Submissions by Baldwin
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
LOVE POEM
Published
5th Feb 2020 8:52pm
5th Feb 2020 8:52pm
Longing
You are the shape of sleep,
moon sung,
sky voiced,
star graced,
and I a threadbare wanderer,
night lost,
in need of you.
moon sung,
sky voiced,
star graced,
and I a threadbare wanderer,
night lost,
in need of you.
#separation
534 reads
11 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
5th Feb 2020 1:45pm
5th Feb 2020 1:45pm
Your Name
Your name
will not be voiced by me today,
an anniversary of sorts.
I will not let my tongue
evoke its panoply.
Your name
will not be mouthed by me
from dawn
to dusk
and I’ll not let it touch my thoughts,
or fill my dreams,
now husks,
from darkened sun to morning’s rim;
the lust of it, your name,
that sin upon my lips,
caressing me,
all sere this dunning year,
if spoken out,
will do me in.
will not be voiced by me today,
an anniversary of sorts.
I will not let my tongue
evoke its panoply.
Your name
will not be mouthed by me
from dawn
to dusk
and I’ll not let it touch my thoughts,
or fill my dreams,
now husks,
from darkened sun to morning’s rim;
the lust of it, your name,
that sin upon my lips,
caressing me,
all sere this dunning year,
if spoken out,
will do me in.
#lust
463 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
4th Feb 2020 5:14pm
4th Feb 2020 5:14pm
Grey Wing
A grey wing beats and numbs the day
and hollow indecision drapes itself unbidden
all along my limbs,
like bleaking fog seeped over Autumned paths,
a caul that's smothering my breath.
My hours that should be joyed with work
are dulled and trail away before my eyes
like lulled, stooped shouldered men
paced aimless, shuffling,
slow along their way.
No livening's left to me now;
in sway on everything's a chill,
a lowering, a winter's pall.
She is not here.
She's distanced all.
and hollow indecision drapes itself unbidden
all along my limbs,
like bleaking fog seeped over Autumned paths,
a caul that's smothering my breath.
My hours that should be joyed with work
are dulled and trail away before my eyes
like lulled, stooped shouldered men
paced aimless, shuffling,
slow along their way.
No livening's left to me now;
in sway on everything's a chill,
a lowering, a winter's pall.
She is not here.
She's distanced all.
#heartbroken
466 reads
8 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
4th Feb 2020 4:07pm
4th Feb 2020 4:07pm
Quit Telling Me that Heaven Is My Home
You say it is my destiny,
if I show “faith”,
to end up as essentially a ghost
that stays for all eternity
within an otherworldly ghosty place
sans all the flesh
that stands now as
the sign and seat of my identity.
But isn’t this a lie?
For after all, it’s something that
quite fundamentally denies
the import of the proclamation that
the I Am said
when he created in fixed form
the earth
to be man’s dwelling and his home;
that it, and not
some disincarnate realm
beyond the...
if I show “faith”,
to end up as essentially a ghost
that stays for all eternity
within an otherworldly ghosty place
sans all the flesh
that stands now as
the sign and seat of my identity.
But isn’t this a lie?
For after all, it’s something that
quite fundamentally denies
the import of the proclamation that
the I Am said
when he created in fixed form
the earth
to be man’s dwelling and his home;
that it, and not
some disincarnate realm
beyond the...
#spiritual
359 reads
1 Comment
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
3rd Feb 2020 10:31pm
3rd Feb 2020 10:31pm
My Ram
What did you think
when you, when young,
and laid, as young lambs often were
within Jerusalem
upon the Temple's altar, saw
the priests’ sharp knives
directed at your throat
was their intent to do?
To play some ticklish games
upon your wool
and over which they all
eventually could laugh?
Or was it then
to spill your blood,
to slash your life away?
Let’s thank our god
that I was able then to rescue you
from sacrificial death
and raise you up in frolicked
circumstance
to be a...
when you, when young,
and laid, as young lambs often were
within Jerusalem
upon the Temple's altar, saw
the priests’ sharp knives
directed at your throat
was their intent to do?
