Submissions by Layla
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
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
101 reads
6 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
124 reads
5 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
124 reads
13 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
124 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th Dec 2019 3:03pm
29th Dec 2019 3:03pm
Geography
When does being enough occur? Collapse of all things meaninful
following ghostly track. To do it differently, consistently
gripping unto the next thing to save the present
to be a woman who never knew anything
but pleasures of being used, usefully
inventing so much, building haphazardly.
Isn't life about revisions and perversions, knocking all possibilities?
Three million tries can't be wrong tied at every stomachache like stepping stone
while the universe gushes from my pores.
Somewhere I'm...
following ghostly track. To do it differently, consistently
gripping unto the next thing to save the present
to be a woman who never knew anything
but pleasures of being used, usefully
inventing so much, building haphazardly.
Isn't life about revisions and perversions, knocking all possibilities?
Three million tries can't be wrong tied at every stomachache like stepping stone
while the universe gushes from my pores.
Somewhere I'm...
#SelfReflection
156 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
26th Dec 2019 1:37am
26th Dec 2019 1:37am
The story of N
No one wants a dead man’s possession
when the soul outweighs flesh and bones
and the garments secrete secrets of fury
believing in Gods, monsters and the wary
rising from the depths of the red earth.
What did you hope to see, standing tall
taller than trees to avoid the sting of salt
tears blanketing beliefs, peeling the skin
layer by layer reeling in, will and dignity
chains rattling humanity to its knees.
They toiled the soil, beaten and branded
scent of death marinating the air, choking
the light, deafening...
when the soul outweighs flesh and bones
and the garments secrete secrets of fury
believing in Gods, monsters and the wary
rising from the depths of the red earth.
What did you hope to see, standing tall
taller than trees to avoid the sting of salt
tears blanketing beliefs, peeling the skin
layer by layer reeling in, will and dignity
chains rattling humanity to its knees.
They toiled the soil, beaten and branded
scent of death marinating the air, choking
the light, deafening...
#historical
117 reads
10 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Dec 2019 6:21pm
20th Dec 2019 6:21pm
The City
The streets have no names
in this shadowless city
parallel avenues running
symmetrical yet;
unapologetically paradoxical
one next to another
immitating the limitations of
mapped perfection.
Flickering sparks in the dark,
feigning democracy of the soul.
The crossroads are X’d
balancing the past with the future
and the Y’s run to end-
less streams of consciousness
paying forward debt of fools
branching from bitter roots
mindful of landfills.
Bullet holes stand against time ...
in this shadowless city
parallel avenues running
symmetrical yet;
unapologetically paradoxical
one next to another
immitating the limitations of
mapped perfection.
Flickering sparks in the dark,
feigning democracy of the soul.
The crossroads are X’d
balancing the past with the future
and the Y’s run to end-
less streams of consciousness
paying forward debt of fools
branching from bitter roots
mindful of landfills.
Bullet holes stand against time ...
#LifeCycle
133 reads
12 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Nov 2019 10:25am
19th Nov 2019 10:25am
Expat
I
woke up
with a pain
in the neck
sleeping
on the wrong
side of the pillow
in a bed
attached
with a 10 year
warranty
and a disclaimer
at the end
but
it wasn’t
the pillow
nor the bed
I was
sleeping
on the wrong
side of the world
warrantless disclaimed.
woke up
with a pain
in the neck
sleeping
on the wrong
side of the pillow
in a bed
attached
with a 10 year
warranty
and a disclaimer
at the end
but
it wasn’t
the pillow
nor the bed
I was
sleeping
on the wrong
side of the world
warrantless disclaimed.
#LifeStruggles
#sleep
#FeelingLost
228 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Nov 2019 6:39pm
12th Nov 2019 6:39pm
Once Upon A Time
Peace and love moved war to the other side of the moon
Hatred and greed climbed a ladder and pulled it too soon
Before time could heal old wounds bleeding like river
To oceans and seas risen in anger.
