Official DUP NaPo/GloProWrimo 2018
Anonymous
30/30
Anatomy Of Desire
This is only the beginning
for every moment
we recognize as now
is an opportunity to birth
reality anew
and I can't imagine
mine without you
determined to have
more of your companionship
outside a limited realm of
virtuality;
texts seen on screen
voices heard from speakers
exchanged
through deep underground
wormholes of data digital
It's simply not enough
in my unfinished life story
currently bookmarked
in Chapter Forty-Seven
What remaining years
I hope to have you in my arms
only to let you go someday
I will be the better for it
There will be no loss to lament;
only gain
in the Love, expressed
and received as best
as we could manage
until desire dictates
our next rendesvous
for Ahavati with Love
💜
Anatomy Of Desire
This is only the beginning
for every moment
we recognize as now
is an opportunity to birth
reality anew
and I can't imagine
mine without you
determined to have
more of your companionship
outside a limited realm of
virtuality;
texts seen on screen
voices heard from speakers
exchanged
through deep underground
wormholes of data digital
It's simply not enough
in my unfinished life story
currently bookmarked
in Chapter Forty-Seven
What remaining years
I hope to have you in my arms
only to let you go someday
I will be the better for it
There will be no loss to lament;
only gain
in the Love, expressed
and received as best
as we could manage
until desire dictates
our next rendesvous
for Ahavati with Love
💜
29/30
I’m moving on
I'm moving on from the pain of the past
I'm moving on from relationships that didn't last
I'm moving on from the person I used to be
I'm moving on from the blindness when I couldn't see
I'm moving on with eyes opened wide
I'm moving on from the pain I've held inside
I'm moving on with my life how it is
I'm moving on from bad thoughts and closed fists
I'm moving on from the people who don't care
I'm moving on f rom feeling like thin air
I'm moving on from the people who use
I'm moving on from the pain and abuse
I'm moving on from those who would lie
I'm moving on from them that think they're sly
30/30
Lost Friendship
How many days will it take for you
To realize the hurt from things you do
When will it all come to an end
Will we be able to begin again
There are so many questions in my mind
Even searching for answers I can't find
What are the things that you want to hide
What is it that you keep inside
I can't help you until you want to talk
Though I'll be by your side and continue to walk
With you, continue with your pace
I won't leave you behind, so don't hide your face
Come on I've been your friend for many a year
I've always been there, you've nothing to fear
Realize that I have never put conditions on you
But I want to help, don't know if you want that too
Don't know where our friendship stands
But it's not my place or right to demand
Should I continue or should I fall back
Do you feel comforted or do you feel attacked
Talk to me and don't leave me behind
For greener pastures that don't respond in kind
*finally all caught up! Double posting*
I’m moving on
I'm moving on from the pain of the past
I'm moving on from relationships that didn't last
I'm moving on from the person I used to be
I'm moving on from the blindness when I couldn't see
I'm moving on with eyes opened wide
I'm moving on from the pain I've held inside
I'm moving on with my life how it is
I'm moving on from bad thoughts and closed fists
I'm moving on from the people who don't care
I'm moving on f rom feeling like thin air
I'm moving on from the people who use
I'm moving on from the pain and abuse
I'm moving on from those who would lie
I'm moving on from them that think they're sly
30/30
Lost Friendship
How many days will it take for you
To realize the hurt from things you do
When will it all come to an end
Will we be able to begin again
There are so many questions in my mind
Even searching for answers I can't find
What are the things that you want to hide
What is it that you keep inside
I can't help you until you want to talk
Though I'll be by your side and continue to walk
With you, continue with your pace
I won't leave you behind, so don't hide your face
Come on I've been your friend for many a year
I've always been there, you've nothing to fear
Realize that I have never put conditions on you
But I want to help, don't know if you want that too
Don't know where our friendship stands
But it's not my place or right to demand
Should I continue or should I fall back
Do you feel comforted or do you feel attacked
Talk to me and don't leave me behind
For greener pastures that don't respond in kind
*finally all caught up! Double posting*
30.
Post-poet Production.
Greased gears grind as gummed up with gregarious grammar
stammering in rhyming time to the hammers of keys,
clicking in chittering chattering clattering of characters
in order to unload more unnecessary excessive essays
that can hardly be called hardy poetry.
Although mostly harmless, are definitely artless
fathered by the fearsome poem factory
churning out copious catalogues of compositions
drowning the daring delver in deranged descriptive dialogues,
each word brings an inch of woe without originality
passages and packages of plagiarism
to put off even the most muse filled budding poet,
as the caches of clichés are slaves to the stale style
pounded out in punctual presentation
too boring to even bring irritation.
