Submissions by MadameLavender
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
28th Mar 2021 11:34pm
28th Mar 2021 11:34pm
The Groundskeeper
Sometimes, I hum a few notes
for nostalgia—
(when no one’s around…)
I figure I’m old enough, now
to be unrecognizable
(I just wanted to hear the cars hiss by my window…)
so I get daring
(sometimes)
and tip back my hat from my weather-worn face
when the tourists come.
Cameras froze me in time
(and her, too….)
and that’s how the world remembers us—
not like the grandparents we are, now.
(the world, the world—I really didn’t want it, “now”….)
You see, we live right over there
and I’ve been the...
for nostalgia—
(when no one’s around…)
I figure I’m old enough, now
to be unrecognizable
(I just wanted to hear the cars hiss by my window…)
so I get daring
(sometimes)
and tip back my hat from my weather-worn face
when the tourists come.
Cameras froze me in time
(and her, too….)
and that’s how the world remembers us—
not like the grandparents we are, now.
(the world, the world—I really didn’t want it, “now”….)
You see, we live right over there
and I’ve been the...
#family
53 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Mar 2021 7:06pm
6th Mar 2021 7:06pm
Baptismal Fonts Of Life
She came to me, each month
sometimes when the moon was full,
sometimes with a vengeance.
She would have stories to tell, Aunty--
and they came in whispers
upon her lips;
red stories of battles
and pain in the fullness of childbirth
and of life.
"Ssshhh-- sit down again, child
and let me tell you another, as
time is measured in days."
Aunty cradled me in plump arms
puffed and womb-like, until
waves of contractions
passed unused parts of me,
clots of DNA
not needed this time. ...
sometimes when the moon was full,
sometimes with a vengeance.
She would have stories to tell, Aunty--
and they came in whispers
upon her lips;
red stories of battles
and pain in the fullness of childbirth
and of life.
"Ssshhh-- sit down again, child
and let me tell you another, as
time is measured in days."
Aunty cradled me in plump arms
puffed and womb-like, until
waves of contractions
passed unused parts of me,
clots of DNA
not needed this time. ...
#LifeCycle
80 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Feb 2021 2:05am
21st Feb 2021 2:05am
Bedward
What have I done
with another day?
Relics from times when music
wasn't atrocious
flood my vehicle with raw voices --
And me, one bead
on highways of abacus strings
zipping
back and forth
'twixt the frame of work and sleep.
Ah, to drive at night
when few souls are conscious ..
I own the roadways , then,
until I give into
routines of slumber , each
feline, in their places
among my bedding , where
it no longer matters
what happened to the hours .
with another day?
Relics from times when music
wasn't atrocious
flood my vehicle with raw voices --
And me, one bead
on highways of abacus strings
zipping
back and forth
'twixt the frame of work and sleep.
Ah, to drive at night
when few souls are conscious ..
I own the roadways , then,
until I give into
routines of slumber , each
feline, in their places
among my bedding , where
it no longer matters
what happened to the hours .
#sleep
49 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Feb 2021 1:54am
21st Feb 2021 1:54am
"Swithe Me Therefore", Reeks of Spoofery
Hark, ye lovesick heathens
of Castle Anthrax--
your night hath arrived , and
your knight, has arisen!
Anoint him with elderberries
and coconuts, for
your spanks are but flesh wounds
upon his heart of armor.
Rejoice! O'harpies of lust, for
the grail hath fallen into your hands
at last
with a whispered password :
" 'Tis nine meters per hour
as the unladen swallow, flies".
of Castle Anthrax--
your night hath arrived , and
your knight, has arisen!
Anoint him with elderberries
and coconuts, for
your spanks are but flesh wounds
upon his heart of armor.
Rejoice! O'harpies of lust, for
the grail hath fallen into your hands
at last
with a whispered password :
" 'Tis nine meters per hour
as the unladen swallow, flies".
#funny
58 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
12th Feb 2021 9:32pm
12th Feb 2021 9:32pm
For A Short While
Funny, how
life drags us down roads, kicking
and screaming—
two immense years, then
I forgot to put blood
on my doorposts
in our giddiness of amour, so
the Angel of Death, indeed
knew where to come knocking.
Off you went, having been
someone’s firstborn, but
no stranger to inevitables, and
the one who loved me
the most.
The tales, you told—
all of them, true, and
I would have gladly cleaned up
after your nights of heroin and vomit, had
I known you, then.
But I did pluck...
life drags us down roads, kicking
and screaming—
two immense years, then
I forgot to put blood
on my doorposts
in our giddiness of amour, so
the Angel of Death, indeed
knew where to come knocking.
Off you went, having been
someone’s firstborn, but
no stranger to inevitables, and
the one who loved me
the most.
The tales, you told—
all of them, true, and
I would have gladly cleaned up
after your nights of heroin and vomit, had
I known you, then.
But I did pluck...
#love
#death
64 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
7th Feb 2021 8:45pm
7th Feb 2021 8:45pm
Sister
So you didn’t grasp it, the
first time, you became
a statistic at the end of his fist
…and…
went back for another round?
(Yes, he was STILL not only the asshole,
but also the hair around it.)
His balls belong in a meat grinder.
It looks like YOU might’ve grown a pair, though
(or started to)
because you left him (again)
hopefully for good (this time).
I love you, Sis, but
I really want to shake women like you
by the shoulders
and scream into your face, while
watching your head,...
first time, you became
a statistic at the end of his fist
…and…
went back for another round?
(Yes, he was STILL not only the asshole,
but also the hair around it.)
His balls belong in a meat grinder.
It looks like YOU might’ve grown a pair, though
(or started to)
because you left him (again)
hopefully for good (this time).
