Submissions by runningturtle87
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
If it's not intimate, what's the point?......................
Elevated Madness
Transparent to the world at large
in verticaled arrange
the seeming beauty of machines
can make our moments strange.
Just in short the journey there
when floor to floor alift
it's not so odd to feel alight
and let the ceiling drift.
All touched with evening
drinks and chatter
hard to keep composed
when pressed against
a window rising
lifted to your toes.
Fingers fretting
playing songs
of harmonies in light
and what of if
we kissed and came
transparent in the night?
runningturtle87
in verticaled arrange
the seeming beauty of machines
can make our moments strange.
Just in short the journey there
when floor to floor alift
it's not so odd to feel alight
and let the ceiling drift.
All touched with evening
drinks and chatter
hard to keep composed
when pressed against
a window rising
lifted to your toes.
Fingers fretting
playing songs
of harmonies in light
and what of if
we kissed and came
transparent in the night?
runningturtle87
153 reads
4 Comments
A Cleft in the Rock
Just holding hands
and walking on
while talking on
they saunter
on the ledge
and while
they're merely
walking on
he takes her on
and leads her
to the edge
and keeps her there
and dangles her
until she sees the light
and then
he leans her back a bit
and gives her neck a bite.
She winces
as he takes her there
and pulls her hands up close,
thinking to protect her neck
from just a second dose
and then while she's
astride her clasp
he takes
and plunges...
and walking on
while talking on
they saunter
on the ledge
and while
they're merely
walking on
he takes her on
and leads her
to the edge
and keeps her there
and dangles her
until she sees the light
and then
he leans her back a bit
and gives her neck a bite.
She winces
as he takes her there
and pulls her hands up close,
thinking to protect her neck
from just a second dose
and then while she's
astride her clasp
he takes
and plunges...
167 reads
11 Comments
As It Stands It Falls
We cannot talk about what we cannot talk about and I cannot say what it is without it's becoming a lecture to you.
I might work an entire day on something, and fix or labor at a 1000 things, and your concern is with this other thing over here that remains undone; God, you must be a miserable person on the inside.
I notice that none of these things that you point out are ever eventually done by you. It seems that your job is to point them out and be disappointed in me that I have not done them. I have poured over each of my works and used up my youth and talent to make sure...
I might work an entire day on something, and fix or labor at a 1000 things, and your concern is with this other thing over here that remains undone; God, you must be a miserable person on the inside.
I notice that none of these things that you point out are ever eventually done by you. It seems that your job is to point them out and be disappointed in me that I have not done them. I have poured over each of my works and used up my youth and talent to make sure...
105 reads
5 Comments
Tracing the Thoughts
I followed you on Tumblr,
reading your archives
and looking into your story.
I followed you backwards,
back track creeping your work
and looking back for months
through all the places you had been
and even followed those back
for several generations
and I saw that you had
encoded your work
in all your reblogging
with a self-consciously revealing pattern
of picking things
that were safe and predictable
and then you would toss in things
that were off the wall
to throw me off the trail,
but I was...
reading your archives
and looking into your story.
I followed you backwards,
back track creeping your work
and looking back for months
through all the places you had been
and even followed those back
for several generations
and I saw that you had
encoded your work
in all your reblogging
with a self-consciously revealing pattern
of picking things
that were safe and predictable
and then you would toss in things
that were off the wall
to throw me off the trail,
but I was...
137 reads
8 Comments
The Unchained
393 reads
4 Comments
In the Silence
Powder keg of sensitivities,
I rewrite the Kama Sutra.
So lacking in imagination,
they have forgotten
the 14 positions of the mind,
the triune of emotional insecurities,
the four locks of consequence,
the quadrangle of opulence,
the multi-dimensional equation,
and the host of others
in the mandala
of interdependent nature.
I look beyond
the stream
wet and facing
the annihilation of evaporation
into the clouds
and the long journey
from the mountains
and back to the sea.
I have uttered
the...
I rewrite the Kama Sutra.
So lacking in imagination,
they have forgotten
the 14 positions of the mind,
the triune of emotional insecurities,
the four locks of consequence,
the quadrangle of opulence,
the multi-dimensional equation,
and the host of others
in the mandala
of interdependent nature.
I look beyond
the stream
wet and facing
the annihilation of evaporation
into the clouds
and the long journey
from the mountains
and back to the sea.
I have uttered
the...
150 reads
0 Comments
Look Away
Stop looking
at me
looking at you;
it's annoying
not to see you
at a glance,
to voyeuristically
take you in
like a deer drinking water
at risk of being seen,
in the mile high club of being.
I notice
the cataclysmic dances
of your obelisque,
an emotional nakedness
that startles the dead
and rattles the rafters
of the museum.
The clatter
of your shoes
emotes a sound
of attentiveness
to the details.
I have seen
what a spell can do.
My curse is
that I am...
at me
looking at you;
it's annoying
not to see you
at a glance,
to voyeuristically
take you in
like a deer drinking water
at risk of being seen,
in the mile high club of being.
