Submissions by Betty
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
“Only time can heal what reason cannot”— Seneca
ANGER POEM
Published
7th Jun 2012 4:28am
7th Jun 2012 4:28am
Keep the heart, return the clit
You came back for me
just as I was moving
on with meaningless
sex, and learning
how to drink
like an old broken bitch
with nothing left to feel
and you walked right the fuck
up to me with your bright shining
ideals, and gave me the
lets-be-friends-handshake
with the dangerous gleam
in your eyes
that reminded me
I'll never
get
over
you.
And that you never fucking loved me
Fine.
Just, fine. Whatever.
I wasted my tears on you,
and I...
just as I was moving
on with meaningless
sex, and learning
how to drink
like an old broken bitch
with nothing left to feel
and you walked right the fuck
up to me with your bright shining
ideals, and gave me the
lets-be-friends-handshake
with the dangerous gleam
in your eyes
that reminded me
I'll never
get
over
you.
And that you never fucking loved me
Fine.
Just, fine. Whatever.
I wasted my tears on you,
and I...
1069 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
7th Jun 2012 3:59am
7th Jun 2012 3:59am
in absentia (audio courtesy Jestalessa)
You told me my poetry
made you want to fuck me.
I was so lost
I thought that
was romantic.
Or, at least hot enough to
let you peek under my skirt.
Who wants to do
the awkward
seduction thing
when we can just
(fuck)
get where
we want,
when we want,
with who we want,
right now.
(Right. Now.)
Plus, there’s no risk of those stupid dating
faux pas, like bad breath or spinach in the teeth.
Why bother with...
made you want to fuck me.
I was so lost
I thought that
was romantic.
Or, at least hot enough to
let you peek under my skirt.
Who wants to do
the awkward
seduction thing
when we can just
(fuck)
get where
we want,
when we want,
with who we want,
right now.
(Right. Now.)
Plus, there’s no risk of those stupid dating
faux pas, like bad breath or spinach in the teeth.
Why bother with...
2347 reads
20 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
6th Jun 2012 4:05am
6th Jun 2012 4:05am
The temporary collapse of Fortitude
I need to use you tonight
in the worst possible way.
Use you with a frantic longing,
so intense I can barely
tug my panties,
and turn my head,
to the side
before you breathe relief in me
through an act of
physical charity.
And, I'm desperate to determine
if your shoulders,
which you know
fascinate me,
are strong enough
to hold up my weight,
should I rest my thighs on them,
just for a while, darling.
just for a while...
And once I've renamed you,
(oh god,)
you can let me down,...
in the worst possible way.
Use you with a frantic longing,
so intense I can barely
tug my panties,
and turn my head,
to the side
before you breathe relief in me
through an act of
physical charity.
And, I'm desperate to determine
if your shoulders,
which you know
fascinate me,
are strong enough
to hold up my weight,
should I rest my thighs on them,
just for a while, darling.
just for a while...
And once I've renamed you,
(oh god,)
you can let me down,...
1305 reads
8 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
5th Jun 2012 4:02am
5th Jun 2012 4:02am
Click now to upload downgrade
It’s like trying to jack-off a Ken doll,
life that is, since you
cast me off like a
used condom;
limp,
filled with you,
and useless for
any other purpose.
No matter how I stroke it,
murmur to it,
rub my cheek against it,
cat-like, and coquettish,
it’s just a creepy plastic
impression of the real
thing, and it feels too
small, too harsh, too fake
to fill me the way I want to
be filled.
I’m now the cliche I’ve
mocked my entire life.
See, when I was a little girl ...
life that is, since you
cast me off like a
used condom;
limp,
filled with you,
and useless for
any other purpose.
No matter how I stroke it,
murmur to it,
rub my cheek against it,
cat-like, and coquettish,
it’s just a creepy plastic
impression of the real
thing, and it feels too
small, too harsh, too fake
to fill me the way I want to
be filled.
I’m now the cliche I’ve
mocked my entire life.
See, when I was a little girl ...
1279 reads
12 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
4th Jun 2012 4:11pm
4th Jun 2012 4:11pm
Responsibility repudiation: The towel made me f**k you
It was sweet, then it was hot
and in my defense I didn't mean to
rip off your pants.
It was just that the way you shifted,
not quite making eye contact...
It's just that I found that my panties were
no longer wearable, and I
accidentally let myself
slip
on
you.
Just a little.
It was like this:
I just wanted to finish walking off
the summer storm, which traced the
length of my inner thigh like a memory,
and made me a little weak.
Just a little.
Just enough,
to realize...
and in my defense I didn't mean to
rip off your pants.
It was just that the way you shifted,
not quite making eye contact...
It's just that I found that my panties were
no longer wearable, and I
accidentally let myself
slip
on
you.
Just a little.
It was like this:
I just wanted to finish walking off
the summer storm, which traced the
length of my inner thigh like a memory,
and made me a little weak.
Just a little.
Just enough,
to realize...
1467 reads
10 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
29th May 2012 4:27am
29th May 2012 4:27am
Dear Hunter S. Thompson: Suck one.
The smug bastard who
said, "You can't miss what
you never had" can suck
a hairy dick.
Because I never
had a morning
in which I rolled over
and scooted closer to you,
still wearing your red t-shirt
and the scraps of the
cute panties you ripped off
with your teeth the night before.
When I pretended to still be asleep,
under sheets that smelled like
daytime, and sex, and dryer sheets,
I didn’t get to sassily rub
my ass against your morning wood.
...
said, "You can't miss what
you never had" can suck
a hairy dick.
Because I never
had a morning
in which I rolled over
and scooted closer to you,
still wearing your red t-shirt
and the scraps of the
cute panties you ripped off
with your teeth the night before.
