Submissions by Handcuffs (et al)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
"On the plains of hesitation bleach the bones of countless millions, who, on the dawn of victory sat resting, and resting...died." - Sam Euwing
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Jan 2016 3:16pm
19th Jan 2016 3:16pm
Yoda Father-in-Law
There you are, hanging on the wall,Yoda father-in- law of mine.
In many paintings of love created you, in oils, yes.
One self portrait, catches the eye, it does.
One of you in the row boat with your blue fishing hat.
In John's Bay, by ruins of the revolutionary war fort, remember you?
Hunched in the fog, rowed you there, in your skiff of canvas and oil.
Toward us you skulled from the Lite Breeze.
Your boat beats on against the current.
But even now, see your face.
With your round yoda eyes, and whisps of hair on a
greenless canvas of a...
In many paintings of love created you, in oils, yes.
One self portrait, catches the eye, it does.
One of you in the row boat with your blue fishing hat.
In John's Bay, by ruins of the revolutionary war fort, remember you?
Hunched in the fog, rowed you there, in your skiff of canvas and oil.
Toward us you skulled from the Lite Breeze.
Your boat beats on against the current.
But even now, see your face.
With your round yoda eyes, and whisps of hair on a
greenless canvas of a...
596 reads
0 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
19th Jan 2016 3:16pm
19th Jan 2016 3:16pm
Silence
In my writing room silence
your voice whispers words
as the world is still moving,
still revolving. The clock arrested.
Face to face I see you as
Silence falls.
I close my eyes, and pause as stiff,
and as still as the cimmerian shade I sit in.
broken
only by the moon-glow
of a computer screen.
Images of you floating like clouds
in the night sky of my mind.
My, how swiftly they roll by.
My eyes open, startled -
startled by your form vivid.
I must write quickly, or lose the scent
of the...
your voice whispers words
as the world is still moving,
still revolving. The clock arrested.
Face to face I see you as
Silence falls.
I close my eyes, and pause as stiff,
and as still as the cimmerian shade I sit in.
broken
only by the moon-glow
of a computer screen.
Images of you floating like clouds
in the night sky of my mind.
My, how swiftly they roll by.
My eyes open, startled -
startled by your form vivid.
I must write quickly, or lose the scent
of the...
934 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
19th Jan 2016 2:04am
19th Jan 2016 2:04am
the door
Life as a door is a cross one
people pushing past as if you
are an obstacle, or an annoyance.
Black boots coated kick at me
scuffing angrily as they
splash mud on my mud splash.
These passers-by leave their marks
in many ways on this portal.
Their dents enraged by
sole upon soul.
So the walk on by me, and push
on in their haste to
get where they are going.
Vanilla milkshake spills, and
dog spittle smears on my skin
dry into the scabby etch-o-sketch
of my existence. My hinges ache
and creak, and stiffly release...
people pushing past as if you
are an obstacle, or an annoyance.
Black boots coated kick at me
scuffing angrily as they
splash mud on my mud splash.
These passers-by leave their marks
in many ways on this portal.
Their dents enraged by
sole upon soul.
So the walk on by me, and push
on in their haste to
get where they are going.
Vanilla milkshake spills, and
dog spittle smears on my skin
dry into the scabby etch-o-sketch
of my existence. My hinges ache
and creak, and stiffly release...
597 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
19th Jan 2016 2:02am
19th Jan 2016 2:02am
The sound of sand
The sound of sand is a whisper when moved by the foamy brine
Silica and salt, how they miss one another.
So they must whisper their love is soft tracings,
lest Neptune hears, wreaking havoc.
Quietly she rolls onto him, into him, through him.
Meshing in the starlight of the night;
the silent sound of their happiness softly
tickling the ears of those sleeping.
The delicate, and reticent mix in
the undertow of passion, now deferred.
The wave rolls back into the sea;
she reaches for the shore once more
The sand longs...
Silica and salt, how they miss one another.
So they must whisper their love is soft tracings,
lest Neptune hears, wreaking havoc.
Quietly she rolls onto him, into him, through him.
