Submissions by Alviola
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th Mar 2024 11:03am
6th Mar 2024 11:03am
It's the Seconds that Matter Now
The bed is quicksand, the blanket warm
and leaden around my legs, so I
slither out of the room and its clutches,
punch the button that wakes the coffee maker,
that starts the rumbling and the chortling
which is the time to reach for a mug
from the dish rack, lay it on the cup plate
of the machine about to belch brown mud
I fill a glass with water and a splash
of apple cider vinegar, stir
then walk over to my meds, to pop ...
and leaden around my legs, so I
slither out of the room and its clutches,
punch the button that wakes the coffee maker,
that starts the rumbling and the chortling
which is the time to reach for a mug
from the dish rack, lay it on the cup plate
of the machine about to belch brown mud
I fill a glass with water and a splash
of apple cider vinegar, stir
then walk over to my meds, to pop ...
#aging
#job
167 reads
7 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th Dec 2023 11:56pm
26th Dec 2023 11:56pm
The Bliss of Old Socks
I toss brand new socks back and rifle
through drawers for solace and kindness
The old ones surrender and smile at me
the garters have given up they are
indolent around the ankles while
flesh peeps through threadbare cloth at the heels
Neckties hang in the order they were
hung long ago, ay, that was another lifetime
the days when socks rode high and denting skin
I do not put on socks but comfort,
do I mind if people see my bare legs?
I will cross them, pop one ankle on a knee ...
through drawers for solace and kindness
The old ones surrender and smile at me
the garters have given up they are
indolent around the ankles while
flesh peeps through threadbare cloth at the heels
Neckties hang in the order they were
hung long ago, ay, that was another lifetime
the days when socks rode high and denting skin
I do not put on socks but comfort,
do I mind if people see my bare legs?
I will cross them, pop one ankle on a knee ...
#happiness
#LifeCycle
#aging
#freedom
#wisdom
242 reads
7 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
24th Dec 2023 8:29pm
24th Dec 2023 8:29pm
Fathers and Sons of Gaza
He does not look at the child in his arms
he looks only ahead, his feet fly
at the spur of worry, does a child
weigh less when it loses playfulness?
he does not look at the child in his arms
The stagger of his run make the limbs
of the child sway, giving a semblance
of breathing, his arms tighten to keep
the pieces from falling, he searches
for succor in the eyes of other men
he meets only quiet hopelessness
sitting on rubble of erstwhile homes.
he looks only ahead, his feet fly
at the spur of worry, does a child
weigh less when it loses playfulness?
he does not look at the child in his arms
The stagger of his run make the limbs
of the child sway, giving a semblance
of breathing, his arms tighten to keep
the pieces from falling, he searches
for succor in the eyes of other men
he meets only quiet hopelessness
sitting on rubble of erstwhile homes.
#sadness
#children
#parent
#war
#death
267 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
30th Nov 2023 10:15am
30th Nov 2023 10:15am
That we be like dogs
She leaps into the car, her tail
electrified, the window rolled
down so she can poke her head out
savor the town's fragrances
a cornucopia of scents, a rush
she cannot know roaming nearby.
What if parents told children to
poke their heads out of car windows
have their feet find asphalt
nearer homes of the unshod, to prowl
past broken doors, to know the clatter
of empty feeding bowls, to hear
not just the screech of classroom chairs
on vinyl floors and the howl of audiences
in ball games...
electrified, the window rolled
down so she can poke her head out
savor the town's fragrances
a cornucopia of scents, a rush
she cannot know roaming nearby.
What if parents told children to
poke their heads out of car windows
have their feet find asphalt
nearer homes of the unshod, to prowl
past broken doors, to know the clatter
of empty feeding bowls, to hear
not just the screech of classroom chairs
on vinyl floors and the howl of audiences
in ball games...
#school
#inequality
#poverty #apathy
#poverty #apathy
198 reads
12 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Nov 2023 2:15am
25th Nov 2023 2:15am
You think what you don't see won't hurt you
She is twitchy, her skin trembling,
she leans back with head raised, eyes wide,
nostrils flared, shifting her weight from
one leg to the other, she paws the ground
Horses are a nervous lot, what she
does not understand, she sees
as dangerous, so blinders are worn
so she can only see what is ahead:
Children grimy, wordless with empty
bowls and eyes that scream, she sees
the corrupt man cross the road, but
these, that man, she has seen before
But...
she leans back with head raised, eyes wide,
nostrils flared, shifting her weight from
one leg to the other, she paws the ground
Horses are a nervous lot, what she
does not understand, she sees
as dangerous, so blinders are worn
so she can only see what is ahead:
Children grimy, wordless with empty
bowls and eyes that scream, she sees
the corrupt man cross the road, but
these, that man, she has seen before
But...
#corruption
#HumanRights
#inequality #poverty
#inequality #poverty
161 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
19th Sep 2023 6:07pm
19th Sep 2023 6:07pm
Molave's Secret
Molave flows into hammers then hands
and shoulders of bridges and railroad ties,
a hardwood chosen for forever.
Light gold in interlocking stripes swarming
the expanse of beds and dining tables,
around torsos of heavy furniture
but it shivers when the day changes,
complains with loud reports --barks!
plate tectonics in timber stirring me
in the dark, insinuating into dreams,
in sleep already distressed, like gunshots
in the night but inside the bedroom.
...
and shoulders of bridges and railroad ties,
a hardwood chosen for forever.
Light gold in interlocking stripes swarming
the expanse of beds and dining tables,
around torsos of heavy furniture
but it shivers when the day changes,
complains with loud reports --barks!
plate tectonics in timber stirring me
in the dark, insinuating into dreams,
in sleep already distressed, like gunshots
in the night but inside the bedroom.
