Submissions by LeMuseNoir
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
When it comes to writing poetry- I am rather like Mark Twain- for I tend to "follow the cat of inclination".
An Odd Day
This morning for the first time in a long time,
Yet more frequently than I care to realize,
When I searched for the door I couldn't find it.
The ivy too thickly grown - I suppose,
Or perhaps I've lost the knack.
Not that it matters anyway
For I seem to have misplaced the key.
And, come to think on it,
The robin has been strangely quiet of late.
I wandered far and wide - searched the entire wood
Hoping to find that one tree.
You know, the one with the crude sign
That reads -"Mr. Saunders".
Funny- I thought I knew the way so...
Yet more frequently than I care to realize,
When I searched for the door I couldn't find it.
The ivy too thickly grown - I suppose,
Or perhaps I've lost the knack.
Not that it matters anyway
For I seem to have misplaced the key.
And, come to think on it,
The robin has been strangely quiet of late.
I wandered far and wide - searched the entire wood
Hoping to find that one tree.
You know, the one with the crude sign
That reads -"Mr. Saunders".
Funny- I thought I knew the way so...
113 reads
2 Comments
a selection from - RUEBI LIPZ - A Tale of Gin, Jazz, and Murder
The Ruebi Room, which could comfortably hold roughly sixty patrons, was jammed with at least eighty, for it was Satyrday night, and nearing ten p.m. - and the flotsamed and jetsamed denizens of the "low-class" end of Queensville were reaching the frenzied point of trying to find something- anything- in an attempt to distract themselves from the recognition that their lives were made of-and for- ordinariness.
The hum and buzz of the meaningless words of too many people, all competeing to say nothing at the same time, set the very air of the over-crowded room thrumming. The...
The hum and buzz of the meaningless words of too many people, all competeing to say nothing at the same time, set the very air of the over-crowded room thrumming. The...
114 reads
3 Comments
Love In Red Mesh Bags
Love is yellow
Not pink or red
Not blue like in that song
Not purple like passion
Love is yellow-
A long time ago - a different century-
Thursday night - 9ish
Supper done - books out - big test tomorrow
Econ- (arrgh!)
Suddenly there comes a tapping-
Raven?
Door on chain - face in crack
Man-
Stranger - but not mysterious
"Hi - this is going to sound weird-"
O.k.
"Is this you?"
Holds out magazine - open to "letters" page
"Wow - I didn't know about this."
"So it is...
Not pink or red
Not blue like in that song
Not purple like passion
Love is yellow-
A long time ago - a different century-
Thursday night - 9ish
Supper done - books out - big test tomorrow
Econ- (arrgh!)
Suddenly there comes a tapping-
Raven?
Door on chain - face in crack
Man-
Stranger - but not mysterious
"Hi - this is going to sound weird-"
O.k.
"Is this you?"
Holds out magazine - open to "letters" page
"Wow - I didn't know about this."
"So it is...
153 reads
8 Comments
ALL THE PROUD YOUNG HORSES
Dedication - To Kexby & Jessop for the reminder and the inspiration
Pa will be 95 come St.Patrick's-
More time behind than ahead.
"Don't buy me no green bananas!" he says.
Spends alot of time with his memory-
"Best friend a man can have at my age."
"Never talks back -and remembers everthing the same as I do."
A lot of memories of a young man working on a farm-
A young man with a strong back, a stronger will, and a pair of matched horses.
I've heard it all before of course,
Pard - the plodding one - Joe - the...
Pa will be 95 come St.Patrick's-
More time behind than ahead.
"Don't buy me no green bananas!" he says.
Spends alot of time with his memory-
"Best friend a man can have at my age."
"Never talks back -and remembers everthing the same as I do."
A lot of memories of a young man working on a farm-
A young man with a strong back, a stronger will, and a pair of matched horses.
I've heard it all before of course,
Pard - the plodding one - Joe - the...
163 reads
5 Comments
Verse Vampiric
There is a night so black, so deep, darker than is death or sleep.
