Submissions by Everavalon
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
The serpents tongue is liquid and claims to be wise
A jar, falling inward
Mother,
your words tickle more
wrists than a shackle.
Rejection spreads lost stature to the fledgling sparrow.
Despair depletes flair, in layers.
Thrust from the nest,
the sparrow’s wilt phases like destiny’s whine.
Each night upon the meadow,
he flits from branch to twig with his virgin wings; breathing in viscous mist.
He expresses his call through syrup,
his voice, wading through the lull of pity
like melancholy upends a jar—
falling inward.
The venom leaks
out of his mother;
a churn of vintage...
your words tickle more
wrists than a shackle.
Rejection spreads lost stature to the fledgling sparrow.
Despair depletes flair, in layers.
Thrust from the nest,
the sparrow’s wilt phases like destiny’s whine.
Each night upon the meadow,
he flits from branch to twig with his virgin wings; breathing in viscous mist.
He expresses his call through syrup,
his voice, wading through the lull of pity
like melancholy upends a jar—
falling inward.
The venom leaks
out of his mother;
a churn of vintage...
#LifeAsAWriter
#SelfReflection
60 reads
2 Comments
Empty lines
Beneath the loam, my precious will
Aside my tome, a readied quill
Up from the sand, a flaunting hand
Where gestures pose no strict command
I delve into my mother’s breast
To petrify her cruel unrest
To allocate her fulsome scold
Upon my page where letters bold
Within my script all dressed in grey
My mood eclipsed the darkest day
My eyes, unturned from dusk to dawn
Within the depth, these notions spawn
I cannot grip a hand that’s smooth
Upon my heart, you’ve left a groove
No patience spun for tongues that lash ...
Aside my tome, a readied quill
Up from the sand, a flaunting hand
Where gestures pose no strict command
I delve into my mother’s breast
To petrify her cruel unrest
To allocate her fulsome scold
Upon my page where letters bold
Within my script all dressed in grey
My mood eclipsed the darkest day
My eyes, unturned from dusk to dawn
Within the depth, these notions spawn
I cannot grip a hand that’s smooth
Upon my heart, you’ve left a groove
No patience spun for tongues that lash ...
#SelfReflection
48 reads
0 Comments
Nights of abandon
I bow before the open water
To exhale these restrictions that once drenched me
I’ve silenced the reticence; this burdensome embrace that once framed this vessel in melancholy
Where water rippled over my shoulders with its sullen lines;
defining depth with a thousand fingers, pulling
nudging the soul out of rapture
I’ve been called to task
Give me surrender; like the release of a pearl into the expanse
where what’s left within my shell is a marked recess where emptiness once lay
Readied… wasting…
I’ve primed my essence to rise...
To exhale these restrictions that once drenched me
I’ve silenced the reticence; this burdensome embrace that once framed this vessel in melancholy
Where water rippled over my shoulders with its sullen lines;
defining depth with a thousand fingers, pulling
nudging the soul out of rapture
I’ve been called to task
Give me surrender; like the release of a pearl into the expanse
where what’s left within my shell is a marked recess where emptiness once lay
Readied… wasting…
I’ve primed my essence to rise...
#SelfReflection
61 reads
1 Comment
Misspent
Strife is consistent through life and through trap
Where the eyes are insistent the misspent are scrap
Fragmented sorrow all measured in will
A lilt of endeavour to heighten the thrill
The spaces between us; we huddle, on cue
The faces that root us, all muddied and blue
The treasure, inflicted, by rust and decline
A tormented soul with a nick in their spine
Wandering lowly, wherefore does it scald
On the tip of the temple where sadness is mulled
Where the eyes are insistent the misspent are scrap
Fragmented sorrow all measured in will
A lilt of endeavour to heighten the thrill
The spaces between us; we huddle, on cue
The faces that root us, all muddied and blue
The treasure, inflicted, by rust and decline
A tormented soul with a nick in their spine
Wandering lowly, wherefore does it scald
On the tip of the temple where sadness is mulled
#dark
55 reads
0 Comments
I am Century
I’ve secured abandon in these inconsistencies;
never reckless
with countless stanzas defining these anomalies
with the quiver of my pen
I peruse discretion with a turned cheek;
sadness with a gilded tear
The sun never sets on my potential
My effort’s influential
Uncertainty is never written in the tilt of the moon;
It simply is as it is
My prevalence is wild enough to appease even the raven as he reflects pride over the cleanest of bone
I am unique; I have century in my spirit
I am an old soul; I cast depth through these...
never reckless
with countless stanzas defining these anomalies
with the quiver of my pen
I peruse discretion with a turned cheek;
sadness with a gilded tear
The sun never sets on my potential
My effort’s influential
Uncertainty is never written in the tilt of the moon;
It simply is as it is
My prevalence is wild enough to appease even the raven as he reflects pride over the cleanest of bone
I am unique; I have century in my spirit
I am an old soul; I cast depth through these...
#SelfDiscovery
54 reads
0 Comments
The riven
An essence remains where endeavour melts away the noisome; the one the devil selects to grease the flanks. Unsteady knees and shoulders that droop. A thousand seasons couldn’t whisk away these scars; these lines of peril writ of the ashes of those darkened days.
I walk the glade because i’ve been emptied. I need to breathe in the expanse. I need to fill my lungs with green earth imbued with raw mirth. Even though my eyes surveil through a veil that’s been sullied. I carve a path over the riven. Treading over these fragments that pinch the grass. And not because of necessity....
