Submissions by Baldwin
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
10th Sep 2023 3:15pm
10th Sep 2023 3:15pm
Coy Girls
Coy girls
not worldly innocents
they know their power
not worldly innocents
they know their power
#sex
141 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
9th Sep 2023 5:11pm
9th Sep 2023 5:11pm
Pivot Point
Creation’s pivot point
the earth
before Copernicus
the earth
before Copernicus
#haiku
94 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
9th Sep 2023 5:00pm
9th Sep 2023 5:00pm
frogs
The ocean
lies unknown to frogs
salt water’s not their home.
lies unknown to frogs
salt water’s not their home.
#haiku
86 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Sep 2023 10:56pm
8th Sep 2023 10:56pm
Some "Haikus" for Mo
If, as Mo opines, the following piece by Patricia Donegan is a Haiku
"spring wind -
I too
am dust “ ,
then so are these:
Cat asleep
I, too,
am purring.
Squirrel’s food
in it my hunger
finds no satisfaction
stacks of unread books
within their presence
I stand accused
kitchen sink
breeding ground
for roaches
full moon
your face of bone ...
"spring wind -
I too
am dust “ ,
then so are these:
Cat asleep
I, too,
am purring.
Squirrel’s food
in it my hunger
finds no satisfaction
stacks of unread books
within their presence
I stand accused
kitchen sink
breeding ground
for roaches
full moon
your face of bone ...
#haiku
112 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Sep 2023 9:39pm
6th Sep 2023 9:39pm
I have now walked ...
I have now walked amid
the redding brier, the crimson rose,
the apple golden haze,
the winding warm bricked cottage close,
the haunting strains divine of dale rich harmonies
from shepherds’ choirs,
the cart tracked furrowed, rail-lined rolling hills
and vales of green swathed Wessex land;
and ever since
my soul has never been the same.
the redding brier, the crimson rose,
the apple golden haze,
the winding warm bricked cottage close,
the haunting strains divine of dale rich harmonies
from shepherds’ choirs,
the cart tracked furrowed, rail-lined rolling hills
and vales of green swathed Wessex land;
and ever since
my soul has never been the same.
#countryside
141 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
4th Sep 2023 2:24pm
4th Sep 2023 2:24pm
I've walked out far into the night
I’ve walked out far into the night,
foot-marked its sad beginnings and its ends.
I’ve measured-stepped myself within
its deepest deprivations of starlight and all the circling moon’s cold whisperings
upon the lawns, the fences, and the heaths
that lined my ambled way.
I’ve stood upon its shadings of
the cobblestones along my street,
and braved its scoldings in
its chilling bursts of wind,
its sudden angry blusters that
it sends through narrow alleyways
and lays upon the dark-leaved trees.
I’ve tasted its concealings...
foot-marked its sad beginnings and its ends.
I’ve measured-stepped myself within
its deepest deprivations of starlight and all the circling moon’s cold whisperings
upon the lawns, the fences, and the heaths
that lined my ambled way.
I’ve stood upon its shadings of
the cobblestones along my street,
and braved its scoldings in
its chilling bursts of wind,
its sudden angry blusters that
it sends through narrow alleyways
and lays upon the dark-leaved trees.
I’ve tasted its concealings...
#SelfDiscovery
142 reads
12 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
6th Aug 2023 3:07pm
6th Aug 2023 3:07pm
Augusts Now
It is August now
I sit at my dry desk
with a dry manuscript in my dry hand
wondering
if my words will have a life, a voice, in months to come.
Will they be read?
Or are they only good instead
for kindling?
I sit at my dry desk
with a dry manuscript in my dry hand
wondering
if my words will have a life, a voice, in months to come.
Will they be read?
Or are they only good instead
for kindling?
141 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Jul 2023 8:49pm
18th Jul 2023 8:49pm
Light
The mist this morn
is full of silvered sun.
The sight of it calls up
a memory
of how I wept when I was young
and torn in two by love
at being overcome
by all the light
that shone around her form
and face.
as she waved her last goodbye
to me,
beginning then
another of
the many body shudder losses fate
would gather from below, above,
into my life.
is full of silvered sun.
