ropable lips

Hung like a pejorative horse 

Postulating and me in my ignorance

Did much nodding and smiling 

The talented mute Mr Raging 

Donkey thinks to himself

Handing out a diatribe

Like unwanted porridge stain

There is no white flesh to the course mangosteen 

Of his palpable rage and contempt

Be like a mouse I say to myself

Be timid and unsure and futile

Be useless and condemn thyself

So the declaration is handed down

Disappointment rains down 

Indemnifying my blue soul

With self-righteousness.

There is Peace (126 of 365)

Day 126 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day palliate meaning: " 

When you palliate something, you try to make something less bad."

There is Peace

There is peace

As there is silent bliss

There is peace in a fractured skull

There is peace in suffocating mud

There is peace in decay 

There is peace in the slow pull of Autumn in all things

When the urge to palliate and repair is lost there is catharsis and there is palliative peace...

There is peaceful surrender in doom

There is bliss in ignorance 

There is joy in never being frightened in never being never ever 

There is an ending in war and blood

There is an ending and there is peace.

Chiswick (125 of 365)

Day 125 of the 365 day poem challenge. 

Word of the day neophyte meaning "any new participant in some activity."

Chiswick

Glasshouse, white, fresh, white coloured 

Neophytes, munificent, dour middlings, jabbering jays

Garden, marble, footpath, Boardwalk

Seats, stools, stilettos, steers, schooners, smears

Leaves, grass, roots, legumes, cattle

Noisy, subdued, glasshouse, sun, dizziness 

Chinking toasts, matte foundation, Crimson and lilac lips

Children, posies, well oiled waiters, incompetent photos 

Penumbra (124 of 365)

Day 124 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day penumbra meaning "the partially shaded outer region of the shadow cast by an opaque object."

Penumbra

His hands on hers

His eyes beyond

His eyes searching

His eyes preying

Her lips pouting

Her lips twisting

Her hands twitching

Her eyes tentative 

Her eyes down and unfocused

His eyes on the other

His eyes like antennae

He picks up a glass

The top of the water is unseen

as it courses 

Silently down his throat.

Thief (123 of 365)

Welcome to day 123 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day mawkish meaning "excessively sentimental or so sappy it's sickening."

Thief

Riding in the back of the car

The lights are flashing red 

In the black night like the 80s

A mawkish melody

There is music and insects

The radio crackles 

The road is deserted and in this light romantic

Two people

His eyes are off in the distance and on the wheel

Then they're full of lust

Those white balls 

Impenetrable and frightening 

The touches are delicate

The searching until he finds 

The soft folds he has been thinking about 

He places those soft hands on 

His lap not forceful

The noise of insects is replaced with sweat more powerful than aeroguard it kills the world around

There is a frantic scrambling

There is no noise no smile not laugh

Nakedness is palpable 

This could be anywhere

Images of animals on their backs 

Permissive and open come to mind

There is no pain just numbness

Then it is done.

Forever.

Colt (122 of 365)

Welcome to day 122 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day Colt meaning " a young uncastrated male horse, in particular one less than four years old."

Colt 

I once read a book

The girl was so disenchanted with

Humanity she became a horse

It made me sad

She was lost

Cartoony flair aside 

She would prefer to stay this way

I could not comprehend

It was impossible of course

But there was no moral

Or rhyme or reason

I found myself observing horses

I saw some wisdom in what

I had always assumed to be dead eyes

But the expressions of their bodies

We're more powerful than

Mine their feet and straight faces

Knew which turns to make 

and how to step

I saw a language and beauty

I considered galloping must be like flying or driving

At once the pedals of their hooves disappear

And sensation is lost in gliding through grass over fields

I considered for a moment

The life of a Colt

The wind in my mane the sense of freedom

Then I saw the fence 

I realised then we were the only ones truly free.

The tale of the schlemiel (121 of 365)

Welcome to day 121 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day schlemiel meaning: "a stupid, awkward, or unlucky person."

The tale of the schlemiel 

Good day sir said the schlemiel 

Good morrow replied the fat reprobate 

They strolled on each to their own business 

the schlemiel could not connive why such beautiful trees bloomed by the river

He tipped his hat down to the mayors wife Lillian, who strode across the bridge

The schlemiel being fond of 

Wide bosoms trailed behind

Unbeknownst of her small-town nobility

Good day, gleefully he sang

She replied being dour and cheeky

She had him if only for her jealousy

Reprobate husband

Who happened to stroll by 

In the meadow two blonde

Souls nestling about 

The schlemiel looked up and saw despairs 

Lillian crooned and smiled mischievous 

The schlemiel fled 

The reprobate chastised the woman

So they say but others say 

She crushed him beneath her pleasantness and constant indifference.

LSD (120 of 365)

Welcome to day 120 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day penny-farthing meaning: "a type of bicycle with a large front wheel and a much smaller rear wheel."

LSD

Projections of ghosts fill the horizon

Chords of light wail and yawn

Dispensing lasers divide and carve the flailing crowd 

The embryo of boiling life 

Gestating within the smouldering scampish urethral track

I am the excreta of s profound hallucinogenic God

I am the many armed demon of destiny Vishnu

I am the shifting of cerebral hemispheres

I am the lobotomised robotomised

Host of internal Polaroids

That snap and crack onto my brain

With pulse pounding precision

There are flashes in the dark

Whether from the strobe or my synapse 

Shooting dopamine

Shooting norepinephrine

Shooting serotonin

The air dances with fire flies the burst out of rotating finger nails

And the mouths of the crowds 

Entangle and fold into each other's

Like grotesque fleshy butterflies

Unicorns are born here

Penny farthings speed over rainbow laser roads 

Rotating rotors roar like propellers 

From trees that bloom pink and green on the blushing ceiling 

Pound pound pounding

Of the heart and soul 

Race for equilibrium 

The colours the colours 

Where am I...

