Submissions by beautiful_accident
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I play in the macabre, the erotic, the taboo.. but it's just play for the most part. I don't beat or kill people or puppies in my spare time.
my delicate condition
My gynecologist called;
I tested positive
Surgery is scheduled for 3:00 tomorrow
emergency hysterectomy
the condition may just be fatal:
I have a republican in my uterus.
It all started with a drink
doesn't it always?
tainted koolaid tastes so good
made family values go right down
usually I choke on their propaganda
he didn't use a condom--
trying to outlaw birth control, you know
said I shouldn't have spread my legs to start
I confuse the issue saying he forced himself in
but what does my pretty female mind know
at...
I tested positive
Surgery is scheduled for 3:00 tomorrow
emergency hysterectomy
the condition may just be fatal:
I have a republican in my uterus.
It all started with a drink
doesn't it always?
tainted koolaid tastes so good
made family values go right down
usually I choke on their propaganda
he didn't use a condom--
trying to outlaw birth control, you know
said I shouldn't have spread my legs to start
I confuse the issue saying he forced himself in
but what does my pretty female mind know
at...
239 reads
6 Comments
being my father's son
My father didn't have sons
He had daughters stuffed into the role
A size 8 foot in a size 5 shoe
And he was a "man's man"
Spent the winter holding a shotgun
Summer carrying a fishing pole
So it's no wonder that one day
I'd be carrying my own 12 gauge
Down the river in zero degree weather
Freezing my honorary balls off.
I was hunched
under this
thin piece of camo nylon
called a "duck blind"
blowing on my fingers
not giving a thought to what would happen
if a duck actually came into sight
and I had to...
He had daughters stuffed into the role
A size 8 foot in a size 5 shoe
And he was a "man's man"
Spent the winter holding a shotgun
Summer carrying a fishing pole
So it's no wonder that one day
I'd be carrying my own 12 gauge
Down the river in zero degree weather
Freezing my honorary balls off.
I was hunched
under this
thin piece of camo nylon
called a "duck blind"
blowing on my fingers
not giving a thought to what would happen
if a duck actually came into sight
and I had to...
192 reads
6 Comments
Hell for Sarah Smith
No one read the obituaries today
If they had, they'd see
Sarah Smith, mother of none
Not one accomplishment
lived, but did nothing else.
No generic words spill over her corpse
nothing touches her soul
no one talks about how she smiled
walked with such grace
how she helped feed those who hungered
gave to those who needed
no one talked
becase no one was there.
Her parents were long dead
no brothers, no sisters,
just the Donna Karan suit that fit so well
Tiffany earrings glittering wildly
...
If they had, they'd see
Sarah Smith, mother of none
Not one accomplishment
lived, but did nothing else.
No generic words spill over her corpse
nothing touches her soul
no one talks about how she smiled
walked with such grace
how she helped feed those who hungered
gave to those who needed
no one talked
becase no one was there.
Her parents were long dead
no brothers, no sisters,
just the Donna Karan suit that fit so well
Tiffany earrings glittering wildly
...
216 reads
8 Comments
it comes with age
I don't know her.
This is the thought I have when I see my wrinkled eyes,
When I see the lines around my mouth,
When I see the graying around my temples.
I don't know her.
I am not that old.
My skin is changing.
I pinch my cheeks and they don't bounce back.
The bartender never asks me for my identification.
She puts a shot in front of me,
Shakes her head at how easily it goes down
The empty glass is replaced with a full one.
To her, I am an old drunk.
She shakes her head again,
I see what she is thinking
"it is a shame...
This is the thought I have when I see my wrinkled eyes,
When I see the lines around my mouth,
When I see the graying around my temples.
I don't know her.
I am not that old.
My skin is changing.
I pinch my cheeks and they don't bounce back.
The bartender never asks me for my identification.
She puts a shot in front of me,
Shakes her head at how easily it goes down
The empty glass is replaced with a full one.
To her, I am an old drunk.
She shakes her head again,
I see what she is thinking
"it is a shame...
158 reads
6 Comments
don't f**king care
There is nothing
I know it when the glass clicks my teeth
When it clanks hard on the bar, empty
When the salt spills on the rim
Leaving sick little spores in tequilla
Until it mixes with spit
Drooling down the side.
There is nothing inside
You've left and I never grieved
never shed a tear
and I don't know
which should bother me more.
You are dead to me,
but I am dead to me.
There is no pain, no laughter
I don't remember a good memory
Just your mail in the mailbox
return to sender
it may find you
before I do....
I know it when the glass clicks my teeth
When it clanks hard on the bar, empty
When the salt spills on the rim
Leaving sick little spores in tequilla
Until it mixes with spit
Drooling down the side.
There is nothing inside
You've left and I never grieved
never shed a tear
and I don't know
which should bother me more.
You are dead to me,
but I am dead to me.
There is no pain, no laughter
I don't remember a good memory
Just your mail in the mailbox
return to sender
it may find you
before I do....
314 reads
12 Comments
forsaken
The words don't come out right
Dead petals falling from moving lips
words so fragile yet unafraid
you'd think they had a right to be there
in a place where words aren't welcome
where tears and brokenness live
in tangled backalley ravines
where our hearts used to play
before the bulldozer came.
The thought is never enough
Love made our hearts beat wild
But your heart is still, cold ice
But you aren't more dead than the rest of me
I am frozen with you and numb
Hundreds of petals sting my face
Careless words thrown to high winds...
Dead petals falling from moving lips
words so fragile yet unafraid
you'd think they had a right to be there
in a place where words aren't welcome
where tears and brokenness live
in tangled backalley ravines
where our hearts used to play
before the bulldozer came.