The sight of it calls up
a memory
of how I wept when I was young
and torn in two by love
at being overcome
by all the light
that shone around her form
and face.
as she waved her last goodbye
to me,
beginning then
another of
the many body shudder losses fate
would gather from below, above,
into my life.
#rejection
156 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
3rd Jul 2023 9:18pm
3rd Jul 2023 9:18pm
Now Should One Praise Believers of the Past?
Now should one praise
believers of the past,
believers so with whom
one is obsessed?
To answer this
must we not ask:
Was it not they
who flayed Hypatia of all her flesh
and burned the knowledge held
within the old Serapeum,
encouraged and engaged in genocide
and rape and pillaging in Deus Vult crusades,
and carried out the European witchcraft craze
within the fierce religious war of 30 years,
the Massacre at Béziers
and slaughtering of Catharites,
the sack of Magdeburg,
...
believers of the past,
believers so with whom
one is obsessed?
To answer this
must we not ask:
Was it not they
who flayed Hypatia of all her flesh
and burned the knowledge held
within the old Serapeum,
encouraged and engaged in genocide
and rape and pillaging in Deus Vult crusades,
and carried out the European witchcraft craze
within the fierce religious war of 30 years,
the Massacre at Béziers
and slaughtering of Catharites,
the sack of Magdeburg,
...
#oppression
141 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Jun 2023 1:24pm
29th Jun 2023 1:24pm
Elaine from Astolat
The river glides the flowered bier
from Bernard's songless keep
to Arthur's sorrowed pier:
Elaine is now adrift
before the bank-edged willow boughs,
the gleaners in the barley field
with gleaming scythes
and sweating brows,
the bailiff roving in the Autumn lane,
the dead leaves in the winding path,
the white mist on the wold,
the mere.
Her pale hand grasps
a letter and a lily stem
while candles at her head and feet
weep light reflectively.
She's come in endless, icy sleep
on scarlet...
from Bernard's songless keep
to Arthur's sorrowed pier:
Elaine is now adrift
before the bank-edged willow boughs,
the gleaners in the barley field
with gleaming scythes
and sweating brows,
the bailiff roving in the Autumn lane,
the dead leaves in the winding path,
the white mist on the wold,
the mere.
Her pale hand grasps
a letter and a lily stem
while candles at her head and feet
weep light reflectively.
She's come in endless, icy sleep
on scarlet...
#sadness
116 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Jun 2023 12:03pm
13th Jun 2023 12:03pm
On Rumi’s Tabriz 15
I have seen your face
and so, save me,
I cannot help but swear,
that all that is around me now,
inside the gardens of the earth,
in the byways far and near,
in the sea
and in the swirling air,
is emptied of the grace that I once thought
it had,
knows not its purpose or its place
within the world
apart from you.
And I,
breath stilled and dazed,
watch them bow the knee
and vow themselves your slave.
and so, save me,
I cannot help but swear,
that all that is around me now,
inside the gardens of the earth,
in the byways far and near,
in the sea
and in the swirling air,
is emptied of the grace that I once thought
it had,
knows not its purpose or its place
within the world
apart from you.
And I,
breath stilled and dazed,
watch them bow the knee
and vow themselves your slave.
#beauty
150 reads
0 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
11th Jun 2023 8:55pm
11th Jun 2023 8:55pm
Another Lie
He says that when I’m mused
to set versed words upon a page
it is because
I’m fueled and raged
by jealousy
of his self-vaunted literary aptitude
that he professes is’
displayed within
the way he writes
and that I’m moved
when I peruse his posted poetry
to try my best
(though always sans success, he states)
to imitate
the things that he indites.
Now while it’s true
that on a time or two, I have derived
the **subjects** of my texts
from those of his,
it never is the case ...
to set versed words upon a page
it is because
I’m fueled and raged
by jealousy
of his self-vaunted literary aptitude
that he professes is’
displayed within
the way he writes
and that I’m moved
when I peruse his posted poetry
to try my best
(though always sans success, he states)
to imitate
the things that he indites.
Now while it’s true
that on a time or two, I have derived
the **subjects** of my texts
from those of his,
it never is the case ...
#lies
152 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Baldwin
