and spoken word
Find Out More
Submissions by Hepcat61 (geoff cat)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
los ojos no ven el pasado, pero van a revelarlo (the eyes don't see the past, but they will reveal it)
Comments (Most First)
Comments (Least First)
Reads (Most First)
Reads (Least First)
Reading List Entries
Length (Short Poems First)
Length (Long Poems First)
View As List
14th Jul 2019 4:52pm
As Rain Begins to Fall on Angel’s Reach – Sonnet Seventy-Three
13th Jul 2019 2:47pm
In Red and Blue on Rocks of Acton Dawn – Sonnet Seventy-Two
In red and blue on rocks of Acton dawn
The bloody splash, the skin in deathly shade.
The slash across the inner thigh brought on
A letting that no sand or rock betrayed.
The body dumped below the 14’s lights,
A wash off Escondido Canyon Rd.
The killer leaving nothing at the sight,
With head and hands removed so nothing showed.
“It’s not the first, I’ve seen this work before,
This fucker really has his method down.
He knows the ones that everyone ignores,
The hungry ones, the girls ‘just got to town.”
12th Jul 2019 4:00pm
In Dry Arroyo’s Scrub and Desert Night – Sonnet Seventy-One
In dry arroyo’s scrub and desert night,
That oceans kiss in blanket glowing fog.
The streams of raucous, high-speed gunning light,
The blurt and gush of LALA’s glut and clog.
You Angel Queen, you princess donned in hope,
Discovery by agent, not by cops,
In coffee shop and bar, not off-road slope,
Arroyo’s starlet cast as lifeless prop.
Oh sing! you Angel made, you glamoured train,
That pulled the night like Vegas’ girl raging.
That never slept but woke in crusty stains,
The measure of success in crust's gauging.
11th Jul 2019 4:27pm
The Pinkish Lick that Moves in Clefts Austere – Sonnet Seventy
The pinkish lick that moves in clefts austere,
And wakens cock to stretch its neck erect,
To raise its head, in open mouth appear,
That tongue that flicks the space where gift collects.
The morning’s rise that daily brings to life
The spread that soon reveals the valley whole.
Will bring the morning cock compelling’s rife
With instinct tipping mouth’s expel extol.
As slightest slit is graced with honey's hint,
The cock, in call that heaven waits to catch
Exclaims what nature thrills in cries emit,
And in its spread,...
#sun #morning #sonnet
10th Jul 2019 10:44pm
Let Warming Pink Embrace the Morning’s Rise - Sonnet Sixty-Nine
Let warming pink embrace the morning’s rise,
Encircle valley’s wash at mouth’s concourse,
That spreads the flowered meadow gates’ comprise,
Steadfastly in our wakened blush' enforce.
The valley’s rise in rills of tawny air
Like lightest touch of lover’s breath escape,
The ever-coming breeze of life aware
That morning harder finds in valley’s gape.
A pink that grows to deeper purple vale,
That rising’s heat in rising hope reveals,
The deeper purple lost in day’s prevails,
That harder pink the deeper vale...
#sex #morning #sonnet
9th Jul 2019 6:07am
What Silence Frames the Words of Time's Resolve – Sonnet Sixty-Eight
What silence frames the words of time's resolve
That stays the awkward thoughts of youth's remiss.
A light that shows in rose of years' absolve
The serpents of our mind’s deepest abyss.
The torturous inclines that left us bare,
Exposed, before we gained our life’s restraints.
Before the masks and covers, our despair
Obscured the view of loves we longed acquaint.
With lack of any hope of those we held
In high opinion, lofty height's review.
The hopes we cloaked in humored thoughts excelled,
The lines of laughter...
7th Jul 2019 3:58pm
When Once Upon a Time Once Held a Truth – Sonnet Sixty-Seven
When once upon a time once held a truth,
Where fairy stories killed the evil swains,
And shining knights took dragons’ heads, for sooth!
Where has-been kings don’t make us hate great again.
How many times must we stand by the boots
That march to subjugate the gypsy ranks?
Where only “good” from whitey, whitey roots,
Are worth spare change from whitey, whitey banks.
Republica, Republica, God sheds
Our lesser and their lessers blood for thee.
And let them rot, the camps in deserts spread
#anger #hate #politics #sonnet #rebellion
7th Jul 2019 3:12pm
To Clarify the Stations of the Night – Sonnet Sixty-Six
To clarify the stations of the night,
That speak in verbs, in quasi silver stars.
Where eagles seek in aeries’ craggy heights
The place sequestered from their bloodied bars.
The midnight fields that glow to blue, not black.
For black pursued will surely only find
That blue will level six into the back.
In black, the darker midnight blood defines.
How callous we, who now conserve the plots
Where eagles never soar and shine in black.
Their statues’ stand in shrouds for dead white blots
Who never stood to nature’s truth...
#hate #politics #death #sonnet #rebellion
5th Jul 2019 9:43pm
The Gentle Swish and Tickle of her Bangs – Sonnet Sixty-Five
The gentle swish and tickle of her bangs,
With every rock and flutter of her tongue,
That brush my dual held at base's lang,
With every tight-lipped pull and drawing rung.
With wetted other lips in quick withdraw,
That skate her seat to find in wayward roam,
The wetted rise, her lips caressed in awe,
Now driven hips will drive it risen home.
Her bending back to press upon my chest,
To guide left hand to breast, the right to feel
The moves of fingers weight, her drives possess,
The waiting nib that fingers' press reveals.
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
4th Jul 2019 2:52pm
As Creatures, We Do Not Amount to Much – Sonnet Sixty-Four
As creatures, we do not amount to much.
All others seem better equipped to be
The things they are without questioning such,
While we prevaricate with full conceit.
Oh, poets we, what stupid silly things,
We dance around the fates and facts with words
That we ridiculously tout and sling,
In hopes, confuse and yet are clearly heard.
We could just write a letter, clearly state
The premise that to those we would convey
Our deepest thoughts’ and deepest loves’ relate,
But then again what pleasure that purvey?
4th Jul 2019 1:57pm
In Curls of Suspect Breaths and Mandarins – Sonnet Sixty-Three
3rd Jul 2019 11:46pm
I Lived High Summer on Those Chaparrals – Sonnet Sixty-One
I lived high summer on those chaparrals,
With country music, beer, and leather work.
In downing sun of coy-otes’ casting spells
Of life less lived, the concrete stall berserks.
In Joshuas and prairie sage consoles,
Of hoofs that slowly pick their mountain sides,
The dust and scrub in lonely fence patrols,
Where purpose and my lonely God reside.
How far and near that other self still haunts,
That peopled place I never knew as home,
That land of stolen dreams and nonchalance,
That bled my soul to exile desert roam.
DU Poetry : Submissions by Hepcat61 (geoff cat)
Go to page:
Latest Forum Discussions
Ask The Person Below You A Question
Today 5:45pm by cold_fusion
Complete The Sentence
Today 5:45pm by MadameLavender
Today 5:16pm by Heaven_sent_Kathy
Today 2:50pm by AspergerPoet56
Official DU Podcast Thread
Today 2:42pm by ThePoetcastProject
The Reading List
Today 2:09pm by Miss_Sub
(- Missy -)
© 2009 - 2018 Deep Underground Poetry
Members Online: 23