Submissions by Ace_Avery (Clint Avery)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Words are my life. Writing poetry for 20 years. It's one of the greatest loves of mine. I have hopes of becoming a published/payed writer. Feel free to comment, or message me about my writing/questions you may have.I appreciate any interest in my work.
Price To Pay
She had a temperature
higher
than a church spire,
Sunday
afternoon in June.
A believer
in the way
the wind would make her
dress dance.
She blew
cigarette smoke through
her
dyed blue hair.
She kissed her
under the cold
stare
of empty eyes.
When she was sweet
sixteen
it was cold,
frightening to be
outside freezing in December
without a coat,
only her skin.
Hers was one Hell
of a soul
for sale.
higher
than a church spire,
Sunday
afternoon in June.
A believer
in the way
the wind would make her
dress dance.
She blew
cigarette smoke through
her
dyed blue hair.
She kissed her
under the cold
stare
of empty eyes.
When she was sweet
sixteen
it was cold,
frightening to be
outside freezing in December
without a coat,
only her skin.
Hers was one Hell
of a soul
for sale.
627 reads
0 Comments
Star Dust
She was
written
into my light
between
a poem
and a puff of smoke.
There was an ember
along the lines
that set my heart
ablaze,
like a wild fire in me
awoke.
Electric current,
a pleasure to touch,
like a man
made member,
a fuse in the rough.
Over loaded
with a sense of lust,
the yearn for more
skin and star dust.
written
into my light
between
a poem
and a puff of smoke.
There was an ember
along the lines
that set my heart
ablaze,
like a wild fire in me
awoke.
Electric current,
a pleasure to touch,
like a man
made member,
a fuse in the rough.
Over loaded
with a sense of lust,
the yearn for more
skin and star dust.
839 reads
4 Comments
A Trail of Black
Hooked on
making mistakes,
tied up
in knots and lingerie.
She's addicted
to the feeling
of fucking
goodbyes.
The way she walks
down
the street
can make his heart
stop.
Her look lacks
colour,
there's black
in the middle
of her eyes;
tight leather
between her thighs.
Metal spikes
dance on her
shoulders,
dark denim
with tears across her
chest
change her from damsel
to distressed.
She's bad,
and he damn well better ...
making mistakes,
tied up
in knots and lingerie.
She's addicted
to the feeling
of fucking
goodbyes.
The way she walks
down
the street
can make his heart
stop.
Her look lacks
colour,
there's black
in the middle
of her eyes;
tight leather
between her thighs.
Metal spikes
dance on her
shoulders,
dark denim
with tears across her
chest
change her from damsel
to distressed.
She's bad,
and he damn well better ...
833 reads
0 Comments
Candy Suite
Her skin
had the fragrance
of pixie stick
lies.
She was his sugar
fix
between fucks
and goodbyes;
the blue eyeshadow
bombshell in the morning,
the black nails
before coffee.
Safety
phrase;
savage sex,
sticky toffee.
She smoked a cigar
after her soul
had been stripped
of its dollars worth.
Little did she know
she was
an irregular birth.
It gave her
the ability
to turn on
the addict
and shut off
the human.
had the fragrance
of pixie stick
lies.
She was his sugar
fix
between fucks
and goodbyes;
the blue eyeshadow
bombshell in the morning,
the black nails
before coffee.
Safety
phrase;
savage sex,
sticky toffee.
She smoked a cigar
after her soul
had been stripped
of its dollars worth.
Little did she know
she was
an irregular birth.
It gave her
the ability
to turn on
the addict
and shut off
the human.
744 reads
2 Comments
Broken Filter
His shakey, cigarette
hand is stained yellow,
like a dead canary
hit by a passing car.
The cravings take over
like a missed meal,
his stomach and lungs empty;
he orders another drink from the bar.
There is no telling where
his heart will head
when the booze kick in,
even if he doesn't light a smoke.
The night will pour on,
like it does with every ounce.
The feeling he gets is stronger
than it ever could from being dead broke.
hand is stained yellow,
like a dead canary
hit by a passing car.
The cravings take over
like a missed meal,
his stomach and lungs empty;
he orders another drink from the bar.
There is no telling where
his heart will head
when the booze kick in,
even if he doesn't light a smoke.
The night will pour on,
like it does with every ounce.
The feeling he gets is stronger
than it ever could from being dead broke.
620 reads
7 Comments
Picture Book
I was in the classroom, book ripped/
bullies in the schoolyard, everybody took it/
from the kicks, to the licks from the teachers/
voices loud and quiet, timid little creatures/
The stress and fear had me locked up/
inside on a sunny day, writing lines, chalked up/
like I had done something wrong, mentally broken/
I didn't want to leave the house, basically unspoken/
They threw me down the metal slide, tears in my eyes/
teachers were too distracted with the two other guys/
Came home that day with cuts on my hands and knees/
who knew those...
bullies in the schoolyard, everybody took it/
from the kicks, to the licks from the teachers/
voices loud and quiet, timid little creatures/
The stress and fear had me locked up/
inside on a sunny day, writing lines, chalked up/
like I had done something wrong, mentally broken/
I didn't want to leave the house, basically unspoken/
They threw me down the metal slide, tears in my eyes/
teachers were too distracted with the two other guys/
Came home that day with cuts on my hands and knees/
who knew those...
