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
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
5th Dec 2015 12:56pm
5th Dec 2015 12:56pm
Pebble in the Pond
Pebble thrown.
A watery mirror broken.
Rippling effects
swell
around the point of impact.
Liquid wrinkles
spread,
ever widening,
touching
shores
of uncharted land;
regarding reeds yet
unborn.
A watery mirror broken.
Rippling effects
swell
around the point of impact.
Liquid wrinkles
spread,
ever widening,
touching
shores
of uncharted land;
regarding reeds yet
unborn.
912 reads
6 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
5th Dec 2015 12:52pm
5th Dec 2015 12:52pm
Soul Whisperer
In the violet
of sleep
my water-boarded
soul
plunges,
struggles to breath.
Demented on
Xanax
Thrash, crash,
and burn...
Violet dreams turn to
dark in
Diminishing return.
In the violet
of sleep
I throw rocks
at the fucking Firestorm.
Convection of
Pyroclastic
flows feeding
the no-exit pain
oven of my lungs.
A wilting soul,
...
of sleep
my water-boarded
soul
plunges,
struggles to breath.
Demented on
Xanax
Thrash, crash,
and burn...
Violet dreams turn to
dark in
Diminishing return.
In the violet
of sleep
I throw rocks
at the fucking Firestorm.
Convection of
Pyroclastic
flows feeding
the no-exit pain
oven of my lungs.
A wilting soul,
...
889 reads
5 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
5th Dec 2015 00:00am
5th Dec 2015 00:00am
Moons of my Childhood
Moons of My Childhood
The blue moon of July will rise,
The first of it's kind in three years.
The first full moon of this month was
the fuzziest shade of orange I
had ever seen, and it was huge
as it sat on the tippy-top of
the pine silhouettes;
the halo surrounding it
in the mists of the high clouds.
.
It reminded me of the summer nights
when I was a boy in the
Blue Ridge mountains,
and the crickets, and the bull frogs would
duel each other in chorus.
The horse-hair carpet was scratchy on the feet,
as I shuffled...
The blue moon of July will rise,
The first of it's kind in three years.
The first full moon of this month was
the fuzziest shade of orange I
had ever seen, and it was huge
as it sat on the tippy-top of
the pine silhouettes;
the halo surrounding it
in the mists of the high clouds.
.
It reminded me of the summer nights
when I was a boy in the
Blue Ridge mountains,
and the crickets, and the bull frogs would
duel each other in chorus.
The horse-hair carpet was scratchy on the feet,
as I shuffled...
#childhood
#moon
#nature #memories
#nature #memories
664 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
4th Dec 2015 11:57pm
4th Dec 2015 11:57pm
Lines
Lines
The lines connecting her limbs
have become thread-bear a
She joins the rest of the meat-sticks
with their pear-shaped heads full of eye-holes,
and scare-crow hair covered in coal dust.
The long line snaking its way into the grinder.
The line moves a little...a little more.
She hides the blackberries of her husbands disapproval.
She hides them with cotton leaves of poverty.
Except for the ones on her neck, where he almost plucked her
as she fell against the wall with a rushing hiss.
The castanets of her belly clack away...
The lines connecting her limbs
have become thread-bear a
She joins the rest of the meat-sticks
with their pear-shaped heads full of eye-holes,
and scare-crow hair covered in coal dust.
The long line snaking its way into the grinder.
The line moves a little...a little more.
She hides the blackberries of her husbands disapproval.
She hides them with cotton leaves of poverty.
Except for the ones on her neck, where he almost plucked her
as she fell against the wall with a rushing hiss.
The castanets of her belly clack away...
759 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
4th Dec 2015 6:38am
4th Dec 2015 6:38am
Your words are the bed i rest on
Hovering in the twilight of the eyelid,
The sparkle of our conversation nestled in my mind
With your downy words. Each night you come
To me in this dreamscape, the warmth of every syllable
pulled up under my chin against the coolness of my night.
I feel the quilt of your soft syntax as I nestle my pride
in your pillow looking for comfort from a day's worth of
dealing with used teabag personalities who aren't worth a fuck.
What would I feel if I fell asleep on a bed of your voice?
Flushing tensions flowing away like the clothes I shed
when...
The sparkle of our conversation nestled in my mind
With your downy words. Each night you come
To me in this dreamscape, the warmth of every syllable
pulled up under my chin against the coolness of my night.
I feel the quilt of your soft syntax as I nestle my pride
in your pillow looking for comfort from a day's worth of
dealing with used teabag personalities who aren't worth a fuck.
What would I feel if I fell asleep on a bed of your voice?
Flushing tensions flowing away like the clothes I shed
when...
761 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
4th Dec 2015 6:36am
4th Dec 2015 6:36am
Obsidian Heart
I remember a time
when I was the sweet berry juice
You imbibed that overflowed
your lips onto your chin.
You were drunk
in love for me,
And ravenously
consume my essence.
A time when we would
enjoy one another
like bees among flowers,
Pollinating
A time before the 'we' became the 'you'
And 'I' became the afterbirth
of your still born love.
Had it occurred to you
to be more generous
Your feet would not
have become cut
From the eggshells
you were walking on.
So I became the chore ...
when I was the sweet berry juice
You imbibed that overflowed
your lips onto your chin.
You were drunk
in love for me,
And ravenously
consume my essence.
A time when we would
enjoy one another
like bees among flowers,
Pollinating
A time before the 'we' became the 'you'
And 'I' became the afterbirth
of your still born love.
Had it occurred to you
to be more generous
Your feet would not
have become cut
From the eggshells
you were walking on.
So I became the chore ...
709 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Handcuffs (et al)
