Submissions by Istra
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I write because I want to filter all the chaos in my head, and get the truth of the experience out. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it's crap. But I keep trying.
LOVE POEM
Published
24th Nov 2011 7:15am
24th Nov 2011 7:15am
From Memory
Shoulders,
smooth, delicate and
finely-boned. They used to
peek out at me over the top of
that blue summer-dress.
They smelled like lilies.
They were always warm.
Arms,
thin and lithe, with
deceptive strength. They would
wrap around me in joy at the
time of meeting, and reluctant acceptance
upon farewells, and rapturous
indulgence in other, consensual times.
Hands,
like a pianist's.
Long fingers, well-manicured.
They were never still, and could
partake in some
interesting movements,...
smooth, delicate and
finely-boned. They used to
peek out at me over the top of
that blue summer-dress.
They smelled like lilies.
They were always warm.
Arms,
thin and lithe, with
deceptive strength. They would
wrap around me in joy at the
time of meeting, and reluctant acceptance
upon farewells, and rapturous
indulgence in other, consensual times.
Hands,
like a pianist's.
Long fingers, well-manicured.
They were never still, and could
partake in some
interesting movements,...
736 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
21st Nov 2011 2:48pm
21st Nov 2011 2:48pm
Stroking Sunlight
You keep
touching your hair.
Softly and self-consciously, and
only when you look away.
The sunset behind you is
making it glow and it looks
like you're stroking sunlight.
I wonder what it's like to
stroke the sunlight. Or any other
part of you.
Your eyes are
filled with doubt, and you seem
unaware of just how
beautiful you are. Your nervousness
betrays you; you know that
I want you. And you're afraid that
I'll do just what it is we both desire.
I want to pull you in further,
but I know you won't go.
Not yet.
I...
touching your hair.
Softly and self-consciously, and
only when you look away.
The sunset behind you is
making it glow and it looks
like you're stroking sunlight.
I wonder what it's like to
stroke the sunlight. Or any other
part of you.
Your eyes are
filled with doubt, and you seem
unaware of just how
beautiful you are. Your nervousness
betrays you; you know that
I want you. And you're afraid that
I'll do just what it is we both desire.
I want to pull you in further,
but I know you won't go.
Not yet.
I...
1458 reads
8 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
21st Nov 2011 6:08am
21st Nov 2011 6:08am
After December
I remember
Anticipating you.
I remember
A little thrill thinking of you
Thinking of me.
It's over.
The things I read into
The things you said into
me; they were
Silly. And over-thought.
And just a small and
Palm-held hope.
I remember
Thinking that you
Would rescue
Me.
And hoping that you
Would want to.
And now I sit
In the dark.
And crush the bones of my
Old wishes to
Dust.
It's over.
Anticipating you.
I remember
A little thrill thinking of you
Thinking of me.
It's over.
The things I read into
The things you said into
me; they were
Silly. And over-thought.
And just a small and
Palm-held hope.
I remember
Thinking that you
Would rescue
Me.
And hoping that you
Would want to.
And now I sit
In the dark.
And crush the bones of my
Old wishes to
Dust.
It's over.
699 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
19th Nov 2011 11:55pm
19th Nov 2011 11:55pm
The Factory
Happy little workers.
Assembly line workers.
Each puts their part on the machine
as it goes down
the line.
Everyone has a job to do.
Every job is important(all the screws must be screwed. All the seams soldered.)
Focused on their jobs, focused on their hands
(turn clockwise twice, hold trigger down 3.5 seconds).
Middle of the line,
Little worker.
Focused on the job, focused on her hands.
Frowning in her focus;
Frowning in her determination.
Frowning as she does(n't) cry because she does(n't) want to cry about
this again....
Assembly line workers.
Each puts their part on the machine
as it goes down
the line.
Everyone has a job to do.
Every job is important(all the screws must be screwed. All the seams soldered.)
