Submissions by ButcherScraps
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Born under a bad sign with a blue moon in my eyes.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Aug 2014 2:10am
30th Aug 2014 2:10am
A Flask of Guts For a Throat of Sky
My snakeskin flask is oozing deep,
ablaze in a sweating chill of wet,
a trail of stone for a thirsty sky,
a swaying pouch on the breeze at ease...
my teeth in the creek, I roil in peace,
a tongue from the dirt my guts to lay
a chin of rock in the gushing swim
by the slithered coil of a crawfish cloud...
that babbling brook will sweeten my hook,
where I cut my hands on slips from grips,
a gully shine I squeeze until dark
to tear the moon from a cliffside lip...
& for every inch that I can wrench...
as dawn alights with...
ablaze in a sweating chill of wet,
a trail of stone for a thirsty sky,
a swaying pouch on the breeze at ease...
my teeth in the creek, I roil in peace,
a tongue from the dirt my guts to lay
a chin of rock in the gushing swim
by the slithered coil of a crawfish cloud...
that babbling brook will sweeten my hook,
where I cut my hands on slips from grips,
a gully shine I squeeze until dark
to tear the moon from a cliffside lip...
& for every inch that I can wrench...
as dawn alights with...
56 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Aug 2014 2:53am
23rd Aug 2014 2:53am
Ten Year Itch
I've spent
an entire decade
resting from the
previous one.
& now I'm
tired of sleep.
an entire decade
resting from the
previous one.
& now I'm
tired of sleep.
49 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
6th Aug 2014 00:56am
6th Aug 2014 00:56am
The Shape I'm In
How much I miss
to moss-in-love,
holding the mold
to gorgon-stone,
a lifetime ago, this
ancient road.
Horizons beam
my wanderlust dream:
I am dim of years
in the dandelion-blaze
with my bobcat-smarts
in field mouse-bait...
still sleek From Behind
with the Sun Going-Down
‘til morning lurks
to hone the worm…
& I (alone,
at-night,
aloof-on-hooves
& rambling for love
at the Back of Beyond),
wish-to-bite
these curious skies
with reborn eyes,
on the...
to moss-in-love,
holding the mold
to gorgon-stone,
a lifetime ago, this
ancient road.
Horizons beam
my wanderlust dream:
I am dim of years
in the dandelion-blaze
with my bobcat-smarts
in field mouse-bait...
still sleek From Behind
with the Sun Going-Down
‘til morning lurks
to hone the worm…
& I (alone,
at-night,
aloof-on-hooves
& rambling for love
at the Back of Beyond),
wish-to-bite
these curious skies
with reborn eyes,
on the...
54 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Jul 2014 2:29am
12th Jul 2014 2:29am
Crack of Light
A crawling call
is catching storm,
a lightning sword
to a throat
of sky,
a sudden snap of
electric hair...
glinting clings
the raining brief,
a lyrical death
is full of breath,
my warding shade
in watered sleep
of mammal'd ghost
& slaking green;
humidity sheens
a blue-grey torch,
a scorching piece
through the milky weep
(as shadows creep
from the curve
of your mouth,
a glissando gleans
down your spine
to dream...
my treasured...
is catching storm,
a lightning sword
to a throat
of sky,
a sudden snap of
electric hair...
glinting clings
the raining brief,
a lyrical death
is full of breath,
my warding shade
in watered sleep
of mammal'd ghost
& slaking green;
humidity sheens
a blue-grey torch,
a scorching piece
through the milky weep
(as shadows creep
from the curve
of your mouth,
a glissando gleans
down your spine
to dream...
my treasured...
68 reads
4 Comments
UPBEAT POEM
Published
9th Jun 2014 10:40pm
9th Jun 2014 10:40pm
Born To Lose, but
sometimes I win
because
I always fight.
because
I always fight.
74 reads
7 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
29th May 2014 1:37am
29th May 2014 1:37am
The Black Fire Blues
(or "The Loneliness of Evil")
I've a need to kill
on scorch or sight.
I am slave to the bind
of a grind,
a wretched excess
on two
restless legs,
a torching beat
from slow-black
strikes,
& rat biscuit-brief
on the boning grief
I am crypto-fried
in passion's ash.
I whiskey nip
to the speak
of ghosts...
peel their
pretty pink skulls
on the culling ledge
& lost in screaming pitch
is my yawning itch...
an azure moon in my eye
& luck...
I've a need to kill
on scorch or sight.
I am slave to the bind
of a grind,
a wretched excess
on two
restless legs,
a torching beat
from slow-black
strikes,
& rat biscuit-brief
on the boning grief
I am crypto-fried
in passion's ash.
I whiskey nip
to the speak
of ghosts...
peel their
pretty pink skulls
on the culling ledge
& lost in screaming pitch
is my yawning itch...
an azure moon in my eye
& luck...
82 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
3rd May 2014 2:13am
3rd May 2014 2:13am
BloodBlooms
Her midnight eyes
the rainfall by.
Pours the score
with even strikes.
Drips the glory
of my gushing stab.
Spurts the grey
a repeating shine.
These sparks
from the dark
of an open mound,
flowers that tick
my throb way ‘round.
Lays me down a
pulse of ground!
so I'll fawn the lawn
to a canopy’s dawn
where she draws me
slow &
sharp &
streaked with red.
Numbered ghouls
to a chosen few, ...
the rainfall by.
