Submissions by Baldwin
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Jul 2020 7:24pm
30th Jul 2020 7:24pm
At First Sight
Is the frequent, cherished claim
that love springs up
upon a look anew
a romance lie?
Oh no, I say.
I had the solid proof
the claim was fully true
when I first looked
into my lover’s flashing eyes.
So swayed was I
by them
and how they had me held
within her gaze,
then gob-stooped, rooted, and amazed,
I kenned how indisputably
that I was finally graced
by angels and by god,
that I was uncontrollably compelled
to praise into the sky
a “thank you, thank you, thank you!...
that love springs up
upon a look anew
a romance lie?
Oh no, I say.
I had the solid proof
the claim was fully true
when I first looked
into my lover’s flashing eyes.
So swayed was I
by them
and how they had me held
within her gaze,
then gob-stooped, rooted, and amazed,
I kenned how indisputably
that I was finally graced
by angels and by god,
that I was uncontrollably compelled
to praise into the sky
a “thank you, thank you, thank you!...
#love
356 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Jul 2020 6:06pm
29th Jul 2020 6:06pm
Aging
I have come into my length of years
where it grows clear
that Life, once the awesome giver of
good and joyous things,
now seems bent, implacably
on taking them away.
where it grows clear
that Life, once the awesome giver of
good and joyous things,
now seems bent, implacably
on taking them away.
#aging
330 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Jul 2020 10:19pm
9th Jul 2020 10:19pm
the power
Why is it that the thought of her,
the sudden and invasive memory
of the avid, awe-filled way
that she, on one enchanted night,
then pressed her face to mine
and asked me if I knew how much
within her heart I was adored,
combines to cause the muscles of my abdomen
to double in upon themselves
and makes me take involuntarily
a deeply tensing breath
as if I’m readying myself against a fighter’s blow?
Why should the mental image of a woman who
once gladdened me for such an unexpected
heated while transpiring over thirty...
the sudden and invasive memory
of the avid, awe-filled way
that she, on one enchanted night,
then pressed her face to mine
and asked me if I knew how much
within her heart I was adored,
combines to cause the muscles of my abdomen
to double in upon themselves
and makes me take involuntarily
a deeply tensing breath
as if I’m readying myself against a fighter’s blow?
Why should the mental image of a woman who
once gladdened me for such an unexpected
heated while transpiring over thirty...
#memories
346 reads
1 Comment
EROTIC POEM
Published
6th Jun 2020 00:08am
6th Jun 2020 00:08am
Sunrise Disturbed
Sunrise disturbed,
I am awake and grumbled out
into the day some hours long
before my time to be astir .
But she, close by,
uncoiled,
a sigh against my skin,
a drowsy sprawl,
her hand in absent reach for mine,
still sleeps.
I turn to take in how
the length and lines of her,
her shoulder's curve above the sheet,
her nape,
at Eos' touch,
within day's dawning scarlet and its sorrel casts,
become melodious,
and ivory bright
and note this trespasser,
this dream depriving early light
is now a...
I am awake and grumbled out
into the day some hours long
before my time to be astir .
But she, close by,
uncoiled,
a sigh against my skin,
a drowsy sprawl,
her hand in absent reach for mine,
still sleeps.
I turn to take in how
the length and lines of her,
her shoulder's curve above the sheet,
her nape,
at Eos' touch,
within day's dawning scarlet and its sorrel casts,
become melodious,
and ivory bright
and note this trespasser,
this dream depriving early light
is now a...
#lust
523 reads
7 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
29th May 2020 9:29pm
29th May 2020 9:29pm
An Emulation of Thomas Wyatt's "And Leave Not Yet"
And wilt thou hold my heart
within thy hands so callously
as if a thing despised?
Say nay, say nay to this cruel enterprise
to save thee from disgrace
when thou art famed,
because of thy poor use of me,
for obloquy. Say nay.
And wilt thou hold my heart
less dear than I, with bright esteem,
hold yours? Less dear than
all the breath that gives thee life,
the breath that I would give to thee
should nature ‘spire to leave
thee gasping, breath deprived?
Say nay. Say nay.
And wilt thou hold my heart ...
within thy hands so callously
as if a thing despised?
Say nay, say nay to this cruel enterprise
to save thee from disgrace
when thou art famed,
because of thy poor use of me,
for obloquy. Say nay.
And wilt thou hold my heart
less dear than I, with bright esteem,
hold yours? Less dear than
all the breath that gives thee life,
the breath that I would give to thee
should nature ‘spire to leave
thee gasping, breath deprived?
Say nay. Say nay.
And wilt thou hold my heart ...
#love
335 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th May 2020 5:49pm
15th May 2020 5:49pm
little bastard
I’ll get this little bugger yet,
this fly,
this buzzing beast dive bombing
my computer screen,
this bastard little insect guy,
now roaming free.
No undertaker for this winging jet
of black, this pest obscene;
no nice becalmed embalming
will be seen.
There’s only flattened death, a splat
inflicted from a swatter
wielded from on high
by me
like a vengeful baseball bat.
I’ll get this little bugger yet.
this fly,
this buzzing beast dive bombing
my computer screen,
this bastard little insect guy,
now roaming free.
No undertaker for this winging jet
of black, this pest obscene;
no nice becalmed embalming
will be seen.
There’s only flattened death, a splat
inflicted from a swatter
wielded from on high
by me
like a vengeful baseball bat.
I’ll get this little bugger yet.
#frustration
340 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
14th May 2020 8:46pm
14th May 2020 8:46pm
Wrinkles
He saw the wrinkles on his hands:
time’s etchings that he swore
weren’t there before his recent yesterday.
