Submissions by JevDev
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I like to leave it up to the readers imagination and give everything a double, maybe even treble meaning and let people keep thinking about what I write.. at least that's what I try to do?..
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2013 2:05pm
22nd Dec 2013 2:05pm
A Drunkard's Tale
Memories of your gold speckled pastel sun dried eyes,
remembering that charcoal frame and those pupils that
has no boundaries as they swayed and played with my
body all night long.
Reflections of the falling night drop down behind the hills..
visions of sun stroked trees and the lone blackbird feeding
her young.
The xylophone tinkle of a close by stream coming to rest,
the tinfoil rustle of leaves under foot as the early morning
night time line is blurred forever.
Chalkboard stains of clouds are erased on the passing wind
and...
remembering that charcoal frame and those pupils that
has no boundaries as they swayed and played with my
body all night long.
Reflections of the falling night drop down behind the hills..
visions of sun stroked trees and the lone blackbird feeding
her young.
The xylophone tinkle of a close by stream coming to rest,
the tinfoil rustle of leaves under foot as the early morning
night time line is blurred forever.
Chalkboard stains of clouds are erased on the passing wind
and...
542 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Dec 2013 00:14am
20th Dec 2013 00:14am
Morning Loves
I fell in love three times today on the way for the train,
an early morning party trick of mine.
The lengths I scaled in my head to be with these women,
I somersaulted over the broken glass in the gutters
blindfolded to my lost loves by the winter morning darkness.
The spotlight lampposts follow me along the path of
sleeping gravel as it sparks to life beneath my feet.
The cool fresh wind of a new day makes my skin tingle
with regret, that I didn't bring a coat.. or that I didn't ...
an early morning party trick of mine.
The lengths I scaled in my head to be with these women,
I somersaulted over the broken glass in the gutters
blindfolded to my lost loves by the winter morning darkness.
The spotlight lampposts follow me along the path of
sleeping gravel as it sparks to life beneath my feet.
The cool fresh wind of a new day makes my skin tingle
with regret, that I didn't bring a coat.. or that I didn't ...
580 reads
7 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
16th Dec 2013 8:01pm
16th Dec 2013 8:01pm
Youth
Youth eludes us in youth because we want to grow up
Youth eludes us in teens because we can't be childish
Youth eludes us in middle age being told to grow up
Youth avoids us in old age all on it's own.
Youth eludes us in teens because we can't be childish
Youth eludes us in middle age being told to grow up
Youth avoids us in old age all on it's own.
747 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
16th Dec 2013 5:58pm
16th Dec 2013 5:58pm
Beach
Theme park laughter on the beach,
sand between the children's toes..
looking for their king and queen in
the castles along the way.
The sea foaming as angry dogs do
when children play in their backyard.
A flag of safety shades a half sleeping lifeguard,
sunglasses to ease the pangs from the night before.
War among the sand kickers,
burying their fathers up to their necks,
awaking from their interred sleep in the sun
with wounds from the war.
Beautiful women lay out at the helm,
dredged in oil they...
sand between the children's toes..
looking for their king and queen in
the castles along the way.
The sea foaming as angry dogs do
when children play in their backyard.
A flag of safety shades a half sleeping lifeguard,
sunglasses to ease the pangs from the night before.
War among the sand kickers,
burying their fathers up to their necks,
awaking from their interred sleep in the sun
with wounds from the war.
Beautiful women lay out at the helm,
dredged in oil they...
522 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
2nd Dec 2013 8:01pm
2nd Dec 2013 8:01pm
Tomorrows Politicians
Little girls pigtails being pulled, the sound of stock-market screams for more.. tomorrows youth.
Dead grass, mowed down by their combat leather strap mentalities,
built up to bring it all down someday.
I turn on the TV, these children are on their way to running
the show..
These people take advantage of minorities for their
gold and get them excited about it, drop bombs on innocent
civilians working for innocent livings to spend on the privilege
of watching the sun being stolen from the sky and being sold...
Dead grass, mowed down by their combat leather strap mentalities,
built up to bring it all down someday.
I turn on the TV, these children are on their way to running
the show..
These people take advantage of minorities for their
gold and get them excited about it, drop bombs on innocent
civilians working for innocent livings to spend on the privilege
of watching the sun being stolen from the sky and being sold...
605 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Nov 2013 11:21pm
28th Nov 2013 11:21pm
Lonely Looking Girl
Maroon faded velvet dress with enough leg to
spare for someone else.
Boots of a sensible streetwalker
and bag to match.
Night does her justice,
her shining great earrings pay homage
to the summer sunrise.
A walk of polite uncertainty,
like nobodies home.
Hair with a yellow phosphoric glow
accentuated by the night that follows her home
and tucks her into bed.
A slow sidestep of her face twitches in the
shadows of my eye as she rummages for the keys to her refuge inside her matching bag.
...
spare for someone else.
Boots of a sensible streetwalker
and bag to match.
Night does her justice,
her shining great earrings pay homage
to the summer sunrise.
A walk of polite uncertainty,
like nobodies home.
Hair with a yellow phosphoric glow
accentuated by the night that follows her home
and tucks her into bed.
A slow sidestep of her face twitches in the
shadows of my eye as she rummages for the keys to her refuge inside her matching bag.
...
509 reads
2 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
28th Nov 2013 6:52pm
28th Nov 2013 6:52pm
Wine
Empty creeks, floorboards stained as virginities loss falls through the gaps,
The gaps in our world we wish to fill with pleasures of the heart,
the sickly sweet derangement of wine.
Bohemian bottle tops bent and strewn,
corks the colour of trouble,
take what you want and don’t hurt us!
