Submissions by LunaGreyhawk
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction Maiden, Mother, and Crone dipped in a fine batter of mental chaos, deep-fried golden in reserved backwoods-southern bacon grease. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2020 11:37am
22nd Nov 2020 11:37am
spiritus.
every morning,
I awake still tired,
yawning
expecting to stumble past
the din of breakfast dishes
being scraped free
of frozen waffles
drowned
in way too much syrup,
and cracked voices
on the verge of becoming
low and solid
arguing over
who’s riding shotgun
on the way to school
(then.)
my noisy mind
once begged for peace
daily
making my way
towards the kitchen,
to the piping hot
chemical addiction
that kept me
high enough
to...
I awake still tired,
yawning
expecting to stumble past
the din of breakfast dishes
being scraped free
of frozen waffles
drowned
in way too much syrup,
and cracked voices
on the verge of becoming
low and solid
arguing over
who’s riding shotgun
on the way to school
(then.)
my noisy mind
once begged for peace
daily
making my way
towards the kitchen,
to the piping hot
chemical addiction
that kept me
high enough
to...
#motherhood
#LifeCycle
#SelfReflection
39 reads
13 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Nov 2020 7:18am
21st Nov 2020 7:18am
Constellation
ordained awakening
of universal promise,
nebulae swirling
in rapturous delight;
worlds collide against
the sonorous vibrations
of eternity
as sultry reverberation
entices
the entirety
of then and now,
near and far
to constellate in celebration
of universal promise,
nebulae swirling
in rapturous delight;
worlds collide against
the sonorous vibrations
of eternity
as sultry reverberation
entices
the entirety
of then and now,
near and far
to constellate in celebration
#art
33 reads
9 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Nov 2020 12:04pm
20th Nov 2020 12:04pm
We’ll Cross That Bridge When We Build It
how do we cross
a burned-out bridge
that’s been washed away
from the middle?
so much water flows beneath,
my feet are wet
so much blood stains the river,
my hands are red
the stacks of wood
stored on both sides
would have made
quick work of small repairs;
but afraid of giving
too much of ourselves,
we refused to share ~
fiercely protecting our pieces
until we fractured,
becoming the sharp...
a burned-out bridge
that’s been washed away
from the middle?
so much water flows beneath,
my feet are wet
so much blood stains the river,
my hands are red
the stacks of wood
stored on both sides
would have made
quick work of small repairs;
but afraid of giving
too much of ourselves,
we refused to share ~
fiercely protecting our pieces
until we fractured,
becoming the sharp...
#love
#grief
#forgiveness #healing
#forgiveness #healing
57 reads
16 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
19th Nov 2020 6:44am
19th Nov 2020 6:44am
iacio
held to my chest
~ my heart ~
its supple leather
nearly 40 years old now;
I’ve never failed
to dutifully remove
the filth of my fingers
from it’s deep red cover,
stained as I furiously spilled
everything.
a plain-skinned journal
with biblically-thin pages,
gilding on 3 edges;
its paper is crisp and silky
fresh buttery apples in the fall
Exquisite.
the only gift
my mother ever thought
to...
~ my heart ~
its supple leather
nearly 40 years old now;
I’ve never failed
to dutifully remove
the filth of my fingers
from it’s deep red cover,
stained as I furiously spilled
everything.
a plain-skinned journal
with biblically-thin pages,
gilding on 3 edges;
its paper is crisp and silky
fresh buttery apples in the fall
Exquisite.
the only gift
my mother ever thought
to...
#mother
#MentalHealth
#SelfReflection #SelfWorth
#SelfReflection #SelfWorth
43 reads
14 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
18th Nov 2020 1:41am
18th Nov 2020 1:41am
Hijacking the Panic Wagon
yesterday, I had six weeks
to make my cross-country journey
today,
I have ten sleeps ‘til Brooklyn
Fuck!
Fuck!
Fuck.
Exercise One
(Back to the basics)
ground yourself
see
feel
hear
smell
taste
I can’t see for shit,
eyes jumping ship before
I could finish reading
the carefully worded bomb
detonating on boring white
photocopied letter head
I’m surprised you didn’t
lose a few fingers
typing that up
my apartment’s been...
to make my cross-country journey
today,
I have ten sleeps ‘til Brooklyn
Fuck!
Fuck!
Fuck.
Exercise One
(Back to the basics)
ground yourself
see
feel
hear
smell
taste
I can’t see for shit,
eyes jumping ship before
I could finish reading
the carefully worded bomb
detonating on boring white
photocopied letter head
I’m surprised you didn’t
lose a few fingers
typing that up
my apartment’s been...
#anxiety
#MentalHealth
54 reads
13 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
17th Nov 2020 11:10am
17th Nov 2020 11:10am
Packing
wrapping treasures
in thick brown paper,
reuniting each memory
with shelf-mates
snugly resting
deep inside
their cardboard bed
I remember
it won’t be long now
before I’ll take my leave
of the only place
I ever knew the sun;
the shadows mourn,
casting long faces
where effulgence
once blinded me
with its brilliance
I grieve
at last the chill sets in,
ushered by bitter wind
that never seems
to run out of breath;
the...
in thick brown paper,
reuniting each memory
with shelf-mates
snugly resting
deep inside
their cardboard bed
I remember
it won’t be long now
before I’ll take my leave
of the only place
I ever knew the sun;
the shadows mourn,
casting long faces
where effulgence
once blinded me
with its brilliance
I grieve
at last the chill sets in,
ushered by bitter wind
that never seems
to run out of breath;
the...
