POEM ROUNDUP FOR NOVEMBER

POEM ROUNDUP FOR NOVEMBER

Number of poems written: 44
Average number per day: 1.5
Longest poem: I Tried (18 lines)
Shortest poem: Haiku (3 lines)
Total wordcount: 2,405

November

Cough fit, stagger sneeze,
Working life and student too;
Chil November air --
No smiles anywhere
Sniffing, snuffling, trying to please
- There's so much we have to do! -
Cold-clumped under cloudy skies,
Much to do before we die.

Wind Cutting

Wind breaking our words
Scattered cries over the ocean
Of vehicle noises, I wave
Promising to be faithful
As you leave the shore of my world
And I keep waving, even knowing
From your smile you will never return

Rainwords

Walking through the rain, writing
words bleeding off the pages;
there is nothing missing        slipping away
words we haven't found          are
floating through ruined paper,
falling bluer than the raindrops
        staying longer than the snow.

Love Story

I wrote my love in words you couldn't ignore
Sky writing in the air, soaring on love's dare.
I fell so hard from the sky, hit the cold dry ground
But it didn't seem to hurt when you were around.
Now my love is a cold hard thing, all green
With jealousy and hate; all my love has been
Just another lie, I saw you with her, and then
I became the first zombie to buy himself a gun.

Sky

The sky is dry tonight
bleached bone-pale, opal teeth
glittering in distance, flecking the stars.
We keep seeing strangers
we think we know, greeting breaking
on our lips, gull cries shrieked insults.
I am basked by the wind with new names.

Leavetakings

Our god departed from us
Down roads we'd wandered long ago.
There were foghorn bells whistling in his head
A tune upon his many lips and we ---
We had no word with which to hold,
No magic to bend and bind.
Our god left us; it's funny but
Most of us can't tell the difference
When we pray after all.

Set of Modern Poems

Set of Modern Poems

I

When we touch the falling water
We song with the laughing moon
Soft! a step over bridge stones,
The dirt road after ruins.

II

Open for lunch, hanging sign
desperate for attraction. Each night I
an too solid, the dark
figure beside your bed
waiting to eat your sins.

III

The world     dulled     grey, your
          touch
martian colours
          cold fire trailing.

IV

in times before this
rain soaked and bright-grinned
we could forget our names
open up spectral veins and write
right before the rains came up
from hollows in the earth.

Sleepover

You can all bring blankets
Before the stars are dead
We'll catch them as they're falling
Dancing just ahead.

My Fridge, written when my parents were living here

My fridge is now an alien, a stranger unto me:
Abrim with food and nutrients, no longer clean and free.
Time is lost each morning dispensing gold from dross,
Finding which is mine and which guests and gross --
They've filled a fridge with protein that once was passing clean;
If I am lucky this evening it may be as a dream --
My fridge dull and pedestrian, no stranger unto me.