Submissions by Inaya
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Observations from a Spiders Web
Here in the dark, where you have banished me to
Far away from your bright shiny lives
I swing from my spider web
In my dank moldy corner
That has become my existence
Hiding from the bigger blacker spiders
That squeal the feelings of hate, envy and jealousy
I don’t want to be like them
All consumed, in the dark alone
Gazing at you with longing love and fear
One last time
Reach out to you
You smile, loving me, grasping your little spider
Bringing me into your light
I wake up, alone in the dark
And I begin to squeal….
Far away from your bright shiny lives
I swing from my spider web
In my dank moldy corner
That has become my existence
Hiding from the bigger blacker spiders
That squeal the feelings of hate, envy and jealousy
I don’t want to be like them
All consumed, in the dark alone
Gazing at you with longing love and fear
One last time
Reach out to you
You smile, loving me, grasping your little spider
Bringing me into your light
I wake up, alone in the dark
And I begin to squeal….
596 reads
0 Comments
The Old Cowhands Story
The old man sits next to the campfire
Eyes always searching the darkness
The young cowpoke says to the old timer
It’s such a beautiful moonless night
But tell me old man why each noise seems to fill you with fright
The old man seems to consider, while sucking on his chew
He finally, taking his time, says
“This curse has been mine for so long
But if this is your wish I can share it with you”.
The young man, all of 16 years,
Unsure of what he has just heard
Nervously laughs and says
“Sure old man go on ahead”.
As the fire...
Eyes always searching the darkness
The young cowpoke says to the old timer
It’s such a beautiful moonless night
But tell me old man why each noise seems to fill you with fright
The old man seems to consider, while sucking on his chew
He finally, taking his time, says
“This curse has been mine for so long
But if this is your wish I can share it with you”.
The young man, all of 16 years,
Unsure of what he has just heard
Nervously laughs and says
“Sure old man go on ahead”.
As the fire...
739 reads
2 Comments
Milk Carton
Have You Seen Me?
Some days I feel like my picture should be on the back of the preverbal milk carton with the words in big black letters “Have You Seen Me?”
Not the me as I am now, but the me that could have been and in some ways should have been. The me before the demoralizing verbal attacks from my father, before the car accident and the me before the string of men who never really loved me but readily took what was freely given and the self destructive behavior sought in the comfort of cutting men and narcotics.
Me, the child in pig tails, scraped knees, the...
Some days I feel like my picture should be on the back of the preverbal milk carton with the words in big black letters “Have You Seen Me?”
Not the me as I am now, but the me that could have been and in some ways should have been. The me before the demoralizing verbal attacks from my father, before the car accident and the me before the string of men who never really loved me but readily took what was freely given and the self destructive behavior sought in the comfort of cutting men and narcotics.
Me, the child in pig tails, scraped knees, the...
804 reads
2 Comments
The Personal Space Invader
She’s here again
Just like I knew she would be
Standing right behind me, stuck to me like glue
Always standing there watching everything I do
I’ve explained and demonstrated
My very large personal bubble
But here she stands so close
I can see her chin and her light beard stubble
Always standing so close
Inside my personal realm
Like a jack booted pirate
Always wanting to touch my helm
Again and again the bubble she does not respect
Again and again I wish for her to go away
But in the end
I know what to expect
...
Just like I knew she would be
Standing right behind me, stuck to me like glue
Always standing there watching everything I do
I’ve explained and demonstrated
My very large personal bubble
But here she stands so close
I can see her chin and her light beard stubble
Always standing so close
Inside my personal realm
Like a jack booted pirate
Always wanting to touch my helm
Again and again the bubble she does not respect
Again and again I wish for her to go away
But in the end
I know what to expect
...
687 reads
2 Comments
The Hunchback of Kmart
The Hunchback of Kmart
****childish yet again…can’t seem to stop myself lol****
I walk so hunched over
My knuckles drag on the ground
If something is placed on the top shelf
It may never be found
I shit and I shake
I shake and I shit
What few friends I have left say
“That’s it I’m done I’ve had enough of it!”
I talk and I Lie
I lie and I talk
I love being at work
It gives me plenty of time to stalk
I had a man from the land of the dead
His eyes were so very creepy
He always looked like
He needed to...
****childish yet again…can’t seem to stop myself lol****
I walk so hunched over
My knuckles drag on the ground
If something is placed on the top shelf
It may never be found
I shit and I shake
I shake and I shit
What few friends I have left say
“That’s it I’m done I’ve had enough of it!”
I talk and I Lie
I lie and I talk
I love being at work
It gives me plenty of time to stalk
I had a man from the land of the dead
His eyes were so very creepy
He always looked like
He needed to...
784 reads
1 Comment
The Clearing
Thin gray clouds stand witness with the bloated full moon hanging low in the wintery sky,
On a being in the forest clearing changing bleeding and begging to die.
It is always the same, every month as the moon hangs in the sky ripe as the rotted fruit on the vine
He feels the pull the pain the carnage in his mind’s eye.
The forest once so beautiful and full of peace, now is no more only a place to enjoy
The death and evil that he reaps
As the animal within becomes the animal without he smells the air and wrinkles
His horrible snout.
...
On a being in the forest clearing changing bleeding and begging to die.
It is always the same, every month as the moon hangs in the sky ripe as the rotted fruit on the vine
He feels the pull the pain the carnage in his mind’s eye.
The forest once so beautiful and full of peace, now is no more only a place to enjoy
The death and evil that he reaps
As the animal within becomes the animal without he smells the air and wrinkles
His horrible snout.
...
