April 12 NaPoMo 2021
#1
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.

NaPM April 12, 2021

Topic: write a 13 line poem about the number 13 somehow

Form: any

Line Requirement: 13

A seasoned soul, the
King looked at his
Queen.  She whispered,
'Jack, the last time we had like this was
10 years ago.'
'9,' he replied, 'and we 
ate all we could
7 days a week.  The 
6 was great, as well.' She smiled back at him. At 
5 o clock they were boarding LA
FORTUNA, 
3 nights at sea
to be one.
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
Reply
#2
13 doesn’t scare me,
all numbers scare me,
since I was publicly shamed at the chalkboard
because I couldn’t do long division.

But among the lesser numbers
I have my friends, 
especially 3,6, and 9.
8 is bad luck, a perverse holdover
from a youthful obsession with numerology.

0 and 1 seem mystic
in spite of their supposed endlessness
in our lives, 2 is Edenville,
4, 5, and 7: familiar but distrusted decimals.
"Poetry is the rhythmic, inevitably narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision."  Dylan Thomas
Reply
#3
The Evolution of Evil

Maundy Thursday, it’s claimed
included 13 people in the Upper Room
for the Last Supper. But ever since
that 13th guy was identified
as Judas,the Betrayer, and since
He died on Good Friday, if Friday
fell on the 13th, it meant bad luck.

Ever since Eve, women have been
blamed for every manner of ills,
so it didn’t take long for evil notions
to arise, as each year women have 13
menstrual cycles. All women came under
suspicion, except for the Virgin Mary.
Reply
#4
Not so Odd


Thirteen has an awful reputation
just one over human quantities--
fingers plus one tally each for feet.
Though not divisible in equal piles
it’s parent to so much:
four suits of cards each numbering
our magic integer; their total fifty-two
exactly equals count of weeks per year
factored with four seasons
each precisely thirteen weeks, and mystic most
multiplied by ur-prime three
begets eternal thirty-nine...
age of Jack Benny.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
Reply
#5
Thirteen ways to look at a first kiss


I
Sweaty under street lamps,
an innocent cheek
caught and chased to red.

II
Concrete cold
cuddled behind H Block
strong perfume, pungent
under coats.

III
Rough wood on back-alley
gates, summers gone dark
outside the kitchen lights.
Teeth meet, cold hands
warm under jumpers.

IV
Drunken clink of milk bottles
kicked on a scrubbed clean step,
leaning in to press wild flowers.

V
Running home late,
taller than the houses
clearing the garden gate
with one leap and no sleep.

VI
As quiet as cushioned quilt
through grounded windows,
we slip together, muffled
by television laughter
coming from the next room.

VII
Two thin straws
in a glass coke bottle,
sharing crisps
on worn down step.

VIII
Damp in the long grass
sipping dew drops
from each others skin.

IX
Rain soaked in a limestone cave
summer shorts and tee shirts
hair dripping like the walls,
lips shiver into warmth.

X
Cigarette smoke chokes
on tobacco bits and coughs
face first with a little spit.

XI
Over grown weeds
behind the Navy cadets hall,
opening clams for pearls,
swallowing your sound.

XII
A festival tent with black hair
and mud boots, loose jumpers
daubed with field straw
and hot morning headaches.

XIII
The matted scent of newly born
soft and translucent,
careful not to crush,
I close my eyes over your gaze.

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
Reply
#6
There's no number 13
on my parents' street,

but Jean and Clive of 11
and 15's Mike and Sandra
swear there's something
between their adjoining walls --

the sound of a young family
parents calling
children laughing
dog barking...

Jean says
it's a sort of energy
but no one can really explain.
Reply
#7
(04-13-2021, 06:22 AM)Leaf Wrote:  There's no number 13
on my parents' street,

but Jean and Clive of 11
and 15's Mike and Sandra
swear there's something
between their adjoining walls --

the sound of a young family
parents calling
children laughing
dog barking...

Jean says
it's a sort of energy
but no one can really explain.

Marvelous, this one.  Sister liked it, too.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
Reply
#8
Wow; thanks, dukealien and sister. I enjoyed writing it  Smile
All best,
Leaf
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