Inside my Headphones (19 of 365)

Welcome to day 19 of the 365 day poem challenge ! 

Phlegmatic meaning " (of a person) having an unemotional and stolidly calm disposition."

Inside my Headphones 

Lumbering melodies 

Tear in and out 

There's a whiteness and 

Delicacy to it

Sweet cacophonies 

Cactus in my ears

Staccato prancing 

The lines dipping 

The time signatures swooning

Sharps dipping down 

To embrace fidgety crochets

Phlegmatic minums

Take stride beside

The regal operatic soaring

Notes

Posture corrects 

And unwinds like Nuclear physics 

Random tastes of music

Ransom any rhythm

Melody takes over 

Whirring out of control

My ears pop

With the sting of it 

And the in contained beauty 

Fierce and strident 

Girl on the Beach (18 of 365)

Welcome to day 18 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Today's word is one I have used in the past, but one I have often had difficulty placing. 

It is chimerical meaning "1 : existing only as the product of unchecked imagination : fantastically visionary or improbable. 2 : given to fantastic schemes."

Girl on the Beach 

I am sure she exists

I saw her on holiday 

It was like a movie in a sense

She was there on the sand

I insist she was not some chimerical

Flight of fancy

She is probably different to you and I

Her eyes were what drew me in

However I was already stalking 

The nape of her neck

The roundness of her back

Tapering off below her waist 

She wore white, but I'm not one for detail

I could not tell you if it were a blouse and skirt, or perhaps a dress

The light played tricks on me

It got that sweet spot in the corner of her eye

Turned her pupils to flecked marbles

That was when she first turned

I saw her toes sink playfully into the sand

The heels sprung up

Her toes dipping down into the white sand 

I was reminded of an almond dipped deep into desiccated coconut

Where was I, you ask while all this unfolded

I cannot recall 

The moment was scintillating 

And disembodying

I know I shall not speak with her

She was not one to be alone

Not one prone to idyl fascination 

As I 

At the same time I had no desire to trap or contain her

The music that lived within her, in her mouth and her laughing eyes

I would not have wanted to reduce that in any sense

I let her be

free and dance on

Howling laughter 

Flaying her hands back cheeky

At the sun and moon.

 

Wynyard (17 of 365)

Day 17 and counting of the 365 days poem challenge.

Word of the day is flummox "perplex (someone) greatly; bewilder."

Wynyard

Chaotic maelstrom

Passengers disembark

Gargantuan flummox 

Navigating platforms underground

Desperate automatons

Swipe and go swipe and go

Proceeding this way and that

Down this dark corridor 

Down those dim stairs

Corrosive beams

Stand in worship of the rats

Who raise their snouts

The tunnel comes to light and rings thunder behind them.

Etymology of the Heart (16 of 365)

Hi all, 

Welcome to day 16. Well into week three of the poem a day for a year challenge.

Today's word Etymology meaning "the study of the origin of words and the way in which their meanings have changed throughout history."

Etymology of the Heart

Your smile floats on me

Like a leaf in a pool

On a rainy cloudless day 

Your lips bloom

Red and sultry up through

The soft wet mud 

Your skin though you would never say

Is like a beam of the finest and smoothest pine

There is a forest in you

That is a living room 

It holds me in a lounge chair embrace

Home is this touch

My hand touching yours

Our anatomy connected

Like a jigsaw

Our minds interweaving and producing this

Singular beauty. 

Metamorphosis (day 15 of 365)

Welcome to the third week of the poem challenge! We're up to day 15 of 365.

 

Word of the day is Saturnine meaning "gloomy", in olden times relating to "lead"

Metamorphosis 

While in a saturnine mood

I imagine I'm someone more

By this I mean someone worshipped

The dream catches on different ideas and images

Different stirrings 

But in them glamour descends upon me

It is a bitter drink to emerge back

Into the tar of reality

There's that roar in my chest

As my mind casts out

To the fantasy of absolute and

Irreversible metamorphosis

To cast aside the meanings carved into my skin, family and world 

(Is that freedom or eternal isolation)

Fear and anxiety is my rudder

It redirects my course away

From uncertain trajectories 

back to something

Calm and banal

But one day perhaps as I stand on

A jetty alone on a starlit night

Something marvellous might happen

Serendipity will visit me

The sort that stories and movies are made of

Before life started becoming to common

I shut my eyes and dream

And drift on waves that carry me

Away from that pier 

And I'm bursting

Forth from a cocoon 

I hardly know myself now

I am changed forever 

But I'm no caterpillar

My feet are anchored firm to the ground

That can only be a dream and a smile

A pleasant thought to recline in.

That is all.

Car Park (13 of 365)

Welcome to day 13 of the 365 day poem challenge I set myself. Just to remind all a poem every day and in every poem a word i don't know or to be frank don't understand.

The word of today is ballast, meaning "is material that is used to provide stability to a vehicle or structure."

I was inspired today to write about where I was, the...

Car Park

Suspended horizons and cascading bars

Gleaming fluorescent beams

Smudged concrete

Petrol fumes Echoes

 of choked 

Engines Cloying brown 

smeared air

Persons separated by glass

Separated by blood and glass and

The chassis and the frame and the wheel and the piston drone and the fan belt whirring and the blinkers blinking and the horns blaring 

Stone fortress guarding

Nothing special

Ballast and bastion

Cloudless black

Lost and confused

Directionless pathless

Labyrinthine inhospitable desert

Barren grey

The Lecture (12 of 365)

Welcome all to day 12 of the challenge I've set myself to post a poem every day for the remainder of the year and to include a new and unfamiliar word each time.

Word of the day facetious meaning "treating serious issues with deliberately inappropriate humour; flippant"

The Lecture 

 The facetious youth sat in back 

His tongue hanging low 

All the while his eyes on the teachers rack 

The youth in an attempt at allure

Bided his time taking notes

Calculating whether he might be her cure

What might she do when not so tightly bound

He pondered this in her hand white chalk

But his imagination was filled with less innocent sound

He sat erect leaning forward

Hoping she may notice

Yet as she scrawled his thoughts remained as always untoward  

He licked his lip

She raised a brow

His eyes practically trip

Now he with a knowing blush

She offers a grin

She tells him not to rush

But to pack his things up

History is across the hall 

The youth turns red rises up

After all that mooning 

He's out the door off for study 

No more time for swooning.