I love you, Sis, but
I really want to shake women like you
by the shoulders
and scream into your face, while
watching your head,...
#sister
67 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
4th Feb 2021 7:50pm
4th Feb 2021 7:50pm
Letters
Alas, my soul
Beckons and
Calls, to your
Depths—
Embrace what I am
For I have
Girded up my
Heart, and with my brave
Inkwell, I
Jot these
Knowing
Letters to you.
My thoughts,
Never before,
Opened to this
Pinnacle—
Quick!
Run with me on
Shores and
Take me
Under your
Vast
Waves, where searchlights of
Xenon lamps, burn away
Years of hurts, restoring my
Zeal to love.
Beckons and
Calls, to your
Depths—
Embrace what I am
For I have
Girded up my
Heart, and with my brave
Inkwell, I
Jot these
Knowing
Letters to you.
My thoughts,
Never before,
Opened to this
Pinnacle—
Quick!
Run with me on
Shores and
Take me
Under your
Vast
Waves, where searchlights of
Xenon lamps, burn away
Years of hurts, restoring my
Zeal to love.
#love
71 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
30th Jan 2021 6:39pm
30th Jan 2021 6:39pm
Wind In A Cloudless Sky
Enigma" was the best one , though
"frightening " was perversely pleasing --
words used to describe me, like "unflappable ".
My thoughts are subatomic.
Darkly ordered, where I always come out,
the bruised heroine
(but not without imagining a handful of ways
to watch a few choice people, die, while
I eat popcorn)
Sometimes, I think Jesus weeps
at the convictions
I put upon myself, for
(shyly) anticipating evils that should
befall on those who deserve them .
(But then, again , He laughs at...
"frightening " was perversely pleasing --
words used to describe me, like "unflappable ".
My thoughts are subatomic.
Darkly ordered, where I always come out,
the bruised heroine
(but not without imagining a handful of ways
to watch a few choice people, die, while
I eat popcorn)
Sometimes, I think Jesus weeps
at the convictions
I put upon myself, for
(shyly) anticipating evils that should
befall on those who deserve them .
(But then, again , He laughs at...
#identity
68 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Jan 2021 11:26pm
28th Jan 2021 11:26pm
If Ashes Could Speak
Would you listen,
to what they have to tell?
Devils come in many forms
destroying, conquering, annihilating
yet the remnant lives on.
Shabbat shalom—your souls and spirits
cannot be cancelled, and
the great cloud of witnesses have taken you in.
Glory to the God Most High, who’s breath
makes all things new from dust and ash.
to what they have to tell?
Devils come in many forms
destroying, conquering, annihilating
yet the remnant lives on.
Shabbat shalom—your souls and spirits
cannot be cancelled, and
the great cloud of witnesses have taken you in.
Glory to the God Most High, who’s breath
makes all things new from dust and ash.
#war
58 reads
7 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Jan 2021 11:12pm
28th Jan 2021 11:12pm
Riding Trains in NYC
Sidewalks and subways, stank
with piss and sweat
but your smile is burned
in my soul, forever.
I was alive, for once
that day
on the crowded train
in your arms, between
jostling humanity.
And the realization came, that
this is what it feels like
to be loved.
I let down my walls, invited
you in, blissfully clueless
that our time together
would be shortened
like a sucker punch
when your heart would give out
a year later.
We lived a lifetime, in
those seconds.
with piss and sweat
but your smile is burned
in my soul, forever.
I was alive, for once
that day
on the crowded train
in your arms, between
jostling humanity.
And the realization came, that
this is what it feels like
to be loved.
I let down my walls, invited
you in, blissfully clueless
that our time together
would be shortened
like a sucker punch
when your heart would give out
a year later.
We lived a lifetime, in
those seconds.
#love
70 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Jan 2021 10:10pm
12th Jan 2021 10:10pm
Coronation
i.
The Office of the President Elect—
such laughable things, do not exist, save
in minds of those who’ve elected themselves.
ii.
All (heil) hail, the lumber sale!
Build a throne, call oneself a
King
at a bargain price of shattered trust.
iii.
When do we wake up, to
see that the American Dream
is not just a dream?
WE demand a recount.
The Office of the President Elect—
such laughable things, do not exist, save
in minds of those who’ve elected themselves.
ii.
All (heil) hail, the lumber sale!
Build a throne, call oneself a
King
at a bargain price of shattered trust.
iii.
When do we wake up, to
see that the American Dream
is not just a dream?
WE demand a recount.
#politics
89 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
8th Jan 2021 2:37am
8th Jan 2021 2:37am
The Pause
Heaven paused and held its breath,
the Warrior stood to draw his bow
and sighted on the certain death ;
Heaven paused and held its breath.
The arrow sails, the foe's bereft--
for what they've reaped, is what they've sown.
Heaven paused and held its breath,
the Warrior stood to draw his bow.
O' hearken now, these words of woe,
the prophets' words upon the land;
the Red Sea swallowed Pharoah, whole,
O' hearken now , these words of woe.
The passage 'twixt the waves did show
a narrow road upon dry sand--
O' hearken now,...
the Warrior stood to draw his bow
and sighted on the certain death ;
Heaven paused and held its breath.
The arrow sails, the foe's bereft--
for what they've reaped, is what they've sown.
Heaven paused and held its breath,
the Warrior stood to draw his bow.
O' hearken now, these words of woe,
the prophets' words upon the land;
the Red Sea swallowed Pharoah, whole,
O' hearken now , these words of woe.
The passage 'twixt the waves did show
a narrow road upon dry sand--
O' hearken now,...
#war
#faith
102 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by MadameLavender
