Submissions by 7wednesdays
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I love poetry among many other things in life and I simply hope to contribute something to it! I can at least die trying and have fun in the process.
I Pity Your Highness
So you think you're so high
with your view of the sky,
squishing everyone else
under the weight of your penthouse.
Oh how your mightiness oozes!
And every night in my bed--
after reading Wall Street's latest--
I stare up at the ceiling
and pray
to the most recently trending
deity that one glorious day
I will share in your way.
You already assumed this of course.
Your omniscience is revered by all.
It is told in story-books
to impressionable children, naive and small;
between savouring his boogers
and enjoying the...
with your view of the sky,
squishing everyone else
under the weight of your penthouse.
Oh how your mightiness oozes!
And every night in my bed--
after reading Wall Street's latest--
I stare up at the ceiling
and pray
to the most recently trending
deity that one glorious day
I will share in your way.
You already assumed this of course.
Your omniscience is revered by all.
It is told in story-books
to impressionable children, naive and small;
between savouring his boogers
and enjoying the...
99 reads
0 Comments
Communication Deterioration
Click click click
lick the seal
envelopes don't puke
but they can if they're given no other
stricken lingering loop holes
to tickle tackle
a football foot massage train
chain hit that shit smack ow cow
cat's tail that I tied to a chair with my hair
a fur ball it puked
I barfed you smell
hell fire brimstone
ogre fart broke my heart
you shart in an airport stall
hall ball lol l o l
letters is are not words
are is not absurd.
lick the seal
envelopes don't puke
but they can if they're given no other
stricken lingering loop holes
to tickle tackle
a football foot massage train
chain hit that shit smack ow cow
cat's tail that I tied to a chair with my hair
a fur ball it puked
I barfed you smell
hell fire brimstone
ogre fart broke my heart
you shart in an airport stall
hall ball lol l o l
letters is are not words
are is not absurd.
78 reads
0 Comments
Seemingly Unattainable
As my fingers graze
and my senses just begin to grasp...
It disappears
into the haze.
I search for it, and in a daze
I spot it--
a blur in my peripheral...
And then it is lost in the maze.
My eyes glaze,
wet with longing
and lack of sleep.
I feel myself spiraling into a delirious craze.
The tide has turned.
I clutch now
that of which with desire I had oft burned.
I want it not, 'twas merely a phase,
a trick of the mind, no substance, just glaze.
and my senses just begin to grasp...
It disappears
into the haze.
I search for it, and in a daze
I spot it--
a blur in my peripheral...
And then it is lost in the maze.
My eyes glaze,
wet with longing
and lack of sleep.
I feel myself spiraling into a delirious craze.
The tide has turned.
I clutch now
that of which with desire I had oft burned.
I want it not, 'twas merely a phase,
a trick of the mind, no substance, just glaze.
104 reads
2 Comments
she is
floating sinking
gripping breaking
she rises above the canopy
is the canopy
of igneous of quartz
of lava of flesh
the all-encompassing centrifical force
pushing down pulling up
swiveling into swirling away
away into the abyss
disintegrating into chaos
dissolving into calm
she floats she falls
she sinks she sings
she fondles flowers with her tongue
and blows a baby bird from the bloom
"circles are everywhere"
she sings she swoons she croons
"our circles encircle us all"
gripping breaking
she rises above the canopy
is the canopy
of igneous of quartz
of lava of flesh
the all-encompassing centrifical force
pushing down pulling up
swiveling into swirling away
away into the abyss
disintegrating into chaos
dissolving into calm
she floats she falls
she sinks she sings
she fondles flowers with her tongue
and blows a baby bird from the bloom
"circles are everywhere"
she sings she swoons she croons
"our circles encircle us all"
126 reads
1 Comment
How I wish I could camp...
Tossing and turning--
my body in this sleeping bag.
Whimpering and screaming--
my bladder in this body.
Howling and moaning--
the wicked wind outside of this tent.
How silly of me to forget!
I have a magic pee stick!
I fill my pee bottle and sleep sound with my dick.
my body in this sleeping bag.
Whimpering and screaming--
my bladder in this body.
Howling and moaning--
the wicked wind outside of this tent.
How silly of me to forget!
I have a magic pee stick!
I fill my pee bottle and sleep sound with my dick.
100 reads
0 Comments
Intent of a Black Cat
If ever
I was a black cat
I would mess with your mind
I'd meander the alleyways
with a melancholy glare
and an icy surreptitious stare
I'd swirl the senses
with your superstitions
and my sinister stealth
You would be increasingly paranoid
over the fate of your health
Oh yes
as a black cat
I would dare
to unfurl your emotions
and ensnare
your darkest despair
With just my black coat
and penetrating pupils
I watch with pleasure
as you come undone
and purrrrr
I was a black cat
I would mess with your mind
I'd meander the alleyways
with a melancholy glare
and an icy surreptitious stare
I'd swirl the senses
with your superstitions
and my sinister stealth
You would be increasingly paranoid
over the fate of your health
Oh yes
as a black cat
I would dare
to unfurl your emotions
and ensnare
your darkest despair
With just my black coat
and penetrating pupils
I watch with pleasure
as you come undone
and purrrrr
124 reads
4 Comments
Before Breakfast
Slugs meet their ends
as the morning stretches its wings.
The flowers survive
at the expense of said bug.
It's just you and I
with the salt and morning breeze.
Killing and loving.
Breaking and bonding.
Everyone is asleep,
but we make mini-pancakes
on the presumption
that they will wake.
Everyday is a new day:
A new slew of slugs will die,
another flower will multiply.
And all that really matters
is you and I.
Just the two of us
and the morning haze,
the shaker of salt,
and...
as the morning stretches its wings.
