Submissions by Dulcea
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
~esoteric microcosm of inspired vibrations~
DARK POEM
Published
11th Sep 2017 00:25am
11th Sep 2017 00:25am
Remnants of You
A serenade
for the remains
of a love
so tragically
lost.
Misdeeds aligning.
Stars
so tragically
crossed.
Yet here you are.
From me,
you'll never be
far.
I can't let go.
I have to hold
and cherish
even remnants
of you.
A token of my heart, true.
Your blood,
as a magnet,
is bonding you to
this osseous
cavernous
talismanic tribute.
Your segmented spine
has been combined
with wood and twine; ...
for the remains
of a love
so tragically
lost.
Misdeeds aligning.
Stars
so tragically
crossed.
Yet here you are.
From me,
you'll never be
far.
I can't let go.
I have to hold
and cherish
even remnants
of you.
A token of my heart, true.
Your blood,
as a magnet,
is bonding you to
this osseous
cavernous
talismanic tribute.
Your segmented spine
has been combined
with wood and twine; ...
655 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
9th Sep 2017 5:42pm
9th Sep 2017 5:42pm
An Afternoon With the Jackson Greys
Soft winds whip around the sleeping trees. The dense clouds drifting behind the rough obelisk, forming a Confederate monument, were suffused with the same greyness as the stone they framed.
The slight scent of manure tinged the fresh air - but it didn’t really bother me. New life grew where new death lies.The skillfully-made wooden bench I’m sitting is still wet from the night’s rain. Assume what meaning you’d like, but it’s peaceful around the dead.
I think I catch a flash of lightning in my peripheral and immediately dismiss thoughts about the consequences.A sliver...
The slight scent of manure tinged the fresh air - but it didn’t really bother me. New life grew where new death lies.The skillfully-made wooden bench I’m sitting is still wet from the night’s rain. Assume what meaning you’d like, but it’s peaceful around the dead.
I think I catch a flash of lightning in my peripheral and immediately dismiss thoughts about the consequences.A sliver...
510 reads
1 Comment
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Sep 2017 5:39pm
9th Sep 2017 5:39pm
Like Freedom
It feels like freedom.
Wild winds whistle in my ear, and I sniff deep the many perfumes of passing Earth: grass, burn piles, foul forgotten carcasses, charcoal grills, honeysuckles, and crisp post-rain air.
My life is in my lover’s hands; My hands are on his waist. One wrong move would shatter my bones and grate my flesh like fine parmesan….
But it feels like freedom.
Wild winds whistle in my ear, and I sniff deep the many perfumes of passing Earth: grass, burn piles, foul forgotten carcasses, charcoal grills, honeysuckles, and crisp post-rain air.
My life is in my lover’s hands; My hands are on his waist. One wrong move would shatter my bones and grate my flesh like fine parmesan….
But it feels like freedom.
601 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
21st Aug 2017 1:23am
21st Aug 2017 1:23am
In The Rueful Sideview
What have I done? She desperately questioned herself …
as if a less tragic answer would suddenly emerge
and transform her tale from this dreadful dirge
Please wake up. Please, she pleaded
not only of herself, but of this whelp
who once let out a shocking yelp
She shrieked internally, silent, dethreading her nerves
Moments pass, but not this one
deadly sins cannot be undone
What was I supposed to do?
I couldn’t stop.
He chased the damn dog.
I couldn’t stop.
A...
as if a less tragic answer would suddenly emerge
and transform her tale from this dreadful dirge
Please wake up. Please, she pleaded
not only of herself, but of this whelp
who once let out a shocking yelp
She shrieked internally, silent, dethreading her nerves
Moments pass, but not this one
deadly sins cannot be undone
What was I supposed to do?
I couldn’t stop.
He chased the damn dog.
I couldn’t stop.
A...
551 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Mar 2016 4:23pm
11th Mar 2016 4:23pm
We Draw Lines
Is morality manifest
merely by man?
Invisible, yet indivisible,
living systems all exist.
If it weren’t for the
shadow-casting
omnipotent torch,
I would not be aware
of the swirling current:
Tiny flying insects
swarming about
in synchronized whirls;
delicate,
gyroscopic brilliance.
Past noting their presence,
there’s a moments’ flash,
a fleeting thought
of destroying them whole.
It’s gone with the passing winds,
this passing thought-
the one guilty,
and wafting overhead
all others -
(at...
merely by man?
Invisible, yet indivisible,
living systems all exist.
If it weren’t for the
shadow-casting
omnipotent torch,
I would not be aware
of the swirling current:
Tiny flying insects
swarming about
in synchronized whirls;
delicate,
gyroscopic brilliance.
Past noting their presence,
there’s a moments’ flash,
a fleeting thought
of destroying them whole.
It’s gone with the passing winds,
this passing thought-
the one guilty,
and wafting overhead
all others -
(at...
788 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Dec 2014 3:27am
29th Dec 2014 3:27am
Death Sows A Bright Seed
potential
in every
fiber
the seed of life
ascension
&
germination
pressure builds
I can’t contain
the life within
hatchlings
of cool earth
an unfolding drama
of subterrestrial birth
reaching
worming
grasping
for the
open sky
rooting
steady
deep
the labor
the journey
to breathe
to inspire
the single
desire
of all of those
buried alive
extending my
extending tendrils
I eagerly
make my way ...
in every
fiber
the seed of life
ascension
&
germination
pressure builds
I can’t contain
the life within
hatchlings
of cool earth
an unfolding drama
of subterrestrial birth
reaching
worming
grasping
for the
open sky
rooting
steady
deep
the labor
the journey
to breathe
to inspire
the single
desire
of all of those
buried alive
extending my
extending tendrils
I eagerly
make my way ...
