Author Topic: 30:30 - Poem #1  (Read 20710 times)

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Offline Soft Words

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30:30 - Poem #1
« on: December 02, 2008, 01:16 AM »
Because I'm addicted to words, and because my muse is sulking in the corner (thank you NaNoWriMo). A poem a day, no other rules. I'm trying to make it easy on myself, this is my first ever 30:30. Please be kind!

#1: PCOS

Reach within me
and find the virgin womb
that has borne no child;
fill that void with yearning
and make me bleed.

And cry.
A cycle with a love-hate connotation,
kick-start the rollercoaster. Please.

My ovaries are swollen,
too eager with new life.
Ah, my child, you must wait
to be born before you blow
bubbles
and fill them with kisses.


I wish I could draw up
the silence from vials
calibrated by the sound
of lonely drops of blood
unwillingly staining my legs
and inject it into the bubbles
that hold on
to kisses I have yet to feel.

Life isn't about waiting for the storms to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Offline Mystic1

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #1
« Reply #1 on: December 02, 2008, 02:11 AM »
Though it's full of angst and melancholy, there lies an eagerness that pulls me in. G.
I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not for our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex.

Offline Soft Words

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #2
« Reply #2 on: December 02, 2008, 11:54 PM »
I don't know why I'm obsessed with mirrors of late. This is a form called a palindrome.


Mirrors show silences,
dripping eaves like eyelashes,
snow melting, disappearing
forming water.
Souls are similar,
dissolving personalities
in nothingness.
~Show me~
nothingness in
personalities dissolving,
similar are souls.
Water forming,
disappearing, melting snow,
eyelashes like eaves dripping,
silences show mirrors.


 :poet
Life isn't about waiting for the storms to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Offline nixon

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #1
« Reply #3 on: December 03, 2008, 05:20 AM »
Hi Arti,

I love the rhythm in this piece, how it sounds when I read it aloud, even with my head cold.  I especially love these images

Water forming,
disappearing, melting snow,
eyelashes like eaves dripping,
silences show mirrors


sending you a very big hug, congratulations on NaNoWri!! 

:) brenda
In loving Memory
Justin Michael Owen
1987-2004
Only the good die young

Offline Kay

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #1
« Reply #4 on: December 03, 2008, 08:41 AM »
Arti,



wow. That's neat. Words swimming in your head by now?
Way to go!  :wine

Offline Soft Words

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #3
« Reply #5 on: December 04, 2008, 12:50 AM »
It is still 11:50 pm where I live. Yessir. Central time ftw.

Brenda, me lovey.

Kay, yes, palindromes are interesting, but can be incredibly frustrating. I was surprised I was ready to post that one in a single day.

Today's pome - More mirrors. Anyone sick of mirrors yet? I don't think I have the energy to care.

Sparkling clean on the wall,
a reflection of yourself
in a piece of glass tacked there
for ages.

Strange that something so familiar
and yet inanimate
must command so complete a terror.

Am I too fat, too thin?
Does this color look good on me?
Can anyone else see this pimple?
Oh no I forgot to shave my chin.
My ass looks fat in this skirt
and by the way, I have hairy legs too.
Just in case you were wondering.


Does the mirror have the wisdom
of its age, the ability
to help me bury the past?

Remember that time
you had way too much fun
pretending to fall off a cliff?
No?
Well, just look at your left ankle.

Remember that time
when you were in the doctor’s office
because you simply didn’t gain weight
for two years
and your “friends” teased you
that you looked like a broomstick?
Well, you can show them
the stretch marks now.

Remember that time
you were going out on a date
with that high school hottie
and  used too much make up?
Eeeks. Even I don’t like
to think about it.

 
The mirror can only show the past
or the present. It has nothing to do
with the future.

Life isn't about waiting for the storms to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Offline champagne_shoes

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #1
« Reply #6 on: December 04, 2008, 04:43 AM »
your final strophe snags my attention. the distortion of perception is a theme that intrigues. I rearranged your words because they teased me to do so:

the mirror can only show the past
or the future. It has nothing to do
with the present.
"A community of poets is like a community of cats." joey

Offline Mystic1

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #1
« Reply #7 on: December 04, 2008, 05:23 AM »
I love the idea of mirrors...reflections.. .distortions.

eternity
refracted
a single tear
I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not for our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex.

Offline nixon

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #1
« Reply #8 on: December 04, 2008, 06:07 PM »
Arti Jo,

 I myself avoid mirrors like the plague, because like you on the inside I am the questioning child, and the outside shows a middle aged woman.  Not to mention I have a few gray hairs and am couple sized larger than I would want to be, I love how the poem explores the realtionship of self.

