Submissions by JT-Lit
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
My interest lies in real world poetry, the kind that captures life with honesty, beauty, and grit.
LOVE POEM
Published
5th Feb 2016 9:56pm
5th Feb 2016 9:56pm
Secret Angel
She would come to me
in the absence of light
shortly before dawn.
Wearing only a night gown
her body swayed
gracefully against the gloom.
With the impatience of motion
and a swing to her hip
she’d straddle
this damaged form of mine.
An outstretched hand
to half startled lips
reminded me
not to arouse the others.
A captivating smile
and inviting thighs
to calm a troubled mind.
She moved like the ocean
rocking her body to the current
while reaching for the heart
of a lost...
in the absence of light
shortly before dawn.
Wearing only a night gown
her body swayed
gracefully against the gloom.
With the impatience of motion
and a swing to her hip
she’d straddle
this damaged form of mine.
An outstretched hand
to half startled lips
reminded me
not to arouse the others.
A captivating smile
and inviting thighs
to calm a troubled mind.
She moved like the ocean
rocking her body to the current
while reaching for the heart
of a lost...
598 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
5th Feb 2016 3:45pm
5th Feb 2016 3:45pm
Another Irony on Fire
Sometimes, you have to set aside broken things
and take flight. Words I speak more to myself
than anyone else. They resonate in depths
threatening to burst from my chest.
These words come not from the pipes that won't play
or behind the dreamer's gaze, but straight from the place
that often brings us here.
You spoke this language once. Head held to mine,
heart fluttering and yet afraid of all you stood to lose.
Indecision breeds poetry, so does misery and discontent.
Dreamers are born of the same recipe,
but eventually the...
and take flight. Words I speak more to myself
than anyone else. They resonate in depths
threatening to burst from my chest.
These words come not from the pipes that won't play
or behind the dreamer's gaze, but straight from the place
that often brings us here.
You spoke this language once. Head held to mine,
heart fluttering and yet afraid of all you stood to lose.
Indecision breeds poetry, so does misery and discontent.
Dreamers are born of the same recipe,
but eventually the...
689 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
27th Jan 2016 10:03pm
27th Jan 2016 10:03pm
Harvest Homes
She says, you can tell America
from the rest of the world
by the color of the wallpaper,
or lack thereof.
That southern hospitality
is a refreshing change
after so many years
in London.
She calls the stuffed animal
in her grasp, 'Dog'.
After all, it is a dog, she says.
When the aide offers her a night gown
she wants to know if it’s for sale.
He tells her it’s a gift,
but she cannot accept.
However, if he would like to lend it to her
that would be “lovely”.
The aide is...
from the rest of the world
by the color of the wallpaper,
or lack thereof.
That southern hospitality
is a refreshing change
after so many years
in London.
She calls the stuffed animal
in her grasp, 'Dog'.
After all, it is a dog, she says.
When the aide offers her a night gown
she wants to know if it’s for sale.
He tells her it’s a gift,
but she cannot accept.
However, if he would like to lend it to her
that would be “lovely”.
The aide is...
702 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
27th Jan 2016 9:50pm
27th Jan 2016 9:50pm
Where the Pavement Ends
The creek, still speaks my name.
Though I imagine it to be raspy
and faded with age.
The forest still carries the faint tone
of carefree laughter
and the pattering footsteps of my childhood.
Pine is the scent of my youth
and green is its color.
Never have I had friends as I did back then
and love always found me
in the summertime.
Nostalgia is such a cliché,
but then again
so is life.
It’s here where the pavement ends
and the age of innocents and wonder
collide.
It’s here
where I so often...
Though I imagine it to be raspy
and faded with age.
The forest still carries the faint tone
of carefree laughter
and the pattering footsteps of my childhood.
Pine is the scent of my youth
and green is its color.
Never have I had friends as I did back then
and love always found me
in the summertime.
Nostalgia is such a cliché,
but then again
so is life.
It’s here where the pavement ends
and the age of innocents and wonder
collide.
It’s here
where I so often...
674 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Nov 2015 4:14pm
17th Nov 2015 4:14pm
Reality is an Assassin
For the longest time
we made believe.
Constructing truth from lies.
Until all that remained
was our belief
that we were actually real.
Nothing false can ever stand.
Reality is an assassin.
We turned the green light
upon ourselves
with fingers firmly pressed.
We fired at will to destroy the truth
and learned the true meaning of hate.
When the noise stopped
and the gallows burned
we reminisced the lie.
we made believe.
Constructing truth from lies.
Until all that remained
was our belief
that we were actually real.
Nothing false can ever stand.
Reality is an assassin.
We turned the green light
upon ourselves
with fingers firmly pressed.
We fired at will to destroy the truth
and learned the true meaning of hate.
When the noise stopped
and the gallows burned
we reminisced the lie.
677 reads
1 Comment
EROTIC POEM
Published
13th Nov 2015 8:10pm
13th Nov 2015 8:10pm
Primal
There's intensity in these eyes,
in this heart.
It's seconded only by rage.
I feel like an animal that's been caged for too long,
restless and starving.
This urge is primal. It's more than simple desire,
but pure need; the need to ravage,
to spread the folds and pierce soft skin,
to taste the ocean on your lips.
I promise your take down will come swiftly.
Pinned firmly to the bed and stripped of those Miss Me jeans
as if your very life depended on it.
Consensual sex doesn't have to be nice,
ripping the thong away...
in this heart.
It's seconded only by rage.
I feel like an animal that's been caged for too long,
restless and starving.
This urge is primal. It's more than simple desire,
but pure need; the need to ravage,
to spread the folds and pierce soft skin,
to taste the ocean on your lips.
