LPiA Nov27
#1
Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 27

Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for the month of November. 

Topic : Write a poem about or inspired by a toy.
Form : Any
Line requirements: Eight or more.

Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish. 

Questions?
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#2
Baptist school: the elderly teacher
gestures to her childhood with a joke
that glides above the Third Graders' heads.
Believing they were balloons, she blew
condoms to sausages stuffed with air
and crossed swords with her brothers.

Where is she now? Below the earth
or, over its surface, ash dispersed,
like her grown-up wards who won't respond
to emails with subject "Reunion"?
Brothers, sisters, and in-betweeners
turned nostalgic, schismatic, demonic---

Recall the pyres of Yu-gi-oh cards,
the hymnals barely bound by tape,
Manila paper prayer requests,
and Beyblade shredders of blintzy skin.
Recall the Holy Spirit's blaze
over the jokers, the bullies, the gays---

Inevitably her makeshift toys would pop
whether she played with them or not.
Reply
#3
Lauren was the bread winner.
So many couldn't stand him,
The annoying things he'd say
And do about younger girls
A month ago he woke up
A huge tumor in his leg
Now he's dead and her two sons
Will be playing with different toys
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
Reply
#4
Acorn Car


Years ago beneath
an oak tree out beside my driveway
moss and dead grass formed
a sort of nest.  In it lay
a good-sized plastic car
bright red and not
entirely cartoon-featured.
It looked in good shape, almost new
and I left it there, joking,
maybe it will grow up
into a real one.

About a dozen years later
my neighbors’ son turned sixteen
or anyway got a job
and immediately bought
a bright red pickup truck
which developed a crumpled fender
in about a week - such
are teenage boys.

I wonder sometimes what happened
to that toy car
nestled beneath its oak.
Maybe I know.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
Reply
#5
The Flavian Amphitheater 
a toy set that bleeds,
with its colossal statue of the sun
to greet the spectators who crowd the seats to see 
crucified criminals devoured by wild beasts, 
Amazons fighting lions, beast-fighters 
tossed by Ethiopian bulls,
elephants warring with rhinoceroses,
a convict Icarus set on fire and flung high 
into the sky of the arena, 
to crash into an artificial sea,
a blackmailer dressed as Orpheus
playing a lyre among the beasts
until torn apart by a ravenous bear,
a living Pasiphae in congress 
with a Cretan bull.

During breaks the audience,
refreshed by a spray of perfumed water,
await the next round of cruelty and bravery
myths brought life with the bodies
of the condemned, children of Empire, 
whose hearts and minds
bend to an Emperor’s entertainments.
Reply
#6
Some things
aren't meant
to play with:
like fire,
or a heart.

I never much
liked toys,
although
I liked
their parts.
Reply
#7
A toy, did you say?
I heard Troy.
Ah yes, I could write a poem about Troy.
Like how it's a boat hop away
from Canakkale
where they still quite haven't heard of your bok choy.
And there, across the sea,
the Dardanelles,
lies Gallipoli,
the old 'ells bells,
where the dinkum Aussies go oi oi oi oi -
since the dead are now history
with their mustard gas all blistery
ora possiamo bevere uno latte soy.
Oh, I could write still more poems on Troy.







*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elaan_of_Troyius
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