The thought is never enough
Love made our hearts beat wild
But your heart is still, cold ice
But you aren't more dead than the rest of me
I am frozen with you and numb
Hundreds of petals sting my face
Careless words thrown to high winds...
167 reads
4 Comments
uninvited
The pain was too great..
You left your world
Crawling half-assed,
broken-kneed
Whining into mine.
Two time loser
you shouldn't have jumped
you won't find attention
here.
I lifted your lifeless corpse
bones protruding from skin
crunched spine, collapsed skull
saw the stain you left
23 years and you are just
a spot on the sidewalk
side story on the news
your funeral is over
coffin closed without a sound
so many dry eyes
I am the only one who cried
Teary as I brought you over
Saddened at your arrival...
You left your world
Crawling half-assed,
broken-kneed
Whining into mine.
Two time loser
you shouldn't have jumped
you won't find attention
here.
I lifted your lifeless corpse
bones protruding from skin
crunched spine, collapsed skull
saw the stain you left
23 years and you are just
a spot on the sidewalk
side story on the news
your funeral is over
coffin closed without a sound
so many dry eyes
I am the only one who cried
Teary as I brought you over
Saddened at your arrival...
139 reads
4 Comments
the problem
Last night you said I have a problem
but I am no longer your problem.
You washed your hands of me
but the nail holes must bleed anyway.
You were so good at crucifying yourself.
Old habits die hard.
I saw you with my replacement;
she doesn't have my problem.
She drinks diet coke; I know the glass.
She doesn't avoid bridges
because a voice always says
it's time to jump.
Her wrists don't have scars.
Your arms circle her waist.
Lips graze her ear,
moving in whispers.
I see steam-
warm breath in December,
I...
but I am no longer your problem.
You washed your hands of me
but the nail holes must bleed anyway.
You were so good at crucifying yourself.
Old habits die hard.
I saw you with my replacement;
she doesn't have my problem.
She drinks diet coke; I know the glass.
She doesn't avoid bridges
because a voice always says
it's time to jump.
Her wrists don't have scars.
Your arms circle her waist.
Lips graze her ear,
moving in whispers.
I see steam-
warm breath in December,
I...
253 reads
9 Comments
ex sex
He breathes like one who's been choked
gulping air, spitting wind;
strangled by the python bitch.
Even though her words still sting,
her cunt calls him.
Her scent pervades his conscious thought,
while she dances in his cold-sweat nightmares.
Her taste is on his tongue.
He still can feel her mouth on him
like it was moments ago
not the long weeks
that separate lovers from
enemies.
She is standing in his bedroom.
There is fear and lust
swarming in his stomach.
Angry bees are stinging.
His throat...
gulping air, spitting wind;
strangled by the python bitch.
Even though her words still sting,
her cunt calls him.
Her scent pervades his conscious thought,
while she dances in his cold-sweat nightmares.
Her taste is on his tongue.
He still can feel her mouth on him
like it was moments ago
not the long weeks
that separate lovers from
enemies.
She is standing in his bedroom.
There is fear and lust
swarming in his stomach.
Angry bees are stinging.
His throat...
212 reads
11 Comments
broken challenge
I still drive by the place
rampant in Queen Anne's lace and chicory.
Nature overran civilization.
Rules stopped at the sidewalk-
they didn't follow the path
behind the burned out buildings
along the train tracks
then behind the apartment building
where no one but stray cats walked
and we laid in the grass,
your hands caressing my shaky legs.
Picking grass out of your hair,
eyes glazed, fingers weaved together,
I would have married you.
Happily ever after hadn't given way
to cynicism and brokenness yet,
but when the rain...
rampant in Queen Anne's lace and chicory.
Nature overran civilization.
Rules stopped at the sidewalk-
they didn't follow the path
behind the burned out buildings
along the train tracks
then behind the apartment building
where no one but stray cats walked
and we laid in the grass,
your hands caressing my shaky legs.
Picking grass out of your hair,
eyes glazed, fingers weaved together,
I would have married you.
Happily ever after hadn't given way
to cynicism and brokenness yet,
but when the rain...
150 reads
6 Comments
and so it goes.
We sit down over breakfast,
I still feel
your impression from last night.
You say,"I love you."
I study my english muffin,
counting nooks and crannies,
watching butter melt.
You stand.
You pour more coffee,
but I don't look over.
I don't have an answer
and you know it.
Your coffee cup slams
and I look up.
You search my eyes.
Now you count nooks and crannies,
Wondering how to take back
what was intended to be irrevocable.
I still feel
your impression from last night.
You say,"I love you."
I study my english muffin,
counting nooks and crannies,
watching butter melt.
You stand.
You pour more coffee,
but I don't look over.
I don't have an answer
and you know it.
Your coffee cup slams
and I look up.
You search my eyes.
Now you count nooks and crannies,
Wondering how to take back
what was intended to be irrevocable.
163 reads
6 Comments
failing in the kitchen
We are cracked
Corner-diner coffee-counter stained
mug rings around eyes
bleeding dishwater
dying slowly of boredom
dullness
we are
diluted pink industrial soap
pressing prune-skinned hands together
feeling nothing
we discourse in automaton
"did you put out the garbage"
"pick up coffee filters"
"feed the cats and fish"
sparks drown in coffee grounds
no madness left
squeezing out a sponge
washing off the table
is this why I make the...
Corner-diner coffee-counter stained
mug rings around eyes
bleeding dishwater
dying slowly of boredom
dullness
we are
diluted pink industrial soap
pressing prune-skinned hands together
feeling nothing
we discourse in automaton
"did you put out the garbage"
"pick up coffee filters"
"feed the cats and fish"
sparks drown in coffee grounds
no madness left
squeezing out a sponge
washing off the table
is this why I make the...
249 reads
9 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by beautiful_accident