Submissions by Jestalessa
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Someone that writes on & off, in a conglomoration of past, present, fiction, & non, often in one piece... as we do. [:
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Oct 2014 1:15pm
11th Oct 2014 1:15pm
Open a sunrise, once
She smokes sonnets
drinks nicotine from old doubts
dreams James Dean
to her fingertips in silent black
under lonely white sheets
And she clamps her ears to salmon pink
that lives too brash too loud outside
her zen rock garden eyes where
no ivy fences sleepy trees
hide her from the lonely black
or soundless silent white
The shrill of greyscale
vibrations in a glass case
trill happily under stray curls
and empty words twirl
untroubled across her tongue
the sonnets of the silent black
on so many...
drinks nicotine from old doubts
dreams James Dean
to her fingertips in silent black
under lonely white sheets
And she clamps her ears to salmon pink
that lives too brash too loud outside
her zen rock garden eyes where
no ivy fences sleepy trees
hide her from the lonely black
or soundless silent white
The shrill of greyscale
vibrations in a glass case
trill happily under stray curls
and empty words twirl
untroubled across her tongue
the sonnets of the silent black
on so many...
1168 reads
23 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
6th Sep 2013 1:36pm
6th Sep 2013 1:36pm
But, the calm
bring me your battles
your scramble for controls lost
on a child that found
her head, shoulders
knees and toes
all by herself
with your poisons hissing into ears
of gerbils in rats' clothing
and to the thrones of rats, created
in their own image of God
hand me over your filed false teeth
full of every good thing
that comes from above
and give me your disgusting mound
of soulless destitution
your mess of contradiction
so I can scour it
even though my eyes
are programmed to pinpoint the best
in you
...
your scramble for controls lost
on a child that found
her head, shoulders
knees and toes
all by herself
with your poisons hissing into ears
of gerbils in rats' clothing
and to the thrones of rats, created
in their own image of God
hand me over your filed false teeth
full of every good thing
that comes from above
and give me your disgusting mound
of soulless destitution
your mess of contradiction
so I can scour it
even though my eyes
are programmed to pinpoint the best
in you
...
1174 reads
15 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Sep 2013 3:08pm
1st Sep 2013 3:08pm
Where this road goes
I trace the battle scars on his face
with the tip of a middle finger
mapping the stories of fights and fun
and drunken nights
and his mouth silently speaks, again
of all the hushed flames
that remind me to wonder why mine is now
now
now
But I touch lips to the warmth of his neck
slide my chest down his body
to kiss the broad form laid out beneath me
where I'm sure sensations are all but lost
on hard hills of muscle
and he waits for me, stock still
because he knows
belt-buckle promises...
with the tip of a middle finger
mapping the stories of fights and fun
and drunken nights
and his mouth silently speaks, again
of all the hushed flames
that remind me to wonder why mine is now
now
now
But I touch lips to the warmth of his neck
slide my chest down his body
to kiss the broad form laid out beneath me
where I'm sure sensations are all but lost
on hard hills of muscle
and he waits for me, stock still
because he knows
belt-buckle promises...
1378 reads
24 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Aug 2013 9:47pm
27th Aug 2013 9:47pm
They're mine now
1898 reads
29 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
26th Aug 2013 2:50pm
26th Aug 2013 2:50pm
Nothing
She laughs aloud to herself, with him.
He doesn't, but he smiles -
and whether or not it's an inside joke
or a memory
or just the fact that she's not from here, and she's
amused that this little red bus
is for hauling post alongside the few passengers
it's a happy thing to see her laugh aloud
to herself
with no explanation.
He doesn't, but he smiles -
and whether or not it's an inside joke
or a memory
or just the fact that she's not from here, and she's
amused that this little red bus
is for hauling post alongside the few passengers
it's a happy thing to see her laugh aloud
to herself
with no explanation.
1152 reads
20 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
23rd Apr 2013 12:48pm
23rd Apr 2013 12:48pm
i can count him on one hand
i don't like to call it love, just
because the little hand jacks it to the other side of the clock
way faster than normal
when we only have two hours before 'real' bedtime
this time
and, just because
we pick the same bloody songs at random
doesn't mean we're on the same wavelength
[even though that was one obscure little song for him to lift
out of the whole collection, and the other eight,
those could have been coincidence.]
and it could have been grand, the idea of us
if i believed i was all that...
because the little hand jacks it to the other side of the clock
way faster than normal
when we only have two hours before 'real' bedtime
this time
and, just because
we pick the same bloody songs at random
doesn't mean we're on the same wavelength
[even though that was one obscure little song for him to lift
out of the whole collection, and the other eight,
those could have been coincidence.]
and it could have been grand, the idea of us
if i believed i was all that...
