Submissions by EveAteRedApples
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th Sep 2012 12:31pm
15th Sep 2012 12:31pm
more than a sexual (history) object
he likes me ‘cause he’s lonely
and I talk a lot
my thoughts traveling from mind to mouth
with little thought of what any of it means
I like a man that asks questions
shows, or at least pretends to show
an interest in me
as long as he doesn’t dig too deep
if I asked, he wouldn’t say no to fucking me
because I’ve piqued his curiosity with my bad girl ways
and now all he does is ask
how it feels to take my clothes off for money
I liked him better when we had something in common
spending hours discussing b-grade horror...
and I talk a lot
my thoughts traveling from mind to mouth
with little thought of what any of it means
I like a man that asks questions
shows, or at least pretends to show
an interest in me
as long as he doesn’t dig too deep
if I asked, he wouldn’t say no to fucking me
because I’ve piqued his curiosity with my bad girl ways
and now all he does is ask
how it feels to take my clothes off for money
I liked him better when we had something in common
spending hours discussing b-grade horror...
834 reads
6 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
15th Sep 2012 7:16am
15th Sep 2012 7:16am
this time around
we’re a little bit out of control this time
breathing in the blood from fights exhaled
and onto the streets of whiskey-and-coke vomit
I want to lick the cigarette smoke
on the inside of your mouth
and taste the night that’s not yet over
my eyes flicker over the crumpled clothes
your body hangs with ease
and I’d tear them from your bruised skin
and make love to the shadows of your drunken soul
if it weren’t for our previous public indecency charges
I’m a little bit out of control this time
letting you drag me around by...
breathing in the blood from fights exhaled
and onto the streets of whiskey-and-coke vomit
I want to lick the cigarette smoke
on the inside of your mouth
and taste the night that’s not yet over
my eyes flicker over the crumpled clothes
your body hangs with ease
and I’d tear them from your bruised skin
and make love to the shadows of your drunken soul
if it weren’t for our previous public indecency charges
I’m a little bit out of control this time
letting you drag me around by...
877 reads
6 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
13th Sep 2012 1:19pm
13th Sep 2012 1:19pm
Just a fantasy
she said she could see the Devil in me
it made me smile that someone
anyone
could see past my sweet girl façade
and I wanted to kiss her just then
hard and deep and crazily
in the middle of the street
with pedestrians all around us
I didn’t care at all who would see
but I didn’t dare let myself forget
that she was out of my league
and incredibly straight
so instead I take her to bed
in my midnight imaginings
where I can wrap my fingers around her neck
and slam her against a wall
so hard I can hear it...
it made me smile that someone
anyone
could see past my sweet girl façade
and I wanted to kiss her just then
hard and deep and crazily
in the middle of the street
with pedestrians all around us
I didn’t care at all who would see
but I didn’t dare let myself forget
that she was out of my league
and incredibly straight
so instead I take her to bed
in my midnight imaginings
where I can wrap my fingers around her neck
and slam her against a wall
so hard I can hear it...
984 reads
7 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Sep 2012 5:15am
13th Sep 2012 5:15am
McDonalds and naive idealism
he asked me for directions to McDonald's
because everyone's always looking for the big M
he was from Israel, here on a working holiday
as we sat on the bench watching the street
just outside the local cinema, and talked for a while
he spoke English well
I asked him about Israel and what it was like
to live in a war torn country
he smiled and said it depends where you live
and not everywhere is violent
he said my country was perfect, so beautiful
and serene and free of racism
I laughed and burst his idealist bubble ...
because everyone's always looking for the big M
he was from Israel, here on a working holiday
as we sat on the bench watching the street
just outside the local cinema, and talked for a while
he spoke English well
I asked him about Israel and what it was like
to live in a war torn country
he smiled and said it depends where you live
and not everywhere is violent
he said my country was perfect, so beautiful
and serene and free of racism
I laughed and burst his idealist bubble ...
705 reads
7 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Sep 2012 2:10am
13th Sep 2012 2:10am
inhaling dead roses
he was a reflection of my inner self
the representation of the demon in me
caged behind the dead rose posy
overloaded with Chanel perfume
and the cloying scent of red wine addiction
she was a virgin suicide waiting to happen
youth and innocence her mask
for the societal masquerade ball
where no one is themselves
she liked my smile and I liked her lies
we courted languidly beneath a blue moon
tangled in the brambles of shame and desire
our union like the birth of a black hole
leaving our souls...
the representation of the demon in me
caged behind the dead rose posy
overloaded with Chanel perfume
and the cloying scent of red wine addiction
she was a virgin suicide waiting to happen
youth and innocence her mask
for the societal masquerade ball
where no one is themselves
she liked my smile and I liked her lies
we courted languidly beneath a blue moon
tangled in the brambles of shame and desire
our union like the birth of a black hole
leaving our souls...
738 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Sep 2012 11:32am
12th Sep 2012 11:32am
Molotov dreams (a poem about bullying)
she was fourteen years old
when the boys at school
pressed her up against dark walls
in deserted hallways
and told her they'd light her house on fire
with the Molotov cocktails they'd made
just for her
shaking hands on an emptying bottle of brandy
she secretly drank herself to sleep
to dream of screams and a stake
where she was crucified
for reasons she couldn't comprehend
a post-traumatic-stress statistic
found foetal and crying, alone in a closet
long past the threshold of a therapists dream
all...
when the boys at school
pressed her up against dark walls
in deserted hallways
and told her they'd light her house on fire
with the Molotov cocktails they'd made
just for her
shaking hands on an emptying bottle of brandy
she secretly drank herself to sleep
to dream of screams and a stake
where she was crucified
for reasons she couldn't comprehend
a post-traumatic-stress statistic
found foetal and crying, alone in a closet
long past the threshold of a therapists dream
all...
760 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Sep 2012 9:39pm
11th Sep 2012 9:39pm
popularity complex
let's be a Hollywood cliche
let's fight and die for a popularity high
as though love can be bought, sold and traded
to replace the insecurities of talentless whores
who think the American Dream is the end of all dreams
let's be slaves to a system that make believes we're free
work hard, love hard, party hard, save your money
have it all, so you can die alone
let's be puppets for expectations of glory
like soldiers who's greatest act of patriotism is murder
we'll call it life and pretend that we're happy
yeah, I want to be...
let's fight and die for a popularity high
as though love can be bought, sold and traded
to replace the insecurities of talentless whores
who think the American Dream is the end of all dreams
let's be slaves to a system that make believes we're free
work hard, love hard, party hard, save your money
have it all, so you can die alone
let's be puppets for expectations of glory
like soldiers who's greatest act of patriotism is murder
we'll call it life and pretend that we're happy
yeah, I want to be...
693 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Sep 2012 11:35am
11th Sep 2012 11:35am
the not-affair
I swear I am not having an affair with your husband
this is not what it looks like”
I want to say we never did you wrong
but you know we’d both be lying
and yet I can say with all sincerity
that I never took your man to bed
I felt like the secret keeper between your lies
and when he called around that day
I was too drunk not to give you up
if I’d only had something to give away
no time can justify a year’s worth of talking
about bad movies and insomnia
not quite the scandal you had in mind
is it?
...
this is not what it looks like”
I want to say we never did you wrong
but you know we’d both be lying
and yet I can say with all sincerity
that I never took your man to bed
I felt like the secret keeper between your lies
and when he called around that day
I was too drunk not to give you up
if I’d only had something to give away
no time can justify a year’s worth of talking
about bad movies and insomnia
not quite the scandal you had in mind
is it?
...
926 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by EveAteRedApples
