NaPoWriMo 30/30--All Done!

This is the best 30/30 run I ever had since starting this exercise back in 2005.  Not only did I finish early and post my 30th poem last night, but I was also able to do it without breaking the emergency haiku glass.  No limericks or haiku in the bunch.  Plus I was able to take a form I never used before, the pantoum, and put it to great use.  A good month, but I'm exhausted and have a lot of editing to do.  Maybe we should name May National Poetry Reading month.

Check out all my poems (going from last to first) while you can by clicking here, as I may take more than one down as I start revising and submitting.  Comments are always appreciated.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Nine, Poem Thirty

My first early finish since I began doing the 30/30.

 Our 40

We count down the days to our lives' next step
Till now, our steps have never been in sync,
I've always known that you were waiting first
slightly ashamed you didn't mind the wait.

Till now our steps have never been in sync
although our hands have almost brushed before.
Slightly ashamed you didn't mind the wait,
that now my self starts to flake off like paint,

Although our hands have almost brushed before,
our favorite moments of each other missed,
now that my self starts to flake off like paint,
I keep together with your hand against my skin.

Our favorite moments of each other missed,
I've always known that you were waiting first.
I keep together with your hand against my skin.
We count down the days to our lives' next step.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Nine, Poem Twenty-Nine

She keeps a'searching for her Vegas man
and nightly keeps on crawling up the walls.
Does he love her?  She'll say yes if she can.

It's been two months since he packed up his van
Two days plus that since he returned her calls.
She keeps a'searching for her Vegas man

and checks site meters and his Myspace friends
for where his next night pit stop befalls.
Does he love her?  She'll say yes if she can.

She pictures her down south, his feet in sand
before that bitch in Georgia drains his balls.
She keeps a'searching for her Vegas man.

Each talk with friends a death march from Bataan
objective thought will end up in a brawl.
Does he love her?  You'll say yes while you can.

A mouse to skim search engines in one hand,
the other holds new numbers for her trawls
She keeps a'searching for her Vegas man.
Does he love her?  She'll say yes if she can.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Nine, Poem Twenty-Eight

[Edit: "Slide" has been edited and will appear in the Fall 2015 issue of Wilderness House Literary Review.]

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Nine, Poem Twenty-Seven

Court


Rumors jump
spacious lawns


quiet neighbor's
secret suitor

teen son outgrows
child's shotgun

moved pedophile
catch up on Google

cul-de-sac
turned compound

bombardment
amidst bake off

bread of time's
burnt bottom.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Nine, Poem Twenty-Six

A tretina again.


This is what you do if you have hate.
It's small enough for your pocket,
keep it there, far from fine crystal.

People you know buy you crystal
shirts and stockings, cracked by hate
if you take it out of your pocket.

They will try to pick your pocket
make you swallow back your hate
cut your throat with shards like crystal.

At night, hurled hate, smash cornerstones like crystal.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Nine, Poem Twenty-Five

I never know how poems will end,
every finish an unentered crime scene,
my first line a murder weapon, sans prints
placed undetected in my room.

Every finish an unentered crime scene,
the target undetermined by my pen
placed undetected in my room,
your name as random as a lottery.

The target undetermined by my pen,
you're looking into this too much,
your name as random as a lottery
a chalk line so randomly placed.

You're looking into this too much,
my first line, a murder weapon, sans prints,
your name as random as a lottery,
I never know how poems will end.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Eight, Poem Twenty-Four

Wash

Allergies
attack all
aphids with
out allegory,

Sister cries
for visit
cleaning
of room

begs to be
bedbound
with clear
breaths

no more
coughs
she cannot
cover.

PCA's put
pace daily
uplifts on
her Facebook.

Wipe walls
find ashen
holy sigils
behind frames.

Mom says
maybe its
warding off
demons.

Must not
work any
more to
remit rub off.

Mom again
pleads me
visit church
for thank yous

every week
salvation with
Meme lasts
less than milk

Upkeep
as eucharist
no sleep till
Monday a.m.

Death only
seventh day
never left
alone before.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Eight, Poem Twenty-Three

Authentics

Write what
one knows
pen pricks
skin on roll.

If persists
one will find
other flesh
pierce folds.

Why surprised?
Should know
watery resources
aren't forever.

Silent mirthful
self-continent
confidence men
will be colonized.

Your unused
honesty will
be liberated
put to use.

Reap benefits
if want, just
don't conserve
in consonance walls.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Eight, Poem Twenty-Two

Gate

Party over
when revealed
all are invited.

Crashers
run through
open door.

Unwanted
bring over
own beverage.

Walls of
sound broken
by listening.

Noses scrunch
 not everyone
can celebrate.

If all
rejoicing
no one is.

Own hosts
have hailed
authorities.

Circles
spinoff
without tops.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Eight, Poem Twenty-One

Knifed

M.B.

Months after
years later
you return
to claim
victory

having
brought death
to a barfight
against love
for applause

knowing
you could
later
claim win
by attrition

us again
too polite
to note
we could claim
same for you.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Eight, Poem Twenty

Hold

Surpassing
surprise

you turn
I'm still here

Too much
power

how
forgotten

I just
leave

next time
turn back

you feel
I am not

lost just
misplaced

away
from phone

set to ask
forgivness

when next
placed center.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Seven, Poem Nineteen

Edit: This poem is being edited and submitted.  Wish me luck.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Six, Poem Eighteen

Primed

Smile dances
head of pin
angels sweat
to hold up.

Mid night
children wake
check on Mom
for disturbance.

Tiny hands
would thrust
in mattress
for pods.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Five, Poem Seventeen

Passed

Story heard
unspoken

my old stuff
was better

easier to
wrap around

withlonger
words you knew

the art of
the consonance

the color of
monotone

new guy
runs circles

pretending
not to pant.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Five, Poem Sixteen

Number

Beware
own anthems
winning team.

Your raised fist
holds a roll
of coins

you will just
use for
laundry.

You have all
learned to applaud
each other.

with no
advantage
of listening.

your salutes
start losing
their snap.

The secret
handshakes
grow lazy.

While you
drink for free
too fast.

The alley where
your best photos
were taken

has been
reclaimed
by chance

relinquished
by your
absent minds.

Be careful.
We're desperate
hungry enough

to invite you.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Five, Poem Fifteen

Clique Rubbing
For K.M.

Please show don't cartel.


Agendas dubbed over
unplayable mixtapes.

Those who swerve
also sit and bait.

Love is a switch
no hows or whys.

Fuel me once
fame on me.

Rule you once
shame on you.

Blanks for the memories
cruel to rewind.

Grossed out by public
displays of objection.

Fact checkers
wear black hats.

The vined intervention
shearing session, group thug.

American Beauty 

Rose aesthetics.

 
Survival of
the bitterest.

Darwin called
wants his bible back.

Come one cabal.


Apologies to Taylor Mali, whose spelling error poem inspired the title.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Four, Poem Fourteen

Written tonight in the Middle East Cafe during Toni Bee's event.

Edited: "Face" was revised, submitted and published in the first issue of Molecule. 

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Four, Poem Thirteen

Written tonight in the Middle East Cafe during Toni Bee's event.

Dropped

Entitled
in title only
title lost in
old sheet.

They all
decide to
address no
thing in room.

Find room
in elephant
devour
obligation.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Four, Poem Twelve

Off

Sent back
in wild
life verse.

Perfect
art of writing
while shutting up.

Write nothing
in week
masterfully.

Humble
gives unhumble
sun-sized spotlight.

What
happens
when die?

Their moments
of silence for you
already begun.