Submissions by lotuscountry (SelahV)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Rain At The Beach
Getting flooded these days
with the broadening horizon
of hopes and homes lost.
Rt 1 South,
passing through it all
on my way.
The Delaware sun keeps rising and setting
weighing down so heavy on me in the mornings,
awakening me so tired from grounding in piled high evenings of disorientation.
The trauma, the crisis
even the relief
is over.
I am left now only
with memories,
and...
with the broadening horizon
of hopes and homes lost.
Rt 1 South,
passing through it all
on my way.
The Delaware sun keeps rising and setting
weighing down so heavy on me in the mornings,
awakening me so tired from grounding in piled high evenings of disorientation.
The trauma, the crisis
even the relief
is over.
I am left now only
with memories,
and...
85 reads
0 Comments
i was told
It can be simple
and in that-
beautiful,
true.
The Lord told me so...
A pale blue grey sky,
snow seagulls flying, their white wings
deeply quieting to my
over-striving
ever-searching soul,
2 crab ships roaring engines
small waves and ripples.
It's not meant to be a struggle.
Peace exists here, where I still myself.
The bay, as if caught by surprise
in a private moment
gladdened by my presence but wondering
why I've come.
Sand wet and cold.
It can be
simple.
And in...
and in that-
beautiful,
true.
The Lord told me so...
A pale blue grey sky,
snow seagulls flying, their white wings
deeply quieting to my
over-striving
ever-searching soul,
2 crab ships roaring engines
small waves and ripples.
It's not meant to be a struggle.
Peace exists here, where I still myself.
The bay, as if caught by surprise
in a private moment
gladdened by my presence but wondering
why I've come.
Sand wet and cold.
It can be
simple.
And in...
94 reads
0 Comments
In Jeremiah's House
![restricted poem](/images/extremecontent.jpg)
181 reads
2 Comments
the home of my spirit
sinking heavy to the center
like an evening
setting sun dropping into
this long,
dark night.
relaxed,
expanding deep
within myself.
i hear the thunder of my heart
and i feel
the lightning of my spirit.
tonight,
at last
these moments passing
glowing breath, not lost.
like an evening
setting sun dropping into
this long,
dark night.
relaxed,
expanding deep
within myself.
i hear the thunder of my heart
and i feel
the lightning of my spirit.
tonight,
at last
these moments passing
glowing breath, not lost.
113 reads
5 Comments
as water flows
As water flows
through all of life,
so does He speak
to us.
More precious
than anything else
is our faith.
It is
the language
of prayer, the way
of communication
between ourselves
and God.
Through it
we have the ears
for hearing Him.
Through it
we have the heart
for obeying Him.
Through it
we have the patience
for allowing Him
to make us Holy.
More precious
than anything else
is our faith.
through all of life,
so does He speak
to us.
More precious
than anything else
is our faith.
It is
the language
of prayer, the way
of communication
between ourselves
and God.
Through it
we have the ears
for hearing Him.
Through it
we have the heart
for obeying Him.
Through it
we have the patience
for allowing Him
to make us Holy.
More precious
than anything else
is our faith.
137 reads
2 Comments
crashed into by hell
with the speed and weight of chaos flying
inflamed cantankerous a rotting lying
ulceration of lust and charm
disarming brilliant wit and a
killer smile
big enough to fit
me into the palm of his
shark hands
quick, rough and groping
with one grand
easy landing
defiling sweep
his choice what to take and keep
with steeping heavy steps
that broke through me like an earthquake
shattered me like glass
while he fed his win
and laughed
crashed in
to my sensitive life ...
inflamed cantankerous a rotting lying
ulceration of lust and charm
disarming brilliant wit and a
killer smile
big enough to fit
me into the palm of his
shark hands
quick, rough and groping
with one grand
easy landing
defiling sweep
his choice what to take and keep
with steeping heavy steps
that broke through me like an earthquake
shattered me like glass
while he fed his win
and laughed
crashed in
to my sensitive life ...
117 reads
4 Comments
reverberations (haiku)
daytime is busy
all night he's here
in my dreams
i am so tired
all night he's here
in my dreams
i am so tired
116 reads
1 Comment
Love 1
And shall I lose myself in this gift
as though it were
for God my offering,
to his arms
hands
fingers
tips
which like a hushed most secret prayer
desire, and all the moreso need
this
warm dissolve
into the deep
feeding of my senses
answered after the kneading waiting
of all centuries and so many countries
traveled
to arrive in this mysterious
here,
now
by his touch.
Like the explorers setting sail
upon the ocean current of
all control surrendered,
the great...
as though it were
for God my offering,
to his arms
hands
fingers
tips
which like a hushed most secret prayer
desire, and all the moreso need
this
warm dissolve
into the deep
feeding of my senses
answered after the kneading waiting
of all centuries and so many countries
traveled
to arrive in this mysterious
here,
now
by his touch.
Like the explorers setting sail
upon the ocean current of
all control surrendered,
the great...
114 reads
0 Comments
Mourning
there's no poetry to be found here.
i guess that means that
finally life has shown me
true grief.
true grief
is when you look death in the eye
and you know
that you are eternally bound
by it's silence
that no matter how much
you'd like to expose it
you can not,
even if
you are a poet.
true grief
is that kind of secret.
i guess that means that
finally life has shown me
true grief.
true grief
is when you look death in the eye
and you know
that you are eternally bound
by it's silence
that no matter how much
you'd like to expose it
you can not,
even if
you are a poet.
true grief
is that kind of secret.
114 reads
4 Comments
was
jaggedshardsofwas
flickerlikeaflame
andsting,
dreamsthatwentastray...
flickerlikeaflame
andsting,
dreamsthatwentastray...
81 reads
2 Comments
last word
I have to return to the battlefield of intimate vengeance
where the stink of blood rotting is venomous
and speak the last word.
Like a compulsed gambler, I can not sit still in my losses.
My stomach is weak, I am tortured by the nastiness
of a bad taste
left in my mouth,
they have to be flavored right, my goodbyes.
I'm in a new house with new people and new sounds.
The clock across from me seems to be broken
it keeps tripping and ticking
loud on the same...
where the stink of blood rotting is venomous
and speak the last word.
Like a compulsed gambler, I can not sit still in my losses.
My stomach is weak, I am tortured by the nastiness
of a bad taste
left in my mouth,
they have to be flavored right, my goodbyes.
I'm in a new house with new people and new sounds.
The clock across from me seems to be broken
it keeps tripping and ticking
loud on the same...
136 reads
8 Comments
My Lord
My Lord,
in the truly humbled, wounded
broken holy quiet spaces of my heart
where all feelings deep
and boiling passions
exist with only the life and breath of reverence
as no more pride of voice
than an all encompassing
prayerful desperate hush
of hope
(and a hidden treasury of trust
rushing from my heart
like water falling)
i beg you
be with me now Father,
rise for me
again.
in the truly humbled, wounded
broken holy quiet spaces of my heart
where all feelings deep
and boiling passions
exist with only the life and breath of reverence
as no more pride of voice
than an all encompassing
prayerful desperate hush
of hope
(and a hidden treasury of trust
rushing from my heart
like water falling)
i beg you
be with me now Father,
rise for me
again.
127 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by lotuscountry (SelahV)