642 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
19th Jul 2014 8:47pm
19th Jul 2014 8:47pm
Music For All Mankind
Very few things have held a significance throughout human history like that of music. Music is interwoven with virtually every aspect of human existence. It extends it’s reach through both the profound and the profane. Music pervades every culture and era of mankind. Though there are innumerable classifications and genres in the wide world of musical sound, two tend to stand out in great contrast: popular music and art music. Although popular music tends to dominate the more common conception of songs and songwriting, it is art music that should be enjoyed, explored and embraced for the...
1031 reads
3 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
22nd May 2014 5:35pm
22nd May 2014 5:35pm
"To Choose To Dream"
Inspired by actual photograph of woman plunging to her death, from a New York City hotel in 1942. Photo by Russel Sorgi. (Can't post without the photo, or it makes no sense.) *
What an awesome scene it was to look upon. The magnificent New York City Skyline was a monument to opportunity and adventure that reached for the sky. The glorious view before her reminded her of why she had made the journey in the first place. From her thirtieth-floor balcony of the Genesee Hotel, Mary could clearly hear her thoughts for the first time in a long time. The breeze seemed louder...
What an awesome scene it was to look upon. The magnificent New York City Skyline was a monument to opportunity and adventure that reached for the sky. The glorious view before her reminded her of why she had made the journey in the first place. From her thirtieth-floor balcony of the Genesee Hotel, Mary could clearly hear her thoughts for the first time in a long time. The breeze seemed louder...
809 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Mar 2014 6:08am
30th Mar 2014 6:08am
"Moonlit Inspiration"©
Drifting clouds pass the moon
as the breath of a muse
made visible to you
by the chill of winter skies.
Illuminated by our common flame
which stays stowed away ‘til day.
Reflections of phantom rays.
The light may offer comfort
but the darkness conjures dreams.
Nothing’s as it seems.
Such things appeal to me.
A pervading thirst
that must tenderly
consume obscurities.
Drink deep, my friend.
Such allures
more compelling & pure
than a sip of sweet ambrosia,
or all the pharaohs’ gold.
Take in the sky …...
as the breath of a muse
made visible to you
by the chill of winter skies.
Illuminated by our common flame
which stays stowed away ‘til day.
Reflections of phantom rays.
The light may offer comfort
but the darkness conjures dreams.
Nothing’s as it seems.
Such things appeal to me.
A pervading thirst
that must tenderly
consume obscurities.
Drink deep, my friend.
Such allures
more compelling & pure
than a sip of sweet ambrosia,
or all the pharaohs’ gold.
Take in the sky …...
747 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
20th Jan 2014 5:35am
20th Jan 2014 5:35am
Inner Current (pt. 2 The Sea)
Diving through the waves.
Flowing.
Personal.
Innate.
Currents of
inner galaxies.
Calm waters may be clear.,
but even the most
deep & serene
may harbor
unfathomable
darkness.
Scenes few
will ever know.
Under encompassing stress,
plunging to great depths.
Surroundings
bearing down.
Forcing focus within.
Sinking.
Sinking.
Adapt
or be crushed.
To swim is a must.
Every breath will get
it's proper value.
In an instant,
behold truth.
Gently carried
through the...
Flowing.
Personal.
Innate.
Currents of
inner galaxies.
Calm waters may be clear.,
but even the most
deep & serene
may harbor
unfathomable
darkness.
Scenes few
will ever know.
Under encompassing stress,
plunging to great depths.
Surroundings
bearing down.
Forcing focus within.
Sinking.
Sinking.
Adapt
or be crushed.
To swim is a must.
Every breath will get
it's proper value.
In an instant,
behold truth.
Gently carried
through the...
723 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Dec 2013 5:24am
21st Dec 2013 5:24am
(untitled)
The path suddenly narrows,
as it is revealed,
so clearly
that unconditional love
is the road
to my personal hell.
Like a fool,
I skipped it merrily,
unaware that my feet
had begun to bleed
&
oblivious to the peril,
I kept on,
ignorantly steadfast.
I can’t tell
the difference
between road rage
and heartbreak
anymore.
How
could such a
straight path
get me
so lost?
as it is revealed,
so clearly
that unconditional love
is the road
to my personal hell.
Like a fool,
I skipped it merrily,
unaware that my feet
had begun to bleed
&
oblivious to the peril,
I kept on,
ignorantly steadfast.
I can’t tell
the difference
between road rage
and heartbreak
anymore.
How
could such a
straight path
get me
so lost?
708 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Nov 2013 5:18pm
21st Nov 2013 5:18pm
Little Black Moth
Of intrinsic peculiarity,
little back moth,
(through triangles)
fluttering softly.
Untethered & free.
Obeying only
instinct & the breeze.
(so transitory)
Wherever I go is home,
even if it's nowhere I know
little back moth,
(through triangles)
fluttering softly.
Untethered & free.
Obeying only
instinct & the breeze.
(so transitory)
Wherever I go is home,
even if it's nowhere I know
718 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Dulcea