Meshing in the starlight of the night;
the silent sound of their happiness softly
tickling the ears of those sleeping.
The delicate, and reticent mix in
the undertow of passion, now deferred.
The wave rolls back into the sea;
she reaches for the shore once more
The sand longs...
643 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Jan 2016 7:42pm
17th Jan 2016 7:42pm
Garden of Dictatorship
Forcing bulbs is no easy feat
because bulbs can never be spaded open.
But you found the way,
the way of the trowel
too hard to resist under your
broad bonnet, and flowered gloves,
those hands calloused and bruised.
In the garden of your dictatorship
you dominate the flower tender,
forcing the bulb to do your will
when it could bloom as well without you.
When all that is needed is, not the
shade of your inadequacies, but
the sunlight of acceptance.
Limpid pools of tears wet his roots.
And the fertilizer of your anger...
because bulbs can never be spaded open.
But you found the way,
the way of the trowel
too hard to resist under your
broad bonnet, and flowered gloves,
those hands calloused and bruised.
In the garden of your dictatorship
you dominate the flower tender,
forcing the bulb to do your will
when it could bloom as well without you.
When all that is needed is, not the
shade of your inadequacies, but
the sunlight of acceptance.
Limpid pools of tears wet his roots.
And the fertilizer of your anger...
709 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
31st Dec 2015 7:31am
31st Dec 2015 7:31am
Uvula Temple
Uvula Temple
I liked the wild wink of
Girly Mamba dancers,
With pursed suede lips
calling to pimple faced boys
in their insouciance.
We would coagulate
Near the uvula temple,
With a tacky flask
Of bathtub gin
that would purse any Hibachi.
Needing to rest my patella
in a windowsill bathtub,
I crawled through yards
Of sacred fabric, only to find
Intraocular boots planted.
I liked the wild wink of
Girly Mamba dancers,
With pursed suede lips
calling to pimple faced boys
in their insouciance.
We would coagulate
Near the uvula temple,
With a tacky flask
Of bathtub gin
that would purse any Hibachi.
Needing to rest my patella
in a windowsill bathtub,
I crawled through yards
Of sacred fabric, only to find
Intraocular boots planted.
885 reads
6 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
24th Dec 2015 2:15am
24th Dec 2015 2:15am
Simple as Honey
Simple as honey and
sweeter still are your words
on the taste buds of my heart.
Citrus hints of orange blossoms
fragrant my nights as I
sit in the dim light
of the touch-lamp
on my baby- back piano.
Golden smoke fills my scotch glass
as thoughts of your tidings flicker away
like so many candles casting
shadows on the walls of my mind.
A sip of single malt slips down my throat.
My eyes close, and there you are,
slipping down onto me.
Intoxicating me with handcuffed pleasantries
and the kiss of one blindfolded, the...
sweeter still are your words
on the taste buds of my heart.
Citrus hints of orange blossoms
fragrant my nights as I
sit in the dim light
of the touch-lamp
on my baby- back piano.
Golden smoke fills my scotch glass
as thoughts of your tidings flicker away
like so many candles casting
shadows on the walls of my mind.
A sip of single malt slips down my throat.
My eyes close, and there you are,
slipping down onto me.
Intoxicating me with handcuffed pleasantries
and the kiss of one blindfolded, the...
922 reads
5 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
16th Dec 2015 11:33pm
16th Dec 2015 11:33pm
Good night
good night, my candle.
good night, my whisper.
good night, my soul keeper.
sweet dreams to you ,
for your tender mercies
are upon your pillow,
and the desires of your heart
are released in the shades of the night.
good night, my lover.
good night, my rescuer.
good night, my queen.
Sultry midnight mind-walks to you
where we can dance among the
lilies of our passions,
and the orchids of our love
Don't fear drowning.
good night, my whisper.
good night, my soul keeper.
sweet dreams to you ,
for your tender mercies
are upon your pillow,
and the desires of your heart
are released in the shades of the night.
good night, my lover.
good night, my rescuer.
good night, my queen.
Sultry midnight mind-walks to you
where we can dance among the
lilies of our passions,
and the orchids of our love
Don't fear drowning.