...
#disappointment
#heroic
#fear #vulnerability
#fear #vulnerability
197 reads
10 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th Aug 2023 3:48pm
15th Aug 2023 3:48pm
Soldier Boys in the Flea Market
In the unairconditioned fuss
of a flea market
two American soldier boys
haggled with a young Filipina selling
knives and tools and flashlights
they moved on, to scout for cheaper
presumably,
and passing me
one sniggered to the other
"Did you hear what she said?
-- 'buy one, take me!'"
I swear the day groaned, I chucked
what I wanted to buy back
into the pile of knives and tools
flashlights and bedraggled virtues
of a flea market
two American soldier boys
haggled with a young Filipina selling
knives and tools and flashlights
they moved on, to scout for cheaper
presumably,
and passing me
one sniggered to the other
"Did you hear what she said?
-- 'buy one, take me!'"
I swear the day groaned, I chucked
what I wanted to buy back
into the pile of knives and tools
flashlights and bedraggled virtues
#sadness
#anger
166 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
23rd Jul 2023 4:18pm
23rd Jul 2023 4:18pm
Another Door
She did not come by way of heart
She came through skull
And stayed a night
There she hung her songs, pitched tent
Then argued, asked and wildly axxed.
She did not come by way of wink
By courtly summoning of lash
She came through skull
And stayed to parley
She did not come by way of heart
But packed her tongue, moved in to stay.
She came through skull
And stayed a night
There she hung her songs, pitched tent
Then argued, asked and wildly axxed.
She did not come by way of wink
By courtly summoning of lash
She came through skull
And stayed to parley
She did not come by way of heart
But packed her tongue, moved in to stay.
#admiration
256 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd May 2023 12:56pm
3rd May 2023 12:56pm
The Strangers They Become
Children disappear into the grownups
they become, into adult chassis,
behind facial hair, they vanish
into ghost chasers, into bearers of lore
and wisdom and agents of art
we did not see written on the wall.
The formerly frolicsome, children
who ran about in pointless patterns,
they disappear into frowns and causes
The trinkets and trophies sleep in drawers
no longer drawn, fingers now beringed
by graduations or chapel rites.
The clingy and the ones you could leave
alone...
they become, into adult chassis,
behind facial hair, they vanish
into ghost chasers, into bearers of lore
and wisdom and agents of art
we did not see written on the wall.
The formerly frolicsome, children
who ran about in pointless patterns,
they disappear into frowns and causes
The trinkets and trophies sleep in drawers
no longer drawn, fingers now beringed
by graduations or chapel rites.
The clingy and the ones you could leave
alone...
#parent
#teens
#childhood
#LifeCycle
#aging
269 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Apr 2023 4:15pm
18th Apr 2023 4:15pm
The Last Time I Saw Him Not Smiling
The glasses of beer were raised more often
clinked with less care as the night progressed
the last time I saw him laugh himself red
When I peered into his room months later,
he was grumbling and fanning his loins
hospital sheets tossed in a wide tumble
the painter's gentle hand gripped my arm
with the burliness of pain, his nails
dug into my flesh to own my eyes
The last time I saw him not smiling
he glowered for my full attention
as one could of a close friend really
his eyes sought to tell me how...
clinked with less care as the night progressed
the last time I saw him laugh himself red
When I peered into his room months later,
he was grumbling and fanning his loins
hospital sheets tossed in a wide tumble
the painter's gentle hand gripped my arm
with the burliness of pain, his nails
dug into my flesh to own my eyes
The last time I saw him not smiling
he glowered for my full attention
as one could of a close friend really
his eyes sought to tell me how...
#sadness
#friendship
#death #illness
#death #illness
363 reads
14 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Apr 2023 11:03am
12th Apr 2023 11:03am
Baby Pictures of a Universe
We will reach back into time and hope
to catch echoes of the hand of God,
just after the swizzling of the waters,
after joyfully making many
He hung the planets on trees of light
while shy galaxies peep from behind
cosmic cliffs, waiting, the wakes of each
finger limning ghostly jets and swirls
We see his breath in nurseries of stars,
here was a god pleased with handiwork,
creating not yet soured by creation
Did he balk before making the man?
Did he sigh when it crawled out, traded
fins for limbs,...
to catch echoes of the hand of God,
just after the swizzling of the waters,
after joyfully making many
He hung the planets on trees of light
while shy galaxies peep from behind
cosmic cliffs, waiting, the wakes of each
finger limning ghostly jets and swirls
We see his breath in nurseries of stars,
here was a god pleased with handiwork,
creating not yet soured by creation
Did he balk before making the man?
Did he sigh when it crawled out, traded
fins for limbs,...
#science
#universe
#God
#humankind
#astronomy
229 reads
7 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
1st Apr 2023 10:26am
1st Apr 2023 10:26am
Stress Test
The chest tightens as I struggle to stay longer on the treadmill. It is an early stage. “Look forward, think of something pleasant, a pleasant time in your life,” the doctor advised.
I walk into warm waters, into a strait of
wavelets drawing the edge of Toledo City
I walk until I can not, until
I have to use my arms and legs
Chest knotting, I pause while paddling
to look back at the shore, at life, at work
'How are you feeling, sir?'
The treadmill inclines with a loud whir
and I feel the sand between my toes...
I walk into warm waters, into a strait of
wavelets drawing the edge of Toledo City
I walk until I can not, until
I have to use my arms and legs
Chest knotting, I pause while paddling
to look back at the shore, at life, at work
'How are you feeling, sir?'
The treadmill inclines with a loud whir
and I feel the sand between my toes...
#aging
#nostalgia
208 reads
13 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Alviola
