Submissions by Lee
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I am. What else it there to say? My likes, dislikes, loves and wishes, mean nothing if I do not acknowledge that I simply am. That I breathe and experience. There is no greater explanation.
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
26th Sep 2013 1:11am
26th Sep 2013 1:11am
*Excerpt* Episodes of a Slowfade: Hell is on a Sunday
EASTER IS five points of hell delivered in fourteen words and the cracking of plaster beneath your brother’s head.
The day starts with a two hour church service about forgiveness, about renewal – everyone seems to have acknowledge the message but him. Once home you are a quiet calm with a turbulent underside. The heels on your feet make you unsteady, make the world pitch and sway as you try to keep your balance.
Four hundred and fifty five.
Four hundred and fifty six.
Four hundred and fifty seven.
Your father is sitting on the sofa,...
The day starts with a two hour church service about forgiveness, about renewal – everyone seems to have acknowledge the message but him. Once home you are a quiet calm with a turbulent underside. The heels on your feet make you unsteady, make the world pitch and sway as you try to keep your balance.
Four hundred and fifty five.
Four hundred and fifty six.
Four hundred and fifty seven.
Your father is sitting on the sofa,...
921 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
22nd Sep 2013 11:36pm
22nd Sep 2013 11:36pm
A Handful of Daisies
I am a handful of daisies in a tired sky
I wonder time on hands of ice
I hear prayers through roots of wind
I see distinctions in plains of gazes
I want those faces to ceases their weeping
I am a handful of daisies in a tired sky
I pretend to know, to fly
I feel the rogues of winter rays
I touch the hopscotch skipping clouds
I worry all the while out loud
I cry when petals wither and rust
I am a handful of daisies in a tired sky
I understand what lives must die
I say my hopes in lightening strikes
I dream this thunder will...
I wonder time on hands of ice
I hear prayers through roots of wind
I see distinctions in plains of gazes
I want those faces to ceases their weeping
I am a handful of daisies in a tired sky
I pretend to know, to fly
I feel the rogues of winter rays
I touch the hopscotch skipping clouds
I worry all the while out loud
I cry when petals wither and rust
I am a handful of daisies in a tired sky
I understand what lives must die
I say my hopes in lightening strikes
I dream this thunder will...
712 reads
8 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Sep 2013 9:25pm
22nd Sep 2013 9:25pm
So Many… People (Me)
So many people going by
Locked on their path
Locked up inside
So many bones wrapped up and scrapped
With scars in the marrow
Their tellings all trapped
So many windows, windows to see
Contrived adaptation,
No room to flee
So many lost, too little found
All tripped up
Laying exposed on the ground
So many worries lay in my head
Bottled backwards
All the things that I’ve fled
Stop moving, freeze in place
Hold out those mirrors
So I can see my own face.
Locked on their path
Locked up inside
So many bones wrapped up and scrapped
With scars in the marrow
Their tellings all trapped
So many windows, windows to see
Contrived adaptation,
No room to flee
So many lost, too little found
All tripped up
Laying exposed on the ground
So many worries lay in my head
Bottled backwards
All the things that I’ve fled
Stop moving, freeze in place
Hold out those mirrors
So I can see my own face.
772 reads
9 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
13th Sep 2013 7:48am
13th Sep 2013 7:48am
*Excerpt* Episodes of a Slowfade: That Was Not A Mask
DREAD IS halfway to forever in your gut, a hundred and fifty pounds of knowing tugging at your limbs. There is a hummingbird in your chest and your heart has flown into space without you. You do not feel the fabric of the sofa as you sit down, eyes still glued to the back of his head, lit up like a halo from the computer screen in front of him. You do not smell the pine of the Christmas tree, you are not comforted by the warmth of the fire caressing you. You are climbing mountains of air and your feet keep slipping.
You are frozen, realization a winter frost that has captured every...
You are frozen, realization a winter frost that has captured every...
759 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
7th Sep 2013 1:10am
7th Sep 2013 1:10am
Yield
Yield
Can you do it,
Let go and bend?
Yield
Can you accept it
relinquish the pretend?
Yield!
screamed the wind
God in the rage
Bend!
demanded the trees
heavy with age
Bow down
to the ground
hang heavy muscles,
your back in a curve
arms bent to brace,
revealing that nerve,
let the dirt meet your face
You think you are strong
standing so tall –
the strongest are always
the first to fall
The wind will come
against the straight
and you will
crack,
crumble,
and...
Can you do it,
Let go and bend?
Yield
Can you accept it
relinquish the pretend?
Yield!
screamed the wind
God in the rage
Bend!
demanded the trees
heavy with age
Bow down
to the ground
hang heavy muscles,
your back in a curve
arms bent to brace,
revealing that nerve,
let the dirt meet your face
You think you are strong
standing so tall –
the strongest are always
the first to fall
The wind will come
against the straight
and you will
crack,
crumble,
and...
651 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
7th Sep 2013 00:34am
7th Sep 2013 00:34am
You Promised Yourself
YOU PROMISED yourself in words that you would unpack, lay out all that you had collected and bear them open for the world to see. So why is the dust on the attic stairs undisturbed? Why are the boxes still full, laughing at all that you can’t let go?
You almost did it, almost handed one box over, almost spread its contents before his feet. But fear is a powerful thing, beating beating beating at you until your lungs give and your legs collapse. The words hang over your head in sympathy.
Knees ache where they are pressed to the jagged floor and eyes tear up as they glue...
You almost did it, almost handed one box over, almost spread its contents before his feet. But fear is a powerful thing, beating beating beating at you until your lungs give and your legs collapse. The words hang over your head in sympathy.