Focused on their jobs, focused on their hands
(turn clockwise twice, hold trigger down 3.5 seconds).
Middle of the line,
Little worker.
Focused on the job, focused on her hands.
Frowning in her focus;
Frowning in her determination.
Frowning as she does(n't) cry because she does(n't) want to cry about
this again....
813 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Nov 2011 9:09pm
19th Nov 2011 9:09pm
In Memory of Sarah
A bird died today.
Is that a
bad sign?
It wasn't
old age.
Not sickness
or predators.
She died because
she wanted
her freedom.
She climbed and
looked and
discovered her
route and
when the time came
she tried.
But her cage
was treacherous
and sharp
and too quick
for a little bird.
The door came down
as she backed out of it.
And now her head
is in the corner
all alone.
Unfortunate.
But there are worse fates.
One could stay in
their cage
all their lives.
One could ...
Is that a
bad sign?
It wasn't
old age.
Not sickness
or predators.
She died because
she wanted
her freedom.
She climbed and
looked and
discovered her
route and
when the time came
she tried.
But her cage
was treacherous
and sharp
and too quick
for a little bird.
The door came down
as she backed out of it.
And now her head
is in the corner
all alone.
Unfortunate.
But there are worse fates.
One could stay in
their cage
all their lives.
One could ...
808 reads
7 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
18th Nov 2011 8:32pm
18th Nov 2011 8:32pm
Mind's Eye
What would I do to you,
Given a few moments alone?
Oh, don't think about it, don't bring it
to your mind.
Leave alone the touches, whispers,
Glances, breaths and sighs.
They won't bring you satisfaction from
your mind's eye.
I would run my hands down
Every hill and valley of you
Breathe so softly
on your neck and
Leave no imprint of my lips
No. The only part of you I'd kiss is your
Mind's eye, there you are again, with no
satisfaction, see? Let it go.
Oh, my pretty one, hear the soft rustle of your
skirt as it...
Given a few moments alone?
Oh, don't think about it, don't bring it
to your mind.
Leave alone the touches, whispers,
Glances, breaths and sighs.
They won't bring you satisfaction from
your mind's eye.
I would run my hands down
Every hill and valley of you
Breathe so softly
on your neck and
Leave no imprint of my lips
No. The only part of you I'd kiss is your
Mind's eye, there you are again, with no
satisfaction, see? Let it go.
Oh, my pretty one, hear the soft rustle of your
skirt as it...
1229 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
18th Nov 2011 6:55am
18th Nov 2011 6:55am
Panic After Repentance
Saw your name today.
Written on a scrap of paper.
Thought I could deal,
but I went up in flames.
My heart
stopped.
My head
pounded.
I thought I was going to be sick.
Pit of my stomach felt
dread and
(sorrow?)something else.
Maybe sorrow.
Probably guilt.
How long has it been now?
Not long enough, I guess.
My apologies were
given, but you don't need those.
You never did.
My sins against you were
sufficiently awful that no apologies would
ever
be needed.
You'll harbor my sins in your
heart for...
Written on a scrap of paper.
Thought I could deal,
but I went up in flames.
My heart
stopped.
My head
pounded.
I thought I was going to be sick.
Pit of my stomach felt
dread and
(sorrow?)something else.
Maybe sorrow.
Probably guilt.
How long has it been now?
Not long enough, I guess.
My apologies were
given, but you don't need those.
You never did.
My sins against you were
sufficiently awful that no apologies would
ever
be needed.
You'll harbor my sins in your
heart for...
751 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
16th Nov 2011 9:31pm
16th Nov 2011 9:31pm
To Be Truthful
Speak these words to me.
Tell me the things I long for,
the things that are in my secret soul.
Touch the part of me that is isolated, the part that is
alone unto itself.
Lust is not untrue, in the moments it makes itself known.
I once thought that I was a strong one.
Individual, of my own self.
You prove me wrong, you wrest my freedom from me.