To play some ticklish games
upon your wool
and over which they all
eventually could laugh?
Or was it then
to spill your blood,
to slash your life away?
Let’s thank our god
that I was able then to rescue you
from sacrificial death
and raise you up in frolicked
circumstance
to be a...
#WritingPoetry
423 reads
5 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
25th Jan 2020 10:05pm
25th Jan 2020 10:05pm
I wonder
I wonder how the quality
of things I write would be assessed
by writers in the know
(those truly educated in the elements
required for lyrical felicity
like Pound and Eliot, and Pope,
with Yeats and Hardy, too)
if I engaged in messing with,
ignoring so,
the places where some articles
were needed by grammatical
and sensical necessity
to go,
and then, as well, with regularity,
inverted words to get a rhyme,
or wrenched the syntax of my lines
quite out of joint to score some points
(in my own...
of things I write would be assessed
by writers in the know
(those truly educated in the elements
required for lyrical felicity
like Pound and Eliot, and Pope,
with Yeats and Hardy, too)
if I engaged in messing with,
ignoring so,
the places where some articles
were needed by grammatical
and sensical necessity
to go,
and then, as well, with regularity,
inverted words to get a rhyme,
or wrenched the syntax of my lines
quite out of joint to score some points
(in my own...
#WritingPoetry
471 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Aug 2018 6:31pm
5th Aug 2018 6:31pm
Joseph's claims
#redemption
512 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
26th Jul 2018 4:01pm
26th Jul 2018 4:01pm
Regret
I send you all the poems
that only some few days ago
you said I won you with –
an eager time for both of us,
a shining time,
a time before I,
senseless to my senselessness
made you think my caring centered
only on myself.
I send them
hoping they will mold you
like a small cry on your heart
into a softer memory of me.
that only some few days ago
you said I won you with –
an eager time for both of us,
a shining time,
a time before I,
senseless to my senselessness
made you think my caring centered
only on myself.
I send them
hoping they will mold you
like a small cry on your heart
into a softer memory of me.
#emptiness
587 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
6th Jul 2018 4:49pm
6th Jul 2018 4:49pm
Restraint
She supply stood , arch'd back against the wall
with challenge and defiance and hard longing in her eyes,
and hair all darkly storming down her face, her neck,
a swirling stream all silking invitation,
one shoulder bare and glistening, a beacon to his gaze.
Her breath caught up inside a gasp, a sigh surprised,
to find him suddenly so near, to see him
half in shadow half in light,
adopting feral stance, himself amazed at how
the sight and scent of her had loosed his mind
had made him swallow hard
to batter down, to stand against ...
with challenge and defiance and hard longing in her eyes,
and hair all darkly storming down her face, her neck,
a swirling stream all silking invitation,
one shoulder bare and glistening, a beacon to his gaze.
Her breath caught up inside a gasp, a sigh surprised,
to find him suddenly so near, to see him
half in shadow half in light,
adopting feral stance, himself amazed at how
the sight and scent of her had loosed his mind
had made him swallow hard
to batter down, to stand against ...
#lust
653 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
5th Jul 2018 1:39pm
5th Jul 2018 1:39pm
I shall pretend
I shall pretend within this rough abandonment
that we never spoke,
never sent each other photographs,
never spent the evening hours entwined by telephone
sharing all the deeper secrets of our histories,
never saw our crossing path as miracle and mystery,
never mentioned love,
and never stood amazed at how
again and then again
at each unveiling of the stages of our pasts
we came to know that if we met
we’d fit together well
like the proverbed hand and glove,
never felt our hearts rise up
like morning mist to...
that we never spoke,
never sent each other photographs,
never spent the evening hours entwined by telephone
sharing all the deeper secrets of our histories,
never saw our crossing path as miracle and mystery,
never mentioned love,
and never stood amazed at how
again and then again
at each unveiling of the stages of our pasts
we came to know that if we met
we’d fit together well
like the proverbed hand and glove,
never felt our hearts rise up
like morning mist to...
#emptiness
565 reads
12 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Baldwin