Steam powered pistons providing the least steamy erotica
mindless mechanisms making mundane metaphors
radioactive robots organising inorganic obvious rhymes:
a true warehouse of horrors
thanks to the lyrical and linguistic errors
of an eccentric inventor
now ex-inhabitant and deceased
interred within their overseeing office
a stiff skeleton watching successive sheets or sordid sentences
rushing onwards with empty intent
as empty as the skull and skill
still grinning as the gears grind and groan
wearing faded competition medals on now bare bones
but still the factory functions even as the initiator is an ex-poet
the eerie epilogue only gets longer
and the groaning gears get louder.
(Unique words: 163.)
Post-poet Production.
Greased gears grind as gummed up with gregarious grammar
stammering in rhyming time to the hammers of keys,
clicking in chittering chattering clattering of characters
in order to unload more unnecessary excessive essays
that can hardly be called hardy poetry.
Although mostly harmless, are definitely artless
fathered by the fearsome poem factory
churning out copious catalogues of compositions
drowning the daring delver in deranged descriptive dialogues,
each word brings an inch of woe without originality
passages and packages of plagiarism
to put off even the most muse filled budding poet,
as the caches of clichés are slaves to the stale style
pounded out in punctual presentation
too boring to even bring irritation.
Steam powered pistons providing the least steamy erotica
mindless mechanisms making mundane metaphors
radioactive robots organising inorganic obvious rhymes:
a true warehouse of horrors
thanks to the lyrical and linguistic errors
of an eccentric inventor
now ex-inhabitant and deceased
interred within their overseeing office
a stiff skeleton watching successive sheets or sordid sentences
rushing onwards with empty intent
as empty as the skull and skill
still grinning as the gears grind and groan
wearing faded competition medals on now bare bones
but still the factory functions even as the initiator is an ex-poet
the eerie epilogue only gets longer
and the groaning gears get louder.
(Unique words: 163.)
Do You Ever - - - - (30 / 30) - and breathe,...................
Do you ever get that warm fuzzy feeling
That delightful warming glow and smile
Do you ever really recognise true beauty
In a thing, a person or a piece of work
Do you ever appreciate a work of art
Loving its tones, colours and shades
Admiring true artistry and mastery
Do you ever bask in awe of beauty
Does it ever capture you beating heart
Or does it ever possess you very soul
Beauty is not in the eye of the beholder
Beauty, real beauty just is
Do you ever create something so beautiful
That your creative abilities astound you
You know that anyone with a brain will
Not only look but will be able to experience
Its artistry as the internal emotion of awe
Do you ever look at somebody, even stare
And want so much to become one with them
You want to immortalise them as a piece of
Modern sculpture or an impressionist painting
Do you ever take time to just appreciate
The roses smell like roses
Do you ever look at someone really beautiful
And at the same time recognise their ugliness
It is only in being able to recognise the ugliness
That I can truly create something beautiful
Do you ever look at someone that is ugly
And think they could be made to look beautiful
Do you ever wish there was a magic pill that you
Could take that would give you conventional beauty
Do you ever think that conventional concepts
Of beauty are shallow and seriously misguided
Surely there must be more than just looks
Must be more than shape, weight and size
Did you ever wish there was a process
A process to beautify on the inside and outside
There is: It's called torture and murder
I always start slowly and steadily baby steps
Well really! I abhor any deliberate cruelty
Unless the motive is enhancing one's beauty
Cruelty to animals is perfectly fine, dogs, cats, apes
Rabbits with eye shadow looking absolutely fabulous
Smoking Beagles, Botox injected chimps super cute
Dying in pain to help us look totally drop dead gorgeous
My first victim was my mother; a beast of a woman
I learned a lot from her and her murdered tricks
Sex and power can make anyone beautiful regardless
Well, I should say beautiful to some weak minded soul
Apart from myself the rest of humanity is seriously ugly
I am special, a one off, perfectly beautiful, no flaws
I had to go to brazil toy have my genitals removed
And a smooth pieces of my skin sewn no as a covering
To be beautiful you cannot have or support any gender
I look like GI Joe or Action Man removed from ugly sex
To desire is just a human weakness
Lesley Ashdown (36) my captive client for 17 days
Well some people need more work than others
I Handcuffed her to the table did a comedy routine
To try and make her smile or laugh; It didn't work
So I took out my scalpel and cut off her lower lip
Down to the chin line; lots of muffled screaming,
Lots of blood and trembling gave her five to calm
Then sliced of her bottom lip tight up to under the nose
She looked so much better, such a pretty white smile
Well after I bleached and cleaned the wounds and teeth
She had been a wannabe Goth but it's a hard look to get
Right: I poured lighter fluid carefully into her eyes set them
Alight add more lighter fuel : Lovely Gothic Black Eyes
Long black hair is so last year; red is the new black
So carefully trace her hair lines and removed her scalp
Her whimpering, screaming and pleading symphonic
Piercings are in vogue I nail gunned her several only
A few tore out but we can hide that she still needed a
Nose job, big noses never a good thing but my meat
Tenderising mallet eventually gave us results: Cute
Last job for this one she's only four foot eight that will
Never do: With my trusty branch lopper I sawed both
Her feet off at the shin. I then got two of her pony's legs
Earlier removed and acetylene torch in hand I welded them
Onto her stumps wow aint she the tall one, long legs, wow!