I promise your take down will come swiftly.
Pinned firmly to the bed and stripped of those Miss Me jeans
as if your very life depended on it.
Consensual sex doesn't have to be nice,
ripping the thong away...
2733 reads
2 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
13th Nov 2015 8:08pm
13th Nov 2015 8:08pm
The Right Kind of Sinners
She traces infinity
with the tip of her tongue,
pressed firmly to the softest of skin.
He strikes with vigilance
beyond the fold,
piercing the heart of heaven.
Like devils at play, wings spread
circling prey,
they tease and ravage
to no end.
They press and push,
bidding for her attention
dividing her,
beyond limits.
They mesh and meld,
weighing themselves into her,
until all she can do
is bend.
With no mercy to be had
from deviants like these,
they inflict extreme...
with the tip of her tongue,
pressed firmly to the softest of skin.
He strikes with vigilance
beyond the fold,
piercing the heart of heaven.
Like devils at play, wings spread
circling prey,
they tease and ravage
to no end.
They press and push,
bidding for her attention
dividing her,
beyond limits.
They mesh and meld,
weighing themselves into her,
until all she can do
is bend.
With no mercy to be had
from deviants like these,
they inflict extreme...
803 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
12th Nov 2015 3:39pm
12th Nov 2015 3:39pm
Landmines in Fall
She steps softly in the spring time,
trying to avoid landmines till fall.
She tells me she's afraid of dying,
but I know clocks scare her more.
That tick tock sound feels like a countdown,
to major cardiovascular event.
She calls herself a time bomb.
Her tears fall to my skin.
When all I can do is try and comfort,
maybe push her to walk
another mile or two.
I remind her to take the medicine,
determined to see it through.
Never have I put much faith in god
and even less in Man.
I have no faith in her...
trying to avoid landmines till fall.
She tells me she's afraid of dying,
but I know clocks scare her more.
That tick tock sound feels like a countdown,
to major cardiovascular event.
She calls herself a time bomb.
Her tears fall to my skin.
When all I can do is try and comfort,
maybe push her to walk
another mile or two.
I remind her to take the medicine,
determined to see it through.
Never have I put much faith in god
and even less in Man.
I have no faith in her...
566 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
12th Nov 2015 3:34pm
12th Nov 2015 3:34pm
My Favorite Sin
Shadows patrol
these decaying halls
of restless disposition.
Handing out hell passes
to sinful lovers
who reek of discontent.
I claim my own
to play with jaded souls
who taste of salt
and copper.
They feel like heaven
despite this hell
yet fail
to set me free.
So I pace these halls
with lustful intentions
realizing this
is my favorite sin.
Distracting myself
I devourer all who captivate.
This appetite
knows
no end.
these decaying halls
of restless disposition.
Handing out hell passes
to sinful lovers
who reek of discontent.
I claim my own
to play with jaded souls
who taste of salt
and copper.
They feel like heaven
despite this hell
yet fail
to set me free.
So I pace these halls
with lustful intentions
realizing this
is my favorite sin.
Distracting myself
I devourer all who captivate.
This appetite
knows
no end.
640 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th Nov 2015 2:52pm
11th Nov 2015 2:52pm
Old Flings
Kyla used to say
I was wild, untamed.
A free falling adventurist
to the extreme.
In reality,
I was on a crash course with life
and through me, she discovered a taste
for undiscovered landings.
Together we took flight.
Found new edges to leap from
and stayed at the hip
to the very end.
So here's to old flings,
mirrors and swings,
and all the wonderful messes we made.
Here's to sex on rooftops
and changing cars in the fast lane
just so we could explore
the back seat.
Here's to all the good...
I was wild, untamed.
A free falling adventurist
to the extreme.
In reality,
I was on a crash course with life
and through me, she discovered a taste
for undiscovered landings.
Together we took flight.
Found new edges to leap from
and stayed at the hip
to the very end.
So here's to old flings,
mirrors and swings,
and all the wonderful messes we made.
Here's to sex on rooftops
and changing cars in the fast lane
just so we could explore
the back seat.
Here's to all the good...
608 reads
5 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
11th Nov 2015 2:48pm
11th Nov 2015 2:48pm
In Light of Tragedy
In the heat of summer,
while everyone was attending backyard parties
and river trips, he spent most his days
in a hospital bed.
And then, we lost another brother.
In the changing climate of fall,
as the leaves found their way back to the earth
and the rains threatened to flood Texas,
my mother followed.
Then, in the mist of so much tragedy, winter came
and brought with it a spark of light
so bright it shielded us from the darkness.
Even if only for awhile.
On October 28th my first Grandson was born,
seven...
while everyone was attending backyard parties
and river trips, he spent most his days
in a hospital bed.
And then, we lost another brother.
In the changing climate of fall,
as the leaves found their way back to the earth
and the rains threatened to flood Texas,
my mother followed.
Then, in the mist of so much tragedy, winter came
and brought with it a spark of light
so bright it shielded us from the darkness.
Even if only for awhile.
On October 28th my first Grandson was born,
seven...
590 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
6th Nov 2015 6:19pm
6th Nov 2015 6:19pm
Beautiful Misery
From the first moment
I laid eyes on you
I knew
you were beautiful.
And misery knows misery
and I knew that too.
That’s why
I stayed away.
Because believe it or not
I don’t try to fuck up,
it just comes naturally to me.
I laid eyes on you
I knew
you were beautiful.
And misery knows misery
and I knew that too.
That’s why
I stayed away.
Because believe it or not
I don’t try to fuck up,
it just comes naturally to me.
803 reads
12 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by JT-Lit
