Submissions by Penguinphile (Ab.C.)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Nov 2021 1:58pm
19th Nov 2021 1:58pm
Grief
She lands with the others, but now has turned away
without ruffling this pond. Each feather carries its own
reflection, wings tucked, tails up, self-involved,
unaware that she is drifting clumsy and tired
into a marshy space. You watch, guessing at the patterns
beneath the surface, how legs rhythmically punch webs
through water, the complicated currents she cannot navigate.
Her hollow bones fill with heaviness. The others move on.
She drifts away in the open, abandoned like the egg
that never hatched, the unfamiliar...
without ruffling this pond. Each feather carries its own
reflection, wings tucked, tails up, self-involved,
unaware that she is drifting clumsy and tired
into a marshy space. You watch, guessing at the patterns
beneath the surface, how legs rhythmically punch webs
through water, the complicated currents she cannot navigate.
Her hollow bones fill with heaviness. The others move on.
She drifts away in the open, abandoned like the egg
that never hatched, the unfamiliar...
#sadness
#grief
#despair
424 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Oct 2021 4:13pm
18th Oct 2021 4:13pm
Rhythm O (Marina Abramovic)
Rhythm O was a 6 hour work of performance art by Serbian artist Marina Abramovic in Studio Morra, Naples in 1974. The work involved Abramovic standing still while the audience was invited to do whatever they wished, using one of 72 objects she had placed on a table. These items included a rose, feather, perfume, honey, bread, grapes, wine, scissors, a scalpel, nails, a metal bar, and a gun loaded with one bullet.
I was challenged to do a poem about Marina Abramovic. To honor this amazing woman I am going to perform her Rhythm O here on DPU. The rules of this post are listed below,...
I was challenged to do a poem about Marina Abramovic. To honor this amazing woman I am going to perform her Rhythm O here on DPU. The rules of this post are listed below,...
#motivational
#CallToAction
#admiration
#collaboration
#dystopian
704 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
3rd Oct 2021 5:47pm
3rd Oct 2021 5:47pm
A pretty nose
Whisky hung in the glass of blue
Jaded my eyes but I could see you
Gin in your hand, Gin in your eyes
Gin on your lips, Gin on your pretty nose,
A nose, a nose, not on many faces shows,
Tonight, I saw a pretty nose.
It is very odd that I should suppose
there's no poetry about your nose,
Underneath big brown eyes,
over scarlet lips as it grows.
Like chiseled by Raffaelo with such a pose.
Tonight, I saw a pretty nose.
I only wonder how it goes? When holding your lovely face
On the wings of butterfly...
Jaded my eyes but I could see you
Gin in your hand, Gin in your eyes
Gin on your lips, Gin on your pretty nose,
A nose, a nose, not on many faces shows,
Tonight, I saw a pretty nose.
It is very odd that I should suppose
there's no poetry about your nose,
Underneath big brown eyes,
over scarlet lips as it grows.
Like chiseled by Raffaelo with such a pose.
Tonight, I saw a pretty nose.
I only wonder how it goes? When holding your lovely face
On the wings of butterfly...
#romantic
#FallingInLove
2798 reads
18 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Sep 2021 8:45pm
13th Sep 2021 8:45pm
Simple Life
Do you want a life
that is good and simple?
or do you want the poet's life?
Life on the outside, looking in
Outdoors, smoking a cigarette
in the cold.
Thinking of adultery,
while you watch
the family around the Christmas tree.\
Unpacking your self-esteem
Sticking within those in-between spaces
Emotionally raw, physically unavailable
Self containment at its most crippling
Waiting... Lurking...
A wraith with a pen and paper.
that is good and simple?
or do you want the poet's life?
Life on the outside, looking in
Outdoors, smoking a cigarette
in the cold.
Thinking of adultery,
while you watch
the family around the Christmas tree.\
Unpacking your self-esteem
Sticking within those in-between spaces
Emotionally raw, physically unavailable
Self containment at its most crippling
Waiting... Lurking...
A wraith with a pen and paper.
#SelfReflection
494 reads
5 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
6th Sep 2021 5:44pm
6th Sep 2021 5:44pm
Endeavours
slay my demons
possess me in the thirst of nights
flooded endeavours craving of bodies
melting heat away
sweat it with love
shades of fantasies witnessed in night.
possess me in the thirst of nights
flooded endeavours craving of bodies
melting heat away
sweat it with love
shades of fantasies witnessed in night.
