Submissions by Layla
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Eh.. yours truly
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Jun 2020 1:23am
8th Jun 2020 1:23am
Greyscale
The magnolia tree
bloomed early this year.
The drought, the heat
stagnated
the intolerant and withered
the indelible.
The repressive sky
related
to no one
nothing.
The diseased bark
peeled from the limbs
rejecting its own skin
disconnecting
from the source of pain
piece by piece
shedding weight
of ten thousand suns.
Disfigured
dismembered
disarmed
along with carved
names, splinters & weathered wills ...
bloomed early this year.
The drought, the heat
stagnated
the intolerant and withered
the indelible.
The repressive sky
related
to no one
nothing.
The diseased bark
peeled from the limbs
rejecting its own skin
disconnecting
from the source of pain
piece by piece
shedding weight
of ten thousand suns.
Disfigured
dismembered
disarmed
along with carved
names, splinters & weathered wills ...
#LifeCycle
#philosophical
208 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
22nd Apr 2020 2:35pm
22nd Apr 2020 2:35pm
NaPo 2020 (The Hodgepodge Chronicles) 22-30
30/30
The Topsy-Turvy World
There’s an encyclopedia of little people
in the inverted topsy-turvy world
of my turkish coffee cup
with little feet, teensy-weensy teeth
swinging itty-bitty toothpicks like swords
quarreling small talks and big thoughts
with their army of red ants.
They swarm over ravine of swills
muddy hills; a black & white kingdom
moonless
sunless
godless, tunnels and streets.
Jami’s toll announces
الله أكبر ...
The Topsy-Turvy World
There’s an encyclopedia of little people
in the inverted topsy-turvy world
of my turkish coffee cup
with little feet, teensy-weensy teeth
swinging itty-bitty toothpicks like swords
quarreling small talks and big thoughts
with their army of red ants.
They swarm over ravine of swills
muddy hills; a black & white kingdom
moonless
sunless
godless, tunnels and streets.
Jami’s toll announces
الله أكبر ...
#NaPoWriMo2020
250 reads
21 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Apr 2020 2:39pm
5th Apr 2020 2:39pm
NaPo 2020 (The Hodgepodge Chronicles)
21/30
The Suitcase
When crooked claws of age lays its last axiom upon me
I shall wear dark funeral clothes and white summer gloves,
robin-blue hat, pale and soft as the day I held her in my arms.
I will gather bouquet of flowers near the half-finished swings
lily of the valley, carnations and lavender lilacs, perfume’d
delicately, awakening sleepwalkers brimmed with wanderlust.
Gently tip-toeing to attic of my mind where lays a suitcase
with whispers and lullabies. Weathered and worn skin-deep
patched wishes sewn to torn...
The Suitcase
When crooked claws of age lays its last axiom upon me
I shall wear dark funeral clothes and white summer gloves,
robin-blue hat, pale and soft as the day I held her in my arms.
I will gather bouquet of flowers near the half-finished swings
lily of the valley, carnations and lavender lilacs, perfume’d
delicately, awakening sleepwalkers brimmed with wanderlust.
Gently tip-toeing to attic of my mind where lays a suitcase
with whispers and lullabies. Weathered and worn skin-deep
patched wishes sewn to torn...
#NaPoWriMo2020
248 reads
20 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Apr 2020 5:34pm
4th Apr 2020 5:34pm
The Jogger at 4am.
The darkness wallowed in its own misery
thick with molasses opacity, hot and vicid
the air hovered over streets indecisively
dripping into streams from leaves, buildings
and automobiles. Scent of mildew and dust
unfurled slowly with systematic persistence
smothering with each drop, weight of water.
The street lights were indifferent, heads in bow
silent witnesses to all creatures in fear of light
fretfully racing with urgency to win the fight.
Twin headlights sped cutting through shadows
leaving kaleidoscope of colors as...
thick with molasses opacity, hot and vicid
the air hovered over streets indecisively
dripping into streams from leaves, buildings
and automobiles. Scent of mildew and dust
unfurled slowly with systematic persistence
smothering with each drop, weight of water.
