Submissions by Gibran
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Jun 2012 2:05am
18th Jun 2012 2:05am
Because I Love You
A slow, heavy word.
Breathed out like fog turned to stone.
A hard, sharp sword of a laugh.
She did it to turn me on.
Or so she said, but that was a few moons in the past.
Fingertips like marbles, hard against my skin with cold,
weighted reminders of why I'm here.
She wanted to make me moan.
But sometimes I fail.
And you can't always give people what they want,
even when their lips are like tissue paper
and their eyes are black holes.
Or maybe it was all
for the sake of
a word.
A slow, heavy word.
Revolutions and
evolutions...
Breathed out like fog turned to stone.
A hard, sharp sword of a laugh.
She did it to turn me on.
Or so she said, but that was a few moons in the past.
Fingertips like marbles, hard against my skin with cold,
weighted reminders of why I'm here.
She wanted to make me moan.
But sometimes I fail.
And you can't always give people what they want,
even when their lips are like tissue paper
and their eyes are black holes.
Or maybe it was all
for the sake of
a word.
A slow, heavy word.
Revolutions and
evolutions...
661 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
26th Apr 2012 2:57am
26th Apr 2012 2:57am
Cruising
I can see the lights zooming past us.
Darkness surrounds us in a
safe little cocoon, and we
fear
nothing.
Keep hurtling toward nowhere,
taste the freedom that's ours alone.
Dash around,
crashing down,
nothing matters
but the riff, baby, the riff.
I can hear it,
I can taste the music
on my tongue like a
good goddamn
or a
better cup of coffee.
Sweet blonde thing is crooning to us,
and we
know
everything.
Or enough of everything
to get us what we want,
which is nothing
but what we've got....
Darkness surrounds us in a
safe little cocoon, and we
fear
nothing.
Keep hurtling toward nowhere,
taste the freedom that's ours alone.
Dash around,
crashing down,
nothing matters
but the riff, baby, the riff.
I can hear it,
I can taste the music
on my tongue like a
good goddamn
or a
better cup of coffee.
Sweet blonde thing is crooning to us,
and we
know
everything.
Or enough of everything
to get us what we want,
which is nothing
but what we've got....
616 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
26th Apr 2012 2:30am
26th Apr 2012 2:30am
Acceptance
You did what you had to do.
I know that,
now.
There were pieces of your heart
that I couldn't hold
in my flawed,
small
hands.
Everyone deserves
a chance to be
completely,
radiantly
present.
Without guilt,
without wistfulness.
I hope
(now, I hope - not then, no)
that you
were more than present,
that every molecule
of your soul
was inundated
with place, with
time, with
peace.
And I hope
(yes, now I hope)
that the death
of Coming Back
wasn't as painful
as it sounds
to my...
I know that,
now.
There were pieces of your heart
that I couldn't hold
in my flawed,
small
hands.
Everyone deserves
a chance to be
completely,
radiantly
present.
Without guilt,
without wistfulness.
I hope
(now, I hope - not then, no)
that you
were more than present,
that every molecule
of your soul
was inundated
with place, with
time, with
peace.
And I hope
(yes, now I hope)
that the death
of Coming Back
wasn't as painful
as it sounds
to my...
600 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Feb 2012 6:46am
23rd Feb 2012 6:46am
Lost
There are
a lot of shells
in the road.
Empty shells of
opportunities lost
and things forgotten.
Friends unmade,
choices undone.
The whole ground is
littered with them,
husks of things
that are not
and now never will be.
Grey and
silent and
I look at each of them in turn.
And wish
you were not one of them.
But that desire
is a husk, itself,
and I know
the wind will sweep it away.
A figment of my...
a lot of shells
in the road.
Empty shells of
opportunities lost
and things forgotten.
Friends unmade,
choices undone.
The whole ground is
littered with them,
husks of things
that are not
and now never will be.
Grey and
silent and
I look at each of them in turn.
