A series of Challenge poems. There were 26 book titles in all to choose from, so I made a point to write about all of them in one sitting.
I - Dream Science
Charlie lay on the floor,
sparks of sodium chloride flew above his head,
dyed purple, the beaker bubbled dreams,
a psychology major out of his depth
played with the chemistry of mind.
II Missing Pieces
He awoke from his sidewalk stop,
the booze worn off and morning light
streaming into a fogged compartment,
he scruffed back his disheveled hair
placed the key in the ignition. Power!
Nowhere too soon, left nor right,
no straight ahead on the gears,
accelerating forward and backward, nothing
out of the car onto thin ice, slipping
and there, the missing pieces, no wheels.
It was a good night, a worse day.
III Watch Time Fly
His legs were fast, damned quick
flying like a suited business man
to a very late appointment, sadly
he lost control and tumbled, wrist watch
catapulting into somersaults,
dying in a crescendo of Timex parts.
IV A Stone Gone Mad
When I first saw this title, I thought
"Stoner gone mad" and thought, yeah, true!
but no, 'twas a granite or igneous particle,
off on a rant or a crazed flight into infamy,
someone’s window. smashed beyond belief,
yeah, could have been a stoner going mad.
V Life Support
Delilah breathed heavily, the breath of a saviour,
clutched Samson to her expansive bosom,
he stirred some,
and she clutched tighter, the scissors near his heart,
he groaned, not sure why he was where he was,
and felt her heartbeat through his ear,
the sharp metal close to his chest, felt his hair
and gaped anew, how could she, do I live or die?
VI Life Estates
"And I leave all my estate to William and Shane,
my two homosexual partners, they served me well,
to my sons and daughters I leave my life,
breathe me, feel my cold dead skin,
and cry, for you have pained me when all I seek
was joy and hope, but you fought over me,
and you fight forever, with yourselves,
not my lovers. They have always loved me. Life!"
VII A Cry in the Night
"Your turn, darling" she whispered to me,
the same me tired from a 12 hour shift,
the same me that loves her dearly when
she stays home all day and sleeps, when baby sleeps,
but I love her, and move to the room next door,
the crying in the night, urgent, nappy change
and I smell the detritus of infant expulsion, reach
for the new disposable, change Lucifer, clean
and put back to bed, contented and happy,
I sleep, and then he calls again, food this time,
"Your turn, darling" I whisper as I drift off to sleep.
$35 dollars for Jay walking,
A sunny day, no clouds.
I am alright, just dandy.
The cord was sinewy, very sinewy.
Yes, everything is fine.
Bibliographical Octet Parts IX - XVI
IX The Pull of the Moon
Saurus and Junipon, stars of nights heaven
pull together apart, a love dance
of epic proportions across the scene,
and lovers dance too, on Earth and know
the moment when their love consumes,
look up to the dark night sky and see
the shuddering as each pulls on the Moon.
X Trial by Water
Your Honour, I beg of you
hark the words of my daughter
stake my heart to your desk,
I expect a Trial By Water.
I will be vindicated by the wet,
and the evidence we shall give,
like fish in water swimming,
we shall walk free and heartily live.
Fuck dude, bad buzz man, alliteration
Sucked seventy saucy savannas succulently,
and dreamed of being somewhere else, punctuation
had a thought: "Fuck man! What Happened?", inspiration
I walked my memory back in rerun, saw the beginning
raged at what was to come,
dark patches as smoke roiled,
and then the Flashback ended as I toked another joint.
XII The Sibling
Sisyphus, great poet, hark thine words of joy,
thy daughters repose, garnered for all to peruse,
doth thou maketh past the watchdog at yon gate,
sail youthfully upon sword of indifference, his son,
and sibling rivalry doth endeth in demise of one,
or other. Harketh now, sibling, live.
XIII The Third Twin
Three mountains stand,
triangular in disposition,
one next to the other
next to the other
and only ever two visible
from any viewpoint, twins
three twins, Herecule, Junas,
Serecles, only three,
yet any two together
is a twin without the other.
What of the Third Twin?
Made invisible by tricks of light
and made visible by tricks of motion,
but always when visible
another is not, the Third Twin,
it's destiny to be alone, unseen.
XIV Arc Light
Two diodes, standing in a lab,
one transmitting, one receiving,
between, a fluorescent blue flash,
an arc of light pure, energy raw,
manufactured, yet real and solid,
reaching from one point t'other.
"See it? Now, there, pretty eh?"
XV From Potter's Field
Bruiser walks the furrowed lane,
furrowed from weeks of rain
and wagon wheels, and the clay
droppings from the Potters field.
His daily grind, hail, rain, snow,
to walk that lane, dig that field,
carry that clay back to yon pottery,
and to mould it into a figure or two.
From the field is born art,
and the ability to create life,
make things people see and touch
and want to take home with them
all for money, and love t'is said.
Left unread, the How To book
for the Potters Wheel is oft
discarded into the Potters Field
left untouched, true art is born.