Midnight hours, on and on, bereft of stars, devoid of dawn.
An endless, seamless, sable void, of nightmares born and dreams destroyed.
There is a grief that will endure beyond the tomb and sepulcher.
A mirrored hallway where will pass, unreflected in the glass
Formless ghosts of memory, in silence, towards eternity.
There is a solitude so vast it spans both the future and the past.
Of such an overwhelming scope, it stifles joy and withers hope.
Midst an endless sea, an isle of stone -...
Midnight hours, on and on, bereft of stars, devoid of dawn.
An endless, seamless, sable void, of nightmares born and dreams destroyed.
There is a grief that will endure beyond the tomb and sepulcher.
A mirrored hallway where will pass, unreflected in the glass
Formless ghosts of memory, in silence, towards eternity.
There is a solitude so vast it spans both the future and the past.
Of such an overwhelming scope, it stifles joy and withers hope.
Midst an endless sea, an isle of stone -...
199 reads
9 Comments
Songs for Deaf Ears
Oh, children of the night, how you sing-
Howl and gnash your teeth.
Trying to scream down the moon
Until your tender throats bleed.
But the moon has not moved ----
How you bloody yourselves-
Tearing at tender flesh with ink-stained fingers.
Signifying something -- but what?
Confusion? - Compunction? - Contrition?
Your melody resonates - but the lyrics escape me.
What is it you sing - of? - for? - about? -
Seek you the hidden door to Midian?
Long for sinister transubstantiation,
The communion of the damned,
Hemlock cup - the...
Howl and gnash your teeth.
Trying to scream down the moon
Until your tender throats bleed.
But the moon has not moved ----
How you bloody yourselves-
Tearing at tender flesh with ink-stained fingers.
Signifying something -- but what?
Confusion? - Compunction? - Contrition?
Your melody resonates - but the lyrics escape me.
What is it you sing - of? - for? - about? -
Seek you the hidden door to Midian?
Long for sinister transubstantiation,
The communion of the damned,
Hemlock cup - the...
124 reads
5 Comments
Decisions - Decisions--
Shall I cast my nighted colors off,
Set aside the pleurant shroud?
Dress myself in cap and bells,
Attire my frame in motley proud?
But would those who know me best prefer
To see me thus transformed to jongleur?
Shall I be but whimsy's fool,
And full capricious so cavort?
Rather than with solemn step
And doleful march make my transport?
But, wil'st my feet not find it hard
To change funeral march to galliard?
For my play is in the final act,
Is it not too late to change the show?
To take up now the rogue Falstaff...
Set aside the pleurant shroud?
Dress myself in cap and bells,
Attire my frame in motley proud?
But would those who know me best prefer
To see me thus transformed to jongleur?
Shall I be but whimsy's fool,
And full capricious so cavort?
Rather than with solemn step
And doleful march make my transport?
But, wil'st my feet not find it hard
To change funeral march to galliard?
For my play is in the final act,
Is it not too late to change the show?
To take up now the rogue Falstaff...
124 reads
4 Comments
Just Asking
Do they still hail thee bright spirit who walks in beauty like the night?
Compare thee to a summer's day who was a phantom of delight?
Does boy still stand on burning deck whilst all around have fled?
Does there-on still my captain lie fallen cold and dead?
Does Kubli Khan in Xanadu still live in pleasure dome?
And be it ever humble is there still no place like home?
Can one wander lonely as a cloud midst crosses row on row
While daffodils and poppies there still do dance and blow?
Do'st sweet Afton yet gently flow by the road to Mandalay?
Does Sally in our...
Compare thee to a summer's day who was a phantom of delight?
Does boy still stand on burning deck whilst all around have fled?
Does there-on still my captain lie fallen cold and dead?
Does Kubli Khan in Xanadu still live in pleasure dome?
And be it ever humble is there still no place like home?
Can one wander lonely as a cloud midst crosses row on row
While daffodils and poppies there still do dance and blow?
Do'st sweet Afton yet gently flow by the road to Mandalay?
