Submissions by Dulcea
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
~~ esoteric microcosm of inspired vibrations ~~
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
19th Jul 2014 8:47pm
19th Jul 2014 8:47pm
Music For All Mankind
Very few things have held a significance throughout human history like that of music. Music is interwoven with virtually every aspect of human existence. It extends it’s reach through both the profound and the profane. Music pervades every culture and era of mankind. Though there are innumerable classifications and genres in the wide world of musical sound, two tend to stand out in great contrast: popular music and art music. Although popular music tends to dominate the more common conception of songs and songwriting, it is art music that should be enjoyed, explored and embraced for the...
42 reads
0 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
22nd May 2014 5:35pm
22nd May 2014 5:35pm
"To Choose To Dream"
Inspired by actual photograph of woman plunging to her death, from a New York City hotel in 1942. Photo by Russel Sorgi. (Can't post without the photo, or it makes no sense.) *
What an awesome scene it was to look upon. The magnificent New York City Skyline was a monument to opportunity and adventure that reached for the sky. The glorious view before her reminded her of why she had made the journey in the first place. From her thirtieth-floor balcony of the Genesee Hotel, Mary could clearly hear her thoughts for the first time in a long time. The breeze seemed louder...
What an awesome scene it was to look upon. The magnificent New York City Skyline was a monument to opportunity and adventure that reached for the sky. The glorious view before her reminded her of why she had made the journey in the first place. From her thirtieth-floor balcony of the Genesee Hotel, Mary could clearly hear her thoughts for the first time in a long time. The breeze seemed louder...
40 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Mar 2014 6:08am
30th Mar 2014 6:08am
"Moonlit Inspiration"©
Drifting clouds pass the moon
as the breath of a muse
made visible to you
by the chill of winter skies.
Illuminated by our common flame
which stays stowed away ‘til day.
Reflections of phantom rays.
The light may offer comfort
but the darkness conjures dreams.
Nothing’s as it seems.
Such things appeal to me.
A pervading thirst
that must tenderly
consume obscurities.
Drink deep, my friend.
Such allures
more compelling & pure
than a sip of sweet ambrosia,
or all the pharaohs’ gold.
Take in the sky …...
as the breath of a muse
made visible to you
by the chill of winter skies.
Illuminated by our common flame
which stays stowed away ‘til day.
Reflections of phantom rays.
The light may offer comfort
but the darkness conjures dreams.
Nothing’s as it seems.
Such things appeal to me.
A pervading thirst
that must tenderly
consume obscurities.
Drink deep, my friend.
Such allures
more compelling & pure
than a sip of sweet ambrosia,
or all the pharaohs’ gold.
Take in the sky …...
61 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
20th Jan 2014 5:35am
20th Jan 2014 5:35am
Inner Current (pt. 2 The Sea)
Diving through the waves.
Flowing.
Personal.
Innate.
Currents of
inner galaxies.
Calm waters may be clear.,
but even the most
deep & serene
may harbor
unfathomable
darkness.
Scenes few
will ever know.
Under encompassing stress,
plunging to great depths.
Surroundings
bearing down.
Forcing focus within.
Sinking.
Sinking.
Adapt
or be crushed.
To swim is a must.
Every breath will get
it's proper value.
In an instant,
behold truth.
Gently carried
through the...
Flowing.
Personal.
Innate.
Currents of
inner galaxies.
Calm waters may be clear.,
but even the most
deep & serene
may harbor
unfathomable
darkness.
Scenes few
will ever know.
Under encompassing stress,
plunging to great depths.
Surroundings
bearing down.
Forcing focus within.
Sinking.
Sinking.
Adapt
or be crushed.
To swim is a must.
Every breath will get
it's proper value.
In an instant,
behold truth.
Gently carried
through the...
69 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Dec 2013 5:24am
21st Dec 2013 5:24am
(untitled)
The path suddenly narrows,
as it is revealed,
so clearly
that unconditional love
is the road
to my personal hell.
Like a fool,
I skipped it merrily,
unaware that my feet
had begun to bleed
&
oblivious to the peril,
I kept on,
ignorantly steadfast.
I can’t tell
the difference
between road rage
and heartbreak
anymore.
How
could such a
straight path
get me
so lost?
as it is revealed,
so clearly
that unconditional love
is the road
to my personal hell.
Like a fool,
I skipped it merrily,
unaware that my feet
had begun to bleed
&
oblivious to the peril,
I kept on,
ignorantly steadfast.
I can’t tell
the difference
between road rage
and heartbreak
anymore.
How
could such a
straight path
get me
so lost?
67 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Nov 2013 5:18pm
21st Nov 2013 5:18pm
Little Black Moth
Of intrinsic peculiarity,
little back moth,
(through triangles)
fluttering softly.
Untethered & free.
Obeying only
instinct & the breeze.
(so transitory)
Wherever I go is home,
even if it's nowhere I know
little back moth,
(through triangles)
fluttering softly.
Untethered & free.
Obeying only
instinct & the breeze.
