Submissions by AnnaKissedMe
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I don't write Poetry, or even poetry; just fragments that work for me on some level - confessional, inspirational, release or entertainment.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
25th Jan 2016 12:57pm
25th Jan 2016 12:57pm
Poetess
Dense phrases populate your writing
(I'll teaze them out one day)
and multi-layered metaphors
infuse the heady mix
in this kitchen of ideas
But there is no recipe
no guidance and no clue
to what it is you're baking
and I am f(l)oundering
I look for seams between your well formed words
and find that they are fused
grown as some nut I'll never crack -
(a seed pod of mystery)
it will not spill its seed
Is it tiny grains of truth I'm looking for
or do I take the whole
a dish artfully formed ...
(I'll teaze them out one day)
and multi-layered metaphors
infuse the heady mix
in this kitchen of ideas
But there is no recipe
no guidance and no clue
to what it is you're baking
and I am f(l)oundering
I look for seams between your well formed words
and find that they are fused
grown as some nut I'll never crack -
(a seed pod of mystery)
it will not spill its seed
Is it tiny grains of truth I'm looking for
or do I take the whole
a dish artfully formed ...
717 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
19th Jan 2016 9:28am
19th Jan 2016 9:28am
The haunted
Past injuries are never that; and
those who injured us once, again and again,
injure us still, again and again
reinjured we go into the world,
cover our wounds to hide our hurt
from those who would do to us;
run with the herd all the while keeping safe distance
and like stray cats driven by need come nearer
but never so close, never so near, as to risk
ultimate contact.
those who injured us once, again and again,
injure us still, again and again
reinjured we go into the world,
cover our wounds to hide our hurt
from those who would do to us;
run with the herd all the while keeping safe distance
and like stray cats driven by need come nearer
but never so close, never so near, as to risk
ultimate contact.
617 reads
8 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
18th Jan 2016 9:11am
18th Jan 2016 9:11am
Mr Sparkles
There's a glittering darkness in you, she said
Oh... the darkness isn't mine,
another put it there
Yes, I know.
But what of the glitter?
That is you and has always been...
What if the darkness wasn't there,
would you still see glitter?
Oh yes, it's radiant you know;
but it shines all there more
against the darkened 'ground
and the darkness never dulls it
Not one bit.
Oh... the darkness isn't mine,
another put it there
Yes, I know.
But what of the glitter?
That is you and has always been...
What if the darkness wasn't there,
would you still see glitter?
Oh yes, it's radiant you know;
but it shines all there more
against the darkened 'ground
and the darkness never dulls it
Not one bit.
623 reads
9 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Jan 2016 9:01am
18th Jan 2016 9:01am
Limerick limerick
I fell foul of the limerist's curse
I forgot: in the writing of verse
inattention to rhyme
is a bad enough crime
but corruption of meter is worse.
I forgot: in the writing of verse
inattention to rhyme
is a bad enough crime
but corruption of meter is worse.
#limerick
761 reads
7 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
14th Jan 2016 8:20pm
14th Jan 2016 8:20pm
Ambivalence
I can't remember when I abjured love
at first it was unconcious
love wasn't much in evidence;
and then, after failed attempts to find it
the decision became, well, concious
lust, love's fucked-up bedmate
was next up for the chop;
lust gets a person going
going with others
others you wouldn't look at sideways
in the abscence of lust
and for that very reason
I abjured lust as well;
but lust's a toughie to eradicate
(though I have a program of control)
see, lust's in with dumb biology ...
at first it was unconcious
love wasn't much in evidence;
and then, after failed attempts to find it
the decision became, well, concious
lust, love's fucked-up bedmate
was next up for the chop;
lust gets a person going
going with others
others you wouldn't look at sideways
in the abscence of lust
and for that very reason
I abjured lust as well;
but lust's a toughie to eradicate
(though I have a program of control)
see, lust's in with dumb biology ...
690 reads
12 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
14th Jan 2016 10:53am
14th Jan 2016 10:53am
Squeeze box momma
We had a thang, we had a thang
I think ya knew it was gettin' Freudian
when ya realised I played ya like
a big momma piana 'ccordion.
[to be read in the voice o' Big Daddy]
I think ya knew it was gettin' Freudian
when ya realised I played ya like
a big momma piana 'ccordion.