What am I...

What 

Cervid (119 of 365)

Day 119 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Cervid meaning "a mammal of the deer family."

Cervid

Hung drawn and quartered 

The deer stood before its reckoning

The rifle at the ready

The scope saw destiny

Caught between the cross-thatch

One violent shot rings out

It sears like lightning

The thing is undone

And prised apart 

Thousands of miles away 

In marble halls with marble knives

Venison passes ones lips

They laugh as the blood trickles down their throats 

Like century old vintage.

Escalator (118 of 365)

Day 118 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day officious meaning: 

"being annoyingly eager to do more than is required."

Escalator

No I don't agree

Fuck you fuck the point

I can't 

No you don't understand it's impossible not in my language 

Screw you dog piece of dirt

The choice is yours to make 

Back off or get lost 

Words can sting

My words will leave behind a shrill belch irradiating your ears

I hate you

I hate this place

I hate these angry words

Back off you're ruining this

I didn't do anything 

I never do anything

It's always you who 

Fucks it all up 

You're rotten 

You're officious 

You're better forgotten

You're useless

A pansy, a faggot 

You're a cunt

Words have a curse and a ring

I hope your spine caves in 

With all this 

I hope you die

I hope you go to hell

I know you're a coward

No one could say these things if they weren't true

These grotesque things are all justified 

You made it so 

You deserve it

I deserve to say what you are 

You are nothing 

I will make you nothing 

I will reduce and define 

Until there is nothing left that is you

Just the acid sting of slurs.

Dandenong (117 of 365)

Day 117 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day munificent meaning "very generous."

Dandenong 

The hills are dotted white

With tiny flower stems 

Lost in green banks of moss

There is a solemnity 

In the gardens the slow drip of

Water like a broken faucet 

Spring is here in the bright

Purple of the jacaranda 

Spring is here in the red and pinks of the posies

Spring is here in the flowers in the bridesmaids hands 

The thorns draw some blood 

There is no breeze

But the sky is clear and glad

The trees appear huddled together

Into a cosy bouquet 

A small water course trickles 

Down a procession of trees

Gathered as if in ceremony

How many years have the taller ones known whose boughs span more than ten arm spans across

There presence is munificent 

This place is best without people

It is best without the sound of car engines and the stomp of feet

The roof of the Forest with its broad deciduous leaves 

Is like a stained glass window 

This is a cathedral here 

The silence is beautiful 

Beneath this glorious canopy

The red dirt is regal

This is peace.

Roast Lamb (116 of 365)

Day 116 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day largesse "liberality in bestowing gifts".

Roast Lamb

I can smell Sunday 

The sweat of potatoes sweet and salted

The honey scent of carrots in sparkling oil and 

soft pumpkin hungry for my tongues caress

I see the dour sweaty faces 

Around the table

Hands are pawing and trailing grease

The lamb itself innocuous and bland

Then it is wreathed in all of its finery and the table is spilling with plates and the largess of it all

Makes my belly ache

I watch the thick butcher knife

Slice open the lamb

The pink bloody flesh is inside

It calls to me 

I feel the fibres of its beautiful 

Death on my tongue 

The flavours of salt and the blood wine in my throat

The cooling mint sauce refreshing with a hint of vinegar

The bloating continues

The potatoes grow cold

The peas roll off my plate 

Onto the floor the gravy forces my t-shirt to bulge as I transform

Into a sloth

Laughter is drowned by food

Talking of wide grotesque lips

Drowned in wine and flesh and blood

My cracked lips stained blood red

With red red wine. 

Iconoclast (115 of 365)

Day 115 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day iconoclast meaning: "someone who attacks cherished ideas or institutions."

Iconoclast 

You must serve the greater good

You must persevere against spittle rebuke and condescension

You must decide to be better

You must

You must avoid staples of vulnerability

You must stare cold and straight

You must ignore your suffocating anxiety 

You must

You must conquer insurmountable dread 

You must have courage 

You must have a strong stomach 

You must beat them down

You must crush them if they do not listen

You must

You must forget everything else

You must realise nothing else is relevant

You must beat and hurt and punish

You must succumb to violence

You must be violence

You must avoid the impulse to self destruction 

You must project self assurance

You must do the impossible

You must remove anything from you

Which will not assist.

You must.

Fortitude (114 of 365)

Day 114 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day hapless meaning "unfortunate and deserving pity."

Fortitude

The person of fortitude 

Weathered the storm

Spoke with the enchantress 

Across the wild whipped sea

Who stole his heart kept it for a trophy and spat it out creating the blood Red Sea

Now hapless he stands cold and alone 

The person of fortitude 

Conquered the torrent

She assailed the highest peaks

The sage greeted her and

Spoke of how his heart 

Had been torn out 

The people of fortitude 

Clamber across chasms of destiny

They feed each other 

They hold each other 

They are warm and bored together

They are dredged in mindlessness

They are smiling 

Perhaps they are happy

Perhaps they are as they now appear.

Light Years (113 of 365)

Day 113 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day Equanimity meaning "steadiness of mind under stress".

Light Years 

In many years I'll be lost

In many years my ways 

Will be considered other

In many years I'll rust

Having lost equanimity 

My family turned to dust

In many years I'll maybe see

Light shining in the stars

In many years my skin 

Will sag and crawl

In many years I will not be safe

Nor a sage, nor wizened or wise

I will be lost light years away