Submissions by Inkerpoet
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
God
If there be a God he is beneath my feet.
Inside of the many blades of soft grass
there is Him, wavering, like a bloomed
candle-flame upon a thread of cotton.
If there be a God, surely he has to be
inside of the burnt umber bark
of the tree.
Encased inside of a single drop of rain.
In the cloud that moves nearly without detection.
In the soil that fuels and feeds.
In the eyes of the womb-snatched child,
crying out God's pleas.
Inside of the many blades of soft grass
there is Him, wavering, like a bloomed
candle-flame upon a thread of cotton.
If there be a God, surely he has to be
inside of the burnt umber bark
of the tree.
Encased inside of a single drop of rain.
In the cloud that moves nearly without detection.
In the soil that fuels and feeds.
In the eyes of the womb-snatched child,
crying out God's pleas.
#God
#spiritual
208 reads
0 Comments
The Heart's First Rose
As the last light of day trickles from the sky;
the heart's first rose is never forgotten --
and like your smile is deeper than all seas.
Here, we will etch our names into the ancient pines.
I'll guess you for a star, however far.
Out of wandering night we will burn desire with a kiss,
like this,
I will hold your heart in mine,
and listen closely to the song of its rhyme.
You are the brightest beautiful,
the softest song which the rain sings on all my nights,
my morning light.
the heart's first rose is never forgotten --
and like your smile is deeper than all seas.
Here, we will etch our names into the ancient pines.
I'll guess you for a star, however far.
Out of wandering night we will burn desire with a kiss,
like this,
I will hold your heart in mine,
and listen closely to the song of its rhyme.
You are the brightest beautiful,
the softest song which the rain sings on all my nights,
my morning light.
#love
382 reads
2 Comments
The Continuation
That human spirit Is a sphere
A revolution about the jazz in the flesh
Twenty four hours
Three hundred and sixty five days
It's essence, unquiet, covets contentment
Caged and calculating liberation
The yoke of God is an arousing sustenance
In every quarter of my bones
In my mind I am hopeful
Discarding the parasites of fear
From my breath
An adopted rhythm, a thirsty and restless
Babe, calling to my psyche
A nocturnal animal of some kind, a twining
Chocolate vine,
Climbing and asking for...
A revolution about the jazz in the flesh
Twenty four hours
Three hundred and sixty five days
It's essence, unquiet, covets contentment
Caged and calculating liberation
The yoke of God is an arousing sustenance
In every quarter of my bones
In my mind I am hopeful
Discarding the parasites of fear
From my breath
An adopted rhythm, a thirsty and restless
Babe, calling to my psyche
A nocturnal animal of some kind, a twining
Chocolate vine,
Climbing and asking for...
#spiritual
#motivational
414 reads
0 Comments
Imagination
Possibility unfurls.
I mold wildflowers in my room.
The birds lie listening
in the lapping waters of my brain.
Forms of things
walk softly there and blossom,
refusing reason,
as though they were written
against the morning's edge.
I peel every light soul of them
into existence,
and time disappears.
I mold wildflowers in my room.
The birds lie listening
in the lapping waters of my brain.
Forms of things
walk softly there and blossom,
refusing reason,
as though they were written
against the morning's edge.
I peel every light soul of them
into existence,
and time disappears.
#dreams
795 reads
2 Comments
barhop
it was a bad day to decide
to become a bum on the street.
i stood downtown watching
the parade of madness,
and maybe they all wondered -
why was I there.
about 40 degrees it was, and
i had to piss so i rushed into a bar.
then i rushed into another bar
with very few people inside.
some low volume music
and tito's vodka that did me little
to no good.
so i'd gotten there too close to
closing and would have to fend
against the cold weather again
or find another bar.
...
to become a bum on the street.
i stood downtown watching
the parade of madness,
and maybe they all wondered -
why was I there.
about 40 degrees it was, and
i had to piss so i rushed into a bar.
then i rushed into another bar
with very few people inside.
some low volume music
and tito's vodka that did me little
to no good.
so i'd gotten there too close to
closing and would have to fend
against the cold weather again
or find another bar.
...