And wish
you were not one of them.
But that desire
is a husk, itself,
and I know
the wind will sweep it away.
A figment of my...
777 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Feb 2012 9:23pm
18th Feb 2012 9:23pm
In the Break Room
At the place where I work
(grudgingly, soul-sappingly, necessarily),
there's a coffee pot.
A very large,
very heavy,
community coffee pot.
It hates me.
Sees me coming
when it's my turn
to empty it out
and make more
(abominable, weak, bitter) coffee.
And
it
laughs.
Because it knows
I hate this place
and I hate its coffee
and I hate lifting that damn thing
over the sink.
So as I spill
coffee
(horrible, gritty, burnt coffee)
all over the floor
and the counter
and my uniform,
I know
that...
(grudgingly, soul-sappingly, necessarily),
there's a coffee pot.
A very large,
very heavy,
community coffee pot.
It hates me.
Sees me coming
when it's my turn
to empty it out
and make more
(abominable, weak, bitter) coffee.
And
it
laughs.
Because it knows
I hate this place
and I hate its coffee
and I hate lifting that damn thing
over the sink.
So as I spill
coffee
(horrible, gritty, burnt coffee)
all over the floor
and the counter
and my uniform,
I know
that...
663 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Feb 2012 5:50am
16th Feb 2012 5:50am
Diner Noir
Thinking about you,
sitting in this diner,
wishing I could smoke in here.
Looking around at the
red and white
checkerboard tiling and
the vinyl seats.
God, you'd love this place.
They're playing some
kind of old jazz and
it's got me all tangled up
in old thoughts.
Waitress wants to know
what I want, and I can't
bring myself
to try
the special, so I'm stuck
with a hamburger.
She winks at me
as she turns to go,
but she's at least 50, and
not my type anyway
(never liked peroxide blondes).
Looking...
sitting in this diner,
wishing I could smoke in here.
Looking around at the
red and white
checkerboard tiling and
the vinyl seats.
God, you'd love this place.
They're playing some
kind of old jazz and
it's got me all tangled up
in old thoughts.
Waitress wants to know
what I want, and I can't
bring myself
to try
the special, so I'm stuck
with a hamburger.
She winks at me
as she turns to go,
but she's at least 50, and
not my type anyway
(never liked peroxide blondes).
Looking...
622 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
13th Feb 2012 5:24am
13th Feb 2012 5:24am
Wishful Driving
This rain,
this rain is
killing me.
I can hear it
on the windowpane
keeping me
from the grass
and the sky.
But this rain,
this rain,
it keeps me
in the car.
And as long as I
keep going,
I won't remember that
(you're gone).
Keep thinking about
that night waiting for you.
Sterile walls
and sickly lighting,
and making small talk,
when there was nothing
to say.
I knew how it
would end,
but I kept hoping.
I kept hoping.
Wish I was somewhere
like Nebraska,
with all the things...
this rain is
killing me.
I can hear it
on the windowpane
keeping me
from the grass
and the sky.
But this rain,
this rain,
it keeps me
in the car.
And as long as I
keep going,
I won't remember that
(you're gone).
Keep thinking about
that night waiting for you.
Sterile walls
and sickly lighting,
and making small talk,
when there was nothing
to say.
I knew how it
would end,
but I kept hoping.
I kept hoping.
Wish I was somewhere
like Nebraska,
with all the things...
628 reads
2 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
11th Feb 2012 6:32am
11th Feb 2012 6:32am
Daytime Distractions
You said something this morning,
something that made me
quiver in my
valley down below.
A turn of phrase from you and I am
tense with longing.
And now my day will be
one
big
distraction, as I consider and
reconsider the possibilities.
I keep returning to
a want long-denied.
Your hands on my
waist, reaching around me from behind.
Creeping up my shirt and
exploring my skin until you reach
what you were after.
Cupping my small breasts in your
large hands and grazing my nipples with your
strong and lithe...
something that made me
quiver in my
valley down below.