(so transitory)
Wherever I go is home,
even if it's nowhere I know
46 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
23rd Sep 2013 3:35am
23rd Sep 2013 3:35am
Shadows of Fear
Her feet
could hardly
keep up
with her
heartbeat.
Shadows played
their fear-inducing
games.
Every gust
of wind,
the sudden
choking hand
of the unknown -
grasping her throat,
seizing her breath.
She may as well
have been blind,
as she couldn’t
see a thing,
and every gust
of wind
assumed
to generate
from tattered
demon wings,
whose maleficent motions
caused a crawling
of her skin.
In foolishness
& haste,
I...
could hardly
keep up
with her
heartbeat.
Shadows played
their fear-inducing
games.
Every gust
of wind,
the sudden
choking hand
of the unknown -
grasping her throat,
seizing her breath.
She may as well
have been blind,
as she couldn’t
see a thing,
and every gust
of wind
assumed
to generate
from tattered
demon wings,
whose maleficent motions
caused a crawling
of her skin.
In foolishness
& haste,
I...
111 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
7th Sep 2013 7:52am
7th Sep 2013 7:52am
Midnight Hour of Power
The midnight clock
Levitated upon
The surreal vigor of
The Great Voice,
Discovered accidentally.
Landmarks staked mentally.
Marked within me.
Muscle memory.
Lifted gently.
Levitated upon
The surreal vigor of
The Great Voice,
Discovered accidentally.
Landmarks staked mentally.
Marked within me.
Muscle memory.
Lifted gently.
57 reads
3 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
4th Sep 2013 3:06am
4th Sep 2013 3:06am
Worlds of Wonder
May mesmerizing moon-wine
loosen your lips.
Important, my journey.
Demanding, my quest.
"Detail, I need them quick!"
The things you can hear with a curious ear.
You'd better heed what you hear!
Careful listenings
of cautious whisperings
in haunts of travellers
from lands unknown.
Guided by megalith stones
to silver fountains
and sacred bones.
Lotuses exposed
and tethered with a lucid rope.
Within sunset cites
(the shimmering mirage)
you'd be lucky to awake.
Torch-lit paths...
loosen your lips.
Important, my journey.
Demanding, my quest.
"Detail, I need them quick!"
The things you can hear with a curious ear.
You'd better heed what you hear!
Careful listenings
of cautious whisperings
in haunts of travellers
from lands unknown.
Guided by megalith stones
to silver fountains
and sacred bones.
Lotuses exposed
and tethered with a lucid rope.
Within sunset cites
(the shimmering mirage)
you'd be lucky to awake.
Torch-lit paths...
91 reads
5 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
30th Aug 2013 5:46pm
30th Aug 2013 5:46pm
Sentiments Towards the Non-Sentimental
The more I get to know certain people, the more I realize I never really knew them.
I watch as those who I once considered “good but somewhat distraught” steal, betray, lie, and break the hearts of others with which I’ve made an acquaintance - who I consider friends. But do I really have any friends? Would any of them ever drop anything for my sake? Is there anything in this world for which they find self-sacrifice worthy? Today’s average people have so little that they live or would die for. Sure, I may be inconsequential to them (I can deal. I grow indifferent), but it seems to me...
I watch as those who I once considered “good but somewhat distraught” steal, betray, lie, and break the hearts of others with which I’ve made an acquaintance - who I consider friends. But do I really have any friends? Would any of them ever drop anything for my sake? Is there anything in this world for which they find self-sacrifice worthy? Today’s average people have so little that they live or would die for. Sure, I may be inconsequential to them (I can deal. I grow indifferent), but it seems to me...
79 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
29th Aug 2013 3:52am
29th Aug 2013 3:52am
Foreshadows of Fall
Chilled bare feet
on midnight porches.
Citronella oil torches.
Bonfire ablaze.
Mazes of maise.
The brisk embrace.
The brief caress
foreshadows
bountiful hues
of pleasant
autumn days.
------------------------------------------------------
entry in competition "the ending of summer beginning of fall"
on midnight porches.
Citronella oil torches.
Bonfire ablaze.
Mazes of maise.
The brisk embrace.
The brief caress
foreshadows
bountiful hues
of pleasant
autumn days.
------------------------------------------------------
entry in competition "the ending of summer beginning of fall"
61 reads
3 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
28th Aug 2013 8:36pm
28th Aug 2013 8:36pm
In the Center, Is Man
Heaven & Hell are merely varying tunes.
Dissonance for the dissidents.
Conducting agony & doom.
Passionate.
Diligent.
Scrupulous.
Hidden in attics
of incredulous idealists.
&
You've wisely left soom room
to accommodate the shifting weight
of things taken past tombs;
Through uppermost gates
where spiraling
infinite gardens bloom.
Trees
whose leaves
can reach
the Firmament
must have
infernal
roots.
Dissonance for the dissidents.
Conducting agony & doom.
Passionate.
Diligent.
Scrupulous.
Hidden in attics
of incredulous idealists.
&
You've wisely left soom room
to accommodate the shifting weight
of things taken past tombs;
Through uppermost gates
where spiraling
infinite gardens bloom.
Trees
whose leaves
can reach
the Firmament
must have
infernal
roots.
63 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Dulcea