Submissions by Grae (Bryan Gray)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Poetry is my therapy.
STORY POEM
Published
2nd Feb 2021 3:12pm
2nd Feb 2021 3:12pm
vesuvias dream 2/15/20
our clothes
whipping and flailing
like the flags of some shipwrecked galleon
your long black hair flowing behind you
like smoke trailing from a wreckage
we're holding hands
on the shore in pompeii
watching the plume rise into the stratosphere
waiting
for the pyroclastic flow
whipping and flailing
like the flags of some shipwrecked galleon
your long black hair flowing behind you
like smoke trailing from a wreckage
we're holding hands
on the shore in pompeii
watching the plume rise into the stratosphere
waiting
for the pyroclastic flow
#dreams
408 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
8th Jan 2021 5:49am
8th Jan 2021 5:49am
lady with the sliding miter saw
i watched her run the blade
across the lumber
gliding through
how a finger might run through hair
blonde hair, her hair
speckled with conifer
spraying onto her black zip-up hoodie
and the saw screamed
i don't know why
seeing her work a profession
mostly dominated by men
would make me like her more
but it does
across the lumber
gliding through
how a finger might run through hair
blonde hair, her hair
speckled with conifer
spraying onto her black zip-up hoodie
and the saw screamed
i don't know why
seeing her work a profession
mostly dominated by men
would make me like her more
but it does
#love
410 reads
5 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
20th Dec 2020 5:35am
20th Dec 2020 5:35am
dead horse
sunray touches my arm
and chrysanthemums sprout there
there are so many people
so many mouths like guillotines
lunettes upon necks
i used to like this place
now i loathe it
instead of eyes, i see obol
instead of voice, a symphony of strangulated throats
i heard the last comedian die
i saw the road blur
and the world go black
and chrysanthemums sprout there
there are so many people
so many mouths like guillotines
lunettes upon necks
i used to like this place
now i loathe it
instead of eyes, i see obol
instead of voice, a symphony of strangulated throats
i heard the last comedian die
i saw the road blur
and the world go black
#death
390 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
21st Nov 2020 2:04am
21st Nov 2020 2:04am
contrasts
mostly a mass
of red tissue and fat
tongue hanging there
flaccid and motionless
eyes fixed lazily on nothing
jaw completely gone
dead
i would browse for gore
while you crocheted bracelets
for your friends
of red tissue and fat
tongue hanging there
flaccid and motionless
eyes fixed lazily on nothing
jaw completely gone
dead
i would browse for gore
while you crocheted bracelets
for your friends
#SelfReflection
354 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Nov 2020 5:33am
13th Nov 2020 5:33am
a dumbing
sky ever expanding
world ever closing in
the meat turns
sirius burns out
not a wick long enough
scales down the house lights
eyes to dim
and the apples to rot
'generation expiration'
no more sunrises
without color
glow
understandings
meat putrifies
if it is all
that it can do
world ever closing in
the meat turns
sirius burns out
not a wick long enough
scales down the house lights
eyes to dim
and the apples to rot
'generation expiration'
no more sunrises
without color
glow
understandings
meat putrifies
if it is all
that it can do
#culture
359 reads
6 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Apr 2020 7:41am
15th Apr 2020 7:41am
mise en place
tendon in the wheelhouse
butter sings
roadkill sonnets
lack of jaw
bonesaw syntax
just give me the words
there were too many stars...
go back to the ocean
back to sun
push a drill
through me
for core samples
count the extinction events
sinew on the running board
world mise en place
mandible gone
belly full of lullaby, mouth full of stars
you are somewhere
at the bottom of this bottle
you have to be
butter sings
roadkill sonnets
lack of jaw
bonesaw syntax
just give me the words
there were too many stars...
