Submissions by goldenmyst
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Goldenmyst, 58 years old, lives in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The poet and author believe, “Love blossoms even within the walls of a madhouse in hearts yearning to be free.”
Spring Blossoms
Spring Blossoms
lotus dreams
for her love pie
crepe lips
cherished treasure
deep in her Xanadu
where heaven sings
June heat
hidden in ruffles
of her pleated skirt
scarlet manicure
strums golden lyre
into Appassionato
her sly grin
enfolds tongue
in wicked ploy
madhouse roses
blossom in spring
upon grapevines
lotus dreams
for her love pie
crepe lips
cherished treasure
deep in her Xanadu
where heaven sings
June heat
hidden in ruffles
of her pleated skirt
scarlet manicure
strums golden lyre
into Appassionato
her sly grin
enfolds tongue
in wicked ploy
madhouse roses
blossom in spring
upon grapevines
#beauty
#haiku
#sensual #women
#sensual #women
40 reads
0 Comments
June Beauties
June Beauties
spearmint tea
to get fresh with the taste buds
like an unruly schoolgirl
love made
on the mint beds of Oz
for saucy coeds
fresh squeezed
tamarind teasers
for a cup of Jolene
fresh April berries
paint her lips purple
as a Mardi Gras Queen
Chantilly icing
for her cake of lies
to beguile boys
key lime fresh
on a summer’s afternoon
her June dress
spearmint tea
to get fresh with the taste buds
like an unruly schoolgirl
love made
on the mint beds of Oz
for saucy coeds
fresh squeezed
tamarind teasers
for a cup of Jolene
fresh April berries
paint her lips purple
as a Mardi Gras Queen
Chantilly icing
for her cake of lies
to beguile boys
key lime fresh
on a summer’s afternoon
her June dress
#beauty
#sensual
#summer
#women
#haiku
39 reads
0 Comments
Countess Zero
Countess Zero
Countess Zero aims for the heart
With California lipstick cocktail
Mixed in Bloody Mary fire
To burn the calypso drums
Wild with the gloss of a grin
Hot with Malibu summer seasoning
Whose Tabasco lips are lit with the sizzle
Of a thousand peppers strung in strands
That cascade into the cosmic nova
Of a million stars born into seduction
That glitter like blue abalone shells
From the sea in her crystal ball eyes
Countess Zero aims for the heart
With California lipstick cocktail
Mixed in Bloody Mary fire
To burn the calypso drums
Wild with the gloss of a grin
Hot with Malibu summer seasoning
Whose Tabasco lips are lit with the sizzle
Of a thousand peppers strung in strands
That cascade into the cosmic nova
Of a million stars born into seduction
That glitter like blue abalone shells
From the sea in her crystal ball eyes
#women
#beauty
#sensual #seductive
#sensual #seductive
70 reads
2 Comments
Red River Willie
Red River Willie
Red River blues
sung by bearded prophet
of western visions
whose cigarette voice
rolls with muddy water
on course for father of waters
while soothsayer of song
plays the harmonica
for crickets chirping
on the banks by the railroad tracks
where old men dream
of days sifted into silt
where the whippoorwill fades
in a dusky hollow
© 2024 by John Hindle
Red River blues
sung by bearded prophet
of western visions
whose cigarette voice
rolls with muddy water
on course for father of waters
while soothsayer of song
plays the harmonica
for crickets chirping
on the banks by the railroad tracks
where old men dream
of days sifted into silt
where the whippoorwill fades
in a dusky hollow
© 2024 by John Hindle
#countryside
#river
#music #tobacco
#music #tobacco
46 reads
0 Comments
Vietnam Medic
Vietnam Medic
hills of Vietnam
where medic
bandages wounds
of Odin’s warriors
as jungle blues
Sing from radio
In cool air
Of mountain Gods
Upon steep slopes
Rising from bamboo forest
In thatched roof hut
where small TV
Projects ghostly cinema
Of moon walkers
In 1969
For idyllic medicine man
Under roof of heaven
With occasional gunfire
To keep him honest
© 2024 by John Hindle
hills of Vietnam
where medic
bandages wounds
of Odin’s warriors
as jungle blues
Sing from radio
In cool air
Of mountain Gods
Upon steep slopes
Rising from bamboo forest
In thatched roof hut
where small TV
Projects ghostly cinema
Of moon walkers
In 1969
For idyllic medicine man
Under roof of heaven
With occasional gunfire
To keep him honest
© 2024 by John Hindle
#war
#universe
#moon
#nature
#peace
52 reads
0 Comments
Promised Land
Promised Land
Like the sun rising over the Promised Land
She flies her auburn kite
On wings of a Celtic angel
With embered tresses unfurled
Over the blue sky of her deepening eyes
That gaze from her cherry tree of life
Whose maraschino lips are the halo of dawn
That breaks through my blue boy clouds
With the kiss of infinity
Upon my million secret stars
Like the sun rising over the Promised Land
She flies her auburn kite
On wings of a Celtic angel
With embered tresses unfurled
Over the blue sky of her deepening eyes
That gaze from her cherry tree of life
Whose maraschino lips are the halo of dawn
That breaks through my blue boy clouds
With the kiss of infinity
Upon my million secret stars
#women
#beauty
#sensual #seductive
#sensual #seductive
83 reads
6 Comments
Miss Prissy
Miss Prissy
He was dressed in his finest suit as he lay in his casket under the rotunda. Pat’s Aunt Mercy lay in her bed in a room off the big room. Her name was Pat and her duty was to sneak bourbon and whiskey to get Auntie drunk enough not to cry. She kept Pat on her feet as she went to the kitchen to get Auntie booze. Aunt Mercy ushered in her widowhood with gin and tonic with lime on the rocks. At twenty-one Pat was still girlish but old enough to learn how to mix drinks during a wake. Her bridegroom, Bob, was huddled with the men but quiet as a church mouse while letting...
