Submissions by 123 (tejean)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Rum Poem
Rum poem
I stopped
Writing for a while
A long while in fact.
But the howl and hunger
And rum
Trickled me back to the page.
This page.
I realise I want
To write myself different -
To write myself new again.
The rum only washes so far
But the page is always blank
And just by writing that -
I feel better already
And can see a new me
A new tomorrow -
But, damn, the rum may
Piss all over that
And maybe I'll wake up tommorow
Having forgotten the new me
I stopped
Writing for a while
A long while in fact.
But the howl and hunger
And rum
Trickled me back to the page.
This page.
I realise I want
To write myself different -
To write myself new again.
The rum only washes so far
But the page is always blank
And just by writing that -
I feel better already
And can see a new me
A new tomorrow -
But, damn, the rum may
Piss all over that
And maybe I'll wake up tommorow
Having forgotten the new me
946 reads
3 Comments
Auxerre
Sat under a sun cover
watching these mad fucking French
drivers
I break bread
and drift in the noise
becoming oblivious
to the potential of this
uncoordinated motion.
Beside the speed and anger
I am slow,
drowning
beside the river evening
watching the distant crows
swim in patterns.
A long family
walks by
forlorn parents
and four tall boys
stopping at the menu.
Lining up with the view
I remember why the
solitude is
mine
watching these mad fucking French
drivers
I break bread
and drift in the noise
becoming oblivious
to the potential of this
uncoordinated motion.
Beside the speed and anger
I am slow,
drowning
beside the river evening
watching the distant crows
swim in patterns.
A long family
walks by
forlorn parents
and four tall boys
stopping at the menu.
Lining up with the view
I remember why the
solitude is
mine
622 reads
0 Comments
pure
<<<>>>
Walk down Rue Moret
Number 13, Cantada II,
it's the bar
you find
from the Couronnes Metro stop -
Metro line 2.
Drink Absinthe
poured over a sugar cube
and wait
Walk down Rue Moret
Number 13, Cantada II,
it's the bar
you find
from the Couronnes Metro stop -
Metro line 2.
Drink Absinthe
poured over a sugar cube
and wait
749 reads
5 Comments
Ali
>
>
>
>
"Ali!"
She had just hit up
in the train toilet
now sleeping head on knee
sat opposite me
as her girlfriends call her name
"Ali....!"
Seventeen years
old, this black princess
lost in her own mind
en route to Auxerre
wasting herself on my charm
"Ali, Ali!"
>
>
>
>
Skin pores and arm hair
alive to the moment
despite her...
>
>
>
"Ali!"
She had just hit up
in the train toilet
now sleeping head on knee
sat opposite me
as her girlfriends call her name
"Ali....!"
Seventeen years
old, this black princess
lost in her own mind
en route to Auxerre
wasting herself on my charm
"Ali, Ali!"
>
>
>
>
Skin pores and arm hair
alive to the moment
despite her...
688 reads
2 Comments
Yesterday. All day
Yesterday. All day
Lots of memories
not much sense
this haze gives me
the strangest comfort
unexplainable -
just like watching water.
I've woken with
black city grime under the tips
of my fingernails
and I'm pissing orange
on this bloodless
Sunday
All day
under the fastest clouds
I try and recover myself .
Many people have died
on days like this
but I think I may just make it
Lots of memories
not much sense
this haze gives me
the strangest comfort
unexplainable -
just like watching water.
I've woken with
black city grime under the tips
of my fingernails
and I'm pissing orange
on this bloodless
Sunday
All day
under the fastest clouds
I try and recover myself .
Many people have died
on days like this
but I think I may just make it
691 reads
0 Comments
Another
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Another
slow day under the weight
of a full glass.
Only the television sweats -
and I am blurred;
burdened by the lethargic straw
of Dutch beer
I could just be
a shadow on the wall
but when I drink
I will always be more.
Just depends how long
I can keep the charade up
841 reads
2 Comments
Margarita marriage
For some its more than seven
when the heart is stripped
and the leaves are torn
away
the seeping sap distilled
to a cruel honey -
bittersweet in
the twelfth year
who would call,
silver or blue
this tequila poison intoxicates
reminding of you
when the heart is stripped
and the leaves are torn
away
the seeping sap distilled
to a cruel honey -
bittersweet in
the twelfth year
who would call,
silver or blue
this tequila poison intoxicates
reminding of you
821 reads
4 Comments
Grumble
After three quarters
of a bottle
and just a dash of lemonade
I've realised
that I've been able to see
the angel
for the last 5 years
If I'd only looked;
sometimes it takes
an altered state
or the sound of a distant jet engine
to find something
of a bottle
and just a dash of lemonade
I've realised
that I've been able to see
the angel
for the last 5 years
If I'd only looked;
sometimes it takes
an altered state
or the sound of a distant jet engine
to find something
662 reads
3 Comments
Happy Haiku
If hedonism
could kill me then I would
die a happy man
could kill me then I would
die a happy man
880 reads
6 Comments
Wild horses
I could grow to hate those wild horses
stood skinny like west end models
huddled at the razor wire;
pretty faced prisoners of war.
They get their sugar lumps
in literal hand outs
and tear the hearts from
the innocent, just by being there
stood skinny like west end models
huddled at the razor wire;
pretty faced prisoners of war.
They get their sugar lumps
in literal hand outs
and tear the hearts from
the innocent, just by being there
830 reads
5 Comments
Landfall
Those minds from the past,
they knew about people like me -
Knew we'd drink Merlot
on a Boeing plane and fly right over
Goose bay, writing landfall
imagining ourselves
at the doors of a brave new world
while listening to Rolls Royce engines
muffled behind Avicii
and Romero
They knew that
we'd feel like this
and that right now,
we'd remember them
they knew about people like me -
Knew we'd drink Merlot
on a Boeing plane and fly right over
Goose bay, writing landfall
imagining ourselves
at the doors of a brave new world
while listening to Rolls Royce engines
muffled behind Avicii
and Romero
They knew that
we'd feel like this
and that right now,
we'd remember them
692 reads
4 Comments
Language
The sun doesn't shine
in another
language
and the frost settles
on a windscreen
wherever it is cold;
the key to understanding
is not seeing
the difference
in another
language
and the frost settles
on a windscreen
wherever it is cold;
the key to understanding
is not seeing
the difference
727 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by 123 (tejean)