Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
💚
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Jan 2011 12:44pm
11th Jan 2011 12:44pm
Desert (Three-Word Entry)
Desert.
An embrace, cold as the ice of my heart, of the weed and crack and crystal beauty.
An emptiness, the steel, hard machinery of death, holds me like clockwork.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick,
tick...
The droning of my last breath, my last vision of his skeleton hand and smoke-black hood.
A halo found so fallen it hits the bottom rim of his robe
like a resisting goodbye in the night.
I am the sully of your conquests, your victory, my wound-keeper.
Whisper, two, three, little secrets of youth in your ear and pray, due to that fill of trivial...
An embrace, cold as the ice of my heart, of the weed and crack and crystal beauty.
An emptiness, the steel, hard machinery of death, holds me like clockwork.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick,
tick...
The droning of my last breath, my last vision of his skeleton hand and smoke-black hood.
A halo found so fallen it hits the bottom rim of his robe
like a resisting goodbye in the night.
I am the sully of your conquests, your victory, my wound-keeper.
Whisper, two, three, little secrets of youth in your ear and pray, due to that fill of trivial...
899 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
10th Jan 2011 11:37pm
10th Jan 2011 11:37pm
My train.
A night, alone,
numb, under the hazy light of what feels like sun,
waiting for something,
anything to change this empty feeling,
can't even see the words you're writing,
smoking, on something long and white just to numb the pain,
a secret insanity.
Your fingertips are losing grip again,
the edges of reality, memory and complete fakery fading together on this carpet that looks like a pebbled shore.
'I just want to feel something.'
It's whisper, underneath the gushing cresendo of rushing water.
Still blurred is the vision of a lost gypsy's eyes....
numb, under the hazy light of what feels like sun,
waiting for something,
anything to change this empty feeling,
can't even see the words you're writing,
smoking, on something long and white just to numb the pain,
a secret insanity.
Your fingertips are losing grip again,
the edges of reality, memory and complete fakery fading together on this carpet that looks like a pebbled shore.
'I just want to feel something.'
It's whisper, underneath the gushing cresendo of rushing water.
Still blurred is the vision of a lost gypsy's eyes....
873 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Jan 2011 7:17pm
10th Jan 2011 7:17pm
Was Mona Lisa...
Was Mona Lisa a harlot?
Red splatters along the lines of my palm,
rub it away with my pale thumb.
A shiver of cold takes the breath of one hundred children,
echoing in the shapeless home of conception.
How did the tiny, unfigured ball form?
In its quiet home of pink walls and blood and water,
a mid-wife to the bastards of the modern day,
a rug of wool to warm his youthful breast.
We know not what we do.
We know not the oath we make to the electric system of illegal substance.
What is this law we crack anyway?
Where are the stars that fell...
Red splatters along the lines of my palm,
rub it away with my pale thumb.
A shiver of cold takes the breath of one hundred children,
echoing in the shapeless home of conception.
How did the tiny, unfigured ball form?
In its quiet home of pink walls and blood and water,
a mid-wife to the bastards of the modern day,
a rug of wool to warm his youthful breast.
We know not what we do.
We know not the oath we make to the electric system of illegal substance.
What is this law we crack anyway?
Where are the stars that fell...
895 reads
2 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
8th Jan 2011 9:47pm
8th Jan 2011 9:47pm
Time Machine
Time Machine
Unlatch the door,
I am shocked by the noise.
I'mnot scared yet.
It was only hide and seek.
Oneslip ofhis hand,
a drop ofmy strap.
I am whistling, through my teeth,
through the gaps in your hands.
But we were only playing hide and seek.
It's cold, they're unvoluntarily hard.
I'm kicking, my legs are too short to touch the ground.
I'm terrified now.
I try to bite the palm of your hand, thegushing blood would suffice.
You're strong.
Ascream, beneath the mufflingof your paleskin.
You haveflaccid, dark brown...
Unlatch the door,
I am shocked by the noise.
I'mnot scared yet.
It was only hide and seek.
Oneslip ofhis hand,
a drop ofmy strap.
I am whistling, through my teeth,
through the gaps in your hands.
But we were only playing hide and seek.
It's cold, they're unvoluntarily hard.
I'm kicking, my legs are too short to touch the ground.
I'm terrified now.
I try to bite the palm of your hand, thegushing blood would suffice.
