Submissions by DearPoetry
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
My veins drip poetry and my brain is racked with havoc from words I have yet to say.
LOVE POEM
Published
15th May 2012 4:28pm
15th May 2012 4:28pm
Tarot
"I'll tell you your future,
for a price." The trees whispered,
hot like cinnamon, their branches
reaching like skeleton fingers to grab me.
But, my thick dragon scale skin
would not budge. I knew my future—
and no amount of spreads or
the many creases in my palms
could tell me what I already knew—
"Silly lovers—My future's filled with fools."
for a price." The trees whispered,
hot like cinnamon, their branches
reaching like skeleton fingers to grab me.
But, my thick dragon scale skin
would not budge. I knew my future—
and no amount of spreads or
the many creases in my palms
could tell me what I already knew—
"Silly lovers—My future's filled with fools."
839 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th May 2012 4:14am
11th May 2012 4:14am
Sometimes I wish I knew the girls I write about.
Believing God speaks to her in riddles,
She feels most alive
when hanging out of windows.
A fearless free faller
with an adventurers heart,
and innocent New York eyes.
Stubborn, beautiful,
and impossible to snuff out-
Forgive her, sweet father,
for she has sinned.
It's been three long years
since her last confession.
This oracle spends her nights
on dance floors,...
She feels most alive
when hanging out of windows.
A fearless free faller
with an adventurers heart,
and innocent New York eyes.
Stubborn, beautiful,
and impossible to snuff out-
Forgive her, sweet father,
for she has sinned.
It's been three long years
since her last confession.
This oracle spends her nights
on dance floors,...
811 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
11th May 2012 4:09am
11th May 2012 4:09am
At night,
black birds rest on my eyelids.
I am drowning in their feathers.
My dreams are old movies,
monochromatic fears
( laid out in silent film. )
I asked you to lie to me,
to this supernova skin—
to kiss cookie crumb freckles
along my braille throat
as I smothered you
in disheveled heartstrings.
( It did not matter your crow eyes frightened me—)
Speaking to me in God's tongue
of watercolor skies
and mid-morning realities.
As we live in a wonderland
of giggling hyenas &
3am coffee.
I am drowning in their feathers.
My dreams are old movies,
monochromatic fears
( laid out in silent film. )
I asked you to lie to me,
to this supernova skin—
to kiss cookie crumb freckles
along my braille throat
as I smothered you
in disheveled heartstrings.
( It did not matter your crow eyes frightened me—)
Speaking to me in God's tongue
of watercolor skies
and mid-morning realities.
As we live in a wonderland
of giggling hyenas &
3am coffee.
708 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
10th May 2012 6:38am
10th May 2012 6:38am
SLAM
At a young age,
I had to learn to dodge stones,
grow angry scales
along innocent freckled skin,
and open my eyes to a world not quite ready
to hear this tigresses voice.
Speaking in tongues to those paid to listen-
of fairytale wars, battle scars,
and the many linoleum squares I counted
day in and day out, I became mute.
Escaping through rabbit holes and back alleys
into a world of ink and worthy paper cuts.
[ I wear these
paper cuts
like a fucking
fashion statement! ]
And this goes out...
I had to learn to dodge stones,
grow angry scales
along innocent freckled skin,
and open my eyes to a world not quite ready
to hear this tigresses voice.
Speaking in tongues to those paid to listen-
of fairytale wars, battle scars,
and the many linoleum squares I counted
day in and day out, I became mute.
Escaping through rabbit holes and back alleys
into a world of ink and worthy paper cuts.
[ I wear these
paper cuts
like a fucking
fashion statement! ]
And this goes out...
663 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th May 2012 6:27pm
7th May 2012 6:27pm
Like a Virus
My veins d
r
i
p
poetry.
My is with
brain racked havoc-
from all the words I have yet to say.
Like scrap paper in an o v e r f l o w i n g waste basket,
I choke
on the verses
lodged
in the back
of my throat.
The throat my ink stained fingers beg to purge.
r
i
p
poetry.
My is with
brain racked havoc-
from all the words I have yet to say.
Like scrap paper in an o v e r f l o w i n g waste basket,
I choke
on the verses
lodged
in the back
of my throat.
The throat my ink stained fingers beg to purge.
647 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
7th May 2012 6:25pm
7th May 2012 6:25pm
Pretty as a picture on your myspace page.
Lift up your shirt, baby.
Raise your temperature
and trail those pretty
fingers down contours
at their finest, between
the stalls of that dirty
gas station bathroom.
Raise your temperature
and trail those pretty
fingers down contours
at their finest, between
the stalls of that dirty
gas station bathroom.
554 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th May 2012 4:53am
7th May 2012 4:53am
Stale
People think I have a filthy mouth.
(as I say fuck a few too many times
when I'm with you.)
But, this wild, untamed tongue
silences for no one.
I've tasted soap, and sex,
and monsters.
It's all the same damn flavor.