1548 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Dec 2015 00:23am
13th Dec 2015 00:23am
stop sign
A Red sentinel standing
On the corner
Of spruce and time
Observing many I
.
See Caesars;
Carpe diem choices that
Cheat fate and tempt death
With zugzwang moves.
.
Living their lives like
Someone left the gate open,
Out and about they bound
Four paws to the wind.
.
One, too
Busy to notice
My single syllable;
Till the Semi
.
Took exception of your
Lack of attention
In metallic ways
as you texted 'hi'.
.
Busted engine blocks,
And broken bones,
And bouncing tires,
And tears at...
On the corner
Of spruce and time
Observing many I
.
See Caesars;
Carpe diem choices that
Cheat fate and tempt death
With zugzwang moves.
.
Living their lives like
Someone left the gate open,
Out and about they bound
Four paws to the wind.
.
One, too
Busy to notice
My single syllable;
Till the Semi
.
Took exception of your
Lack of attention
In metallic ways
as you texted 'hi'.
.
Busted engine blocks,
And broken bones,
And bouncing tires,
And tears at...
614 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
13th Dec 2015 00:23am
13th Dec 2015 00:23am
You are what I Deserve
You Are What I Deserve
In your last letter you said to me:
“you, my dear, dear ed, are deserving of only the best the world has to offer .”
Here is the best the world has to offer, and why I deserve it:
If we are to measure Happiness by the effect on a person, then you are what I deserve. For you have brought untold happiness into my life. You have given this happiness without reservation, free of charge. This happiness has filled my soul to the point of overflowing. It is to the point where I am flying high all the time. It is not a drivel teen-age...
In your last letter you said to me:
“you, my dear, dear ed, are deserving of only the best the world has to offer .”
Here is the best the world has to offer, and why I deserve it:
If we are to measure Happiness by the effect on a person, then you are what I deserve. For you have brought untold happiness into my life. You have given this happiness without reservation, free of charge. This happiness has filled my soul to the point of overflowing. It is to the point where I am flying high all the time. It is not a drivel teen-age...
876 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
11th Dec 2015 1:00am
11th Dec 2015 1:00am
Love short man
Let me tell you a short story
about a love short man
who smiled as a boy;
grinned as an adolescent;
laughed as an adult.
The boy smiled
as matchstick fingers burned
as gifts of life's lessons;
each day passing as a steamy
hiss of sadness emanating
where molten metal met watery truth
casting upturned lips in
shades of oxidation.
The adolescent grinned
as he dodged the picture-book images
moving at him from
light to dark to light to dark.
The pain bursting the flickering
light bulbs of his imagination, ...
about a love short man
who smiled as a boy;
grinned as an adolescent;
laughed as an adult.
The boy smiled
as matchstick fingers burned
as gifts of life's lessons;
each day passing as a steamy
hiss of sadness emanating
where molten metal met watery truth
casting upturned lips in
shades of oxidation.
The adolescent grinned
as he dodged the picture-book images
moving at him from
light to dark to light to dark.
The pain bursting the flickering
light bulbs of his imagination, ...
542 reads
0 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
11th Dec 2015 00:53am
11th Dec 2015 00:53am
Riptide
The sound of sand is a whisper when moved by the foamy brine
Silica and salt, how they miss one another.
So they must whisper their love is soft tracings,
lest Neptune hears, wreaking havoc.
Quietly she rolls onto him, into him, through him.
Meshing in the starlight of the night;
the silent sound of their happiness softly
tickling the ears of those sleeping.
The delicate, and reticent mix in
the undertow of passion, now deferred.
The wave rolls back into the sea;
she reaches for the shore once more
The sand longs...
Silica and salt, how they miss one another.
So they must whisper their love is soft tracings,
lest Neptune hears, wreaking havoc.
Quietly she rolls onto him, into him, through him.
Meshing in the starlight of the night;
the silent sound of their happiness softly
tickling the ears of those sleeping.
The delicate, and reticent mix in
the undertow of passion, now deferred.
The wave rolls back into the sea;
she reaches for the shore once more
The sand longs...
689 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Handcuffs (et al)