Come ride this corkscrew helter-skelter,
the shackles of the old world shall fall
as you’re whisked away from the burden of responsibility.
As I throttle the crisp glasswork of the bottle made by the fair hand of labour,
Fourteen hours of someone’s day...
The gaps in our world we wish to fill with pleasures of the heart,
the sickly sweet derangement of wine.
Bohemian bottle tops bent and strewn,
corks the colour of trouble,
take what you want and don’t hurt us!
Come ride this corkscrew helter-skelter,
the shackles of the old world shall fall
as you’re whisked away from the burden of responsibility.
As I throttle the crisp glasswork of the bottle made by the fair hand of labour,
Fourteen hours of someone’s day...
708 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
24th Nov 2013 10:36pm
24th Nov 2013 10:36pm
Rose
Rose, Just sit there.. Let me tame you in the heat of the fame,
thorns like eagles claws, strong and unforgiving.
Your crimson hierarchy, rising in beauty at every stage.
Cocaine stains on your petals from the rush of love.
Is that why people sniff you?.. or riff you in sonnets
and stick to their bonnets the beauty that holds a backlog
of women inside.
Tell me a ghost story from the past, one that lasts.
She loves me, she loves me not?.. Until you're laid out
on the floor. She loves me, she loves me not?.. Until your ...
thorns like eagles claws, strong and unforgiving.
Your crimson hierarchy, rising in beauty at every stage.
Cocaine stains on your petals from the rush of love.
Is that why people sniff you?.. or riff you in sonnets
and stick to their bonnets the beauty that holds a backlog
of women inside.
Tell me a ghost story from the past, one that lasts.
She loves me, she loves me not?.. Until you're laid out
on the floor. She loves me, she loves me not?.. Until your ...
639 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
20th Nov 2013 8:40pm
20th Nov 2013 8:40pm
Those Simple Pleasures..
You're a warm glow glove, tender to the touch
A beacon of light on cold winter nights.
The crackle and pop between my fingers
leaves a sickly sweet smell of old world America.
Smoke kisses my face during intimate moments we
spend together, in any weather, you never leave
my lonely thighs.
A jungle signal for lost souls.
With your virgin white coat and military stance
you lead me on a merry dance.
You've seen the lands of far and wide, you've
danced a mock down by the Clyde. A cell-mates
friend or schoolboy trend...
A beacon of light on cold winter nights.
The crackle and pop between my fingers
leaves a sickly sweet smell of old world America.
Smoke kisses my face during intimate moments we
spend together, in any weather, you never leave
my lonely thighs.
A jungle signal for lost souls.
With your virgin white coat and military stance
you lead me on a merry dance.
You've seen the lands of far and wide, you've
danced a mock down by the Clyde. A cell-mates
friend or schoolboy trend...
620 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
4th Nov 2013 1:19pm
4th Nov 2013 1:19pm
Restlessness Never Sleeps
The far-crying beat of the perpetual sounds of the street
slip through my unlocked window that's on strike against
the heat.
As thoughts crowd my head, I'm unable to sleep..
wishing they'd get caught on a passing train or a wisp
of wind, rare as they are on these clement nights.
Fights for comfort break out among my arms and legs,
begs for unconsciousness are drown out by fire-engine sirens,
it's about time.. this heat needs dealing with.
The paradox of quilt or no quilt,
too hot, too cold. I'm done I fold.
I retreat to...
slip through my unlocked window that's on strike against
the heat.
As thoughts crowd my head, I'm unable to sleep..
wishing they'd get caught on a passing train or a wisp
of wind, rare as they are on these clement nights.
Fights for comfort break out among my arms and legs,
begs for unconsciousness are drown out by fire-engine sirens,
it's about time.. this heat needs dealing with.
The paradox of quilt or no quilt,
too hot, too cold. I'm done I fold.
I retreat to...
501 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Oct 2013 10:43pm
17th Oct 2013 10:43pm
The English Greyhound Sound
All I can hear is the English greyhound sound as we
pound along the sodden ground.
I rolled up my ticket to use as a cigarette
or tooth pick, I passed mighty stretches of farmland
alongside the motorway, imagining they're mine.
Passing through a little town I could see little church
spires cuddled up with plumbing depots through steamy
hand written hearts on the windows, it's an opening into
someone's life.
The binding twists and turns of alien roundabouts,
doubts crowd my mind; 'Am I on the right bus?' is whispered ...
pound along the sodden ground.
I rolled up my ticket to use as a cigarette
or tooth pick, I passed mighty stretches of farmland
alongside the motorway, imagining they're mine.
Passing through a little town I could see little church
spires cuddled up with plumbing depots through steamy
hand written hearts on the windows, it's an opening into
someone's life.
The binding twists and turns of alien roundabouts,
doubts crowd my mind; 'Am I on the right bus?' is whispered ...
508 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
10th Oct 2013 3:10pm
10th Oct 2013 3:10pm
Heartbroken
That fresh morning coffee fingertip sting,
the pain is real, so try to sing?..
the songs that all men do acquire,
when they've lost their love in a downward spire.
A façade of steam plays hide and seek,
as a lonely tear rolls down your cheek.
it's soothed enamoured hearts for years..
but failing that
then slip a smile into your cup
but wait until the pubs wake up.
the pain is real, so try to sing?..
the songs that all men do acquire,
when they've lost their love in a downward spire.
A façade of steam plays hide and seek,
as a lonely tear rolls down your cheek.
it's soothed enamoured hearts for years..
but failing that
then slip a smile into your cup
but wait until the pubs wake up.
589 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by JevDev
