Submissions by Eerie
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
“Creation which cannot express itself becomes madness" ~Anais Nin
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
10th May 2022 4:56am
10th May 2022 4:56am
The Ache of Self Containment
Tuck me into the neat folds
of your skin. Liquid cells gather
minute details of information: they cling
to the hardest parts of me.
Your hands, in the safest places,
gathered at ribs below the pink tinge
of tissue. You let me ramble
in my measure, devoid of any plan.
But...{and this is the rabid conflagration
of devastation}...
...you peer inside these sawdust
eyes; dry films, each border lit
in vile neon: clicking one
empty cartridge after the next—
Yesterday’s Pain
Today’s Anger ...
of your skin. Liquid cells gather
minute details of information: they cling
to the hardest parts of me.
Your hands, in the safest places,
gathered at ribs below the pink tinge
of tissue. You let me ramble
in my measure, devoid of any plan.
But...{and this is the rabid conflagration
of devastation}...
...you peer inside these sawdust
eyes; dry films, each border lit
in vile neon: clicking one
empty cartridge after the next—
Yesterday’s Pain
Today’s Anger ...
#vampires
491 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
30th Apr 2022 3:40pm
30th Apr 2022 3:40pm
A Farewell
I’ve stopped sweeping myself
under this dirty rug.
To lay in debris day after day
is to snuff out every good thing
that I am.
I was holding on to so much
trauma that I covered myself
with prickly fibers to keep others
from coming in.
I walled off the best parts
and truly lost the essence
of my tender, sweet child.
I despaired in ever experiencing
her again, so set about a new course
that felt as though I had stretched
myself into someone else’s skin.
The fit was too tight, choking ...
under this dirty rug.
To lay in debris day after day
is to snuff out every good thing
that I am.
I was holding on to so much
trauma that I covered myself
with prickly fibers to keep others
from coming in.
I walled off the best parts
and truly lost the essence
of my tender, sweet child.
I despaired in ever experiencing
her again, so set about a new course
that felt as though I had stretched
myself into someone else’s skin.
The fit was too tight, choking ...
#NaPoWriMo2022
779 reads
17 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Apr 2022 1:56am
30th Apr 2022 1:56am
The Queen
As a child, I rested bare feet
in shimmery cool waters
of a creek, nestled deep between
rows of ancient trees and prickly brush.
The heavenly scent of wild mint
arose from the murky banks
and wildflowers were carefully
chosen to adorn my hair.
I was the Queen of something
or other, and the fish my courtiers.
At night, under a bright moon
I would wade out to the bottom
of the small waterfall and bathe.
There is something magical
about listening to the babbling
of water over rock, nestled ...
in shimmery cool waters
of a creek, nestled deep between
rows of ancient trees and prickly brush.
The heavenly scent of wild mint
arose from the murky banks
and wildflowers were carefully
chosen to adorn my hair.
I was the Queen of something
or other, and the fish my courtiers.
At night, under a bright moon
I would wade out to the bottom
of the small waterfall and bathe.
There is something magical
about listening to the babbling
of water over rock, nestled ...
#NaPoWriMo2022
480 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Apr 2022 1:20am
29th Apr 2022 1:20am
The Ribbons and Her Darkness
As the sun fades behind
grey clouds of twilight,
tranquil calm settles in,
and the sounds of night
begin to emerge.
Like ribbons of mist
winding their way through
dark shadows, they slip
harmonious fingers around
every beat of my heart.
Have you ever been so enraptured
by something, that you could swear
you feel your soul fusing.
grey clouds of twilight,
tranquil calm settles in,
and the sounds of night
begin to emerge.
Like ribbons of mist
winding their way through
dark shadows, they slip
harmonious fingers around
every beat of my heart.
Have you ever been so enraptured
by something, that you could swear
you feel your soul fusing.
#NaPoWriMo2022
366 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
28th Apr 2022 00:47am
28th Apr 2022 00:47am
When We Cross
Somewhere deep inside, rattling
my bones, making music with bow
across tendon, you smile
in your way, and I can see
deep in your eyes that I was always
meant to be here.
Maybe I never understood
myself: or maybe I never accepted
what I was meant to be.
Maybe fear clutched me a little too tightly.
But I see my stars and how they
always align, despite my stubborn
stance that they do not dance for me.
One day we’ll stand in front
of the great expanse.
Hand in hand we’ll step into ...
my bones, making music with bow
across tendon, you smile
in your way, and I can see
deep in your eyes that I was always
meant to be here.
Maybe I never understood
myself: or maybe I never accepted
what I was meant to be.
Maybe fear clutched me a little too tightly.
But I see my stars and how they
always align, despite my stubborn
stance that they do not dance for me.
One day we’ll stand in front
of the great expanse.
Hand in hand we’ll step into ...
#NaPoWriMo2022
487 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th Apr 2022 5:45pm
27th Apr 2022 5:45pm
Parallel
Into starless night our consciousness
stumbles into netherworlds:
eyes dart about, hands grabbing
hold of whatever touches us.
While others sleep, we work
with guided purpose, changing threads
that anchor mortals to timeless
beings, pulling apart the cosmos.
To walk across the ether, touched
by dark flames changes the ideal
story we have grown up in.
Secrets are not theirs to keep.
stumbles into netherworlds:
eyes dart about, hands grabbing
hold of whatever touches us.
While others sleep, we work
with guided purpose, changing threads
that anchor mortals to timeless
beings, pulling apart the cosmos.
To walk across the ether, touched
by dark flames changes the ideal
story we have grown up in.
Secrets are not theirs to keep.