I walk the glade because i’ve been emptied. I need to breathe in the expanse. I need to fill my lungs with green earth imbued with raw mirth. Even though my eyes surveil through a veil that’s been sullied. I carve a path over the riven. Treading over these fragments that pinch the grass. And not because of necessity....
#SelfReflection
56 reads
2 Comments
Dusk’s blanket
Content to breathe fire
Inhaling the static
Exhaling as the panic that pricks the lips
Too many words are perusing our fate
Bidding the deeds left unburnt by your tenor
I sip on these flames often
Rolling them around on my tongue
I measure their captivity;
shape their tether on my spirit
Drop the ones that don’t smooth ego’s
Prop the ones that bruise
I am defined by the pinch of your voice
These quips that sear
These nips that tear into my flesh
And transform my nectar into poison
to be drank under dusk’s blanket ...
Inhaling the static
Exhaling as the panic that pricks the lips
Too many words are perusing our fate
Bidding the deeds left unburnt by your tenor
I sip on these flames often
Rolling them around on my tongue
I measure their captivity;
shape their tether on my spirit
Drop the ones that don’t smooth ego’s
Prop the ones that bruise
I am defined by the pinch of your voice
These quips that sear
These nips that tear into my flesh
And transform my nectar into poison
to be drank under dusk’s blanket ...
#dark
75 reads
2 Comments
Lonesome lines
Forget wading through the river. The current is harassing and the bottom, dismissive. The whirlpools, evasive; the haughty, permissive. The stones have bullied the balance right out of my gesture. The silt between them grips my gait like it’s in the market for ground bone. The critters beneath nibble at my flesh as it’s shaven, tickling my wounds with their whiskers. Their eyes leak desire when I’m moistened. The fish are hungry here.
Forget walking through the forest. Seven minutes in and the trees aren’t done whispering my location. There’s no silence to be had in these...
Forget walking through the forest. Seven minutes in and the trees aren’t done whispering my location. There’s no silence to be had in these...
#SelfReflection
70 reads
0 Comments
The pearl
Perpetual moments of smoulder fills my vessel with a constant smoke. The grey behind this vision is murky with obscure sediment smothering my perception. Sadness, despair; an excursion of amplified impression. I am justified in this plunder of mirth that was once the foundation that soothed me.
In loneliness, my mind had become valiant with austerity. I was the stern that upended the bow. I was the silence in the lighthouse on temperate nights. I was the heckle in the crowd at your theatre plays. I could be anyone then, so long as I was dismissive. I was callous and hardened; as...
In loneliness, my mind had become valiant with austerity. I was the stern that upended the bow. I was the silence in the lighthouse on temperate nights. I was the heckle in the crowd at your theatre plays. I could be anyone then, so long as I was dismissive. I was callous and hardened; as...
#SelfReflection
73 reads
2 Comments
In shadows
In meadows they tread
In coves they unveil
In shadows they talk
Until miles prevail
Abreast of the bounty
All covered in gold
Eclipse the dramatic
Defining the bold
Earth lay the coven
Ne’er tattered nor spoiled
May the moon shows it’s clever
To the shadows that toiled
In coves they unveil
In shadows they talk
Until miles prevail
Abreast of the bounty
All covered in gold
Eclipse the dramatic
Defining the bold
Earth lay the coven
Ne’er tattered nor spoiled
May the moon shows it’s clever
To the shadows that toiled
#LifeAsAWriter
#SelfDiscovery
#SelfReflection
62 reads
2 Comments
Emotive soirée
I’m feral and lost in this absent pity
I feel no pressure to own your feelings;
this upset that drains you
I measure your sound with my palms,
caressing the sculpt of your fuse
I finger the noise that emits with amplification
and reverberate it back with a higher pitch
I resonate at a higher frequency
I grind my poise with stone
My feet, firm and resolute
I feel your energy with these tendrils that pierce you
I placate the shudder of your worth
and may swelter under your scrutiny
but will not drench in your emotive...
I feel no pressure to own your feelings;
this upset that drains you
I measure your sound with my palms,
caressing the sculpt of your fuse
I finger the noise that emits with amplification
and reverberate it back with a higher pitch
I resonate at a higher frequency
I grind my poise with stone
My feet, firm and resolute
I feel your energy with these tendrils that pierce you
I placate the shudder of your worth
and may swelter under your scrutiny
but will not drench in your emotive...
#LifeAsAWriter
#SelfReflection
87 reads
4 Comments
Unwritten words
Fought with the blood
coursing through my veins
Thoughts, segmented into gelatinous ooze
reminiscent of sap seeping intermittently from my bark
My wounds as unsettled as unwritten words
Unstrung lights,
darken the absent hue
Blackening the bones where they roam
Sampling the girth of their stain
I am every pixel of its palette
a measure of simple eyes
I strain to forgive thy wounds
and put the bloom before the husk
Like the cloth before the loom
Sparse gaze,
balking at the forest toothpicks
Upending...
coursing through my veins
Thoughts, segmented into gelatinous ooze
reminiscent of sap seeping intermittently from my bark
My wounds as unsettled as unwritten words
Unstrung lights,
darken the absent hue
Blackening the bones where they roam
Sampling the girth of their stain
I am every pixel of its palette
a measure of simple eyes
I strain to forgive thy wounds
and put the bloom before the husk
Like the cloth before the loom
Sparse gaze,
balking at the forest toothpicks
Upending...
#SelfReflection
72 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Everavalon