765 reads
0 Comments
02/2013
February 2013
I exhale watching my breath forming complex but beautiful icy patterns on the inside of the rolled up car window. I’m shivering from the cold and also from the anticipation of what’s about to happen.
Sitting in the car that cold February morning building the courage to enter the holy brick building that seems to loom a thousand feet above me, looking at everything and nothing all at the same time.
A silent strong hand reaches over to me from the driver’s seat of the explorer, that touch says everything without its owner...
I exhale watching my breath forming complex but beautiful icy patterns on the inside of the rolled up car window. I’m shivering from the cold and also from the anticipation of what’s about to happen.
Sitting in the car that cold February morning building the courage to enter the holy brick building that seems to loom a thousand feet above me, looking at everything and nothing all at the same time.
A silent strong hand reaches over to me from the driver’s seat of the explorer, that touch says everything without its owner...
893 reads
4 Comments
Untitled
Untitled
I’m tired, so tired
I’m tired of having to fake that I’m OK
To spare anyone having to actually acknowledge my grief.
I’m tired of the tears, hiding them and shedding them.
I’m tired, so tired of wanting my family around me, of wanting to grieve with them, when in reality I have to skulk around the borders of their highly built walls that only they can seek refuge in while they abandon me to my solitary grief.
I’m tired of not understanding why I always have to deal with things alone.
I’m tired, so tired of god always taking the...
I’m tired, so tired
I’m tired of having to fake that I’m OK
To spare anyone having to actually acknowledge my grief.
I’m tired of the tears, hiding them and shedding them.
I’m tired, so tired of wanting my family around me, of wanting to grieve with them, when in reality I have to skulk around the borders of their highly built walls that only they can seek refuge in while they abandon me to my solitary grief.
I’m tired of not understanding why I always have to deal with things alone.
I’m tired, so tired of god always taking the...
818 reads
2 Comments
Aways and Ever the Same
Always and Ever the Same
My Father: I remember the deep deep love he had for me his 1st born, I remember him making me feel so wanted and loved….
I also remember:
“There you go always thinking of yourself”
“You’re selfish”
“Every word out of your mouth is a lie”
“Why can’t you be more like your sister”?
Now since his death I ache to hear even the verbal abuse just to hear his voice again.
My Mother: I remember how she would always show her love for me always on my side or I guess protector from the world and my father’s verbal attacks and the “I love...
My Father: I remember the deep deep love he had for me his 1st born, I remember him making me feel so wanted and loved….
I also remember:
“There you go always thinking of yourself”
“You’re selfish”
“Every word out of your mouth is a lie”
“Why can’t you be more like your sister”?
Now since his death I ache to hear even the verbal abuse just to hear his voice again.
My Mother: I remember how she would always show her love for me always on my side or I guess protector from the world and my father’s verbal attacks and the “I love...
685 reads
2 Comments
The Dark Man
When the dark man comes
What do you do?
Do you cry and run
Or do you embrace him
As a long lost friend.
A friend who’s voice whispers
About grisly ends
And the stones in ones soul
That every man tends
Do you weep with joy
When his voice sings
Of dark cold damp places
And evil bloody things
Do you cry in pain
When the song ends
And pray to whatever is listening
To bring him back again
Do you smile a secret smile
When you hear his death clock
Tick tick tick
And lower the blade
As you watch...
What do you do?
Do you cry and run
Or do you embrace him
As a long lost friend.
A friend who’s voice whispers
About grisly ends
And the stones in ones soul
That every man tends
Do you weep with joy
When his voice sings
Of dark cold damp places
And evil bloody things
Do you cry in pain
When the song ends
And pray to whatever is listening
To bring him back again
Do you smile a secret smile
When you hear his death clock
Tick tick tick
And lower the blade
As you watch...
844 reads
4 Comments
The Chemo Diaries
1st entry 5 November 2012
First I want to say that I understand that hindsight is 20/20 and yes the outcome may have been the same, but thanks to the inept Dr’s in a town that I won’t mention, we will never know.
Second Yes I understand the stages of grief and yes I’m stuck in the anger phase, I’m doing the best I can to move on and who knows...maybe these rants will help me do that.
Third I am not naive enough to think my parents are going to live forever, although I truly wish they would, I guess it’s the manner of death that may take my father that I find so...
First I want to say that I understand that hindsight is 20/20 and yes the outcome may have been the same, but thanks to the inept Dr’s in a town that I won’t mention, we will never know.
Second Yes I understand the stages of grief and yes I’m stuck in the anger phase, I’m doing the best I can to move on and who knows...maybe these rants will help me do that.
Third I am not naive enough to think my parents are going to live forever, although I truly wish they would, I guess it’s the manner of death that may take my father that I find so...
774 reads
0 Comments
The Prophet
Sitting in the basement after hearing the news
Shaking fingers wrapped around a cigarette
The answer to the question was cancer
Sitting crying and smoking with my tony
I hear a knock on the door and I’m thinking
Now really, I don’t think I can handle much more
Into the house he comes
And down the stairs he marches
The prophet as I call him in all of his disheveled madness
Tony tries to tell him nicely this just isn’t the time
He ignores this and asks what in heaven’s name
Could be wrong
Tony tells as I cannot that my dad has...
Shaking fingers wrapped around a cigarette
The answer to the question was cancer
Sitting crying and smoking with my tony
I hear a knock on the door and I’m thinking
Now really, I don’t think I can handle much more
Into the house he comes
And down the stairs he marches
The prophet as I call him in all of his disheveled madness
Tony tries to tell him nicely this just isn’t the time
He ignores this and asks what in heaven’s name
Could be wrong
Tony tells as I cannot that my dad has...
746 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Inaya