You're strong.
Ascream, beneath the mufflingof your paleskin.
You haveflaccid, dark brown...
1156 reads
0 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
8th Jan 2011 12:12pm
8th Jan 2011 12:12pm
When did we meet?
It's hopeless, to even whisper, without swallowing whole,
the distaste that I feel for you.
It's like drinking melted plastic, eating cold, red meat,
it makes me sick how fast you change.
There seems in a onceblooming, brilliant mind,
is now a personality molded byanother, also changing, being.
With so much pressure comes too much stress,
to keep up with a speeding bullet,
personal opinion.
What is your opinion anymore?
I'm just going to ignore you,
who were you anyway?
I can't start this year, this way,
fighting over a friend is just too...
the distaste that I feel for you.
It's like drinking melted plastic, eating cold, red meat,
it makes me sick how fast you change.
There seems in a onceblooming, brilliant mind,
is now a personality molded byanother, also changing, being.
With so much pressure comes too much stress,
to keep up with a speeding bullet,
personal opinion.
What is your opinion anymore?
I'm just going to ignore you,
who were you anyway?
I can't start this year, this way,
fighting over a friend is just too...
942 reads
4 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
6th Jan 2011 2:26pm
6th Jan 2011 2:26pm
The butchery of Penumbra
She broods, from her rocking chair.
She's a comely, becoming, dissembling waif.
She holds her denouement in such eloquence.
Yes, fetching Penumbra, speaks in riddles,
ole speech has slipped new age's mind.
She's the scintilla, the talisman of Shakespearian years.
In hours, months, weeks or days the epiphany will hit the masses;
like an effervescent secret, a chinese whisper.
It could change from ear to deaf ear, tintinnabulation, loud and clear.
The children will skedaddle, back into the house,
for some nincompoop will whisper of her witchery....
She's a comely, becoming, dissembling waif.
She holds her denouement in such eloquence.
Yes, fetching Penumbra, speaks in riddles,
ole speech has slipped new age's mind.
She's the scintilla, the talisman of Shakespearian years.
In hours, months, weeks or days the epiphany will hit the masses;
like an effervescent secret, a chinese whisper.
It could change from ear to deaf ear, tintinnabulation, loud and clear.
The children will skedaddle, back into the house,
for some nincompoop will whisper of her witchery....
836 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
6th Jan 2011 1:58pm
6th Jan 2011 1:58pm
Bedding ghosts.
I have a beautiful perfection,
of imperfection,
of studied insanity,
of over-analysed plans
and when the beauty falls away,
when the perfection has no reason to stay,
I will be left sitting alone,
perfectly content,
with the friends in my head.
Beauty is filagree,
only a perception of my nightmare embraced bride,
she watches the killing from his slaughtering teeth,
blood and bones on the blessed church floor,
have you ever seen such red?
But it's okay,
when the nightmare's gone,
when the bride is alone,
she'll be...
of imperfection,
of studied insanity,
of over-analysed plans
and when the beauty falls away,
when the perfection has no reason to stay,
I will be left sitting alone,
perfectly content,
with the friends in my head.
Beauty is filagree,
only a perception of my nightmare embraced bride,
she watches the killing from his slaughtering teeth,
blood and bones on the blessed church floor,
have you ever seen such red?
But it's okay,
when the nightmare's gone,
when the bride is alone,
she'll be...
870 reads
3 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
4th Jan 2011 3:29pm
4th Jan 2011 3:29pm
The Purse.
He found her, two feet in the air,
head in the bargain bucket back row.
Those soft, hazel eyes,
a cupids bow for lips,
she didn't notice.
Dismissing his attentions,
she took her new, well second-hand, yellow scarf to the till,
no man should tag along behind.
She stared at him, with her watery green eyes,
they occasionally became blue.
'Do you intend to annoy me?
Is it your intention to be a fly?'
Quite offended by the comment the man attempted to speak,
hands trembling,
teeth chattering,
it was his first attempt at anything like...
head in the bargain bucket back row.
Those soft, hazel eyes,
a cupids bow for lips,
she didn't notice.
Dismissing his attentions,
she took her new, well second-hand, yellow scarf to the till,
no man should tag along behind.
She stared at him, with her watery green eyes,
they occasionally became blue.
'Do you intend to annoy me?
Is it your intention to be a fly?'
