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.
...I hope (journal entry 12/7/2020)
leaves, luscious green
whisper my name, softly
southern harmony, a cappella
bending branch to kiss my face
with warm lips that feel like
home
~
so close I can feel
wet, heavy air tickling my nose
as I lay in this limbo-place,
dreaming of a life of my own
to render in truth and love
or to regret in disappointment
and sorrow;
the choice is finally mine
~
longing for space
where I haven’t
fucked everything up
a hundred different ways;
a true clean slate
in a world where...
whisper my name, softly
southern harmony, a cappella
bending branch to kiss my face
with warm lips that feel like
home
~
so close I can feel
wet, heavy air tickling my nose
as I lay in this limbo-place,
dreaming of a life of my own
to render in truth and love
or to regret in disappointment
and sorrow;
the choice is finally mine
~
longing for space
where I haven’t
fucked everything up
a hundred different ways;
a true clean slate
in a world where...
#depression
#hope
#dreams
#LifeStruggles
#LifeGoals
163 reads
2 Comments
Southern Geneology
warm, gold-brown hazel
Cherokee-almond eyes
a stained glass window,
reflecting ancestral wisdom
gathered most glorious ~
every soul-palace corner
furnished in absolute honesty;
chandelier compassion
casting warm embraces
upon all who crossed
her well-worn path
she was who she was;
you’d make no mistake
about that
else you’d catch
a snap from
her ever-ready
Benjamin Franklin 5 & Dime
plastic fly-swatter ~
the perfect tool
for afternoon after-storm
kamikaze flies
and...
Cherokee-almond eyes
a stained glass window,
reflecting ancestral wisdom
gathered most glorious ~
every soul-palace corner
furnished in absolute honesty;
chandelier compassion
casting warm embraces
upon all who crossed
her well-worn path
she was who she was;
you’d make no mistake
about that
else you’d catch
a snap from
her ever-ready
Benjamin Franklin 5 & Dime
plastic fly-swatter ~
the perfect tool
for afternoon after-storm
kamikaze flies
and...
#family
#memories
161 reads
5 Comments
Will be.
space exists
tenuously
between there
and here
what is and what will
be
child into full-grown
facilitated by self-awareness
and fueled by intention
new love springs green
where old love fades
as decaying detritus ~
lessons learned
truths accepted
make fertile soil
for healthy
grafting
of one heart
to another
there is love and there will be
love
tenuously
between there
and here
what is and what will
be
child into full-grown
facilitated by self-awareness
and fueled by intention
new love springs green
where old love fades
as decaying detritus ~
lessons learned
truths accepted
make fertile soil
for healthy
grafting
of one heart
to another
there is love and there will be
love
#love
#SelfDiscovery
#SelfWorth
214 reads
18 Comments
Untitled
tide leaves the shore~
vacuous aching remains
as grains of sand
I tried to cling to
are pulled from
useless fingers;
I let them go on a sigh,
accepting I will never
see them again
vacuous aching remains
as grains of sand
I tried to cling to
are pulled from
useless fingers;
I let them go on a sigh,
accepting I will never
see them again
#learning
186 reads
15 Comments
The Rhythm of Sky-Space
moon and sun, sharing
across sky-space, expanded
restoring rhythm
across sky-space, expanded
restoring rhythm
#winter
#nature
#love
#grief
#LifeCycle
177 reads
7 Comments
Freedom
.I rid myself
of every
material
thing
ever given
to me
in place of
an
apology...
of every
material
thing
ever given
to me
in place of
an
apology...
#SelfWorth
177 reads
10 Comments
Random Sky Thought-Clouds
sluggish tongue
of cottoned
letters
resting
restlessly
against the hollow
where my thumb
found comfort
for far longer
than I’ve ever
admitted
out loud
I want to charge admission
for all my admissions
I meant to take a nap,
smoked a bowl
instead;
now I really need
that nap
but also, pie
and a glass
of spilled milk
I’m gonna cry about
forever
comfort comes
in as many ways
that become shameful
as it does
in ways
that...
of cottoned
letters
resting
restlessly
against the hollow
where my thumb
found comfort
for far longer
than I’ve ever
admitted
out loud
I want to charge admission
for all my admissions
I meant to take a nap,
smoked a bowl
instead;
now I really need
that nap
but also, pie
and a glass
of spilled milk
I’m gonna cry about
forever
comfort comes
in as many ways
that become shameful
as it does
in ways
that...
#loneliness
#SelfReflection
#StreamOfConsciousness
155 reads
10 Comments
Giving, Random Thanks
gratitude
can be hard
to come by some days;
I’m not sure
if that makes me
more like you,
or less
melancholy
was the best
I could do today;
everyone around me
celebrated
their thanks
to what or who
I’m not quite sure
it is what you make it,
or is it?
I get detoured here
now and then
this year has been
so...
much
I’ve been educated
properly
at a cost
I never imagined;
tuition is outrageous
no matter
the alma mater; ...
can be hard
to come by some days;
I’m not sure
if that makes me
more like you,
or less
melancholy
was the best
I could do today;
everyone around me
celebrated
their thanks
to what or who
I’m not quite sure
it is what you make it,
or is it?
I get detoured here
now and then
this year has been
so...
much
I’ve been educated
properly
at a cost
I never imagined;
tuition is outrageous
no matter
the alma mater; ...
#gratitude
#StreamOfConsciousness
133 reads
8 Comments
Epiphanies are a Bitch
Forever isn’t as long
as we wish until
we believe it to be;
the days fly by
~ the city landscape,
50 mph at 2 am ~
the details get fuzzy
as the days blur on,
one into the next
stormy clouds,
reflected
in rain-soaked
pavement
love is a tricky thing
when we are young,
our self-preservation
takes a right fine shit
on every good thing
we ever attempt;
we’ve just learn’t the world
is painful
holy shit, I’m never doing that...
as we wish until
we believe it to be;
the days fly by
~ the city landscape,
50 mph at 2 am ~
the details get fuzzy
as the days blur on,
one into the next
stormy clouds,
reflected
in rain-soaked
pavement
love is a tricky thing
when we are young,
our self-preservation
takes a right fine shit
on every good thing
we ever attempt;
we’ve just learn’t the world
is painful
holy shit, I’m never doing that...
#love
#hope
#SelfReflection #SelfWorth
#SelfReflection #SelfWorth
154 reads
16 Comments
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
184 reads
16 Comments
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
200 reads
11 Comments
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
174 reads
16 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by LunaGreyhawk