#loneliness
#LifeStruggles
#LifeAsAWriter
#LifeCycle
#SelfDiscovery
955 reads
4 Comments
a time will come
A time will come
when our faces will be sagging faces;
the world pollocked onto our retinas,
spines like bent straws,
our hacksaw minds
shot into oblivion
by the gods of time.
The burning bush of youth
now settling its flame.
when our faces will be sagging faces;
the world pollocked onto our retinas,
spines like bent straws,
our hacksaw minds
shot into oblivion
by the gods of time.
The burning bush of youth
now settling its flame.
#TruthOfLife
#LifeCycle
1139 reads
2 Comments
At Methodist for the heart X-ray
my mind is a torn and stunted page
out of the book of destruction.
I cannot tell left from right
down these narrow white halls --
mostly do to some crippling anxiety.
and the woman down at the desk
asks me what am I doing with my life.
yes what am I doing with my life?
yesterday my hair turned white.
yesterday the acv did not work.
yesterday I washed the dog.
yesterday I laughed in sober moments
and flicked a roach off of a glass window.
but I thought about
how different all things could've...
out of the book of destruction.
I cannot tell left from right
down these narrow white halls --
mostly do to some crippling anxiety.
and the woman down at the desk
asks me what am I doing with my life.
yes what am I doing with my life?
yesterday my hair turned white.
yesterday the acv did not work.
yesterday I washed the dog.
yesterday I laughed in sober moments
and flicked a roach off of a glass window.
but I thought about
how different all things could've...
#anxiety
#LifeStruggles
#myself
783 reads
4 Comments
you are much more than this
much more than this.
much more than the SILENCE
c
r
e
e
p
i
n
g
between the brain and the heart.
much more than this need
and not getting what is needed.
much more than longing for love,
then evading
its touch as it nears.
much more than fear.
you are much more
than dark and rain.
you are heart
and soul
and flame.
much more than the SILENCE
c
r
e
e
p
i
n
g
between the brain and the heart.
much more than this need
and not getting what is needed.
much more than longing for love,
then evading
its touch as it nears.
much more than fear.
you are much more
than dark and rain.
you are heart
and soul
and flame.
#LifeStruggles
1132 reads
2 Comments
untitled or (As My Shadow Walked Beside Me)
i'd lock away the darkness if i could,
but now i just take sharp turns
into the alleyway
where the cat has hung his corpse.
i'll hang mine there too and be done
for the worry of tomorrow.
sometimes
nothing makes sense in my world
and not even the tree
knows how to dance.
one last time
my step is loaded blues.
i let the shadows eat me.
i let a woman walk by
and i never looked.
she'll have another heart to break
or be broken by.
but now i just take sharp turns
into the alleyway
where the cat has hung his corpse.
i'll hang mine there too and be done
for the worry of tomorrow.
sometimes
nothing makes sense in my world
and not even the tree
knows how to dance.
one last time
my step is loaded blues.
i let the shadows eat me.
i let a woman walk by
and i never looked.
she'll have another heart to break
or be broken by.
#LifeStruggles
#confessional
#LifeAsAWriter #myself
#LifeAsAWriter #myself
1093 reads
5 Comments
a woman loves
Its haunting
How a woman
loves
And comes
With a song.
She loves
And leaves butterflies
in my brain.
When I sleep,
Or slip away into the dusk
For a walk,
Or sit on a bench
Watching
as the sun goes by --
I do it all
In my seemingly quiet.
But inside of my mind
The flowers;
As soft as her lips,
As deep as her eyes,
Are vibrant
And joyously
laughing.
How a woman
loves
And comes
With a song.
She loves
And leaves butterflies
in my brain.
When I sleep,
Or slip away into the dusk
For a walk,
Or sit on a bench
Watching
as the sun goes by --
I do it all
In my seemingly quiet.
But inside of my mind
The flowers;
As soft as her lips,
As deep as her eyes,
Are vibrant
And joyously
laughing.
#love
#women
#inspirational
1212 reads
7 Comments
of love and its brokenness
these broken people.
hinterland love affairs.
armed silhouettes
carved
into the shade of night.
and the bawls of love,
in warning of this love
which has no mercy.
hinterland love affairs.
armed silhouettes
carved
into the shade of night.
and the bawls of love,
in warning of this love
which has no mercy.
#love
#LifeStruggles
#humankind
825 reads
2 Comments
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