The earth cried in pain,
“You shall never rest in my womb again!
To do what’s undone, can never be done
You are the storm without rain.”
Kindness wrapped its clouds around the children
And the wise sun awaited untaken by questions
No one knew the answer to human fears
Clawing at every grave ladened with...
Hatred and greed climbed a ladder and pulled it too soon
Before time could heal old wounds bleeding like river
To oceans and seas risen in anger.
The earth cried in pain,
“You shall never rest in my womb again!
To do what’s undone, can never be done
You are the storm without rain.”
Kindness wrapped its clouds around the children
And the wise sun awaited untaken by questions
No one knew the answer to human fears
Clawing at every grave ladened with...
#war
#peace
197 reads
7 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
12th Nov 2019 1:30pm
12th Nov 2019 1:30pm
Open Endings
It’s almost December, again
the Christmas lights are still there
hung like a garland around the window frame
red and blue, blink, linking.. life and gloom
to the grin of the moon
reminding me, the end of 2019 is near, and
I light a candle to familiar ghosts
dancing in slow motion on the walls
painted pistachio green
turning to a shade of white
salt or snow; perhaps both
pure, perfect
Separately.
I wonder
what does it all mean:
the bittersweet pull of
discord to tidy open endings,
luck and rhythm of...
the Christmas lights are still there
hung like a garland around the window frame
red and blue, blink, linking.. life and gloom
to the grin of the moon
reminding me, the end of 2019 is near, and
I light a candle to familiar ghosts
dancing in slow motion on the walls
painted pistachio green
turning to a shade of white
salt or snow; perhaps both
pure, perfect
Separately.
I wonder
what does it all mean:
the bittersweet pull of
discord to tidy open endings,
luck and rhythm of...
#sadness
#Christmas
139 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
29th Oct 2019 11:28pm
29th Oct 2019 11:28pm
cigarettes & sex
the sky stretched
pale, persistent and thin
as moth’s wings;
our thoughts transparent
our needs primitive
between
lust & greed
freed of stillness flowing to sea
ideology portrayed
sequential and clear
yearning for chaos, maelstrom
storm becoming ‘Art’ of ashes
deep in valleys
high on hills
dark with deed
innocence consumed
mouth to mouth, teeth to teeth
in stagnated breath
we swallowed pride
to halo of the night
between
cigarettes & sex ...
pale, persistent and thin
as moth’s wings;
our thoughts transparent
our needs primitive
between
lust & greed
freed of stillness flowing to sea
ideology portrayed
sequential and clear
yearning for chaos, maelstrom
storm becoming ‘Art’ of ashes
deep in valleys
high on hills
dark with deed
innocence consumed
mouth to mouth, teeth to teeth
in stagnated breath
we swallowed pride
to halo of the night
between
cigarettes & sex ...
#love
264 reads
8 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
27th Oct 2019 4:43am
27th Oct 2019 4:43am
Numerology
They had lived a good life.
Together.
In love, before they knew the words, the acceleration, the rush, the declaration to the sun, the moon and the stars.
It had come easily, slowly, softly, like tipper tapper of the rain on the tin roof and a pot of hot soup tricking drop by drop hushing the heat to stop the burn but through the storms and the calms they danced to the sound of two heartbeats echoing each other.
Love in its simplest form nestled in ritualism and traditions.
One day,
She found a lump on her left breast.
Another day,
He suffered a...
Together.
In love, before they knew the words, the acceleration, the rush, the declaration to the sun, the moon and the stars.
It had come easily, slowly, softly, like tipper tapper of the rain on the tin roof and a pot of hot soup tricking drop by drop hushing the heat to stop the burn but through the storms and the calms they danced to the sound of two heartbeats echoing each other.
Love in its simplest form nestled in ritualism and traditions.
One day,
She found a lump on her left breast.
Another day,
He suffered a...
#death
#universe
#mystery
177 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Layla