Quite offended by the comment the man attempted to speak,
hands trembling,
teeth chattering,
it was his first attempt at anything like...
938 reads
2 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
3rd Jan 2011 1:59am
3rd Jan 2011 1:59am
Let it slide.
What's up with the words she's spilling?
Just like the pills she's popping,
I'm not going to butter this up.
I don't want to.
Personal opinion, right to free speech.
You can all be swept up in a rosy cloud of smoke,
me? I'd rather choke - on the facts.
None of them are going to believe it though,
these words come from one who knows,
wanting, throw two-hundred at a problem,
three homes, three packets of blood,
Mud, fast, you got the lot,
but let me buy you a drink,
fill it with arsenic,
watch you fall,
I'm not fruiting,
no...
Just like the pills she's popping,
I'm not going to butter this up.
I don't want to.
Personal opinion, right to free speech.
You can all be swept up in a rosy cloud of smoke,
me? I'd rather choke - on the facts.
None of them are going to believe it though,
these words come from one who knows,
wanting, throw two-hundred at a problem,
three homes, three packets of blood,
Mud, fast, you got the lot,
but let me buy you a drink,
fill it with arsenic,
watch you fall,
I'm not fruiting,
no...
949 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
31st Dec 2010 12:07pm
31st Dec 2010 12:07pm
A silly cough.
He scratches on her vocal chords, an itchy throat,
tempting the mucus to come out her slender mouth,
water filling those green buckets for eyes,
it's a daily occurance.
She lifts her head to gasp for air,
and turns away from the noise in the house,
tight little fists only loosen when it's time to cough,
for the vomit she keeps to herself.
It stirs in her stomach, chunks of chocolate and Subway,
and her toes curls in to hold it all together,
but the worst kind of vomit,
whenever she hears that name.
Is the word vomit he causes,...
tempting the mucus to come out her slender mouth,
water filling those green buckets for eyes,
it's a daily occurance.
She lifts her head to gasp for air,
and turns away from the noise in the house,
tight little fists only loosen when it's time to cough,
for the vomit she keeps to herself.
It stirs in her stomach, chunks of chocolate and Subway,
and her toes curls in to hold it all together,
but the worst kind of vomit,
whenever she hears that name.
Is the word vomit he causes,...
903 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Dec 2010 9:34pm
30th Dec 2010 9:34pm
My mum and I sometimes listen to piano.
You laughed at my terror,
stood at my peaceful side
and laughed at my deep rooted fear,
and I smiled,
asit unfurled from your innocent unknowing,
I smiled,
as it flew from your two clapping feet,
those that walked the cassette to my bedside tape player,
it's okay.
So many years have passed
but listening to the piano,
the way it challenges my little mind,
I could never be happier than hearing your reaction,
even ifit secretly hurts my memory,
it brightens every present thought I have.
So laugh mum, as that horrid bar reaches my...
stood at my peaceful side
and laughed at my deep rooted fear,
and I smiled,
asit unfurled from your innocent unknowing,
I smiled,
as it flew from your two clapping feet,
those that walked the cassette to my bedside tape player,
it's okay.
So many years have passed
but listening to the piano,
the way it challenges my little mind,
I could never be happier than hearing your reaction,
even ifit secretly hurts my memory,
it brightens every present thought I have.
So laugh mum, as that horrid bar reaches my...
800 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
30th Dec 2010 2:29am
30th Dec 2010 2:29am
Database File.
A geisha to their inner circuits,
frankly, she should sleep,
no unethical war will take place,
on the jellyfish juice she left on the floor.
It's all so repulsive,
and it's how the mainframe works,
malicious, cold to the bone,
one flicked switch and it could be back to Solitaire again.
But it's not and all is silent on this side of the storyline,
for we do our duty as worriers, yes -those, not warriors,
I fear, that's never quite enough,
for some the cash, the love, the friends and family,
they'd cash it all in for a droplet in the...
frankly, she should sleep,
no unethical war will take place,
on the jellyfish juice she left on the floor.
It's all so repulsive,
and it's how the mainframe works,
malicious, cold to the bone,
one flicked switch and it could be back to Solitaire again.
But it's not and all is silent on this side of the storyline,
for we do our duty as worriers, yes -those, not warriors,
I fear, that's never quite enough,
for some the cash, the love, the friends and family,
they'd cash it all in for a droplet in the...
843 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