XVI Leaving Pico
Here I was, 7 days there and now leaving Pico,
Little dirt town, in the middle of the back and beyond,
no dirty town water, clean folk, crime a measure of no policemen,
I had left my mark, spend many dollars in the saloon,
yet all too soon, I was busted for a drifter, and now,
I was leaving Pico for sure. for reasons beyond my control,
Two bit town, twenty buildings, mostly houses, one store,
a saloon with barber shop attached, oh and the lady's hairdresser's
attached to the store, each place in a place and a purpose for each,
Pico, doctor's surgery closed past ten years, too small for one,
and the sheriff, well, he went when the state budget forgot,
forgot that Pico existed still, yet it does, I have been there.
And now I am leaving it, leaving that place of no identity,
yet I feel at home there, my identity fits the bill, the reason Pico
and the likes of me exist, because we just do, and bugger the world,
Now you see me turning, facing my destiny, my life,
my anonymity takes it's place with the lack of identity,
I mingle, lost in the crowded saloon, amongst the voices familiar.
I can leave Pico, but you cant take the Pico out of me!
Bibliographical Nonet Parts XVII - XXV
XVII Blood and Gold
Morbidica, the larycose mortician and druid,
parted the flaps and inserted fluid,
like an ancient priest practising arts of old
and removed the Blood, inserted the Gold,
a rich vein of conceit you have never seen,
as a shining finger washed through a remaining spleen,
the time had come for the service now
time to transplant, human offal for cow,
the service would be as they always had,
dogs barking, cats meowing, witches so glad.
XVIII Bad Memory
Sweat pours off my aching brow and I wonder,
why this damned nightmare day after day,
headaches from the incessant pounding of it's rhythm,
and I etch out the times it leaves me breathless,
minus my true direction, the dream sits as a
bad memory that wants to erode my very being
and I cringe,
shock back into myself,
try hard to be free,
to kick the damn thing away,
yet it clings to me every night and mocks my existence.
Climatis Aurora, high in the sky,
cutting the blue, as ice cuts my life,
stuck in a floe, arctic bound, stalled
and all aboard freezing as fuel runs low,
steel hull crumpling under icebound fury,
will I survive this torment?
Northern Star points my way north,
yet my motion does not mirror the ocean,
I am frozen solid in a liquid prison
prismatic light refracts and sends off a sight
to behold, light pictures dance in the cold,
make way, rescue ensues, cutting through, icebound.
XX Cards of Grief
He may as well have held a pack of guns in his hand,
each one turned shooting a pain into my gambling heart,
each turn of the deck stretching the rope round my neck,
each flick of his wrist a shot in the dark and a hit,
He may as well held my fate in his hands, he did!
I walked from the gambling hall, alive,
wondered at that final hand,
how my cards turned green and gold,
and his turned with grief,
I had everything on it, and won,
took his money, car, wife. and though brief,
I read his cards of grief.
XXI Blood Music
Mozart wrote an unknown suite,
a tribute to the butchers of the streets of Venice,
and it was lost to time, a menace in it's simplicity,
true duplicity saw it's demise, yet surprise,
it lives, Blood Music, for the pageantry of the dervish,
and devilish peons of the city squares
dancing to light footed mood and full bodied groove,
and the music spills on the floor and follows the trails
of red gore as they pass into history again.
XXII A Darker Place
I've been there before, the black hole,
a place to hide from the light, the fear,
a place to dwell in my own miserable hell,
a darker place no one can share, nowhere
a place to be when I feel the mood to hide,
and I do, all the time, hide from me, my life,
but for all the darkness it offers I can't get away
from the bright light that is my wife, she always finds me.
XXIII Ancient of Days
Days of Sumerians, and Mesopotamia,
days of Sanskrit beginnings and the Indus,
the moments when Ottoman and Turk hated,
Alexander the Great spread Greek culture,
like a vulture of passion, looking to be Dionysus,
and the Romans crucified men only, women who knows?
Bodecia swung an axe, very bad BO she had,
and some Arabs wrote down what someone had to say,
in the Ancients Days.
The archaeologists dig with trowels and tools,
and read the signs that tell us of those times,
tell us that Tutankhamen was a boy prince, godlike,
let's us know that the Israelites travelled as the book says,
confirms the word of mouth of the Persians
and Indians who could have told you all this,
and history holds sway,
from Ancient Days.
XXIV By the Light of the Moon
I sang a song for a second, remembered it's name
realised that this poem and it were not the same,
that wasn't meant to rhyme,
I really don't have anymore time,
By the light of the Silvery Moon
sounds better than this poems tune,
and the cat ran away with the spoon,
By the light of the Moon.
XXV Fear Nothing
Stand proud, puff out your chest, and always
do your best to survive, fear nothing at all,
face the music, face reality, and fly,
fly in the face of fear, and you will get there.
Believe in yourself and others abilities
things you all have to face that which you fear
and it becomes clear what to do, fight
for what you feel is right, fear naught.
Take a deep breath, and puff, huff and puff
your chest out, be rough, and kind, just be,
the best you can, run with the wind, faster
than the chasing dogs barking at your heels, no fear.
No Fear, no worries, no need to say sorry
to everyone that you step on, upon the night
you know it is alright to hold no fear, and hold it
dear and near your heart, and fear won't get a start.