Ice (141 of 365)

Day 141 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day Hibernal meaning: "of, characteristic of, or occurring in winter."

Ice 

Red and blue tones in the dark

hibernal reflected in tall spindly skeleton pines 

Their fingers gnarled and stiff

The dark night whistles by them

Makes them into an army 

Of silent soldiers 

Wailing and praying for release

     

The trees are oppressive 

They rise from the icy bluff

They have canals 

Their long narrow stretches that

The ice penetrates and turns to rock

The tall proud rooks

The wise sentinels presiding over the frost scape

The ice makes caves in the darkness

Invisible crevices below their hard surface the bark tears apart

Hesitating burning for release

All the while fighting 

The intolerable ice.

Boy sees Girl (140 of 365)

Day 140 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day mitochondria meaning: "an organelle found in large numbers in most cells, in which the biochemical processes of respiration and energy production occur. It has a double membrane, the inner part being folded inwards to form layers (cristae)."


Boy sees Girl 

You had me like a Hadron Collider

I cobbled together my microbes

Spilled like gum balls over the cold

Dark floor 

You had me knocked off of my feet and dried up like a sponge in a centrifuge 

You make my atoms fission and burst into a beautiful mushroom cloud

You shot my guts mitochondria 

Out to space with your Hubble telescopic eyes dissecting my emotional mildew 

You got me jacked up on nitroglycerin ripping open my chest like an Antarctic shard 

You trapped me in my own penumbra looking out and refracting my personality removing the Gestalt 

You camped inside my cerebellum tipping me into a frenzied Id diving down my brain stem 

You consolidate your hold upon my left and right ventricles the blood gushing in my arteries is yours the hiss and moping of my organs is yours 

The slow Torture of Love (139 of 365)

Welcome to day 139 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day pellucid meaning: "transparently clear; easily understandable."

The slow torture of love 

I gave in to the slow torture of love 

Relenting was the best part

To know I could never have her

To know I knew the secret of seductive smiles

The realm of adventure and excitement

All in a parallel universe somewhere decompressed

I gave in to desire but failed to achieve that which I desired 

Tantalising myself by laying on a knife edge so near to the forbidden dream

Was enough for my sensibilities 

Poetry of two bodies sensing each curve of the brow each supple bead of sweat threading the needle of my bright shining eyes

I gave in to the slow torture of love

It was more and too much and not enough 

It undid me and the play was ended and with it the banality entered and then I gave in to the slow torment of fading love and slow tender pellucid kisses 

Circling the Drain (138 of 365)

Day 138 of the 365 day poem challenge. 

Word of the day nadir meaning: "the lowest point of something"

Circling the Drain

I pondered all that I had not achieved and a gulf opened up that was wider than the farthest reaches of  a seesaw

I felt myself sagging downwards and waiting for the euphoria of being yanked upwards the rude shock the kind slap of reality 

But I was eternally weighted down

I sank down onto the ocean flour and it was phantasmagoric with giant shadows swimming unseen 

And my life was a curtain with phantasms playing and dancing upon it and myself circling a vast drain 

Now dribbling 

Now dribbling out of me 

Making me into a wretched strangled thing 

A skeleton upon which to hang my gelatinous Winter sale collection flesh 

And the sky was the dull blue of concrete 

The concrete of the ocean floor as and its eternal metamorphosis into a desert abyss that only pales beside the dry sore 

Aching in my heart 

...the nadir 

Drip drip drip 

GurlZ (137 of 365)

Day 137 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day salubrious meaning " (of a place) pleasant; not run-down"

GurlZ 

Lucille wandered vagabond throughout the dim streets and in the fondest fever dreams of her ex-dope head man standing vagrant in a pool of his own self-pity and summer chitin 

A hallucination strides down through smoke streams and the heat is unbearable and the smoke is soothing and the greenery is palpable I could lick it with my tongue 

Savannah screwed Uncle Sam by the bones that is to say got herself a hot pocket Oval Office smeared in the graffiti of her life kittens and other ill fitted reptiles all hanging chords down into her soul waiting for the seams on her spine to unbuckle and the fluff to spill out 

Petra has a name good enough to touch there are eyes in her eyes that feel up her self sacrifice and confidence that bears upon the pebble walk in those flip flops they undulate the way waves ought to teasing and cracking like fireworks and hot jazz that no one ever dreamed or wanted 

Joe the grease monkey twerks open the hosing in the salubrious manse her yokel wrenches fall fast and quick the client is waiting and painting upon her with demands and requests and desires for his hose plumbing 

Pickling (136 of 365)

Day 136 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day Licentious meaning "lacking moral discipline."

Pickling 

Sour sharp tang

Soulful and thick sinuous

Tantalising oozing with smack in the face characteristics

The bristle and pop of mustard

The curly tendrils of onion

The intermingling in this rancid swamp of decadent gastronomy

We made this world 

You and your licentious candour

Me and my febrile shaft. 

Epoch (135 of 365)

Day 135 of the 365 day poem challenge.

Word of the day Morass meaning "a soft wet area of low-lying land that sinks underfoot."

Epoch 

The times are rough and

Sink into morass

The times are bland 

The times are urbane and mad

And insane

The times are changing never and always 

The times are rumbling your cage

And are as labyrinthine as a hedge maze 

The times are stuck 

staccato bug thwap

The times are coming unstuck

Diffuse like nomads 

Time is Drifting 

Thorny the times are 

Unforgiving the time is 

The times are irrelevant 

The times are iridescent and clandestine and jovial and sour and 

Ruined 

The times are lost and wandering

And gathering chrome and glitter and touch screens and vapid

Admirers and vapid unworn shining humanity 

These are the times.