September poetry challenge – Day 29

Good habits
The practical meaning of “push” and “pull” when applied to doors is still shrouded in mystery, isn’t it?
Isn’t it easy to keep your feeding area for feeding purposes only?
This puppy will mark a lot of corners as its territory.
Please, not a crazy cat lady; although, why the hell not…
Pi to fifty places.
That pompous steel pinky ring must be one of the very few items that never got lost – well, that’s something.
You never lost yourself to begin with.
How far have you ran?
How tall is your Araucaria heterophylla?
Have those orchids ended up dying after all or did you just throw them out?
O great wizard of hindsight, so which of the points prohibited return?
You still never read in your mother tongue, though you probably should.
Pi to a hundred places.
Paranoid Android.
A poem a day.
An hour of strumming a day.
Floss daily.
Apply sunscreen liberally.
O great wizard of hindsight, is skeletonization still a good approach for isocentre selection in radiosurgery?
So far, the proportion of all assumptions made that have not been proven otherwise is the following:
Pi to a thousand places.


September poetry challenge – Day 27

An okay night for looking at the moon

The crescent is low tonight,
Floating in the clear black water
Like a child’s ball washed ashore,
Disturbed with a bright flash light.

All you hear is a mute scream
When the light hits its surface.

How easy it is to love
This ball when it’s white and plump,
Its dimples begging for more:

More songs, more sighs, more kisses.

They howl at the reflection.

Would you howl at this sliver?

September poetry challenge – Day 24

Necessary change of seasons

The arsonist is late this time.

Is he stuck in traffic?
Has he forgotten?
Has he even been called for?
Did you leave a voicemail?

After all this time
One would assume
He never forgets,
So that option is out of question.

But he is late,
And that fact starting to show.

As pleasant as it might feel
Not to have him arrive,
Clumsy and morose,
Reeking of decomposing roadkill,
Inevitably turning pulsating lungs into
Salty, dusty, grey fluff,
Don’t you also miss

How lovely they burn,

Red, orange, yellow,
Little tongues of flame?

The arsonist is late.
Time-stamping among the living-dead
Is becoming ungainly.

September poetry challenge – Days 22 and 23

Day 22 – Team sports

Mine kept me up all night,
Hot and sweaty.

Mine didn’t let me get out
Of bed at all,
All weekend-long.

Mine started like it does:
First in my throat,
Then my sinuses,

But now it’s all the way
Down in my chest,
And it looks like
It’s going to linger
For a while.

Ah, there is nothing quite like
Friendly competition.

Day 23 – Circe’s drunken rant

Odysseus leaving me
Really wasn’t the worst thing.
Odysseus was whiny
And a little bit boring,
And he also made me waste
Some perfectly good potion
That took a whole week to make!

The Sun refusing to shine –
That was really the worst thing.
Wasn’t I his little girl,
Dancing in the meadows and
Making perfumes and bouquets
And elixirs out of weeds
And flowers like he taught me?

The Sun telling me to leave –
After he was the one who
Had me marry an asshole
Who’d always keep calling me
“A dirty hippie who’s worse
In bed than all of her maids”.
Long story short – I killed him.

I killed him. I’m not sorry.
I turned some men into swine
(They were much like my ex-husband)
Here and there – serves them better!
Additionally, pigs are
Graceful and gentle creatures,
So what is the big deal here?

September poetry challenge – Day 19


One cat
And a flask
Containing poison –
When does reality collapse,
And what good is the cat that is both alive and dead?

Classic prisoners

Is free
To betray,
And B is the same,
Pure rationality dictates
The course of actions that the prisoners aren’t taking.
There’s certainly lots to be said about human stupidity.

September poetry challenge – Days 15 and 16

Day 15 – A job interview

“Hey let’s play a game!
Let’s play truth or dare!”,
Said the cute creature
After one too many

Well, why the hell not,
Let’s play truth or dare…
People play this game
When they are quite drunk.
Or horny. Or both.

Fair enough, he though.
At least it’s playing,
And not living it.

Day 16 – Necessary clarifications

Tidal waves are controlled
By the pull of the Moon*,

As once was my fear of
My own reflection in
Mirror-like surfaces
When I was a small child.

It used to pull me in,
On schedule, after dark,
Pale and glowing and cold.

Howling at my own face
Like a dead demon-dog,

I was never able
To recognize myself.
A clarification:
I never wanted to

Acknowledge that it was
My own face that scared me
Like a dead demon-dog.

Tides will always be caused
By the pull of the Moon,

And so happens to be
The fear of my own pale,
Listlessly glowing face.
A clarification:

The fear of what controls
The shadows on that thing.

*Tides are the rise and fall of sea levels caused by the combined effects of the gravitational forces exerted by the Moon and the Sun and the rotation of the Earth (Wikipedia)

September poetry challenge – Day 14

Re-watching Blade Runner with my best friend

Skies of ice:
I’m looking at you,
I’m looking through you…
That’s the price.

Pull her close:
She’s gonna get cold,
She’s gonna feel cold –
Now she froze.

Let us go,
Cauz we want no harm.
Cauz we mean no harm.
We didn’t know.

It’s all gone,
“Like tears in the rain”,
I heard that again,
In a film I’ve just
Watched with Jane.