Submissions by Pigeonheart
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
In Terms of Chess
It didn’t begin with an absolute pin
more like like two advanced pawns tentatively dancing around
the chequers contemplating artificial castling and decoyed attraction
a hemmed in bad bishop
and best play battery
bound blind pigs devouring lost mates
blitzed in blocked positions ...
more like like two advanced pawns tentatively dancing around
the chequers contemplating artificial castling and decoyed attraction
a hemmed in bad bishop
and best play battery
bound blind pigs devouring lost mates
blitzed in blocked positions ...
476 reads
0 Comments
Gardener
I slid between the rose arms
softer now
snowed supple
their ends blushed
and anxious
their winter-stuck
leaves
in brown
paper spades
the bared branches
thrust up
intended to scratch
but I am an early blossom
within them today
3/1/2019
softer now
snowed supple
their ends blushed
and anxious
their winter-stuck
leaves
in brown
paper spades
the bared branches
thrust up
intended to scratch
but I am an early blossom
within them today
3/1/2019
634 reads
4 Comments
Virtual Mute
and if I set you down
what would you give
for me to pick you up
you’ve been my muse
with all the time we’ve just virtually spent
I’m tipping from engaged to less enthused
are you a moth with wings that
singed the light
am I a mass of peonies
unseen
we sliver as the moon reflecting night
are figments of the shadows
we’ve redeemed ...
what would you give
for me to pick you up
you’ve been my muse
with all the time we’ve just virtually spent
I’m tipping from engaged to less enthused
are you a moth with wings that
singed the light
am I a mass of peonies
unseen
we sliver as the moon reflecting night
are figments of the shadows
we’ve redeemed ...
479 reads
3 Comments
Spring Flower
somewhere between a swollen
bulb and the sun’s forgetful arc
you opened
one afternoon in a five-fingered
white
even purer at the twisted
feet of trees
innocent
as uncounted numbers
or unearthed stars
your serene face
like Lazarus
just wakened
from a dream
and looking at you
I recognized me
bulb and the sun’s forgetful arc
you opened
one afternoon in a five-fingered
white
even purer at the twisted
feet of trees
innocent
as uncounted numbers
or unearthed stars
your serene face
like Lazarus
just wakened
from a dream
and looking at you
I recognized me
475 reads
If You Sonnet
If you could see the leveled fields of me
the morning on me flattened like a table
would you perceive just Kansas or the sea
a flower pressed a wish that wasn’t able
or see a wedge of providence with dressing
a psalmist turbaned palmist or a mime
the cactus in your backside or a blessing
an octopus with arms tied up in rhyme
two headed twin I play with one agenda
an ensemble droned with only clarinets
my reclusive is inclusively pretended
predictable as Leningrad...
the morning on me flattened like a table
would you perceive just Kansas or the sea
a flower pressed a wish that wasn’t able
or see a wedge of providence with dressing
a psalmist turbaned palmist or a mime
the cactus in your backside or a blessing
an octopus with arms tied up in rhyme
two headed twin I play with one agenda
an ensemble droned with only clarinets
my reclusive is inclusively pretended
predictable as Leningrad...
536 reads
0 Comments
True Lunar
Tonight the moon in its starched
phantom white
deceives with borrowed light
and marbles in a steelier blue
it swindled round
and is stayed from decay
by an atmospheric
calm
A cratered obelisk
pulling the shadow
out of stationary objects
nestled in the dark
with showers
of tidal pearls
and I rise up
as well
to my own full
occasion
phantom white
deceives with borrowed light
and marbles in a steelier blue
it swindled round
and is stayed from decay
by an atmospheric
calm
A cratered obelisk
pulling the shadow
out of stationary objects
nestled in the dark
with showers
of tidal pearls
and I rise up
as well
to my own full
occasion
#moon
605 reads
Shell Chess
I watched you play shell chess
the soft rabbit
of your face
studying
the game of cups and balls
composure
your thimblerigs
of understanding
the decoy ducks
you set to float
outside the blind
your shotgun
of concerned cool
to camouflage your naked form
I see
your fascination flexed
and etched politely
in the glass
between your magic
the mechanical gypsy ...
the soft rabbit
of your face
studying
the game of cups and balls
composure
your thimblerigs
of understanding
the decoy ducks
you set to float
outside the blind
your shotgun
of concerned cool
to camouflage your naked form
I see
your fascination flexed
and etched politely
in the glass
between your magic
the mechanical gypsy ...