He was dressed in his finest suit as he lay in his casket under the rotunda. Pat’s Aunt Mercy lay in her bed in a room off the big room. Her name was Pat and her duty was to sneak bourbon and whiskey to get Auntie drunk enough not to cry. She kept Pat on her feet as she went to the kitchen to get Auntie booze. Aunt Mercy ushered in her widowhood with gin and tonic with lime on the rocks. At twenty-one Pat was still girlish but old enough to learn how to mix drinks during a wake. Her bridegroom, Bob, was huddled with the men but quiet as a church mouse while letting...
#love
#marriage
#death
#TruthOfLife
#nostalgia
56 reads
2 Comments
Camp Counselor Crush
Camp Counselor Crush
Summer in New Orleans was artichokes dipped in sour cream, plantains ripening in the backyard, and ready to be fried by Mom in a skillet to sweeten my boyish tongue with tropical flavors that summoned the Tarzan in my heart. When Mom baked baklava in the oven the scent was as sweet as the smile of the ladies who strolled the streets of the neighborhood on their evening walks wearing scarves like the Turkish maidens in the pictures from the village of Yalova on the shores of the Sea of Marmara that I only saw in slides from my Dad’s projector.
...
Summer in New Orleans was artichokes dipped in sour cream, plantains ripening in the backyard, and ready to be fried by Mom in a skillet to sweeten my boyish tongue with tropical flavors that summoned the Tarzan in my heart. When Mom baked baklava in the oven the scent was as sweet as the smile of the ladies who strolled the streets of the neighborhood on their evening walks wearing scarves like the Turkish maidens in the pictures from the village of Yalova on the shores of the Sea of Marmara that I only saw in slides from my Dad’s projector.
...
#mother
#women
#childhood
#crush
#son
64 reads
2 Comments
Sunk Deep in Baton Rouge
Sunk Deep in Baton Rouge
“Hello Pops. Sorry to intrude on my wonderfully studious young man in the middle of deep tort contemplations, but I have a little problem. Our house has flooded. So here I am with no adult assistance with our three-year-old son and the water, water is everywhere to borrow a phrase from Coleridge’s ‘Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner.’ Could you get in that wonderful jalopy your Mom bought for us and take us to dry ground?”
“The car is flooded as well I am afraid. I am at the chapel on campus. Wait just a short while and I am sure the car will revive...
“Hello Pops. Sorry to intrude on my wonderfully studious young man in the middle of deep tort contemplations, but I have a little problem. Our house has flooded. So here I am with no adult assistance with our three-year-old son and the water, water is everywhere to borrow a phrase from Coleridge’s ‘Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner.’ Could you get in that wonderful jalopy your Mom bought for us and take us to dry ground?”
“The car is flooded as well I am afraid. I am at the chapel on campus. Wait just a short while and I am sure the car will revive...
#loneliness
#mother
#father
#marriage
#son
58 reads
0 Comments
Sugar Festival Night
Sugar Festival Night
“Bob, why do you sit there reading news magazines all afternoon? Wouldn’t chatting with your beautiful wife be more interesting? You did marry me after all. And we are in Turkey. We speak the language. Let’s go out and mingle with the crowd.”
“Pat, I know being home while I am working at the base must get lonely. But I will make it up to you. Tonight we are going to the Sugar Festival.”
“I’ve heard about it from the general’s wife while gardening and being patient for your return as a proper wife should.”
“There will be dancers,...
“Bob, why do you sit there reading news magazines all afternoon? Wouldn’t chatting with your beautiful wife be more interesting? You did marry me after all. And we are in Turkey. We speak the language. Let’s go out and mingle with the crowd.”
“Pat, I know being home while I am working at the base must get lonely. But I will make it up to you. Tonight we are going to the Sugar Festival.”
“I’ve heard about it from the general’s wife while gardening and being patient for your return as a proper wife should.”
“There will be dancers,...
#loneliness
#mother
#father
#marriage
#TruthOfLife
45 reads
0 Comments
Lost Love Haiku from the Cafe
Lost Love Haiku from the Cafe
her lost voice
in the meadowlark song
outside his window
newspaper clipping
daguerreotype of sweetheart
married to a stranger
the crescent moon
of her once upon a time slipper
transits his tears
timbre
of her mezzo soprano
memory echo
golden opportunity
a locomotive barreling by
his freight train blues
jewelry box
holds the diamond ring
she once wore for him
her lost voice
in the meadowlark song
outside his window
newspaper clipping
daguerreotype of sweetheart
married to a stranger
the crescent moon
of her once upon a time slipper
transits his tears
timbre
of her mezzo soprano
memory echo
golden opportunity
a locomotive barreling by
his freight train blues
jewelry box
holds the diamond ring
she once wore for him
#love
#heartbroken
#breakup
#haiku
#memories
107 reads
2 Comments
Mourning Haiku from the Cafe
Mourning Haiku from the Cafe
mud on his grave
grows buttercups
for her spring blues
deep dirt
buries his casket
her heart wails
dust in her eyes
from his windblown grave
her tombstone blues
her tresses fly free
from the Mississippi delta blues
no more tears
she wipes dust
from his name etched in marble
tomb of no regrets
sentimental blues
sing in her mourning heart
her teary smile
mud on his grave
grows buttercups
for her spring blues
deep dirt
buries his casket
her heart wails
dust in her eyes
from his windblown grave
her tombstone blues
her tresses fly free
from the Mississippi delta blues
no more tears
she wipes dust
from his name etched in marble
tomb of no regrets
sentimental blues
sing in her mourning heart
her teary smile
#love
#grief
#haiku
#memorial
#graveyard
61 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by goldenmyst