The street lights were indifferent, heads in bow
silent witnesses to all creatures in fear of light
fretfully racing with urgency to win the fight.
Twin headlights sped cutting through shadows
leaving kaleidoscope of colors as...
#shadows
#nature
#NaPoWriMo2020
49 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
4th Apr 2020 00:46am
4th Apr 2020 00:46am
Lying to a liar
More than once
I confessed a lie
to protect the truth
when you knew
one hundred people
could have told you
what you already knew.
More than once
I pretended not to cry
to protect you from guilt
bestowed by your own whip
one thousand lashes
against your skin, reducing
a man to his knees.
Once I knelt
Rubbing ointment on your feet
blisters, burns and bedraggled
looking up to your eyes
searching for the boy, lost
who cried wolf
one too many times
lying to your...
I confessed a lie
to protect the truth
when you knew
one hundred people
could have told you
what you already knew.
More than once
I pretended not to cry
to protect you from guilt
bestowed by your own whip
one thousand lashes
against your skin, reducing
a man to his knees.
Once I knelt
Rubbing ointment on your feet
blisters, burns and bedraggled
looking up to your eyes
searching for the boy, lost
who cried wolf
one too many times
lying to your...
#relationships
#NaPoWriMo2020
74 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
3rd Apr 2020 00:27am
3rd Apr 2020 00:27am
The Stage
Silence breaks in half to the sound of thunder
and echoes cascade in the distance, fearful
to disturb the night longing liberation of solitude
crawling to the horizon ‘pon stars at deathbed.
I tiptoe in the empty rooms searching for lightening
to jolt fractured pieces of life in despair to repair
the vast spaces of void, weightless artifacts
lay at half mass covered with dust and the rusty tin
roof overhead sizzles under tempo of raindrops
muffling last summer’s temper of lustful expectations.
Velvet curtains sway...
and echoes cascade in the distance, fearful
to disturb the night longing liberation of solitude
crawling to the horizon ‘pon stars at deathbed.
I tiptoe in the empty rooms searching for lightening
to jolt fractured pieces of life in despair to repair
the vast spaces of void, weightless artifacts
lay at half mass covered with dust and the rusty tin
roof overhead sizzles under tempo of raindrops
muffling last summer’s temper of lustful expectations.
Velvet curtains sway...
#sadness
#emptiness
#NaPoWriMo2020
77 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Apr 2020 3:44pm
1st Apr 2020 3:44pm
The Three Month Old King
Come in little new year, crawl right in
shy of four months with a halo of a dead moon
‘round your reared head, bearing headline news
we were worried on arrival, speculating
the unimaginable: pains, gains and heartbreaks
carrying last year’s wars, bombs and shrapnel
to cut right through the skin
revealing disease of all mankind
on full volume topping the charts.
A Corona…the coronet of your 3 month reign
but we both know the core of the truth
there are just too many of us populating the earth
destructing more than...
shy of four months with a halo of a dead moon
‘round your reared head, bearing headline news
we were worried on arrival, speculating
the unimaginable: pains, gains and heartbreaks
carrying last year’s wars, bombs and shrapnel
to cut right through the skin
revealing disease of all mankind
on full volume topping the charts.
A Corona…the coronet of your 3 month reign
but we both know the core of the truth
there are just too many of us populating the earth
destructing more than...
#politics
#illness
#NaPoWriMo2020
93 reads
9 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th Feb 2020 1:11pm
13th Feb 2020 1:11pm
Stilt
~If only I could paint like Rockwell
& build like Wright~~Me
(Prologue)
I’m not sure which came first:
pang of familiar finality, or
numb moments of calamity.
Knotted pull and tug, beneath
offerings of benign serenity.
Although, the path was clear
He was gone before I got there.
I still remember the vacant eyes
piece of my heart clenched in his fist.