When I pretended to still be asleep,
under sheets that smelled like
daytime, and sex, and dryer sheets,
I didn’t get to sassily rub
my ass against your morning wood.
...
1318 reads
6 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
28th May 2012 3:01pm
28th May 2012 3:01pm
Sleep practicum
You promised once,
to teach me how to sleep,
that deep stuff where
dreams are made.
I told you it’s impossible,
because I dream awake,
and you are proof.
You sent me the
course material in advance.
The syllabus was
rigorous,
the final
seemed to include
fucking like wild dogs
after you washed my
body with lust, and
then encouraged me to
repeat the process in
a practical exam.
I admit
it sounds like a ...
to teach me how to sleep,
that deep stuff where
dreams are made.
I told you it’s impossible,
because I dream awake,
and you are proof.
You sent me the
course material in advance.
The syllabus was
rigorous,
the final
seemed to include
fucking like wild dogs
after you washed my
body with lust, and
then encouraged me to
repeat the process in
a practical exam.
I admit
it sounds like a ...
1044 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
28th May 2012 3:10am
28th May 2012 3:10am
desiccate
your cool lips
like brutal rain
at the base of my spine
makes my knees melt,
and turns the rain
to steam
steam which
covers the sleek
curve of my ass
like a fine mist
shrouds an
innocent
hilltop
beneath that
vaporous veil,
I arch back and
breathlessly cry
(yes)
(no)
mercy
to be answered
by only
a recalcitrant sun ...
like brutal rain
at the base of my spine
makes my knees melt,
and turns the rain
to steam
steam which
covers the sleek
curve of my ass
like a fine mist
shrouds an
innocent
hilltop
beneath that
vaporous veil,
I arch back and
breathlessly cry
(yes)
(no)
mercy
to be answered
by only
a recalcitrant sun ...
918 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th May 2012 5:18am
24th May 2012 5:18am
f**king turnips
Thinking about the sun
made me think about you.
Which is sort of silly to say
because everything,
except maybe turnips
makes me think about you,
and that's only because I never
asked if you hate turnips...
and now...
(fuck)
(just fuck)
Now, even turnips make my eyes fade out,
and my hand shake
while my tongue
moistens my lips
in subliminal
self
emulation.
(This is why I need to fuck
as soon as you walk in the room.)
This is why I'll never remember to
ask...
made me think about you.
Which is sort of silly to say
because everything,
except maybe turnips
makes me think about you,
and that's only because I never
asked if you hate turnips...
and now...
(fuck)
(just fuck)
Now, even turnips make my eyes fade out,
and my hand shake
while my tongue
moistens my lips
in subliminal
self
emulation.
(This is why I need to fuck
as soon as you walk in the room.)
This is why I'll never remember to
ask...
1027 reads
10 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th May 2012 4:38am
24th May 2012 4:38am
Dear Clark, catch
I saved that image.
I meant to let it go as quickly
as it stabbed me in the fucking heart,
but instead I wrapped my hand around
the hook and pushed the barb in deeper,
eating the idiocy with bare hands and raw eyes.
I saved the image.
The one that made me listen to breakup songs —
where you were Superman and I couldn't
make eye contact
without
falling
(in... .)
I mean, without...
I meant to let it go as quickly
as it stabbed me in the fucking heart,
but instead I wrapped my hand around
the hook and pushed the barb in deeper,
eating the idiocy with bare hands and raw eyes.
I saved the image.
The one that made me listen to breakup songs —
where you were Superman and I couldn't
make eye contact
without
falling
(in... .)
I mean, without...
851 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
19th May 2012 5:11am
19th May 2012 5:11am
Flawed theory of forms (that philosophy lesson you slept through in school)
Platonic realism suggests
that what may be
(doesn’t really exist)
save as a reflection of the
perfect form.
I fear I’m on the wrong
side of realism, love,
because you’re so
damn beautiful
(in both realms)
that it’s hard to make
eye contact.
When you do gaze upon me,
I’m certain that I’m on the
wrong side, because
the true form could
never compete
with the image you
let shiver across
my sun-kissed shoulders
You make me feel like
I’m wearing a ...
that what may be
(doesn’t really exist)
save as a reflection of the
perfect form.
I fear I’m on the wrong
side of realism, love,
because you’re so
damn beautiful
(in both realms)
that it’s hard to make
eye contact.
When you do gaze upon me,
I’m certain that I’m on the
wrong side, because
the true form could
never compete
with the image you
let shiver across
my sun-kissed shoulders
You make me feel like
I’m wearing a ...
1028 reads
6 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th May 2012 6:08am
18th May 2012 6:08am
Bad black-and-white films with happy endings
I want to have fun with you,
like the cheery assholes in chick flicks.
And, I have bad-movie moments to spare
behind the cinema of my eyelids.
Let’s try out…
You. Me. Shower curtain. Baby oil. Trampoline.
When we finally catch each other
(after much cussing, and an
oddly-shaped sunburn on your back)
I want to be laughing against your lips
while you examine me for broken bones,
until I forget how to laugh.
Let’s try out…
That stupid beach-movie
where we’re frolicking like kids in the...
like the cheery assholes in chick flicks.
And, I have bad-movie moments to spare
behind the cinema of my eyelids.
Let’s try out…
You. Me. Shower curtain. Baby oil. Trampoline.
When we finally catch each other
(after much cussing, and an
oddly-shaped sunburn on your back)
I want to be laughing against your lips
while you examine me for broken bones,
until I forget how to laugh.
Let’s try out…
That stupid beach-movie
where we’re frolicking like kids in the...
1207 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Betty
