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Miidnightpoet's Napo thread (1 Viewer)


WF Veterans
Here's my 30 poem thread, hopefully it will make it easier to find them.

April Poem 1: Interlude

The February snow pack
melted into a dry, dusty


People in shorts
walking dogs


cool breezes
under a warm sun

clouds like long, spindly


reach out
to catch a ray or two

before thunderstorms split the sky

soon small yellow, weedy flowers
peek tentatively above the grassy


another freeze

may come
to push them underground again

only months until
sweat glands wake up

cool sunburned skin

as we sit under the now green canopy

with iced tea and sandwiches.

April Poem2: A Foolish Month

Cradle morning clouds

Blush pink

As the new roses

On the vine

April Poem 3: Friends

After the big world war I grew up in a depression area neighborhood of clapboard frame pier-and-beam houses many people had already left so I had few friends when I met Freddy and he asked if I wanted to play baseball and I said sure we used the diamond at the Jr High and knocked to ball around we played all that summer riding our bikes and exploring my mom didn’t care but I knew my dad would have a fit but by the end of summer we had sold out and gone I didn’t see him again until “Nam we met in a smelly Saigon bar he was a Master Sergeant I was only a grunt but we got drunk on local wine telling stories he spent a week in a tiger cage and I nearly drowned in a rice paddy and there were girls and how we managed to stay out of the brig I’ll never know I came home in a wheelchair and went back to the old neighborhood but his mother told me he came home in a bodybag so I found his grave and gave a final salute to an old friend.

April Poem 4: Daggers of the Mind

Beware the unexpected


Taste of blood
Dark as wine
Poured over
Fleshy wounds

So fine

Splits the seam
the curtain falls

It might not be
The Ides of March

This time.

April Poem 5: What do you mean it’s not satire?

To mask or not to mask
That is not a question
Whether to suffer the slings and arrows
Of liberial media
Or to take arms against
People who keep telling me what to do
And by opposing to get trump back
To plan, to riot (no, that’s antifa)
Perchance to steam
(over trifles)
White people in charge forever!

April Poem 6: Persistence

Old cracks in the wall

flowers stake their claim, pop out

seeds blow in the wind

Poem 7: Country Road

Dark night on a country road
dead trees, blackened and burnt
from last last seasons wildfires
spectral giants reaching to grab
the unwary traveller
bushes along the side crowd you
become like a tunnel at night

On your right a buck with five does
stares at you before he jumps
a barbed wire fence

A large semi-trailer passes
lit up like a thousand Christmas trees
you look away, hugging the white line
gripping the steering wheel until you think
it might break

You know each twist and turn
pass ranch gates
lonely farmhouses
you feel a bump as the pungent
scent of skunk fades in the background

Feral eyes are watching from the pastures
prickly pear and salt cedar
only light from a cel tower
on a high bluff
you know you’re nearing home
the cool night air revives you.

April Poem 8:

I cannot grasp the day’s event
wonder where my reason went
hardly will I raise a fuss
for now I drive the geezer bus
my destination’s not too clear
for al I know it’s to my rear
my right shoe has a split
I feel the ground right under it
but with duct tape I make repair
wrapping it all around it there
I wear the same clothes all the week
ny body thus begins to reek
but I’m truly without a care
though I often pee in my underwear

[h=2]#9 - No Title[/h]April Poem 9:No Title

Jack-handy, the nefarious bard
lost his banana atop his petard
but when he jumped quickly
over a hippo named Bickley
he laughed over quite a canard.

April Poem 10: Morning Wake-up call

The morning darkness
Calls my name


Come and dance with us

Chanticleer sounds the morning reveille

As he calls his hens from their roost
Come start your pecking order

Chanticleer #2 answers back
How’s your day?

The air brings a chill
On an early April

The sun is ready for its morning dance
Roadside bluebonnets do the wave
In the light breeze

The only sound in the big rigs
Rolling down main street
And songbirds with their melodies

Darkness fades
And early risers stir
Deciding they’d best go to work.

April Poem 11: no title2

He danced with the swans all night long
the ones who pooped on his lawn
He considered his plight
but try as he might
he couldn't fit in a sarong

Poem 12: Mashup

Dusty Pickle, the shortest sheriff this side of Pigville, danced a jig when he arrested Hogman, the meanest, toughest, rankest, smellest, shirt-eating gangbanger in the county for shooting Arnold Pigsty, even though Arnold deserved it for kicking Hogman's girlfriend, Miss Piggyday, in her teeth for fingering the post office jailkeeper in the robbery of the Last
National Bank.

Poem13:Cutting Edge

slicing through grains
of plastic sand
the experiment quakes
with joy, while pincers
of flesh scramble
through the plot hole
scattering the base camp
of the muses, but forlorn;
the kept fishes blinked,
motionless as fat ‘gators
in the swamp.