The flowers survive
at the expense of said bug.
It's just you and I
with the salt and morning breeze.
Killing and loving.
Breaking and bonding.
Everyone is asleep,
but we make mini-pancakes
on the presumption
that they will wake.
Everyday is a new day:
A new slew of slugs will die,
another flower will multiply.
And all that really matters
is you and I.
Just the two of us
and the morning haze,
the shaker of salt,
and...
109 reads
1 Comment
Prospects
"a promise that the rock of the world was founded securely on a fairy's wing"
~F Scott Fitzgerald
I thrive in knowledge
and cannot cease to think.
Yet my favorite realm
is that of which
I cannot know.
The fleeting mystique--
the glow--
of what was the future
is the present
and will be the past.
It has already occurred
over and over
again and again:
The future has fled
into the tomb of the past.
How I longed to see...
and then it has gone,
lost and deeply covered,
into the already...
~F Scott Fitzgerald
I thrive in knowledge
and cannot cease to think.
Yet my favorite realm
is that of which
I cannot know.
The fleeting mystique--
the glow--
of what was the future
is the present
and will be the past.
It has already occurred
over and over
again and again:
The future has fled
into the tomb of the past.
How I longed to see...
and then it has gone,
lost and deeply covered,
into the already...
86 reads
0 Comments
El elefante tiene que comer
Elefantes y tigres juegan
conmigo.
Cierro los ojos
y abro el brazo.
Sangre corre arriba y abajo
los suelos sucios.
Mis huesos estaban muy blanco,
pero hay un serpente verde hoy en lugar--
el brazo es verde tambien.
Escuchen
Escuchen
Escuchen al elefante canta dulcemente.
Corran
Siempre corran lejos desde aquí.
El elefante tiene que
comer el tigre
y el llora, llora, llora;
mientras cae en la sangre,
el elefante llora
"Demasiado mucho!
No mas!
No puedo!"
Mas! Mas! Mas!
El mundo grita...
conmigo.
Cierro los ojos
y abro el brazo.
Sangre corre arriba y abajo
los suelos sucios.
Mis huesos estaban muy blanco,
pero hay un serpente verde hoy en lugar--
el brazo es verde tambien.
Escuchen
Escuchen
Escuchen al elefante canta dulcemente.
Corran
Siempre corran lejos desde aquí.
El elefante tiene que
comer el tigre
y el llora, llora, llora;
mientras cae en la sangre,
el elefante llora
"Demasiado mucho!
No mas!
No puedo!"
Mas! Mas! Mas!
El mundo grita...
95 reads
1 Comment
Tracing Train Tracks
We adventure along windy mountain roads.
Tracing train tracks and
placing pennies peculiarly,
we flatten the frozen faces.
Deeper into the roads,
we visit a time predating our own existence.
Frankie
Aggressor? Victim!
History may say
that she took his blooming days away
and left him no time to God to pray.
But perhaps,
it is he who took her,
rather than she who took his,
days away
on that dark and doleful night
when he beat her body out of right.
I thrive in experiencing these
old historic sites.
Only we--...
Tracing train tracks and
placing pennies peculiarly,
we flatten the frozen faces.
Deeper into the roads,
we visit a time predating our own existence.
Frankie
Aggressor? Victim!
History may say
that she took his blooming days away
and left him no time to God to pray.
But perhaps,
it is he who took her,
rather than she who took his,
days away
on that dark and doleful night
when he beat her body out of right.
I thrive in experiencing these
old historic sites.
Only we--...
127 reads
1 Comment
Ode to a Molting Lamb
Wrapped in clouds of existential fluff,
you wonder
whether to chase the butterfly,
or ponder
what ever happened to that locke--
that dread-- which passed you by.
Where from your being did it first depart?
Not Soul, nor Heart.
For if from there it had been ripped,
the tearing would inflict great pain.
Nose: Sensitive cartlidge;
Paw: Lack of fur;
Belly: Ticklish weakness there to blame;
Tail, Tail . . .
O wicked, sinful, conniving Tail!
Circles, circles, circles, circles;
again, again
satanic, demon Tail decieves....
you wonder
whether to chase the butterfly,
or ponder
what ever happened to that locke--
that dread-- which passed you by.
Where from your being did it first depart?
Not Soul, nor Heart.
For if from there it had been ripped,
the tearing would inflict great pain.
Nose: Sensitive cartlidge;
Paw: Lack of fur;
Belly: Ticklish weakness there to blame;
Tail, Tail . . .
O wicked, sinful, conniving Tail!
Circles, circles, circles, circles;
again, again
satanic, demon Tail decieves....
77 reads
0 Comments
Romantic Writer's Block
Forest, ocean, hill, and dale
over the mountain for poetic rhymes.
Sun and moon to no avail;
they have been used too many times.
Damned greed poets never shed a thought
for their posterity.
The riveting mystique of the forest
envelopes your soul . . .
Superfluously poetic! I feel the need
to purge my guts--
the way all of these trees
vomet leaves, berries, and nuts!
Though full of fairies, berries, cherries, and canaries--
highly eligible topics for poetry--
the only untapped source
left in these woods
is the fornicating...
over the mountain for poetic rhymes.
Sun and moon to no avail;
they have been used too many times.
Damned greed poets never shed a thought
for their posterity.
The riveting mystique of the forest
envelopes your soul . . .
Superfluously poetic! I feel the need
to purge my guts--
the way all of these trees
vomet leaves, berries, and nuts!
Though full of fairies, berries, cherries, and canaries--
highly eligible topics for poetry--
the only untapped source
left in these woods
is the fornicating...
75 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by 7wednesdays