Does Sally in our...
99 reads
9 Comments
Carpe Veritas
If rhyme and time and youth were mine
And my looks more "Ganymedic"-
Then I too might well eschew
These few lines as comedic.
For youth and truth- alas- forsooth-
Are not served in equal measures.
Surging hormones and erogenous zones
Oft blind us to subtler pleasures.
Cast not then away pearls of yesterday
In favor of today's new bright bangles.
Nor heart ignore whilst you explore
That which swells and throbs and dangles.
There's one single thing to which I cling
And recite it as my credo.
There are more things...
And my looks more "Ganymedic"-
Then I too might well eschew
These few lines as comedic.
For youth and truth- alas- forsooth-
Are not served in equal measures.
Surging hormones and erogenous zones
Oft blind us to subtler pleasures.
Cast not then away pearls of yesterday
In favor of today's new bright bangles.
Nor heart ignore whilst you explore
That which swells and throbs and dangles.
There's one single thing to which I cling
And recite it as my credo.
There are more things...
148 reads
4 Comments
Lover's Lament
I grieve for the elegant darkness
The soft velvet shadows of it
The deep cool places of it
The sweet caressing feel of it
I long for its sensual quietude
Yearn for the cool expanse of its hours
Ache for the redolent sensations
Perfumed by moulder and moonlight
They have filled you with monsters
Have made of you a zoo for freaks
Where once dim silver stars kissed the lips of old gods
Now pointless pop-culture zombies wander
Where once lost wind-voices sang
Counterpointed by rustlings of bone-dry leaves
Where once sighed the...
The soft velvet shadows of it
The deep cool places of it
The sweet caressing feel of it
I long for its sensual quietude
Yearn for the cool expanse of its hours
Ache for the redolent sensations
Perfumed by moulder and moonlight
They have filled you with monsters
Have made of you a zoo for freaks
Where once dim silver stars kissed the lips of old gods
Now pointless pop-culture zombies wander
Where once lost wind-voices sang
Counterpointed by rustlings of bone-dry leaves
Where once sighed the...
163 reads
3 Comments
The Genuine Article
To rouse a nose the ruby rose
Releases redolent aromas.
Which seem to have the uncanny power
To lull women into comas.
Now they concentrate the distillate
Through chemical titration-
Place it into fancy bottles
And peddle it 'cross the nation.
None care at all for the forgotten bloom
They all prefer the fake perfume!
And so it is- or seems to be-
That while poems are made by fools like me-
You can make a fortune in perfumery!
Releases redolent aromas.
Which seem to have the uncanny power
To lull women into comas.
Now they concentrate the distillate
Through chemical titration-
Place it into fancy bottles
And peddle it 'cross the nation.
None care at all for the forgotten bloom
They all prefer the fake perfume!
And so it is- or seems to be-
That while poems are made by fools like me-
You can make a fortune in perfumery!
116 reads
5 Comments
An Ode In Praise of Erato Disguised
Pray, think you, sweet Erotic Muse
To so easily obscure and confuse?
And seek to place impediment
By feigning vestal embodiment?
True poets see through truer eyes
And are not fooled by such disguise.
Though lesser talents be thus persuaded,
I know you a Goddess consecrated.
More obvious gifts let others seek,
Curve of hip and bloom of cheek.
For I know thy true power doth lie
In smirk of lip and flash of eye.
Of more earthly pleasures let lessers rhyme,
And seek them in more "southern" clime-
Tis thy laughter...
To so easily obscure and confuse?
And seek to place impediment
By feigning vestal embodiment?
True poets see through truer eyes
And are not fooled by such disguise.
Though lesser talents be thus persuaded,
I know you a Goddess consecrated.
More obvious gifts let others seek,
Curve of hip and bloom of cheek.
For I know thy true power doth lie
In smirk of lip and flash of eye.
Of more earthly pleasures let lessers rhyme,
And seek them in more "southern" clime-
Tis thy laughter...
256 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by LeMuseNoir