Knees ache where they are pressed to the jagged floor and eyes tear up as they glue...
892 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Aug 2013 2:09am
21st Aug 2013 2:09am
Tires
Hot highway underfoot
Tiredly abused
Seeing all these weary faces
Metal box confused
Follow the dotted line
to the horizon
where maybe there are wings in the hills,
eyes in the trees,
that will give vision
to see past the congestion
past the lines of red
and the twins of white glaring back from the other side.
Maybe beneath this cloudless sky
beneath the tar they run over and over and over
beneath the figures of 9 to 5
beneath the toiling of notches and hands that count
maybe….
beneath all of it
there will...
Tiredly abused
Seeing all these weary faces
Metal box confused
Follow the dotted line
to the horizon
where maybe there are wings in the hills,
eyes in the trees,
that will give vision
to see past the congestion
past the lines of red
and the twins of white glaring back from the other side.
Maybe beneath this cloudless sky
beneath the tar they run over and over and over
beneath the figures of 9 to 5
beneath the toiling of notches and hands that count
maybe….
beneath all of it
there will...
881 reads
10 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Aug 2013 8:11am
14th Aug 2013 8:11am
Where Stills Will Quiet
There is a dripping dripping dripping
in your head
and on the floor lay drops of red,
the pen is bent down to the ground
where ink stains without a sound
There is a dripping dripping dripping
in your head
and you’ve carved up the shades of said,
the white beneath a slitted wrist
grows darker with a weighted fist
Failure failure failure
echoes ‘round
where unpacked boxes held you bound,
dust lay thick on untouched stairs
and panic hot, begins to flare
Failure failure failure
echoes ‘round
when victory in...
in your head
and on the floor lay drops of red,
the pen is bent down to the ground
where ink stains without a sound
There is a dripping dripping dripping
in your head
and you’ve carved up the shades of said,
the white beneath a slitted wrist
grows darker with a weighted fist
Failure failure failure
echoes ‘round
where unpacked boxes held you bound,
dust lay thick on untouched stairs
and panic hot, begins to flare
Failure failure failure
echoes ‘round
when victory in...
785 reads
9 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Aug 2013 1:08am
9th Aug 2013 1:08am
Squared
I have been run over
by beginnings,
dragged along
by middles,
all the while ends
float above:
clouds of various shapes
drifting continuously
I am always interrupted
in my sky gazing,
fingers held down
while tracing dreams
Knocked over and restrained
by more beginnings
There is a square
in the world
that I will find
I am tired of looping
long for a corner to hide,
aching for shadowed secrets
that lie along the ridges and edges
There is a square
in the world
that I will find...
by beginnings,
dragged along
by middles,
all the while ends
float above:
clouds of various shapes
drifting continuously
I am always interrupted
in my sky gazing,
fingers held down
while tracing dreams
Knocked over and restrained
by more beginnings
There is a square
in the world
that I will find
I am tired of looping
long for a corner to hide,
aching for shadowed secrets
that lie along the ridges and edges
There is a square
in the world
that I will find...
635 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th Aug 2013 10:18am
7th Aug 2013 10:18am
The Me in Meeting
Words are not truths
are not lies -
falsifiable by their own curve
redeemable by their own integrity
Intention…
Intention designates truths
Instills deceptions
Do not replace intention
with promises,
eyes with hands,
love with lust.
You are not keepsakes
Sights
Or touch.
You are not answers.
There is no human with arms wide enough
to wrap you in assurances of possibilities,
no back strong enough to bend completely
around you
in the forms of questions,
pasts,
presents, ...
are not lies -
falsifiable by their own curve
redeemable by their own integrity
Intention…
Intention designates truths
Instills deceptions
Do not replace intention
with promises,
eyes with hands,
love with lust.
You are not keepsakes
Sights
Or touch.
You are not answers.
There is no human with arms wide enough
to wrap you in assurances of possibilities,
no back strong enough to bend completely
around you
in the forms of questions,
pasts,
presents, ...
666 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Jul 2013 1:18am
30th Jul 2013 1:18am
Dreams of You
The world cracked open
on a dream
emptying fragments of you
But I was so busy
with tape and glue
I almost miss
these thoughts of you…
This touch that you would offer
flickering images
promising ages
laughter and tears
and those in-between stages;
frozen thoughts
hovering in dead spaces
collecting hope
in impossible places.
Soon to be memories
that slice through my soul.
You are someone
I need to know.
on a dream
emptying fragments of you
But I was so busy
with tape and glue
I almost miss
these thoughts of you…
This touch that you would offer
flickering images
promising ages
laughter and tears
and those in-between stages;
frozen thoughts
hovering in dead spaces
collecting hope
in impossible places.
Soon to be memories
that slice through my soul.
You are someone
I need to know.
790 reads
14 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
19th Jul 2013 11:07pm
19th Jul 2013 11:07pm
You Will Write Today
YOU WILL write today. Write and write and write, until blood becomes ink and words ooze from your pores. You will drag the blade of your pen across your veins, let black spill out until it stains forever, every every every spot of innocent white paper, until there is no longer anything in you to haunt the beating of your heart.
You will write today.
You’ll release words like captive birds, watch them bolt from the cage you had so often placed them and revel in the freedom they gain by the movement of their wings. You won’t feel them any longer thrashing thrashing...
You will write today.
You’ll release words like captive birds, watch them bolt from the cage you had so often placed them and revel in the freedom they gain by the movement of their wings. You won’t feel them any longer thrashing thrashing...
1002 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lee