So 17 days it took now she is a gothic princess, a smiling, tall,
Leggy, red head with lovely blackened eyes. Beautiful on the
Inside too, anaesthetics are for wimps torture is what cleanses
No pain, no gain
Day 17: I find my green eyed jealousy growing fast
She is now more beautiful than me; can't have that
No sir indeed, "think your beautiful, don't you?"
She mumbled an 'ugh!' I lifted her head from behind
Shot her 6 times in the back of the head destroying
Her face, "Not so pretty now bitch." I put a pig mask
Over her face and installed her as my 19th work of are
Outside the Baptist church by cover of night, There will
Be the usual outcry from the general public but these are
the sheep then all of a sudden art critics who wouldn't know
beauty, who can't appreciate my installations unless they
Experience it for them self and they all should, all of them
Number 20 will be my best yet
Do you ever get that warm fuzzy feeling
That delightful warming glow and smile
Do you ever really recognise true beauty
In a thing, a person or a piece of work
Do you ever appreciate a work of art
Loving its tones, colours and shades
Admiring true artistry and mastery
Do you ever bask in awe of beauty
Does it ever capture you beating heart
Or does it ever possess you very soul
Beauty is not in the eye of the beholder
Beauty, real beauty just is
Do you ever create something so beautiful
That your creative abilities astound you
You know that anyone with a brain will
Not only look but will be able to experience
Its artistry as the internal emotion of awe
Do you ever look at somebody, even stare
And want so much to become one with them
You want to immortalise them as a piece of
Modern sculpture or an impressionist painting
Do you ever take time to just appreciate
The roses smell like roses
Do you ever look at someone really beautiful
And at the same time recognise their ugliness
It is only in being able to recognise the ugliness
That I can truly create something beautiful
Do you ever look at someone that is ugly
And think they could be made to look beautiful
Do you ever wish there was a magic pill that you
Could take that would give you conventional beauty
Do you ever think that conventional concepts
Of beauty are shallow and seriously misguided
Surely there must be more than just looks
Must be more than shape, weight and size
Did you ever wish there was a process
A process to beautify on the inside and outside
There is: It's called torture and murder
I always start slowly and steadily baby steps
Well really! I abhor any deliberate cruelty
Unless the motive is enhancing one's beauty
Cruelty to animals is perfectly fine, dogs, cats, apes
Rabbits with eye shadow looking absolutely fabulous
Smoking Beagles, Botox injected chimps super cute
Dying in pain to help us look totally drop dead gorgeous
My first victim was my mother; a beast of a woman
I learned a lot from her and her murdered tricks
Sex and power can make anyone beautiful regardless
Well, I should say beautiful to some weak minded soul
Apart from myself the rest of humanity is seriously ugly
I am special, a one off, perfectly beautiful, no flaws
I had to go to brazil toy have my genitals removed
And a smooth pieces of my skin sewn no as a covering
To be beautiful you cannot have or support any gender
I look like GI Joe or Action Man removed from ugly sex
To desire is just a human weakness
Lesley Ashdown (36) my captive client for 17 days
Well some people need more work than others
I Handcuffed her to the table did a comedy routine
To try and make her smile or laugh; It didn't work
So I took out my scalpel and cut off her lower lip
Down to the chin line; lots of muffled screaming,
Lots of blood and trembling gave her five to calm
Then sliced of her bottom lip tight up to under the nose
She looked so much better, such a pretty white smile
Well after I bleached and cleaned the wounds and teeth
She had been a wannabe Goth but it's a hard look to get
Right: I poured lighter fluid carefully into her eyes set them
Alight add more lighter fuel : Lovely Gothic Black Eyes
Long black hair is so last year; red is the new black
So carefully trace her hair lines and removed her scalp
Her whimpering, screaming and pleading symphonic
Piercings are in vogue I nail gunned her several only
A few tore out but we can hide that she still needed a
Nose job, big noses never a good thing but my meat
Tenderising mallet eventually gave us results: Cute
Last job for this one she's only four foot eight that will
Never do: With my trusty branch lopper I sawed both
Her feet off at the shin. I then got two of her pony's legs
Earlier removed and acetylene torch in hand I welded them
Onto her stumps wow aint she the tall one, long legs, wow!