#love
#grief
47 reads
12 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Nov 2020 9:59pm
15th Nov 2020 9:59pm
The Sky Is Crying
your song, transformed
by the sultry voice
of your beloved Number One;
gifted from those angels
who’d cast their wings aside
for the ripe mortal woman
and had tasted what it was like,
finally touching heaven
from the moment
of my own
transformation
flower to fully flowered,
you were the slow seduction
of my ear-drums,
the sway of my hips,
remembered
as I spent my Saturdays
windows open,
the sweet cool kisses
of the Carolina summer ...
by the sultry voice
of your beloved Number One;
gifted from those angels
who’d cast their wings aside
for the ripe mortal woman
and had tasted what it was like,
finally touching heaven
from the moment
of my own
transformation
flower to fully flowered,
you were the slow seduction
of my ear-drums,
the sway of my hips,
remembered
as I spent my Saturdays
windows open,
the sweet cool kisses
of the Carolina summer ...
#music
54 reads
15 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th Nov 2020 10:57pm
14th Nov 2020 10:57pm
Ad Infinitum
maintenance therapy ~
the marathon of my mental health,
forging an uneasy peace
with a vigilant existence ~
to live
to love
to risk
tearing everything apart
again and again
and one more time, for fun
because I’m addicted
to gluttonous displays
of emotion
anytime shit goes sideways
my shadow is a drama queen, baby
the questions have shifted
when x, what will be y?
furiously working through the steps
before dropping back into the race
fresh from weekly training ~...
the marathon of my mental health,
forging an uneasy peace
with a vigilant existence ~
to live
to love
to risk
tearing everything apart
again and again
and one more time, for fun
because I’m addicted
to gluttonous displays
of emotion
anytime shit goes sideways
my shadow is a drama queen, baby
the questions have shifted
when x, what will be y?
furiously working through the steps
before dropping back into the race
fresh from weekly training ~...
#regret
#grief
#identity
#MentalHealth
#healing
50 reads
10 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th Nov 2020 4:28pm
14th Nov 2020 4:28pm
Rising from the Dead Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up to Be
I’ve come alive again,
found my way out
of this tomb;
a bona fide tale
of resurrection
bearing solid witness
to the spiraling decay
of my grip on reality,
not one soul mourned
my tragic passing
I died by my own hand
after all, amirite?
and now no one
is left to celebrate
as I return
to my rightful place
among the stars,
finally free
No, not anymore
all that remains,
a collection of letters
delivered while I rested; ...
found my way out
of this tomb;
a bona fide tale
of resurrection
bearing solid witness
to the spiraling decay
of my grip on reality,
not one soul mourned
my tragic passing
I died by my own hand
after all, amirite?
and now no one
is left to celebrate
as I return
to my rightful place
among the stars,
finally free
No, not anymore
all that remains,
a collection of letters
delivered while I rested; ...
#sadness
#love
#grief
#MentalHealth
#learning
40 reads
13 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th Nov 2020 7:31am
14th Nov 2020 7:31am
Peanut Butter & Cane Syrup
home is where you hang your hat -
or is it your heart? maybe it’s under
the bed where my boots chill
just for tonight
I can’t remember what home feels like
twelve years old, my birthday
my mother says fat girls
shouldn’t eat their own
birthday cake or else
they’ll never get a good man;
she was certainly right about that
but fuck her for saying it
out loud
the basic comfort
of pancakes slathered
with peanut butter,
drizzled in Florida cane syrup
never fails...
or is it your heart? maybe it’s under
the bed where my boots chill
just for tonight
I can’t remember what home feels like
twelve years old, my birthday
my mother says fat girls
shouldn’t eat their own
birthday cake or else
they’ll never get a good man;
she was certainly right about that
but fuck her for saying it
out loud
the basic comfort
of pancakes slathered
with peanut butter,
drizzled in Florida cane syrup
never fails...
#mother
#MentalHealth
#SelfReflection #daughter
#SelfReflection #daughter
30 reads
8 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
13th Nov 2020 8:29am
13th Nov 2020 8:29am
The Mourning Cypress
let’s run away from here
a boat just for two
resting beneath
the mourning cypress;
kiss my fevered crown,
tell me it will be okay
but for this moment ~
let connection eternal
slide coats of burden
from our cold shoulders
into inky depths,
swallowing our despair
a boat just for two
resting beneath
the mourning cypress;
kiss my fevered crown,
tell me it will be okay
but for this moment ~
let connection eternal
slide coats of burden
from our cold shoulders
into inky depths,
swallowing our despair
#healing
52 reads
8 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
12th Nov 2020 5:52am
12th Nov 2020 5:52am
on any given therapy day
Absence will provide space
for your healing”
she says it as if
it’s true,
hands across her lap
in her prim, white chair
with the fancy turned legs;
I envy her
I wonder what it’s like
to have your shit together
enough to own white furniture
I hate her for the secrets
she keeps from me
locked in an old cigar box,
requiring sacrifice
of my skin
two days a week
just to get a peek
at my identity
just tell me how to be like you
I want to argue; ...
for your healing”
she says it as if
it’s true,
hands across her lap
in her prim, white chair
with the fancy turned legs;
I envy her
I wonder what it’s like
to have your shit together
enough to own white furniture
I hate her for the secrets
she keeps from me
locked in an old cigar box,
requiring sacrifice
of my skin
two days a week
just to get a peek
at my identity
just tell me how to be like you
I want to argue; ...
#confessional
#MentalHealth
#SelfDiscovery #healing
#SelfDiscovery #healing
50 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by LunaGreyhawk