I adore it
I curse it
Why must I ride these waves?
The turn of your head,
The sunlight on your hair, and I envision
the moonlight on your thighs.
Unnameable,
Unsought-after,...
Tell me the things I long for,
the things that are in my secret soul.
Touch the part of me that is isolated, the part that is
alone unto itself.
Lust is not untrue, in the moments it makes itself known.
I once thought that I was a strong one.
Individual, of my own self.
You prove me wrong, you wrest my freedom from me.
I adore it
I curse it
Why must I ride these waves?
The turn of your head,
The sunlight on your hair, and I envision
the moonlight on your thighs.
Unnameable,
Unsought-after,...
994 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
16th Nov 2011 6:22am
16th Nov 2011 6:22am
Looking for a Preacher
"You will never find the perfect one."
She tells me this as I turn away from the fireworks.
"No."
Perfection is exactly what I'm after.
Relentless, yes. And altogether
Unreasonable.
"Why are you so insistent?"
"Oh, I don't know."
But I do. There's a small, private glory in
Being right.
The easy way is to make
Somebody wrong.
Relentless, yes. And completely
Silly.
"Well, you'll never be happy if you have to judge like this."
My cigarette goes out and I
Think for a moment before...
She tells me this as I turn away from the fireworks.
"No."
Perfection is exactly what I'm after.
Relentless, yes. And altogether
Unreasonable.
"Why are you so insistent?"
"Oh, I don't know."
But I do. There's a small, private glory in
Being right.
The easy way is to make
Somebody wrong.
Relentless, yes. And completely
Silly.
"Well, you'll never be happy if you have to judge like this."
My cigarette goes out and I
Think for a moment before...
653 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Nov 2011 9:45am
15th Nov 2011 9:45am
Exploration
There are holes in my mind.
Deep and secret.
Nothing comes in or out of them.
Hours of my life are lost
Contemplating the flora and fauna within them.
Alien shells and skeletons
of thoughts long dead.
They do not stop occupying their space,
But gently decompose.
I'm not sure whether to mourn them or
Study them.
It's cold inside the holes of my mind.
And I wish for fire, for
Life.
Something honest and unadulterated;
A consuming mass of energy that will shake
my dead world.
Movement is slow,
Time is nothing,...
Deep and secret.
Nothing comes in or out of them.
Hours of my life are lost
Contemplating the flora and fauna within them.
Alien shells and skeletons
of thoughts long dead.
They do not stop occupying their space,
But gently decompose.
I'm not sure whether to mourn them or
Study them.
It's cold inside the holes of my mind.
And I wish for fire, for
Life.
Something honest and unadulterated;
A consuming mass of energy that will shake
my dead world.
Movement is slow,
Time is nothing,...
662 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Nov 2011 7:43am
15th Nov 2011 7:43am
Earth Mother
Deepen me.
Make me more than, more than.
I want to be your earth,
Carve out my valleys, plant forests in my soul.
Let the vapors eddy around my most sacred grotto,
And kiss me, kiss me where I am Glory.
Not your goddess, not your slave
(let me worship here, I will bend to drink from your most sublime stream)
You entrance me,
I pluck no flowers here, but I bring spring
(am I your sun? Your moon? Oh, no)
I am your earth again
Touch me where the light is silver.
Then nothing can touch me but you.
I am in need.
I am in want.
Deepen...
Make me more than, more than.
I want to be your earth,
Carve out my valleys, plant forests in my soul.
Let the vapors eddy around my most sacred grotto,
And kiss me, kiss me where I am Glory.
Not your goddess, not your slave
(let me worship here, I will bend to drink from your most sublime stream)
You entrance me,
I pluck no flowers here, but I bring spring
(am I your sun? Your moon? Oh, no)
I am your earth again
Touch me where the light is silver.
Then nothing can touch me but you.
I am in need.
I am in want.
Deepen...
630 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Istra