Poem 14:Haiku 1

Deer in the backyard
hoof prints akimbo, snow banks
tell tales, starving times

Poem 15:Haiku 2

Late winter snow storm
Early tree leaves cup white flakes
Spring melts to summer

April Poem 16:Lose Muse

Sunday’s muse not easy to trace
Monday’s muse used too much mace
Tuesday's muse led me astray
Wednesday’s muse is my dismay
Thursday’s muse I fired her ass
Friday’s muse is full of sass
Saturday’s muse took a long vacation

Poem 17:

Roses are as pink
As the blush on your cheek
If you kiss me again
You’re the one that I seek

April Poem 18: Portals

Behind closed doors
Sweet words turn to acid

Behind closed doors
She forgets “I love you.”

I know i need her forgiveness
I know I have erred in the past

But still I see that her
Her only love is me

And my love will stay on
‘Till the last

In public she clings to my arm
As if it will save her from harm

But behind closed doors
She forgets the hours
I’ve toiled to give her all my best
Time and time I’ve been put to the test

I toy with the ring on my finger
As is if lost in the ocean or the sand
But I remember my words
When I said “I do”
I know if I’ll do what I can
She won’t leave the warm touch of my hand

April Poem 19: Enigma

She’s as rough as an oak
dried out from a storm

A face in the darkness
That stomps on your nerves

leaves them withered
whipping in the wind

like a kite struggling
To stay aloft

she’s a whirlwind
stripping you of self-control

you want to hold her
know your skin may be burned

but she blows you away
with her soft voice
drift on the hot winds

beyond the horizon
to Ultima Thule

still you hear her

booming laughter

April Poem 20: Oblivion

Man can be an island
In an endless archipelago
Visited by an occasional albatross
Or a sea turtle
Seeking to lay its eggs
In the sand

Or a hurricane
Ripping the palm trees
Up by their roots
In the aftermath
Floating in and out with the tides

Hatchlings crawl toward the sea
Many eaten by seabirds
Others by sharks
The few remaining
Seek the ocean depths

If they’re lucky
one might be reincarnated
As an albatross

Poem 21 : Kokopelli

Trickster god

Hump-backed flute

He carries newborns
On his back

Like storks
Of legend

Scaring native girls
His petroglyph on timeless rocks

Bringing corn
For mother’s harvest

Poem 22: DNA

They crossed Beringia
Land bridge
When Ice covered
The continents
Carrying their DNA
With them
Like sacks on a bindle stick
Cremating their dead
When the ground was too frozen
To penetrate

Humanity’s dawn
Under northern lights

April poem 23

Trees kneel in obeisance
Winter’s ice in death knell
Cracks loom in lost branches
Hope springs in a twig

April Poem 24:

There’s things
In the dark-water swamp
Besides mosquitoes
Long legged
Hairy beings
Wade the shallows
Alligators swim the other way
Humidity clings to cypress
trees like Spanish moss
Long sinuous reptiles
Swallow the unwary
Spectral banshees
Keen for lost loves

April Poem 25: Turnabout

The antlered buck paused
Sniffing the air

An odd scent


Man has been here

He was correct
To be cautious

corn was scattered on the ground

He rubbed his rear
On an ancient oak
He had an itch
Where a hunter’s bullet had grazed
His flesh

His sense of danger overcame
His hunger
He pawed the ground,
His doe and new fawn
Hidden in a copse
Awaiting his return

He lept a nearby fence

April Poem 26
The first rose of spring
In a large green bush
Singing songs
That no one can hear

April Poem 27: Old Bones
We cherish
The old bones

The ones that are cracked

And split
Inside wrinkled arms
And delicate skin
That sags
The flesh lives
Soft as down
You can feel her pain
Her bones
Her old bones

April Poem 28: Italian Cowboy

Uncle Ernie

electrician by trade
Italian-American by birth
Italian by temperament

He wore hand-tooled boots
and a belt with a large buckle
with a bucking bronco
large letters
on the back read:


love him
hate him

When he died
as per his request
he was carried to the graveyard
in his bright red pickup

“On the road again”
blaring from the tape deck
followed by his family.

It was some wake.
Afterward, the family
Resumed sniping at each other.

April poem 29 :Haiku 3

Roses, sun yellow
Irises purple as they
had been bruised by bees

April Poem 30: Neptune Beckons

Though I lie
Five fathoms deep
Fish swim by
I try to sleep

But I wake from my slumber
Waves wash me to and fro
I sometimes hear distant thunder
The current tells me where to go

Washed I am upon a beach
Where price of lies is far too steep
I bleed for loss beyond my reach
wish I stayed where flounders creep

To each other
But the truth might as well
Be on a mopuntaintop in Tibet
Tryin to find
The meaning of like
By starring at his nave
And drinking his piss/