NaPM 13 April 2022

[RiverNotch]

Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month 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 National Poetry Month.

Topic: Write a poem involving a treacherous kiss.

Form: Any

Line Requirement: At least 4

[dukealien]

A Little Palsy


Back in the nineteenth century
a man would say about accomplishing
some trivial task, it would be
“Easy as kiss my hand.”

Meaning obviously, what could be simpler
requiring less dexterity
than bringing palm to lips–
not like patting one’s self
on the head, which is out of sight.

But now, but now my hand can’t find
the home row on my keyboard or avoid
the knife as I cut supper vegetables...
it’s age, this sneaking, growing
treason of the hand I never thought
to kiss while it still loved me.

[Mark A Becker]

You stopped all the words
coming to my lips;

I let down my guard,
disarmed by your kiss.

You helped guide my hand,
hitching up your dress,

took me deep inside
with a sweet caress,

held on for the ride-
fucking treacherous.

[CRNDLSM]

Gene Simmons called The Police
when Alice Cooper's disco
phase toured the nothern English
cities because Sting offered
lodgings overnight and the
Sunday crossword puzzle clue
to thirteen down was Gene golf
and you know all those rock stars knew each other.

[Semicircle]

Passing through skin
navigating teeth.

Twined in a slimy wrestle
to you, myself, I bequeeth.

[RiverNotch]

Mornings are an imitation
of a kiss. One day you think it's loving,
the way the sunlight caresses your cheeks
to wake you up, another day

you check your phone and you just missed
a conversation with someone you like,
you read the news and someone that you know
(or think you know) just passed away,

or again bombs fell
on some distant city you've never visited
but grown attached to due to your morning routine
of checking your phone and reading the news---

either way, the sun
moves indifferently to the apex of its arc
in the sky, the clouds roll under it
like ocean waves, and what do you know? It's afternoon

already. Kind or treacherous, the kiss
was just an imitation: lips placed
gently, dryly, on skin
for the benefit of some absent crowd.

[TranquillityBase]

A wise serpent
and a devouring kiss
whispering to the innocent
at eye level
with the ancient optimism of deceit.