533 reads
1 Comment
Run Free
The water looked like glass.
Her glasses had a red frame.
The barn's frame was cracked.
Her cracked mirror split her reflection.
She reflected on the moon's face.
Her face was coloured like a rainbow.
The rainbow came after the rain broke.
She broke the barrier of self silence.
Her silence kept him from using his fists.
His loud fists hurt her hearing.
She kept hearing voices telling her to run.
She tried to run, but he caught her quick.
The cut was quick, he didn't see the knife.
She held the knife behind her back.
Her...
Her glasses had a red frame.
The barn's frame was cracked.
Her cracked mirror split her reflection.
She reflected on the moon's face.
Her face was coloured like a rainbow.
The rainbow came after the rain broke.
She broke the barrier of self silence.
Her silence kept him from using his fists.
His loud fists hurt her hearing.
She kept hearing voices telling her to run.
She tried to run, but he caught her quick.
The cut was quick, he didn't see the knife.
She held the knife behind her back.
Her...
583 reads
0 Comments
30 Left
You can try to get ahead/
Rise up early and get out of bed/
But all they do is cut you back/
Chop you down like a little lumber Jack/
Your bones ache from the physical labour/
No stength to lift a finger, so you linger/
There on the couch and turn off your ringer/
No cell service, because the ratea are too high/
And all you can do is scrape by/
With the change in your pocket/
No longer is there a picture in her locket/
You feel like a forgotten colour/
Cold, no warmth from a lover/
She left like there was no right turn/
Now you lay...
Rise up early and get out of bed/
But all they do is cut you back/
Chop you down like a little lumber Jack/
Your bones ache from the physical labour/
No stength to lift a finger, so you linger/
There on the couch and turn off your ringer/
No cell service, because the ratea are too high/
And all you can do is scrape by/
With the change in your pocket/
No longer is there a picture in her locket/
You feel like a forgotten colour/
Cold, no warmth from a lover/
She left like there was no right turn/
Now you lay...
443 reads
0 Comments
Spring Cleaning
There are pieces of me they've stolen,
those parts I will never get back,
there are sides to me they've changed,
maybe they're the reason I wear all black.
I've had my heart ground to slop,
it's these feeling that soak into the mop,
when I try to clean up this mess of me,
all I can do is ring out this stress in me.
Now what I have left is a bucket of love,
mixed with pain, blood and a few grams of drugs,
the smell makes me sick like a disease,
no wonder I get addicted to them with ease.
those parts I will never get back,
there are sides to me they've changed,
maybe they're the reason I wear all black.
I've had my heart ground to slop,
it's these feeling that soak into the mop,
when I try to clean up this mess of me,
all I can do is ring out this stress in me.
Now what I have left is a bucket of love,
mixed with pain, blood and a few grams of drugs,
the smell makes me sick like a disease,
no wonder I get addicted to them with ease.
610 reads
0 Comments
Light Steps
Love can feel like a minefield
in the early hours of the morning,
when the grass is still wet
from the rain and the smell
of lightening lingers in the air.
The field looks beautiful and green,
droplets of water reflecting
off the light of the rising sun,
but underneath such beauty
lies a danger of losing
the one you hold closest
to your heart if too many
heavy words are spoken.
It's like you step in the place
where a trigger is touched
and there is nothing you can do,
but wait and figure a way to balance
the...
in the early hours of the morning,
when the grass is still wet
from the rain and the smell
of lightening lingers in the air.
The field looks beautiful and green,
droplets of water reflecting
off the light of the rising sun,
but underneath such beauty
lies a danger of losing
the one you hold closest
to your heart if too many
heavy words are spoken.
It's like you step in the place
where a trigger is touched
and there is nothing you can do,
but wait and figure a way to balance
the...
585 reads
1 Comment
Mi Amore
When you've run so far and you can't breathe/ just remember who you left so you could be/ something more than a pillow to fight/ more than just a black eye late at night/ a beautiful flower instead of a rock in the dirt/ or a passionate kiss instead of lips that only hurt/ forget the way you used to look at yourself in the mirror/ you no longer need to see your pain any clearer/ no more looking over your shoulder when a door slams over/ no more searching the fields for that one lucky clover/ you can finally be yourself, not who you were told to be/ your life is yours to cherish, now that you...
585 reads
1 Comment
Pray for Love
1st verse:
It's just another day, waking up with my alarm clock ringing for work/ gotta get up and get ready to make it on time as a sales associate clerk/ one of the lucky few, I suppose, to get an old english amount of hours a week/ not sure how anyone can pay their bills with anything less, the future looks bleak/ 'cause the interest rates are rising and debt is an all too common thing/ It's hard to believe that we can escape our government's hand when we haven't vowed to give them a ring/ but they take nearly half the money we earn and give it to those who don't even lift a...
It's just another day, waking up with my alarm clock ringing for work/ gotta get up and get ready to make it on time as a sales associate clerk/ one of the lucky few, I suppose, to get an old english amount of hours a week/ not sure how anyone can pay their bills with anything less, the future looks bleak/ 'cause the interest rates are rising and debt is an all too common thing/ It's hard to believe that we can escape our government's hand when we haven't vowed to give them a ring/ but they take nearly half the money we earn and give it to those who don't even lift a...
679 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Ace_Avery (Clint Avery)