And so he put his work aside,
hard wounded was his vanity, his pride
in how, for long years, he had been a man
who guarded well his youth,
unable now and any more
to push away, deny, and bury deep, the thought
that he, unlike his kith and kin,
would never be despoiled
by any of the ravages
that soil and debt the passing years
or know experientially, or have a cause to dread
what St. Paul named the wage of sin, ...
time’s etchings that he swore
weren’t there before his recent yesterday.
And so he put his work aside,
hard wounded was his vanity, his pride
in how, for long years, he had been a man
who guarded well his youth,
unable now and any more
to push away, deny, and bury deep, the thought
that he, unlike his kith and kin,
would never be despoiled
by any of the ravages
that soil and debt the passing years
or know experientially, or have a cause to dread
what St. Paul named the wage of sin, ...
#aging
337 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
14th May 2020 6:55pm
14th May 2020 6:55pm
absence
I know what Edna felt when she described
her sundered heart as something like
a little pool upon a hollow ledge
that’s drying inward from the edge.
For one again, once more,
I did not see your soft approach
towards my door,
to hear your upward footfall on my stair,
or smell the fragrance of your shoulders
and your hair,
and have you nestled in the cradle of my arm.
Another weekend shiftless, poor,
spent and gone, and bare,
without you here.
her sundered heart as something like
a little pool upon a hollow ledge
that’s drying inward from the edge.
For one again, once more,
I did not see your soft approach
towards my door,
to hear your upward footfall on my stair,
or smell the fragrance of your shoulders
and your hair,
and have you nestled in the cradle of my arm.
Another weekend shiftless, poor,
spent and gone, and bare,
without you here.
#lover
311 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th May 2020 6:56pm
12th May 2020 6:56pm
J-Z and his "If"
I wonder why
a man who tells us not to deem the past
as something that contains a wealth of pleasant scenes
will keep referring to events
that played out on a crucial day
in 33 CE
as glorious, love filled,
to be remembered, too
as those that brought and brings
salvation unto men like me and you.
And then there is the way,
despite his bold assertions that to think on "coming times"
as ours, since they, as yet, are not realities,
is foolishness,
he keeps rejoicing in his visions of
just what he claims he’s certain...
a man who tells us not to deem the past
as something that contains a wealth of pleasant scenes
will keep referring to events
that played out on a crucial day
in 33 CE
as glorious, love filled,
to be remembered, too
as those that brought and brings
salvation unto men like me and you.
And then there is the way,
despite his bold assertions that to think on "coming times"
as ours, since they, as yet, are not realities,
is foolishness,
he keeps rejoicing in his visions of
just what he claims he’s certain...
#satirical
412 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
14th Apr 2020 3:30pm
14th Apr 2020 3:30pm
Jealousy
There was a “Once”
when the majestic prince of all the bene elohim,
that is to say, the one who held the office of accuser
of bad men,
was asked by God to tell
what he’d been up to recently.
The Satan then replied,
“Oh, I’ve been spending all my earthy moments
making little bluebell flowers angry
at a bee”.
And when HaShem seemed vexed
with this brief answering
and said how much endeavors to make
flowers sin (supposing that they could)
was like a dog’s harsh barking hour...
when the majestic prince of all the bene elohim,
that is to say, the one who held the office of accuser
of bad men,
was asked by God to tell
what he’d been up to recently.
The Satan then replied,
“Oh, I’ve been spending all my earthy moments
making little bluebell flowers angry
at a bee”.
And when HaShem seemed vexed
with this brief answering
and said how much endeavors to make
flowers sin (supposing that they could)
was like a dog’s harsh barking hour...
#jealousy
348 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
13th Apr 2020 1:07am
13th Apr 2020 1:07am
What I didn't do
I am the angel who was sent by Yahweh down
unto to the earth,
down to the outskirts of Jerusalem,
at break of dawn on Easter day
to free and roll away the tethered stone
set then to block, close up decisively,
the egress and the entryway of Jesu’s
gifted tomb.
Forgive me please, HaShem,
if I make bold to say that I’ll be devil damned,
if what I did so early on that morn
showed Jesus to be You, the God of all,
instead of a just man that you redeemed
from death,
confirming that he was indeed, but only this, ...
unto to the earth,
down to the outskirts of Jerusalem,
at break of dawn on Easter day
to free and roll away the tethered stone
set then to block, close up decisively,
the egress and the entryway of Jesu’s
gifted tomb.
Forgive me please, HaShem,
if I make bold to say that I’ll be devil damned,
if what I did so early on that morn
showed Jesus to be You, the God of all,
instead of a just man that you redeemed
from death,
confirming that he was indeed, but only this, ...
#WritingPoetry
367 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
12th Apr 2020 5:21pm
12th Apr 2020 5:21pm
Jesus' love
O Jesus, Lord!
You are so soft,
like down,
like flakes of falling snow,
so good to me
that I can never,
any longer, frown.
You’ve taught mankind
to plainly see, to know
that, like old Plato
and the Orphics claimed
before you came
to earth,
and like the Gnostics, too,
assert against the orthodox,
I have (I am)
an entombed soul
and its intended berth,
its telic goal,
its home is up aloft,
not here within
this doomed, corrupt
(though blessed as good
by...
You are so soft,
like down,
like flakes of falling snow,
so good to me
that I can never,
any longer, frown.
You’ve taught mankind
to plainly see, to know
that, like old Plato
and the Orphics claimed
before you came
to earth,
and like the Gnostics, too,
assert against the orthodox,
I have (I am)
an entombed soul
and its intended berth,
its telic goal,
its home is up aloft,
not here within
this doomed, corrupt
(though blessed as good
by...
#Christian
399 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Baldwin