So 17 days it took now she is a gothic princess, a smiling, tall,
Leggy, red head with lovely blackened eyes. Beautiful on the
Inside too, anaesthetics are for wimps torture is what cleanses
No pain, no gain
Day 17: I find my green eyed jealousy growing fast
She is now more beautiful than me; can't have that
No sir indeed, "think your beautiful, don't you?"
She mumbled an 'ugh!' I lifted her head from behind
Shot her 6 times in the back of the head destroying
Her face, "Not so pretty now bitch." I put a pig mask
Over her face and installed her as my 19th work of are
Outside the Baptist church by cover of night, There will
Be the usual outcry from the general public but these are
the sheep then all of a sudden art critics who wouldn't know
beauty, who can't appreciate my installations unless they
Experience it for them self and they all should, all of them
Number 20 will be my best yet
29/30
pie in the sky
You called me today
and I - to be honest -
could think of nothing to say.
Hope I come across as
cold as I am
in my chest,
because I'm done with the cognitive
dissonance
of seeing a warm spirit in the mirror
and feeling perfectly fine
twenty-four hours after
knocking off
that dirty gauze.
Of knowing all the reasons it
wasn't going to happen
and waiting for it to happen.
Now everything in my life is right in front of me.
Where I can cut, tie, and weave it
instead of doing my best
to believe in it.
I've learned not to build my self
on distant longings.
I went vegan, and read Malcolm X.
I have no chance - not anymore -
of dreaming without proof -
of even craving a piece of post-degree paradise
that I - honestly -
can't even view
as food.
30/30
deadbeat dreams
The person in the mirror
has startled me
more than a few times this month.
I can hardly
name the things that have changed -
but my small, sturdy frame
seems more certain -
my irises saw all the work
begin,
so their olive shines;
no more muted light
like day behind curtain -
my ears have been bitten
in a manner more perfect
than sound -
and they've heard it,
my verses
are loud -
for inside of my head
in a speakerless cloud,
they've sucked up this month's substance
and rained the words out.
The person in the mirror
has startled me.
They look braver
and stronger.
Starkest change - the best,
they kicked out the daydreams
who have missed this month's rent.
When those visions
hit the street of reality,
some of them will shape up
and find their own way
in the world they were made from.
Some will survive;
some will die;
some will bleed
and mend themselves.
The person in the mirror has dropped them all.
Which will be strong enough? -
I suppose we'll see.
pie in the sky
You called me today
and I - to be honest -
could think of nothing to say.
Hope I come across as
cold as I am
in my chest,
because I'm done with the cognitive
dissonance
of seeing a warm spirit in the mirror
and feeling perfectly fine
twenty-four hours after
knocking off
that dirty gauze.
Of knowing all the reasons it
wasn't going to happen
and waiting for it to happen.
Now everything in my life is right in front of me.
Where I can cut, tie, and weave it
instead of doing my best
to believe in it.
I've learned not to build my self
on distant longings.
I went vegan, and read Malcolm X.
I have no chance - not anymore -
of dreaming without proof -
of even craving a piece of post-degree paradise
that I - honestly -
can't even view
as food.
30/30
deadbeat dreams
The person in the mirror
has startled me
more than a few times this month.
I can hardly
name the things that have changed -
but my small, sturdy frame
seems more certain -
my irises saw all the work
begin,
so their olive shines;
no more muted light
like day behind curtain -
my ears have been bitten
in a manner more perfect
than sound -
and they've heard it,
my verses
are loud -
for inside of my head
in a speakerless cloud,
they've sucked up this month's substance
and rained the words out.
The person in the mirror
has startled me.
They look braver
and stronger.
Starkest change - the best,
they kicked out the daydreams
who have missed this month's rent.
When those visions
hit the street of reality,
some of them will shape up
and find their own way
in the world they were made from.
Some will survive;
some will die;
some will bleed
and mend themselves.