(as I say fuck a few too many times
when I'm with you.)
But, this wild, untamed tongue
silences for no one.
I've tasted soap, and sex,
and monsters.
It's all the same damn flavor.
587 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
6th May 2012 8:15pm
6th May 2012 8:15pm
Poets should never make ghost children.
I whisper cheap metaphors
into your needy ears until, like
funeral flowers, they rest upon
the atlas of your mind. You
with your napkin love letters
and cloudy storm eyes
are the only one to ever
make my scaled spine quiver.
But, my veins ache
from consuming to much ink.
I am gagging on black blood
as it spills from your fingertips
to rest upon my lips.
You asked me once if I could read
the words carved into my limbs
like prophecies of you and I—
we were written in the universe
of freckles...
into your needy ears until, like
funeral flowers, they rest upon
the atlas of your mind. You
with your napkin love letters
and cloudy storm eyes
are the only one to ever
make my scaled spine quiver.
But, my veins ache
from consuming to much ink.
I am gagging on black blood
as it spills from your fingertips
to rest upon my lips.
You asked me once if I could read
the words carved into my limbs
like prophecies of you and I—
we were written in the universe
of freckles...
542 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th May 2012 8:12pm
6th May 2012 8:12pm
Cerbereus
the Gods abandoned you
the day you tore into poetic flesh.
slithering serpent, cold blooded-
blue blood society reject.
you left awkward love bites
along the edges of these ribs.
marked for today,
yesterday is mocking you-
6 trillion miles away.
i spend my forevers counting
your heartbeats with each
intake of breath as
somewhere, far off
Hades has you by the collar,
a hungry dog
standing alone in a bone-yard.
strange, how even still
with all your self built
p h i l o s o p h i e s
you became one with the earth,...
the day you tore into poetic flesh.
slithering serpent, cold blooded-
blue blood society reject.
you left awkward love bites
along the edges of these ribs.
marked for today,
yesterday is mocking you-
6 trillion miles away.
i spend my forevers counting
your heartbeats with each
intake of breath as
somewhere, far off
Hades has you by the collar,
a hungry dog
standing alone in a bone-yard.
strange, how even still
with all your self built
p h i l o s o p h i e s
you became one with the earth,...
510 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
5th May 2012 10:12pm
5th May 2012 10:12pm
Lightyears at Sea
His whispered goodbyes caught fire
in the whites of her eyes as wild dogs
and empty oceans devoured him.
Standing still for years, she with
a waiting heart and waiting fingers
gave birth to ghosts with feathers.
Haunting in his sleep, swinging like
sharp jewelry and pendulums
carving cryptic messages upon his floor-
'You, with your tattooed baptism skin
and slithering tongue of sweet poison
left her aching ashes to mix with gunpowder.'
in the whites of her eyes as wild dogs
and empty oceans devoured him.
Standing still for years, she with
a waiting heart and waiting fingers
gave birth to ghosts with feathers.
Haunting in his sleep, swinging like
sharp jewelry and pendulums
carving cryptic messages upon his floor-
'You, with your tattooed baptism skin
and slithering tongue of sweet poison
left her aching ashes to mix with gunpowder.'
535 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
5th May 2012 10:10pm
5th May 2012 10:10pm
Buterflies in the attic
Our cigarette desire
has me swallowing my own teeth.
I once found you hanging
in my attic, limp.
I force fed old sins
into your lungs,
smothering you in
stray kisses & love
bites. Your vicious,
howling ghost haunted
me for years, warping my days.
My steel heart rusting,
with your devilish whispers
weighing down my fingertips.
has me swallowing my own teeth.
I once found you hanging
in my attic, limp.
I force fed old sins
into your lungs,
smothering you in
stray kisses & love
bites. Your vicious,
howling ghost haunted
me for years, warping my days.
My steel heart rusting,
with your devilish whispers
weighing down my fingertips.
627 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
5th May 2012 1:50am
5th May 2012 1:50am
Witch Trial
I believe I was a ginger headed poet in a past life,
who wrote love through magik spells—
burning candle wax, whispering incantations
under a full moon and painting pale,
naked flesh with dirt and ash.
Dancing with ghostly ravens through flames,
to the thumpthumpthump of my storm heart,
as it became one with the earth.
I roared my passions and my glory
to the heavens above, laughing
like a crazy eyed crone for the sake
of those who feared me.
My witches tongue, hissing, 'Come hither!'
as heat licked my shoulders like an old lover,
come...
who wrote love through magik spells—
burning candle wax, whispering incantations
under a full moon and painting pale,
naked flesh with dirt and ash.
Dancing with ghostly ravens through flames,
to the thumpthumpthump of my storm heart,
as it became one with the earth.
I roared my passions and my glory
to the heavens above, laughing
like a crazy eyed crone for the sake
of those who feared me.
My witches tongue, hissing, 'Come hither!'
as heat licked my shoulders like an old lover,
come...
592 reads
0 Comments
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