[to be read in the voice o' Big Daddy]
676 reads
6 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Jan 2016 4:56pm
13th Jan 2016 4:56pm
Late evening visitors
We sipped french champagne
well, french Methode Traditionnelle
from french champagne flutes
well, they were cheap Arcoroc
as your french dog looked on
well, half-french, his breed
as we talked about friends and not friends
lovers and not lovers
mothers and not mothers
and took selfies together
that late eventide
and I knew our friendship was real
as were our well wishes
when the parting time came
and you and the dog
slipped silently into the night.
(footnote: the dog may be more...
well, french Methode Traditionnelle
from french champagne flutes
well, they were cheap Arcoroc
as your french dog looked on
well, half-french, his breed
as we talked about friends and not friends
lovers and not lovers
mothers and not mothers
and took selfies together
that late eventide
and I knew our friendship was real
as were our well wishes
when the parting time came
and you and the dog
slipped silently into the night.
(footnote: the dog may be more...
637 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Jan 2016 11:03pm
12th Jan 2016 11:03pm
Writing's a punny old game...
I once applied for a job as a joke writer
but I didn't get it.
I almost became a ghost writer
but I saw right through their offer.
A guy once asked me to write his autobiography
but I said it just isn't me.
I nearly became a paperback writer
but the market went soft.
I nearly became a writer of fiction
but I couldn't imagine myself doing it.
They asked me to write my autobiography
but I told them I need more information.
but I didn't get it.
I almost became a ghost writer
but I saw right through their offer.
A guy once asked me to write his autobiography
but I said it just isn't me.
I nearly became a paperback writer
but the market went soft.
I nearly became a writer of fiction
but I couldn't imagine myself doing it.
They asked me to write my autobiography
but I told them I need more information.
519 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
12th Jan 2016 3:36pm
12th Jan 2016 3:36pm
Desecration
Life desecrates the child within us all;
when life neglects to wield the bleeding scourge
we feel duty bound to follow on
from whence neglectful life deferred.
when life neglects to wield the bleeding scourge
we feel duty bound to follow on
from whence neglectful life deferred.
655 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
11th Jan 2016 8:27am
11th Jan 2016 8:27am
Kiss of leather
Scent and sheen of leather
lies obediently at my side
awaiting the command
of wrist and foream
faithful springer lurches forward
speedy child of acceleration and intent
tapered tongue of premeditated lust
reaches out to find its loving target
thirsting flesh invites the speedster
through parted thighs spread wide
a perfect pairing of loved and lover
as the soaring tip snakes upward
to make its silken strike.
lies obediently at my side
awaiting the command
of wrist and foream
faithful springer lurches forward
speedy child of acceleration and intent
tapered tongue of premeditated lust
reaches out to find its loving target
thirsting flesh invites the speedster
through parted thighs spread wide
a perfect pairing of loved and lover
as the soaring tip snakes upward
to make its silken strike.
605 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Jan 2016 2:23am
10th Jan 2016 2:23am
Home town lower North Island
There's a gap in the fence where
nails have parted company with wood
and the fourbytwo is swinging in the breeze
the wind slipping through; sometimes a gentle slither
other times I know not how the bitch hangs together
Then the wind turns, coming
from the other direction
like today; and closes the gap
wood sitting on pressing on wood
and I hear the train the traffic in the east
and the punk with his big block V8
He likes to floor that whore
have her singing basso profundo
he thinks it's a growling...
nails have parted company with wood
and the fourbytwo is swinging in the breeze
the wind slipping through; sometimes a gentle slither
other times I know not how the bitch hangs together
Then the wind turns, coming
from the other direction
like today; and closes the gap
wood sitting on pressing on wood
and I hear the train the traffic in the east
and the punk with his big block V8
He likes to floor that whore
have her singing basso profundo
he thinks it's a growling...
650 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Jan 2016 8:37pm
8th Jan 2016 8:37pm
Vista (no peephole)
Slices of other people's lives
the lives of others [good film]
thinly sliced prosciutto or great slabs
straight from the killing room
Dripping sadness, sorrow
anger or gentleness
great gentleness
night cream for my mind [sleep on it]
that I can't or don't want to
Wash away my deep... angst
there's more where that came from
slices slabs, slabs of angst
and emollient, always emollient
for the soul.
the lives of others [good film]
thinly sliced prosciutto or great slabs
straight from the killing room
Dripping sadness, sorrow
anger or gentleness
great gentleness
night cream for my mind [sleep on it]
that I can't or don't want to
Wash away my deep... angst
there's more where that came from
slices slabs, slabs of angst
and emollient, always emollient
for the soul.
574 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by AnnaKissedMe