*
*
*
*
There was no room in this house
crowded by Indians, Spanish and Jews
crawling the corridors, displaced, lost. ...
& build like Wright~~Me
(Prologue)
I’m not sure which came first:
pang of familiar finality, or
numb moments of calamity.
Knotted pull and tug, beneath
offerings of benign serenity.
Although, the path was clear
He was gone before I got there.
I still remember the vacant eyes
piece of my heart clenched in his fist.
*
*
*
*
There was no room in this house
crowded by Indians, Spanish and Jews
crawling the corridors, displaced, lost. ...
#love
#LifeCycle
231 reads
12 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
25th Jan 2020 2:08pm
25th Jan 2020 2:08pm
The Therapy
The therapist explained how codependency is an irrational destruction to a relationship. Shifting in her seat, putting her notebook aside, pensively gazing the room; how with emotional investments one develops expectations.
The couple sitting in the loveseat across from her heard with selective empathy, negotiating in their minds the truth, each claiming contribution with half accountability.
“I want to know why she never trusts me. Always insisting I’m wrong. Every conversation leads to another woman, another email, late evenings, early mornings, online, offline. I can...
The couple sitting in the loveseat across from her heard with selective empathy, negotiating in their minds the truth, each claiming contribution with half accountability.
“I want to know why she never trusts me. Always insisting I’m wrong. Every conversation leads to another woman, another email, late evenings, early mornings, online, offline. I can...
#relationships
#conflict
219 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Jan 2020 7:32am
23rd Jan 2020 7:32am
Minimalism
What's Your Story
Do you live
How it's told?
She Wore Snakeskin Boots
Eve
Laughed triumphantly
Toppling kingdoms.
One Day, Two Late
The wall
Crumbled
So did they.
Do you live
How it's told?
She Wore Snakeskin Boots
Eve
Laughed triumphantly
Toppling kingdoms.
One Day, Two Late
The wall
Crumbled
So did they.
#strength
#women
#relationships
154 reads
13 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
5th Jan 2020 2:23am
5th Jan 2020 2:23am
That’s Not Very Nice!
His parents were attending a wedding and of course she was more than happy to babysit her one and only nephew. They sat together on the couch, some Disney movie was flickering on the screen that she had seen many times.
They all looked the same after a certain lapse in generations.
The good will prevail, the bad will suffer and life will go on happily ever after.
She put on her ear plugs to listen to music editing and writing on her iPad but her thoughts were battling upstream, branching like slivers of lightening.
Flashing beams striking then gone without an...
They all looked the same after a certain lapse in generations.
The good will prevail, the bad will suffer and life will go on happily ever after.
She put on her ear plugs to listen to music editing and writing on her iPad but her thoughts were battling upstream, branching like slivers of lightening.
Flashing beams striking then gone without an...
#children
#TruthOfLife
94 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Dec 2019 8:14pm
30th Dec 2019 8:14pm
Send Me Flowers When I’m Dead
Where would I put these beautiful long stemmed roses
Carefully wrapped, tied in a box doomed from the start
With a note, “You will always be loved” laid on top.
Sentimentality never cloaked you well, darling. Neither
Your accent with southern veil assuring remembrance
Somehow, somewhere. Tempering calamity of surface
Perfectly trimmed arrow’d stems puncturing the wound.
Again.
Faithful to the pain, my fingers search for the thorns
Carved claws feel smooth, yet; sharp against my fingertips
To dig graveyard of rusted memories but...
Carefully wrapped, tied in a box doomed from the start
With a note, “You will always be loved” laid on top.
Sentimentality never cloaked you well, darling. Neither
Your accent with southern veil assuring remembrance
Somehow, somewhere. Tempering calamity of surface
Perfectly trimmed arrow’d stems puncturing the wound.
Again.
Faithful to the pain, my fingers search for the thorns
Carved claws feel smooth, yet; sharp against my fingertips
To dig graveyard of rusted memories but...
#death
#flowers
#rose
191 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Layla
