Submissions by hawthorn
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Hi. I'm hawthorn. I first wrote poetry about 23 years ago. I wrote it out of the blue for one year, then stopped as inexplicably as I'd started. Published in half a dozen mags. Starting up again now.
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Sep 2013 1:42pm
9th Sep 2013 1:42pm
Touch, please.
Long late August grass
Weightless crippled and prone
Hollow burnished gold-bronze
Articulated once
Lush as a cats coat
Appeals for one last pass.
Beyond vulnerable
Body of broken-neck beauty
Seductive late summer love
For those who stoop so low
Weightless crippled and prone
Hollow burnished gold-bronze
Articulated once
Lush as a cats coat
Appeals for one last pass.
Beyond vulnerable
Body of broken-neck beauty
Seductive late summer love
For those who stoop so low
27 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Sep 2013 1:36pm
9th Sep 2013 1:36pm
Cyborg
The old black man
Held the wheel of his car
Cautiously, lovingly
Like it were a
shiny new grandchild
He peered through
two glass walls into
the next uncertain moments
ahead. Frog-marched
into here and now
he fed his baby
between the lines
conscious of its still
pristine skin and
its heart beat which
without exception
must never be exerted
His baby murmured
between the lines,
grimaced at other's
noxious gases
faltered before vicious
opened doors
But trusted his master,
who sweated...
Held the wheel of his car
Cautiously, lovingly
Like it were a
shiny new grandchild
He peered through
two glass walls into
the next uncertain moments
ahead. Frog-marched
into here and now
he fed his baby
between the lines
conscious of its still
pristine skin and
its heart beat which
without exception
must never be exerted
His baby murmured
between the lines,
grimaced at other's
noxious gases
faltered before vicious
opened doors
But trusted his master,
who sweated...
29 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
5th Sep 2013 8:17am
5th Sep 2013 8:17am
Skipper
Old bastard you did it again
But this for a final time.
I sucked it up, swallowed it
Felt your horny feet scrape
My bared shoulders
Old genius
Your knowledge just magnifies
Your idiocy.
Softened in evening spirits
Your chain of thought slips
One name, place, date at a time.
You feel for them in
Your white beard as
The clock ticks down
Your credibility.
Telling interstice:
What arrives when
The anchor will no longer lift?
On your chest
Straight as a 180 degrees
Plot, proof
That you have a heart....
But this for a final time.
I sucked it up, swallowed it
Felt your horny feet scrape
My bared shoulders
Old genius
Your knowledge just magnifies
Your idiocy.
Softened in evening spirits
Your chain of thought slips
One name, place, date at a time.
You feel for them in
Your white beard as
The clock ticks down
Your credibility.
Telling interstice:
What arrives when
The anchor will no longer lift?
On your chest
Straight as a 180 degrees
Plot, proof
That you have a heart....
42 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
5th Sep 2013 8:05am
5th Sep 2013 8:05am
As Light Fades
Between myself and nomad
clouds
the swifts stall and soar
black piping scythes, foreigners
we welcome
I admire their artistry
mesmeric African moves.
They climb, grow small as
leaves, broken leaves, dust -
disappear.
As joy subsides coolness
is felt. Soon
cumulonimbus
tall as Kilimanjaro
fills their absence;
grumbles at my sentiment
clouds
the swifts stall and soar
black piping scythes, foreigners
we welcome
I admire their artistry
mesmeric African moves.
They climb, grow small as
leaves, broken leaves, dust -
disappear.
As joy subsides coolness
is felt. Soon
cumulonimbus
tall as Kilimanjaro
fills their absence;
grumbles at my sentiment
22 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
2nd Sep 2013 1:17pm
2nd Sep 2013 1:17pm
Standing in Air
Standing in air
A hawk that feeds
On ideas
Taut, zoned
Pencil honed
To make a point
Justify this claimed height
Perilous flight
Critical. View
I stand in air, apart
When all I yearn
Is to enter you
A hawk that feeds
On ideas
Taut, zoned
Pencil honed
To make a point
Justify this claimed height
Perilous flight
Critical. View
I stand in air, apart
When all I yearn
Is to enter you
26 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Sep 2013 9:06pm
1st Sep 2013 9:06pm
Scene From Below
Through the hatch a
Shifting screen of sky
Makes impossible moves.
Shrouded, an illusion,
Seen from this angle, a
Natural top
Natural bottom
Our invention
One holy marriage
After another.
We take top and bottom
Twist
Are crushed in
Knotted reality, but
Beyond the hatch
Hopeful clouds draw
My attention; I am caught up
At their pace
In their time
Slowly
I unwind.
Shifting screen of sky
Makes impossible moves.
Shrouded, an illusion,
Seen from this angle, a
Natural top
Natural bottom
Our invention
One holy marriage
After another.
We take top and bottom
Twist
Are crushed in
Knotted reality, but
Beyond the hatch
Hopeful clouds draw
My attention; I am caught up
At their pace
In their time
Slowly
I unwind.
35 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
31st Aug 2013 7:08pm
31st Aug 2013 7:08pm
New Leaves, Same Roots
Like a russian black they burn
red-blonde in the front
of the bus a bright light-skinned
tip in an otherwise uniform
fuliginous length, the secular
exotic on the one-one-five down
Barking road voices
crushed ice stirred in vodka
crystalline spiked with youthful
beautiful new immigrant
optimism.
They're on a journey smooth as
their flawless high foreheads
the backs of their unwrung hands.
Ignorance will not save them.
Out on the steppes the wolf howls.
In one guise or another his people
will know him.
red-blonde in the front
of the bus a bright light-skinned
tip in an otherwise uniform
fuliginous length, the secular
exotic on the one-one-five down
Barking road voices
crushed ice stirred in vodka
crystalline spiked with youthful
beautiful new immigrant
optimism.
They're on a journey smooth as
their flawless high foreheads
the backs of their unwrung hands.
Ignorance will not save them.
Out on the steppes the wolf howls.
In one guise or another his people
will know him.
34 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
31st Aug 2013 6:51pm
31st Aug 2013 6:51pm
Limbo
l
I am doing naught but exhausting myself
Wracking my nerves with dream driven deadlines
The weight of possibilities, a phantom yoke
Whilst years past are pestle to my mortar
ll
Then
The opiate sweep
Of rice fields
The slow morning blue birth
Of mountains
A caul of sunrise on
Their shoulders
The first bird. The first note.
Delight unfolds.
It is all i have. It is all I don't.
I am doing naught but exhausting myself
Wracking my nerves with dream driven deadlines
The weight of possibilities, a phantom yoke
Whilst years past are pestle to my mortar
ll
Then
The opiate sweep
Of rice fields
The slow morning blue birth
Of mountains
A caul of sunrise on
Their shoulders
The first bird. The first note.
Delight unfolds.
It is all i have. It is all I don't.
31 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by hawthorn
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