Pours the score
with even strikes.
Drips the glory
of my gushing stab.
Spurts the grey
a repeating shine.
These sparks
from the dark
of an open mound,
flowers that tick
my throb way ‘round.
Lays me down a
pulse of ground!
so I'll fawn the lawn
to a canopy’s dawn
where she draws me
slow &
sharp &
streaked with red.
Numbered ghouls
to a chosen few, ...
87 reads
1 Comment
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
23rd Apr 2014 1:31am
23rd Apr 2014 1:31am
Follow the Beam
Come to me
& see!
wherein the black
is our beam,
& this grass is brass
on a wild brown
musk of dusk
at play:
a starlit daze
along the salty way,
a stench on the wind
is waving despair...
a volatile spark
on sight unseen
from the open wounds
of a nightingale’s pall...
& pale from the crack
comes a hardened tack...
these drawn-down-drips
to dawn on stone
with that viper's gaze
in gravelly grey.
This Whiskey Jack
from a cul-de-sac
has tasted the lash...
& see!
wherein the black
is our beam,
& this grass is brass
on a wild brown
musk of dusk
at play:
a starlit daze
along the salty way,
a stench on the wind
is waving despair...
a volatile spark
on sight unseen
from the open wounds
of a nightingale’s pall...
& pale from the crack
comes a hardened tack...
these drawn-down-drips
to dawn on stone
with that viper's gaze
in gravelly grey.
This Whiskey Jack
from a cul-de-sac
has tasted the lash...
84 reads
1 Comment
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
10th Apr 2014 11:10pm
10th Apr 2014 11:10pm
Of the Sun
(one of my favorite older poems)
Brutal, this is
creating beauty
wounds to golden silence,
grave adventure
& unheard death:
a voice cut short
by shrinking day.
Engulfed in lunar moan,
sky-gaped lines
howl the quiet of the glow
insufferable,
remarkable:
a soul that charges
for a stone
or standstill.
Lungs that bloat
through plough & smoke
or lifting rocks
with stomach knots.
Beauty, this is
the scar & the song
of phoenix'd rising,
the light & the climb...
Brutal, this is
creating beauty
wounds to golden silence,
grave adventure
& unheard death:
a voice cut short
by shrinking day.
Engulfed in lunar moan,
sky-gaped lines
howl the quiet of the glow
insufferable,
remarkable:
a soul that charges
for a stone
or standstill.
Lungs that bloat
through plough & smoke
or lifting rocks
with stomach knots.
Beauty, this is
the scar & the song
of phoenix'd rising,
the light & the climb...
100 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
10th Apr 2014 2:58am
10th Apr 2014 2:58am
Dirtshirt
(older poem)
Rusted nails
of filth & art -
crust in shove
for earthen shake...
the covered knees
of toll & breach...
constellations
out to lunch.
This time is
choice & motion...
brooding hills
of wound & pride...
lackluster maze
of stone & sloth.
A salty slice
of yesteryear,
a dry sea
of dirt & feeding.
Dirty spike
of filth & heart,
rest in piece
of earth & wake...
Rusted nails
of filth & art -
crust in shove
for earthen shake...
the covered knees
of toll & breach...
constellations
out to lunch.
This time is
choice & motion...
brooding hills
of wound & pride...
lackluster maze
of stone & sloth.
A salty slice
of yesteryear,
a dry sea
of dirt & feeding.
Dirty spike
of filth & heart,
rest in piece
of earth & wake...
79 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
10th Apr 2014 2:57am
10th Apr 2014 2:57am
Standstill
(older poem)
I am not sure
about all this
moving on
that waits the time
stand still & forgets
'til dawn.
This crypt
of shuddered rip
from the light & run
through haze of lunch
on snake & Sun.
Evening breeze
& soothing hum,
stone to wretch
the offered apple
& pray.
On the gorge a cross
to break for day.
I do not know
how I can
stand still:
retired to the wind
in movement, calm.
...
I am not sure
about all this
moving on
that waits the time
stand still & forgets
'til dawn.
This crypt
of shuddered rip
from the light & run
through haze of lunch
on snake & Sun.
Evening breeze
& soothing hum,
stone to wretch
the offered apple
& pray.
On the gorge a cross
to break for day.
I do not know
how I can
stand still:
retired to the wind
in movement, calm.
...
65 reads
0 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
5th Apr 2014 00:25am
5th Apr 2014 00:25am
Smoking In Orgasms
(or "Season of the Machete")
Conflagration:
a crawling storm
is a dawning form
on the path-gone-mad
from nature's wrath,
where I puncture with rain
the battered cairns
of a wayward place.
& I taste the smoke
of a moaning moon,
peaked & seeking
a shrieking pale
by the flailing abyss
of a banshee lust.
(This ignites my stones
with a night-trail
diligence
nicking lines.)
An inferno wakes
from an unplumbed space.
I hedge the henge
on...
Conflagration:
a crawling storm
is a dawning form
on the path-gone-mad
from nature's wrath,
where I puncture with rain
the battered cairns
of a wayward place.
& I taste the smoke
of a moaning moon,
peaked & seeking
a shrieking pale
by the flailing abyss
of a banshee lust.
(This ignites my stones
with a night-trail
diligence
nicking lines.)
An inferno wakes
from an unplumbed space.
I hedge the henge
on...
362 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ButcherScraps