#NaPoWriMo2022
362 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
26th Apr 2022 2:21am
26th Apr 2022 2:21am
Clean-up in Aisle 7
Heart pounding anxiety—
But no mental chaos.
Chemo didn’t knock on my heart,
it burst in like the KoolAid man
with a “fuck you!”.
Ventricular meltdown, seeing stars,
is this the time I cross into
the next dimension: always living
in the space between here and there.
I’d say it’s exhilarating,
but who really wants to cardiac arrest
in the middle of the supermarket.
How embarrassing.
But no mental chaos.
Chemo didn’t knock on my heart,
it burst in like the KoolAid man
with a “fuck you!”.
Ventricular meltdown, seeing stars,
is this the time I cross into
the next dimension: always living
in the space between here and there.
I’d say it’s exhilarating,
but who really wants to cardiac arrest
in the middle of the supermarket.
How embarrassing.
#NaPoWriMo2022
345 reads
3 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
25th Apr 2022 1:10am
25th Apr 2022 1:10am
Augury
There are many whispers through the trees
about her communing with spirits
of another realm.
She wades into shallow waters,
pockets full of stones and drowns.
Under the surface there lies
an infinite power of capability
lost to the rippling waters of shaky faith.
If she could rise from the depths,
her purpose would be revealed.
The eye would open, and brilliant
light would filter through.
And there…there she would be surrounded
by things she always knew existed.
about her communing with spirits
of another realm.
She wades into shallow waters,
pockets full of stones and drowns.
Under the surface there lies
an infinite power of capability
lost to the rippling waters of shaky faith.
If she could rise from the depths,
her purpose would be revealed.
The eye would open, and brilliant
light would filter through.
And there…there she would be surrounded
by things she always knew existed.
#NaPoWriMo2022
492 reads
10 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
24th Apr 2022 4:24pm
24th Apr 2022 4:24pm
Her Gothic Heart
It’s midnight in a gothic city.
Spires reach for heaven as winged,
stone beasts watch over her sleep.
Perhaps you only see beauty in her
daylight: sun glimmering
in rusty, emerald eyes.
Deep pockets of laughter
billowing across corridors, seizing
you mid-step: your hands
glide across waves of chestnut silk.
Pressing in, you find steps,
curling downward in spirals.
Would you slip into darkness
and touch her fire.
Could you step into her gothic
city, embracing what she is.
Spires reach for heaven as winged,
stone beasts watch over her sleep.
Perhaps you only see beauty in her
daylight: sun glimmering
in rusty, emerald eyes.
Deep pockets of laughter
billowing across corridors, seizing
you mid-step: your hands
glide across waves of chestnut silk.
Pressing in, you find steps,
curling downward in spirals.
Would you slip into darkness
and touch her fire.
Could you step into her gothic
city, embracing what she is.
#NaPoWriMo2022
433 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Apr 2022 2:27am
23rd Apr 2022 2:27am
Finding Space To Breathe
It’s pretty easy to be apathetic at times:
letting everything go so you can
breathe a little.
We’ll call it a balm: soothing
deep troubles that burn our souls.
You can linger for a moment: hollowed
out in the in-between spaces,
but don’t condemn the best parts
of yourself because you try like
hell to cover what you don’t love.
letting everything go so you can
breathe a little.
We’ll call it a balm: soothing
deep troubles that burn our souls.
You can linger for a moment: hollowed
out in the in-between spaces,
but don’t condemn the best parts
of yourself because you try like
hell to cover what you don’t love.
#NaPoWriMo2022
428 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
22nd Apr 2022 2:33am
22nd Apr 2022 2:33am
Morning Rituals
There’s nothing profound
swirling in my brainpan, so I’m just going
to tell you about my morning.
I had a fermented yogurt bowl
with strawberries and walnuts for breakfast.
Pretty standard for me, as breakfasts’ go.
Forty-five minutes of crunches,
planks, core tightening, and weight lifting.
I simultaneously love and hate
that part of my day, though I always
feel stronger afterwards.
Morning chores are standard:
housework is never-ending, so I’ve learned
to find an end spot each day.
I...
swirling in my brainpan, so I’m just going
to tell you about my morning.
I had a fermented yogurt bowl
with strawberries and walnuts for breakfast.
Pretty standard for me, as breakfasts’ go.
Forty-five minutes of crunches,
planks, core tightening, and weight lifting.
I simultaneously love and hate
that part of my day, though I always
feel stronger afterwards.
Morning chores are standard:
housework is never-ending, so I’ve learned
to find an end spot each day.
I...
#NaPoWriMo2022
453 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Apr 2022 2:09am
21st Apr 2022 2:09am
Heartstrings Can Be Troublesome Things
I miss her little face and the way
she’d make a mistake and say, silly ole me.
I miss the way she’d screech, Lisha!
and excitedly jump into my arms.
I miss taking her to the old
Mom and Pop diner for breakfast.
She would sit, menu upside down
intensely “perusing” the options.
I miss her sleepy eyes, glued
to Adventure Time, while she lay
curled in my arms on the couch.
I miss her goofy little dance
and excitement about camping.
I miss how she would run on all fours
like a wild animal, in public, much
to...
she’d make a mistake and say, silly ole me.
I miss the way she’d screech, Lisha!
and excitedly jump into my arms.
I miss taking her to the old
Mom and Pop diner for breakfast.
She would sit, menu upside down
intensely “perusing” the options.
I miss her sleepy eyes, glued
to Adventure Time, while she lay
curled in my arms on the couch.
I miss her goofy little dance
and excitement about camping.
I miss how she would run on all fours
like a wild animal, in public, much
to...
#NaPoWriMo2022
407 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Eerie
