Submissions by Gibran
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SELF POEM
Published
20th Jan 2012 00:40am
20th Jan 2012 00:40am
Fragment
Computer talk and
lonely again
thought of rings of
hearts and
no one in particular
hands
bruises
gyrating heartthrobs
(quieter)
debt
movies on the little screen big chair and
caution tape
blankets
morse code
you and me and
(why aren't you here)
books filled with nothing but you
aluminum cans boxes
nothing (less)
open mouth with
blood promises
broken lightning bolts and billboard signs along roads with no return
(memories)
combat boots
and kneeling at the counter
too many...
lonely again
thought of rings of
hearts and
no one in particular
hands
bruises
gyrating heartthrobs
(quieter)
debt
movies on the little screen big chair and
caution tape
blankets
morse code
you and me and
(why aren't you here)
books filled with nothing but you
aluminum cans boxes
nothing (less)
open mouth with
blood promises
broken lightning bolts and billboard signs along roads with no return
(memories)
combat boots
and kneeling at the counter
too many...
575 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
15th Jan 2012 7:05pm
15th Jan 2012 7:05pm
Monday Morning
Something under my skin,
buddy-boy.
Small an black and
voluptuously evil-looking.
fFeel it crawling,
feel it squirming.
Been picking at it all day.
Something under the top layer,
Daddeo.
Think it made its entrance
through an old scar.
Not sure, but it
doesn't matter now.
It's making plans,
naming names.
And it doesn't
like
me.
It slithers through my system,
burrowing deeper in.
Wants my core....
buddy-boy.
Small an black and
voluptuously evil-looking.
fFeel it crawling,
feel it squirming.
Been picking at it all day.
Something under the top layer,
Daddeo.
Think it made its entrance
through an old scar.
Not sure, but it
doesn't matter now.
It's making plans,
naming names.
And it doesn't
like
me.
It slithers through my system,
burrowing deeper in.
Wants my core....
736 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2011 6:20am
22nd Dec 2011 6:20am
Finite
My mother
called today.
Wanted to know when I had
time to come to lunch with her.
I don't want to have
lunch with my
mother.
So I told her I'm
simply too busy to
get away for a while.
She understood.
She told me she went
to get her eyes checked
last week.
The optometrist is sending her
to a retinologist. There's been some
bleeding in the retinas.
She just wanted me to know
she won't be in town
that morning. Because it could
take a while. I've never
heard my mother's voice
sound so small.
And it made...
called today.
Wanted to know when I had
time to come to lunch with her.
I don't want to have
lunch with my
mother.
So I told her I'm
simply too busy to
get away for a while.
She understood.
She told me she went
to get her eyes checked
last week.
The optometrist is sending her
to a retinologist. There's been some
bleeding in the retinas.
She just wanted me to know
she won't be in town
that morning. Because it could
take a while. I've never
heard my mother's voice
sound so small.
And it made...
735 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Dec 2011 6:11am
20th Dec 2011 6:11am
A Free-Form Garment
Time-honored craft of the
women-folk, productive and
utilitarian at one turn,
artful and joyous at another.
I will express my love,
my concern, and sometimes
(without you noticing) my
heart's desire in this way.
You tell me that I am
throwing away progress and
equality and all things with which
modern
life has gifted me. I close my eyes and
think of all the things
I have been given by this creative process and
the ones who practice it,
all the things that
wrap me in warmth and kindness,
let me know I'm remembered in...
women-folk, productive and
utilitarian at one turn,
artful and joyous at another.
I will express my love,
my concern, and sometimes
(without you noticing) my
heart's desire in this way.
You tell me that I am
throwing away progress and
equality and all things with which
modern
life has gifted me. I close my eyes and
think of all the things
I have been given by this creative process and
the ones who practice it,
all the things that
wrap me in warmth and kindness,
let me know I'm remembered in...
563 reads
2 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
14th Dec 2011 10:40pm
14th Dec 2011 10:40pm
Compilation
Whipped cream
and your skin
make such a lovely taste.
I want
to cover you in
velvet expectations.
I want to wrap you
in thoughts
of moments held together.
The handcuffs
are fuzzy, dear, so
don't worry, it won't hurt.
Smiling at me the
way you do makes my
throat tight.
A thread of lust
winds its way through me
and lands in my knees.
They're weak,
they straddle you, and my tongue
bends to your taste.
The lights
are low, and make the outline of
you on the bed warm....
and your skin
make such a lovely taste.
I want
to cover you in
velvet expectations.
I want to wrap you
in thoughts
of moments held together.
The handcuffs
are fuzzy, dear, so
don't worry, it won't hurt.
Smiling at me the
way you do makes my
throat tight.
A thread of lust
winds its way through me
and lands in my knees.
They're weak,
they straddle you, and my tongue
bends to your taste.
The lights
are low, and make the outline of
you on the bed warm....
1056 reads
5 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
12th Dec 2011 10:38am
12th Dec 2011 10:38am
Methology
Meth'd out mama with her
thoughts on backwards and her
chewing gum tongue
running laps in her mouth.
There are holes in her skin
and ghosts in her eyes.
She likes to tell me how she
lives for her kids
(they're 3 and 5),
how they make her world go
round. And every night after
they go to sleep she gets out her pipe
and lights, baby, lights.
And she sits on the couch
dismantling her knitting machine
so she can put it back together and know
how it works. She wants to make her babies
new, warm sweaters. A blue one for the boy,...
thoughts on backwards and her
chewing gum tongue
running laps in her mouth.
There are holes in her skin
and ghosts in her eyes.
She likes to tell me how she
lives for her kids
(they're 3 and 5),
how they make her world go
round. And every night after
they go to sleep she gets out her pipe
and lights, baby, lights.
And she sits on the couch
dismantling her knitting machine
so she can put it back together and know
how it works. She wants to make her babies
new, warm sweaters. A blue one for the boy,...
961 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Dec 2011 10:01am
12th Dec 2011 10:01am
Season's Greetings
"You'll never
grow up, or be anything
of use to society.
You're lazy and irresponsible and
I don't know why
you're on the phone
with me.
I told you to stop
coming to see me.
And I told you not
to call!"
...
...Merry Christmas to you, too, Mom.
grow up, or be anything
of use to society.
You're lazy and irresponsible and
I don't know why
you're on the phone
with me.
I told you to stop
coming to see me.
And I told you not
to call!"
...
...Merry Christmas to you, too, Mom.
733 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Gibran