The person in the mirror has dropped them all.
Which will be strong enough? -
I suppose we'll see.
30/30
The Devil Pities Men
What's been lost cannot be found
though it may lurk in plain sight
when the tumble down the hill
results in grace torn to shreds
we're all human in the end
these digressions are the norm
seeking wounds will only end
with a fall to deepest pits
it's the freak that stands above
without the skeletons duly hid
those slips of will in anger's course
or lust embraced instead of trust
pity their soul until the time
their turn is taken to devolve
because the low road calls to all
the quick drop from Heaven's peak
it's all fair in love and war
we tell ourselves as bullets fly
indiscretion met with same
indignation through carnal strife
mix the two with sure knowledge
there are no saints in the end
only wounded of pained degrees
seeking payback none shall have
sympathy will cut both ways
when the mud covers all
there are no winners in the end
even the Devil pities men
it's no wonder there are few
with white wings of angel kin
standing on hills above the rest
the high ground few will retain.
The Devil Pities Men
What's been lost cannot be found
though it may lurk in plain sight
when the tumble down the hill
results in grace torn to shreds
we're all human in the end
these digressions are the norm
seeking wounds will only end
with a fall to deepest pits
it's the freak that stands above
without the skeletons duly hid
those slips of will in anger's course
or lust embraced instead of trust
pity their soul until the time
their turn is taken to devolve
because the low road calls to all
the quick drop from Heaven's peak
it's all fair in love and war
we tell ourselves as bullets fly
indiscretion met with same
indignation through carnal strife
mix the two with sure knowledge
there are no saints in the end
only wounded of pained degrees
seeking payback none shall have
sympathy will cut both ways
when the mud covers all
there are no winners in the end
even the Devil pities men
it's no wonder there are few
with white wings of angel kin
standing on hills above the rest
the high ground few will retain.
30/30 
ghost
I wandered the city
like a ghost
faded, barely there,
unnoticed
passing over the world
letting it slip through me
powerless physically
but completely
and totally
free
a ghost
strange substance
a mind without matter
not bound by life's routines
or sicknesses and bodily needs
a ghost
misunderstood
on an earth polluted
crowds of hollow people
in empty human shells
pretty rotten souls
chasing temporary pleasures
and external sensations
blind inside, eyes wide
selfishly seeking
reaching only
a fleeting sweetness
oblivious
meaningless
I wandered this
hell
like a ghost
separated, overlooked
left alone to observe
isolated, invisible
nothing
but a ghost
escaping dirty eyes
accountable to no one
wandering free
entire being
gifted
with peace
ghost
I wandered the city
like a ghost
faded, barely there,
unnoticed
passing over the world
letting it slip through me
powerless physically
but completely
and totally
free
a ghost
strange substance
a mind without matter
not bound by life's routines
or sicknesses and bodily needs
a ghost
misunderstood
on an earth polluted
crowds of hollow people
in empty human shells
pretty rotten souls
chasing temporary pleasures
and external sensations
blind inside, eyes wide
selfishly seeking
reaching only
a fleeting sweetness
oblivious
meaningless
I wandered this
hell
like a ghost
separated, overlooked
left alone to observe
isolated, invisible
nothing
but a ghost
escaping dirty eyes
accountable to no one
wandering free
entire being
gifted
with peace
30/30
Numbers
She told me 125
I told her it was heavy
What’s the use if I drop a few?
It won’t matter anyway
To work I went
Hours spent
Staring at a scale
That can’t be right
I’m not that slight
I’m a fucking whale
She told me 120
I said that’s plenty
Let’s go a little more
She didn’t know what I’d planned
I had much more in store
One two three pounds
The number began to drop
Now there’s no turning back
I will never stop
110 was the end
My goal it once was set
But I knew I could go lower
I had made a bet
Numbers decreased
Heart rate slowing
Anxiety ceased
100 it was showing
When will the doctors learn
It’s a mental game
How the tables have turned
Numbers
She told me 125
I told her it was heavy
What’s the use if I drop a few?
It won’t matter anyway
To work I went
Hours spent
Staring at a scale
That can’t be right
I’m not that slight
I’m a fucking whale
She told me 120
I said that’s plenty
Let’s go a little more
She didn’t know what I’d planned
I had much more in store
One two three pounds
The number began to drop
Now there’s no turning back
I will never stop
110 was the end
My goal it once was set
But I knew I could go lower
I had made a bet
Numbers decreased
Heart rate slowing
Anxiety ceased
100 it was showing
When will the doctors learn
It’s a mental game
How the tables have turned
