Submissions by Pishashee
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
"Sitting with the angels who have returned with my memories. " ― Alice Walker. It is a pleasure to be in such company.
Cordial Conversation on the Weather
Reading my book
on how to make taffy.
I look outside
and I listen to the rain.
The world is screaming,
and wonders;
what
color
is
the
rain
water;
little gloomy little grey.
It's the color of
bitter
&
soda
poured into a pan
and baked until clay.
The birds are singing
and clapping
that the worms
are a...
on how to make taffy.
I look outside
and I listen to the rain.
The world is screaming,
and wonders;
what
color
is
the
rain
water;
little gloomy little grey.
It's the color of
bitter
&
soda
poured into a pan
and baked until clay.
The birds are singing
and clapping
that the worms
are a...
#hope
#motivational
48 reads
0 Comments
Optimistic Heaven
Dogs.
Lots of dogs.
Lots of dogs.
#love
#dogs
#animals
39 reads
2 Comments
Eastside KC
Twang! Twang!
Tang!
Here it comes again;
Tang! Tang!
Twang!
Bullets across
the hood
from my balcony.
My son is
on heroine tonight.
Tang!
Here it comes again;
Tang! Tang!
Twang!
Bullets across
the hood
from my balcony.
My son is
on heroine tonight.
#drugs
#addiction
#culture
49 reads
1 Comment
Helpless
My brain, in the middle of the night
while I'm sleeping,
is trying to figure out,
without my knowabouts,
how to get out of my skull.
I can't get it out of my head
now that I have absolutely no way
to communicate with my brain,
to tell it to calm down.
Fascinating. The mind.
The darkness
within the darkness.
The murmed brain that expels the thought.
while I'm sleeping,
is trying to figure out,
without my knowabouts,
how to get out of my skull.
I can't get it out of my head
now that I have absolutely no way
to communicate with my brain,
to tell it to calm down.
Fascinating. The mind.
The darkness
within the darkness.
The murmed brain that expels the thought.
#Taoism
51 reads
2 Comments
Out of the wind
Out of the wind
….………………….and the night
a new sorrow
…….……………….is not so deep.
The softness of the stars` dim light,
…………………….makes it drowsy
and it goes to sleep………………..
….………………….and the night
a new sorrow
…….……………….is not so deep.
The softness of the stars` dim light,
…………………….makes it drowsy
and it goes to sleep………………..
#stars
#night
#WritingPoetry
86 reads
2 Comments
Coyote
Do you remember the first
time you heard Coyote?
I was afraid.
There's a myth about Coyote
in his shapshifting days
and how he invented the world
in a most antagonistic way.
There's no vitality without
antagonism.
Why was the devil created?
The paneling on the wall
as I lay drifting away
in childhood,
there was Coyote
in the woodcarving
sneaking up on me, always.
I look at the legend of Coyote.
We listen to stories for
warning, and severity;
for the deeper...
time you heard Coyote?
I was afraid.
There's a myth about Coyote
in his shapshifting days
and how he invented the world
in a most antagonistic way.
There's no vitality without
antagonism.
Why was the devil created?
The paneling on the wall
as I lay drifting away
in childhood,
there was Coyote
in the woodcarving
sneaking up on me, always.
I look at the legend of Coyote.
We listen to stories for
warning, and severity;
for the deeper...
#narrative
#mythology
89 reads
2 Comments
Ambrosia Emotion
Early in the morning,
Early in the morning,
I had the thought
of sweet ambrosia.
Like a daily psalm
found in the Café Poem.
Tacked to a wall
where there was much
discussion on my mother.
An Easter morning long forgotten
and all that was poured in it.
The thought disappears into my sinew,
my sinew opens with the sweet aroma.
The aroma keeps burrow deep in my bones.
Early in the morning,
I had the thought
of sweet ambrosia.
Like a daily psalm
found in the Café Poem.
Tacked to a wall
where there was much
discussion on my mother.
An Easter morning long forgotten
and all that was poured in it.
The thought disappears into my sinew,
my sinew opens with the sweet aroma.
The aroma keeps burrow deep in my bones.
#mother
#Easter
#tradition
74 reads
3 Comments
The Seen and Unforeseen
I had just succeeded in shaking the world off, like a Pop! and started my journey alone up the mountain. No one wanted to go with me, and I didn’t waste any time on the offer of such an adventure.
It was as though I had been waiting on a sign from God my whole life, and had just gotten an answer, telling me I could go. I readied to get myself together. I felt blessed with a mind that lay wide open to receive such a treasure and began the journey. I was going to write a book. And even though I had been thinking about this swell book since I was a little girl. I didn’t know...
It was as though I had been waiting on a sign from God my whole life, and had just gotten an answer, telling me I could go. I readied to get myself together. I felt blessed with a mind that lay wide open to receive such a treasure and began the journey. I was going to write a book. And even though I had been thinking about this swell book since I was a little girl. I didn’t know...
#river
#sky
#nature #WritingPoetry
#nature #WritingPoetry
75 reads
0 Comments
Kitchen Soliloquy
I'm finished.
I'm done in the kitchen.
Its late.
Have you ever
had a little
milk to yourself?
I'm done in the kitchen.
Its late.
Have you ever
had a little
milk to yourself?
#freedom
#meditation
#wisdom
73 reads
0 Comments
The nature of poems
Poetry cannot be explained,
not even by the mouths
of the mystics and bards.
It can only be heard hungering
to be set free for the world,
and for the poet's soul.
Imagine savory music notes
sailing through the sweet wind,
and no one else can see them,
or hear them —
not even taste the crescendo.
And the only way to explain it,
is to put its charm into words.
Words are about —
A pale comparison to a clear night out
with the silence of the stars.
not even by the mouths
of the mystics and bards.
It can only be heard hungering
to be set free for the world,
and for the poet's soul.
Imagine savory music notes
sailing through the sweet wind,
and no one else can see them,
or hear them —
not even taste the crescendo.
And the only way to explain it,
is to put its charm into words.
Words are about —
A pale comparison to a clear night out
with the silence of the stars.
#WritingPoetry
119 reads
6 Comments
In Reading Alice Walker
There was the chardonnay.
And then the Pinot noir.
She dared the Sommeliers.
But there was none.
And then the Pinot noir.
She dared the Sommeliers.
But there was none.
#inspirational
#WritingPoetry
91 reads
2 Comments
Evening's late
Evenings late,
The quill, the day,
The quill under
my pillow lay,
the day
Out of the quiet
as if i knew anything
He say,
"spell Siam".
I looked
at him oddly.
and
then he
asked me,
"do you think its spelled,
S I A M, as in
the old country".
I said, yes,
I bet it is.
I took charm
in the old country,
and was quiet about it.
The quill, the day,
The quill under
my pillow lay,
the day
Out of the quiet
as if i knew anything
He say,
"spell Siam".
I looked
at him oddly.
and
then he
asked me,
"do you think its spelled,
S I A M, as in
the old country".
I said, yes,
I bet it is.
I took charm
in the old country,
and was quiet about it.
#WritersBlock
58 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Pishashee