778 reads
Wet Books
Your simple gestures
are soliloquies to me
I read the tilt of your brow
or a restless swipe of your hair
like a passionate note
my imagination is dogeared
for the turning
some corners folded over
for a second or eighth perusal
but then
who writes the poem
never to end? ...
are soliloquies to me
I read the tilt of your brow
or a restless swipe of your hair
like a passionate note
my imagination is dogeared
for the turning
some corners folded over
for a second or eighth perusal
but then
who writes the poem
never to end? ...
1018 reads
4 Comments
Come Closer
come closer love upon the legs of time
cast out the stagnant evening on the clay
the silverfish of stars are set to climb
and lavenders have licked away the day
Melville found his mother in the sea
and is not every ocean heaven’s land?
Bronte knew in blindness that we see
ourselves inside until we understand
those fickle tricks in atmospheres on earth
the dupe in prism’s color played by light
the transitory nature of an oath ...
cast out the stagnant evening on the clay
the silverfish of stars are set to climb
and lavenders have licked away the day
Melville found his mother in the sea
and is not every ocean heaven’s land?
Bronte knew in blindness that we see
ourselves inside until we understand
those fickle tricks in atmospheres on earth
the dupe in prism’s color played by light
the transitory nature of an oath ...
#home
#courage
1030 reads
0 Comments
Worm Moon
tonight the worm moon
is my left breast
cupped in your hand
the carve of your cheek
as you turn
the back of your head
on my lap
your eye that found me
a perfect circumference
that will know
tomorrow evening
what it will
again become
is my left breast
cupped in your hand
the carve of your cheek
as you turn
the back of your head
on my lap
your eye that found me
a perfect circumference
that will know
tomorrow evening
what it will
again become
658 reads
0 Comments
Unspoken
there is a pause in every fingered touch
a brain in every digit’s probe
hands are weighed
and measured in their lightest brush
and fatter than a word
with curves and way
can we cut
our tongues out
stitch these lips
and stretch a throat’s heart
to a distant seagull’s pitch
meet me in these crumpled sheets
forget the staff
and bar of quartered notes
let flesh be stronger
in its weakest skin ...
a brain in every digit’s probe
hands are weighed
and measured in their lightest brush
and fatter than a word
with curves and way
can we cut
our tongues out
stitch these lips
and stretch a throat’s heart
to a distant seagull’s pitch
meet me in these crumpled sheets
forget the staff
and bar of quartered notes
let flesh be stronger
in its weakest skin ...
943 reads
4 Comments
words
can you feel the summer
bleeding out
in fallen pink ladies
sweetened on the ground
and the sunny wounds
of barren
five starred receptacles
those green reminders
of dropped blooms
tougher than a frost
do they miss the color?
if a rose could speak
in September
would
it pause and break
as I do in this distance
seasons have no mercy
come to me burning
on my skin
as an icy brine would-
make fossils of dim ideas
that grew and bound these limbs
from touching what they...
bleeding out
in fallen pink ladies
sweetened on the ground
and the sunny wounds
of barren
five starred receptacles
those green reminders
of dropped blooms
tougher than a frost
do they miss the color?
if a rose could speak
in September
would
it pause and break
as I do in this distance
seasons have no mercy
come to me burning
on my skin
as an icy brine would-
make fossils of dim ideas
that grew and bound these limbs
from touching what they...
613 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Pigeonheart
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