A turn of phrase from you and I am
tense with longing.
And now my day will be
one
big
distraction, as I consider and
reconsider the possibilities.
I keep returning to
a want long-denied.
Your hands on my
waist, reaching around me from behind.
Creeping up my shirt and
exploring my skin until you reach
what you were after.
Cupping my small breasts in your
large hands and grazing my nipples with your
strong and lithe...
1032 reads
5 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
11th Feb 2012 6:24am
11th Feb 2012 6:24am
A Column of Insufficiency
I keep
trying.
Why?
I will
never
be the
thing
they
want.
Let's
just go
away.
I don't
want
to try
any
more.
And
all my
many
me's
said
yes.
Let's
go.
Retreat.
Now.
We will
never
be
enough.
trying.
Why?
I will
never
be the
thing
they
want.
Let's
just go
away.
I don't
want
to try
any
more.
And
all my
many
me's
said
yes.
Let's
go.
Retreat.
Now.
We will
never
be
enough.
543 reads
3 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
10th Feb 2012 6:51am
10th Feb 2012 6:51am
Jesse
Walked in with
a guitar in his hand,
and life got
very interesting.
A little too old
to be doing
what he's doing.
But he looked damn
good
doing it.
Played a few chords,
tapping his foot in time.
All the girls
perked up a little,
and thought,
"Hell, grey hair is kinda
sexy."
When he left
there were
6 phone numbers and
a thong
in his back pocket.
Age is
just a...
a guitar in his hand,
and life got
very interesting.
A little too old
to be doing
what he's doing.
But he looked damn
good
doing it.
Played a few chords,
tapping his foot in time.
All the girls
perked up a little,
and thought,
"Hell, grey hair is kinda
sexy."
When he left
there were
6 phone numbers and
a thong
in his back pocket.
Age is
just a...
697 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Feb 2012 6:30am
6th Feb 2012 6:30am
Escapism
burn
burn
faster
harder
more
thoughts and (heart-knife) sunfire
wax the moon
off and on
on and off
let's go
let's make
let's be
let's have
burn less for me
thoughts and
(nothing and) vinyl
hurts my ears, does it hurt your heart?
no no no no no no no no no no keep thinking of
(nothing at all)
let's have another, darling
let's have another moment
let's bring the moon back
let's burn (faster) i'm not dying yet
there's so much more time to do
something like this
more and...
burn
faster
harder
more
thoughts and (heart-knife) sunfire
wax the moon
off and on
on and off
let's go
let's make
let's be
let's have
burn less for me
thoughts and
(nothing and) vinyl
hurts my ears, does it hurt your heart?
no no no no no no no no no no keep thinking of
(nothing at all)
let's have another, darling
let's have another moment
let's bring the moon back
let's burn (faster) i'm not dying yet
there's so much more time to do
something like this
more and...
643 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
2nd Feb 2012 7:13pm
2nd Feb 2012 7:13pm
Insomniac
I want to make something
(anything)
laptops and sweaters make for
odd thoughts in the night.
What would I do without you?
Maybe nothing at all.
Bookcases
empty
waiting to be filled
clocks and neckties and
(nothing in particular)
Why is no one there? Why is this still empty?
Missed keys and
honeyed perfume.
Thinking of blankets and (you and me and)
that morning on the bridge.
But that was a long time ago. No thoughts any more.
It hurts to think of what's gone (what's changed).
Oh, I wish you were here....
(anything)
laptops and sweaters make for
odd thoughts in the night.
What would I do without you?
Maybe nothing at all.
Bookcases
empty
waiting to be filled
clocks and neckties and
(nothing in particular)
Why is no one there? Why is this still empty?
Missed keys and
honeyed perfume.
Thinking of blankets and (you and me and)
that morning on the bridge.
But that was a long time ago. No thoughts any more.
It hurts to think of what's gone (what's changed).
Oh, I wish you were here....
671 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Gibran