1268 reads
23 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Mar 2013 7:49am
13th Mar 2013 7:49am
In a oner, while sitting in a bus station
1483 reads
31 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
6th Feb 2013 9:11pm
6th Feb 2013 9:11pm
Serpent
i. Frost hung a web on my breath
tonight
meeting the crumpled imp-
lication of our skin
undressed
With screeching birds
manically cracking skulls, necks
wings
against their bone-barred cage
I know you heard them
ii. the problems lie in those hairline fractures ...
tonight
meeting the crumpled imp-
lication of our skin
undressed
With screeching birds
manically cracking skulls, necks
wings
against their bone-barred cage
I know you heard them
ii. the problems lie in those hairline fractures ...
1056 reads
21 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Jan 2013 10:14am
15th Jan 2013 10:14am
Over Summer
You and I --
our bones fall in Autumn colours
softly, like feathers cast
off our tree named 'Ionraic'* -
and till crack-filled frost reflects the glow of Spring
we lie, dormant as sleeping seeds in the hollow
of Terra's throat
while Winter shades draw their bridal greys
over a hundred suns.
And we,
when Nyx bows to Equinox
and sweeps away her starlit skirts
stay quiet in our foetal state, waiting
for the desperation of...
our bones fall in Autumn colours
softly, like feathers cast
off our tree named 'Ionraic'* -
and till crack-filled frost reflects the glow of Spring
we lie, dormant as sleeping seeds in the hollow
of Terra's throat
while Winter shades draw their bridal greys
over a hundred suns.
And we,
when Nyx bows to Equinox
and sweeps away her starlit skirts
stay quiet in our foetal state, waiting
for the desperation of...
1367 reads
35 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
3rd Nov 2012 1:15pm
3rd Nov 2012 1:15pm
She still sings us both to sleep
I wonder sometimes
if life in the dark
has lost me the ground line
to creatures and earth
in dealing with the poison
of humanity -
losing warmth,
delusions of purity
But I miss nothing
as much as the ocean.
We bond tightest through adversity
don't we?
or adrenaline
or endorphins shared ...
if life in the dark
has lost me the ground line
to creatures and earth
in dealing with the poison
of humanity -
losing warmth,
delusions of purity
But I miss nothing
as much as the ocean.
We bond tightest through adversity
don't we?
or adrenaline
or endorphins shared ...
1418 reads
31 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Oct 2012 11:20am
10th Oct 2012 11:20am
No one has to know
I hid the postcard
in a book of Carver stories
The lavender
and bracelet
in the bottom of my jewelry box
The poem, I threw away
because it was hand written and
though it meant nothing specific
its effort smelt
of more than promise fulfilled
to anyone with sense
Some whispers
I wrote in an old notebook
up the middle binding
to remind me in times of self doubt
that I was wanted once
or twice ...
in a book of Carver stories
The lavender
and bracelet
in the bottom of my jewelry box
The poem, I threw away
because it was hand written and
though it meant nothing specific
its effort smelt
of more than promise fulfilled
to anyone with sense
Some whispers
I wrote in an old notebook
up the middle binding
to remind me in times of self doubt
that I was wanted once
or twice ...
1238 reads
29 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
30th Sep 2012 8:55pm
30th Sep 2012 8:55pm
Naiv
(for the "UGLY" comp)
a pity about the transparent shell
making you ten times resilient
because it's disgusting
to see every
oozing, pulsing organ
through such bulletproof glass
i'm livid, in fact
that there's no phasing
your clockwork predictability
and still your simple company
could leak into morning
leaving its tell-tale stench
on my favourite boots
you deserved no small kindness paid
but i felt[a moment] for that horrid face
the spindly neck and dazey eyes
that...
a pity about the transparent shell
making you ten times resilient
because it's disgusting
to see every
oozing, pulsing organ
through such bulletproof glass
i'm livid, in fact
that there's no phasing
your clockwork predictability
and still your simple company
could leak into morning
leaving its tell-tale stench
on my favourite boots
you deserved no small kindness paid
but i felt[a moment] for that horrid face
the spindly neck and dazey eyes
that...
1076 reads
23 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Jestalessa