I notice
the cataclysmic dances
of your obelisque,
an emotional nakedness
that startles the dead
and rattles the rafters
of the museum.
The clatter
of your shoes
emotes a sound
of attentiveness
to the details.
I have seen
what a spell can do.
My curse is
that I am...
73 reads
2 Comments
Barbie-of-Yoga. Tumblr
Star-footed Barbie
with her purple eyes
sees into the hearts
of the lost
and looks back
with a sense
of wonder.
If all you saw
of her
was the ease
of her glance,
then you would miss
the sculptural quality
of her work;
the transformation
of her inner-child.
Her arms hold
the marks
of one
who has born the night
and still she cradles
the bitter taste
of being forgotten
and tossed,
when, in fact,
she has found it all
in the home
of her heart.
runningturtle87
with her purple eyes
sees into the hearts
of the lost
and looks back
with a sense
of wonder.
If all you saw
of her
was the ease
of her glance,
then you would miss
the sculptural quality
of her work;
the transformation
of her inner-child.
Her arms hold
the marks
of one
who has born the night
and still she cradles
the bitter taste
of being forgotten
and tossed,
when, in fact,
she has found it all
in the home
of her heart.
runningturtle87
85 reads
0 Comments
Tequila Mocking Bird
Concubine sweat,
hands on the honey,
fingers all groping
smooth as a bunny,
these are the vagrancies
mind in the matter
slithering testicle
fallopian splatter.
Attitude straight
as she watches the curves
orgy of darkness
heading for verves,
what does it matter
if wax sugars down
as long as her tongue
hangs just so low
to the ground?
Attitude then,
that's where it's at,
some like a dog
and some like a cat;
pulsing with heat
and the need to confirm,
I'll talk my shit
and let birds
eat...
hands on the honey,
fingers all groping
smooth as a bunny,
these are the vagrancies
mind in the matter
slithering testicle
fallopian splatter.
Attitude straight
as she watches the curves
orgy of darkness
heading for verves,
what does it matter
if wax sugars down
as long as her tongue
hangs just so low
to the ground?
Attitude then,
that's where it's at,
some like a dog
and some like a cat;
pulsing with heat
and the need to confirm,
I'll talk my shit
and let birds
eat...
144 reads
3 Comments
Poem Number Two
Deep structure,
the roaring sea,
a turn of events,
and the audio recording
of breathing,
the circuit concludes
with a disappearing act.
What had Heisenberg meant
and what were the delineaments
held in mind,
the rules bent,
and the texture of that heaven?
The syncopations of unrest,
the missing along the way,
the misguided and the touched,
these were the fallen,
gladly given and gladly served.
When the room collapsed,
all eyes gazed as if to expect
the universal as a temptation
relieved of its duty,...
the roaring sea,
a turn of events,
and the audio recording
of breathing,
the circuit concludes
with a disappearing act.
What had Heisenberg meant
and what were the delineaments
held in mind,
the rules bent,
and the texture of that heaven?
The syncopations of unrest,
the missing along the way,
the misguided and the touched,
these were the fallen,
gladly given and gladly served.
When the room collapsed,
all eyes gazed as if to expect
the universal as a temptation
relieved of its duty,...
65 reads
1 Comment
Poem Number One
That consciousness has developed, evolved,
as an extension of the elemental framework
portends to the dynamic of our minds.
Our attachments, material and psychic,
persuade us against our better judgment,
which must be rooted out
by the passing of our perceptions
from values into transcendental relationships,
The measure of our understanding
hails as a sign post of our level of consciousness
within the interdependent field.
Otherness does not exist, and thus
separation reflects our delusions.
Nothing short of...
as an extension of the elemental framework
portends to the dynamic of our minds.
Our attachments, material and psychic,
persuade us against our better judgment,
which must be rooted out
by the passing of our perceptions
from values into transcendental relationships,
The measure of our understanding
hails as a sign post of our level of consciousness
within the interdependent field.
Otherness does not exist, and thus
separation reflects our delusions.
Nothing short of...
105 reads
7 Comments
I Tried to Tell You
I can't be tied down;
I defy your need
to subject me
to the order
of your chaos.
My organization
is a mist
that talks
of wind
and the waves
that celebrate
an age
of piercing
subjectivity.
Look into who I am
and you will find
yourself looking back
and nodding;
go ahead and make your move
and don't look for my approval.
I will be the one
holding a candle
in the darkness
of your lost nature.
Go on;
don't wait for me. ...
I defy your need
to subject me
to the order
of your chaos.
My organization
is a mist
that talks
of wind
and the waves
that celebrate
an age
of piercing
subjectivity.
Look into who I am
and you will find
yourself looking back
and nodding;
go ahead and make your move
and don't look for my approval.
I will be the one
holding a candle
in the darkness
of your lost nature.
Go on;
don't wait for me. ...
238 reads
14 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by runningturtle87