go back to the ocean
back to sun
push a drill
through me
for core samples
count the extinction events
sinew on the running board
world mise en place
mandible gone
belly full of lullaby, mouth full of stars
you are somewhere
at the bottom of this bottle
you have to be
#sadness
#loneliness
527 reads
7 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
12th Jul 2019 5:11am
12th Jul 2019 5:11am
ghost machine
lead and brass
fed into the ghost machine
let it rain
and everyone around him goes to sleep
it's mercy mostly
some of it
is for kicks though
save a raindrop for himself
it's for his brain
to pass through his skull
and disappear into the drywall
it's mercy
mostly
fed into the ghost machine
let it rain
and everyone around him goes to sleep
it's mercy mostly
some of it
is for kicks though
save a raindrop for himself
it's for his brain
to pass through his skull
and disappear into the drywall
it's mercy
mostly
#murder
#violence
#death
528 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Dec 2018 7:03am
14th Dec 2018 7:03am
fertile crescent
same
soil
for your heaven collapsing
mother reduced
of a genocide
homicide, matricide
in que
and of the same womb
for a deicide
ecocide, infanticide
the same pulse
commiting
androcide
biocide, dominicide.
all the same heartbreak
all the same soil
with so many different words
for murder
and only one
for love
soil
for your heaven collapsing
mother reduced
of a genocide
homicide, matricide
in que
and of the same womb
for a deicide
ecocide, infanticide
the same pulse
commiting
androcide
biocide, dominicide.
all the same heartbreak
all the same soil
with so many different words
for murder
and only one
for love
#murder
#violence
#oppression #war
#oppression #war
827 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Aug 2018 1:44pm
16th Aug 2018 1:44pm
the impressionist
grazing the tops of wild flowers.
fingers do this
in some sun-filled dream,
some golden vale that i have never seen.
when i open my eyes i see nothing.
when i close my eyes i see you.
don't bring me flowers.
i see bubonic sky,
white rib cage dripping red sinew.
singing, yelling,
screaming.
head full of corpse.
eyes like a pair of exit wounds
in some sun-scorched dream,
some burning vale that i have never seen.
everything looked like monet.
fingers do this
in some sun-filled dream,
some golden vale that i have never seen.
when i open my eyes i see nothing.
when i close my eyes i see you.
don't bring me flowers.
i see bubonic sky,
white rib cage dripping red sinew.
singing, yelling,
screaming.
head full of corpse.
eyes like a pair of exit wounds
in some sun-scorched dream,
some burning vale that i have never seen.
everything looked like monet.
#despair
574 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
6th Jun 2018 6:18am
6th Jun 2018 6:18am
untitled (6/5/18)
sun-white
blossom for cupped hands
sun lodged in my trachea
learn to split atoms
my roman horizon
war in vein
god seed
i dreamt
the sky had finally fallen
i dreamt
i saw andromeda pirouette
into the mouths of men
eyes like geode
like polyurethane
like brine
all of it
just a skull full of afterglow
earth burns red
on the inside
so do i
blossom for cupped hands
sun lodged in my trachea
learn to split atoms
my roman horizon
war in vein
god seed
i dreamt
the sky had finally fallen
i dreamt
i saw andromeda pirouette
into the mouths of men
eyes like geode
like polyurethane
like brine
all of it
just a skull full of afterglow
earth burns red
on the inside
so do i
#sadness
#anxiety
548 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
30th Jan 2018 5:37am
30th Jan 2018 5:37am
copernicus
flood of starlight
like detrimental fog
let it burn my eyes to a crisp
be it god
be it a hole in the sky
my dreamscape cognition
first there was asphyxia
and then there was
night sky
we rely on sight
to ascertain
but the problem is
we are still learning how to use
our eyes.
like detrimental fog
let it burn my eyes to a crisp
be it god
be it a hole in the sky
my dreamscape cognition
first there was asphyxia
and then there was
night sky
we rely on sight
to ascertain
but the problem is
we are still learning how to use
our eyes.
#PopCulture
712 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Jan 2018 7:54am
18th Jan 2018 7:54am
arachnophile
there are these gyres in me
where mistakes twirl and swirl around
the ones i haven't learned from
maybe one day
i'll have more than two eyes
we could talk about lurid things
or love and connection
and i could watch all eight of your legs
splay open like a ruptured rib cage
grisliness
is second
only to charm
where mistakes twirl and swirl around
the ones i haven't learned from
maybe one day
i'll have more than two eyes
we could talk about lurid things
or love and connection
and i could watch all eight of your legs
splay open like a ruptured rib cage
grisliness
is second
only to charm
#PopCulture
565 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by Grae (Bryan Gray)