#erotic
507 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
3rd Sep 2021 7:12pm
3rd Sep 2021 7:12pm
A little lesson
Bring
who you were
to
where you are going
and
you'll end up
staying
exactly where you are.
who you were
to
where you are going
and
you'll end up
staying
exactly where you are.
#LifeStruggles
469 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Aug 2021 7:06pm
30th Aug 2021 7:06pm
Slow vessels
sail
the slightly
rippled mirror
of oceans adrift
Between gulfs
and inlets
a blind fate
lowers
the life-sails
of those
who bravely
challenged
Scylla and Charybdis
voracious mouths
sail
the slightly
rippled mirror
of oceans adrift
Between gulfs
and inlets
a blind fate
lowers
the life-sails
of those
who bravely
challenged
Scylla and Charybdis
voracious mouths
#LifeStruggles
618 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Aug 2021 7:11pm
20th Aug 2021 7:11pm
A Cherry Brandy story
I
The roar of noise of a car engine,
a yellow streetlight, a red-light, a cyan led,
a chubby and tired body walking around a gas station.
The silence is the jingling of the turn signal, the dreamcatcher’s there,
hung on the door, the entrance of a too illuminated bar.
The Pacific Ocean is a beast that bites and roars,
the baritone voice of an old opera singer,
so much voice from that diaphragm bent
by the solemnity of those steel notes.
Turn on the radio,
Los Angeles still doesn’t know this song.
Moon is a muse to one thousand...
The roar of noise of a car engine,
a yellow streetlight, a red-light, a cyan led,
a chubby and tired body walking around a gas station.
The silence is the jingling of the turn signal, the dreamcatcher’s there,
hung on the door, the entrance of a too illuminated bar.
The Pacific Ocean is a beast that bites and roars,
the baritone voice of an old opera singer,
so much voice from that diaphragm bent
by the solemnity of those steel notes.
Turn on the radio,
Los Angeles still doesn’t know this song.
Moon is a muse to one thousand...
#night
464 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Aug 2021 3:31pm
16th Aug 2021 3:31pm
Poetic Math
In a pie chart,
I belong to the highest percentage,
a hundredth, a fraction,
a tiny lump of lead,
a permanent unit among one billion
more permanent units
Take my age, divide it by a thousand
(the number I aspire to be), then
multiply by infinite: a null value. The eternity,
The constant is the solitude which accompany us
since our birth, I’m just another variable,
a miscalculation sometimes.
The truth is that I’m better in math than
in writing, but still I’m sure
one of the word birthed by my pen,
by my...
I belong to the highest percentage,
a hundredth, a fraction,
a tiny lump of lead,
a permanent unit among one billion
more permanent units
Take my age, divide it by a thousand
(the number I aspire to be), then
multiply by infinite: a null value. The eternity,
The constant is the solitude which accompany us
since our birth, I’m just another variable,
a miscalculation sometimes.
The truth is that I’m better in math than
in writing, but still I’m sure
one of the word birthed by my pen,
by my...
#LifeAsAWriter
418 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
9th Aug 2021 9:44am
9th Aug 2021 9:44am
Social Meat-ia
Primal chest beating at its finest
Flexing around the fire (emoji)—
The flash of white lights and screens
"Oh she looks good—
I'd like to take a bite out of that..."
"Like" this, "Like" that?
It's the grip around the throat of humanity
Set to stifle the voices of reason among us
But not to worry,
The primordial ooze feels just fine
Just "double-tap" that ass.
Flexing around the fire (emoji)—
The flash of white lights and screens
"Oh she looks good—
I'd like to take a bite out of that..."
"Like" this, "Like" that?
It's the grip around the throat of humanity
Set to stifle the voices of reason among us
But not to worry,
The primordial ooze feels just fine
Just "double-tap" that ass.
#satirical
338 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
19th Jul 2021 11:34am
19th Jul 2021 11:34am
Bonfire Maze
I think that Life's way is well illuminated
Go ahead and ask the flames
where your walk is headed
My path is built of shame and memories
that have gone wasted
Now I look ahead
since what lies behind
has already faded
Burned fingertips that graze the edges
Just me and my empty box of matches.
Go ahead and ask the flames
where your walk is headed
My path is built of shame and memories
that have gone wasted
Now I look ahead
since what lies behind
has already faded
Burned fingertips that graze the edges
Just me and my empty box of matches.
#disappointment
350 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Penguinphile (Ab.C.)