Strange that something so familiar
and yet inanimate
must command so complete a terror.

These lines resound for me. 

hugs

:) brenda
In loving Memory
Justin Michael Owen
1987-2004
Only the good die young

Offline Soft Words

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #4
« Reply #9 on: December 04, 2008, 11:08 PM »
c_s, I love what you've created with my words. I changed it on my copy - I'm going to leave it the way it is on here.

G, :) me lovey the minima. (yeah, thats my new term.)

nixie, this 30:30 is making me reach deep within myself to find the words. It might not have been a good idea to do this so soon after NaNo, but I'm going to do this. Every good.

Here's today's poem. :) It even has a title.

Spawning Visions

Invention. Blessing.
Curse. 


Dreams
are prolific breeders,
like rabbits,
one rising off the other,
sprouting within seconds
in random offshoots.
 
Annihilation.
Dissolution. Chaos.


They all start out
as someone’s dream
to take over the world.
Religion was probably
someone else’s dream
to save it.

Prophetic.
Forgotten.


Do dreams fall in love
with one another
or do they interrupt one another,
taking one another’s place
at the dinner table,
an incestuous (not little) group
trying to take over the world?

Regular, bright,
I’m-on-the-other-side-of-the-glass-ceiling.
Life isn't about waiting for the storms to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Offline Soft Words

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #5
« Reply #10 on: December 06, 2008, 12:48 AM »
It is 11.44 pm here. Thank you, Central Time.
This one is about the recent attacks on my hometown.


My fortress has been breached.[/u]

Light the purple fires,
ring out the clarion call
for the guards
who have never worn
armor.

Speeches tall
in pixie dust words;
reflections, mirages
preplanned
in hazy hashish smoke.

Rivers of blood
feeding fires
in mansions of warmth
and welcome.

The night is wholesome
no more,
just a tired whore
with a golden heart
and mantle
that offers shelter to all.
She orgasmed,
her legs pulled apart,
wondering,

"Should I have asked them
to use condoms?"
Life isn't about waiting for the storms to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Offline Soft Words

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #6
« Reply #11 on: December 06, 2008, 09:22 PM »
I've been homesick this past week. I went to bed last night, woke up at 4 am and cried for no reason. I couldn't tell why.
Today, I stole hugs and kisses from the two-year old, cuddled with her while she napped. Still, I'm hurting.
I want this to be over, I want to go home. Scratch that - I want to be home.

Not my best ever piece of work, but I can do no better today.


Lights sparkle, fiery and hazy
in lukewarm water jets
pounding my numb skin.
A taste of being almost home.

Back when I was little
and a bath
involved
me and one of my parents,
in a bathroom
filled
with bright plastic buckets,
I'd close my eyes
and enjoy the feel of water
pouring over my face,
warm and caressing.

I didn't know then
what it meant -
I am just beginning
to understand the real meaning
of home.

When the simple sensation
of water coursing down my face
and washing away tears
feels like a caress from all those years ago.

When I can almost smell
the flavors
in my mother's kitchen -
fresh coriander,
tamarind,
freshly-grated tender coconut
for festivals
I can no longer track.

When I dance on the edge
baring my heart
for strangers to read,
trying to find a niche
I can hide in.

When all I want is my freedom
and a kiss, maybe a hug -
so badly that it almost hurts.
Life isn't about waiting for the storms to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Offline Soft Words

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #7
« Reply #12 on: December 08, 2008, 12:53 AM »
It is 11:52 pm here. Yay Central time.



Cusps and cliffs are alike.
I am a cusp
between Taurus and Gemini.
Life has dragged me to the edge
of what is called desperation,
and I’m making choices
I’m not entirely sure
I’m going to like ten years from now
but I’m sure I won’t regret them.

Then, of course,
I live in other people’s houses.
Not as in living with someone
because I love him,
but as in living with other people
because it is cheaper for both of us,
and they get to set the rules.

I’m tired of toeing the line.
I’m sick of pulling up my roots
and packing up and moving on.
I wish I had a choice in some things.

Obviously, I don’t have a choice about
my treacherous heart…
do I absolutely have
to lose my mind?
Life isn't about waiting for the storms to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Offline Mystic1

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Re: 30:30 - Poem #1
« Reply #13 on: December 08, 2008, 01:30 AM »
That which we would gain, we must first lose...our selves.

My first thought upon completing this. G.
I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not for our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex.