Submissions by Pishashee
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
"Sitting with the angels who have returned with my memories. " ― Alice Walker. It is a pleasure to be in such company.
Satire for Blockheads
Nothing’s changed much, as the lady’s Yellen and sportin the grey. She talks a lot and says nothing. Watching politicians making statements for public consumption reminds me North Georgia.
It makes me wonder if they have a some sort of a cue that off shoots their mouths. The hooch was good though – admittedly. Keep’em coming lady Yellen, It’s good for the economy. The changes will come after the next election, and the next and the next.
Southerners, Politicians, It took me a long time to figure out that theirs were only words of no deeds to match...
It makes me wonder if they have a some sort of a cue that off shoots their mouths. The hooch was good though – admittedly. Keep’em coming lady Yellen, It’s good for the economy. The changes will come after the next election, and the next and the next.
Southerners, Politicians, It took me a long time to figure out that theirs were only words of no deeds to match...
626 reads
5 Comments
One fine morning
One fine morning a feeble voice
replied from the depths of the sea,
high on the summer’s sun,
I went to the bale of hay
to think of the innocence
with everything winding in;
I wouldn't trade the existence,
in the wash of silence, I woke again.
replied from the depths of the sea,
high on the summer’s sun,
I went to the bale of hay
to think of the innocence
with everything winding in;
I wouldn't trade the existence,
in the wash of silence, I woke again.
629 reads
6 Comments
Elementals
It was the perfect garden service
where gnomes donned lavender hats,
and cherished pales were irreverently
uncrowned – animated children.
where gnomes donned lavender hats,
and cherished pales were irreverently
uncrowned – animated children.
536 reads
6 Comments
Summer's Sonnet
Let winter’s face not fall the brightness
in thine sunshine of summer's shade,
There is a bolt I treasure still
with sweetness in vials of memory,
Where counts not shame for penance paid
in debt to all, and all eternities instill me,
My heart worn well and ten times more,
hence, let it be known it makes me happy,
You knew the gladness life be, my lord;
the absence ―...
in thine sunshine of summer's shade,
There is a bolt I treasure still
with sweetness in vials of memory,
Where counts not shame for penance paid
in debt to all, and all eternities instill me,
My heart worn well and ten times more,
hence, let it be known it makes me happy,
You knew the gladness life be, my lord;
the absence ―...
680 reads
9 Comments
Hubble's Constant
The Cartoon Laws of Physics are originally known as "O'Donnell's Laws of Motion. Explanations are easily accessible through any standard web browser, or, by observing life in laughter through the eyes of a child; innocents age and incidents may vary. A background story for my first induction:
Gravity took over faster
and faster in one movement, only
my face was in the mud, and
my knees were aching, thud!
I wondered…
Why are you laughing! ...
Gravity took over faster
and faster in one movement, only
my face was in the mud, and
my knees were aching, thud!
I wondered…
Why are you laughing! ...
995 reads
19 Comments
I Bow to Poetry
How could one explain,
abiding to the beauty;
robbing the imagery of
thine eye and setting it to glory;
it borrows my heart and soul.
There is no difference, sweetly,
Following one hundred
thousand and nineteen sixty
bequeathing Beatles beating
the beckoned beatnik coterie;
it becalms me, it knows me,
I'm completely bowed to poetry,
abiding to the beauty;
robbing the imagery of
thine eye and setting it to glory;
it borrows my heart and soul.
There is no difference, sweetly,
Following one hundred
thousand and nineteen sixty
bequeathing Beatles beating
the beckoned beatnik coterie;
it becalms me, it knows me,
I'm completely bowed to poetry,
678 reads
10 Comments
The Garden Flame
There was a man looking
through a flower that he
had placed upon his face;
the flower was as clear as flame,
There was a mark in his eye
where an Iris kept the breadth
of reality; it made me think
as the fireflies were dancing,
There are no empty words
beneath the bitter glow;
place them into the ground
with breaks,
as vast as the deep unknown,
Fallen crests; I avail thee not
in frozen solstice of the snow,
in golden stems and alters torn;
take there withered eternal flame ...
through a flower that he
had placed upon his face;
the flower was as clear as flame,
There was a mark in his eye
where an Iris kept the breadth
of reality; it made me think
as the fireflies were dancing,
There are no empty words
beneath the bitter glow;
place them into the ground
with breaks,
as vast as the deep unknown,
Fallen crests; I avail thee not
in frozen solstice of the snow,
in golden stems and alters torn;
take there withered eternal flame ...
780 reads
14 Comments
Who does that to people!
One of my most reflective fears,
is driving alone at night,
and someone popping-up their big
head in my mirror from the backseat;
Why…
Lifesaving, the coast was clear,
we broke in and swam around a minute,
spotlights’ were headed our way,
glaring; my head was spinning
with fear, she left me; jumped the fence,
So did he, all simultaneously,
I concealed myself in smooth transparency,
He walked to me gingerly, he stood and waited,
Impressed with my amazing lung capacity,
"Where’s your brainy...
is driving alone at night,
and someone popping-up their big
head in my mirror from the backseat;
Why…
Lifesaving, the coast was clear,
we broke in and swam around a minute,
spotlights’ were headed our way,
glaring; my head was spinning
with fear, she left me; jumped the fence,
So did he, all simultaneously,
I concealed myself in smooth transparency,
He walked to me gingerly, he stood and waited,
Impressed with my amazing lung capacity,
"Where’s your brainy...
817 reads
10 Comments
Utopian Satire
Clearly I get confused
inside the iconoclastic
tunes that destroy utopias dress;
Let it be... literally.
And so..., it’s only ironic
that imaginary numbers
will be added to the itinerary;
I’ll think no more no less.
inside the iconoclastic
tunes that destroy utopias dress;
Let it be... literally.
And so..., it’s only ironic
that imaginary numbers
will be added to the itinerary;
I’ll think no more no less.
612 reads
4 Comments
You've got solutions? We've got problems!
Admittedly!
I read poetry – I don’t understand it,
Admittedly, begging to be understood;
Butt-a-hole will not catch fire with explicit mind;
Let it out my love, and set if free!
For that bird wert fucking fear sly.
I write poetry – I understand the awesome insanity,
The tethering drops of plundered verbiage,
God is dead, and so I learn from the calamitous stupidity,
Momentarity. And then I give thanks to entice Nietzsche.
I'm so shamefully unashamed, forsoothingly.
And then I giggle a little, for admittedly,...
I read poetry – I don’t understand it,
Admittedly, begging to be understood;
Butt-a-hole will not catch fire with explicit mind;
Let it out my love, and set if free!
For that bird wert fucking fear sly.
I write poetry – I understand the awesome insanity,
The tethering drops of plundered verbiage,
God is dead, and so I learn from the calamitous stupidity,
Momentarity. And then I give thanks to entice Nietzsche.
I'm so shamefully unashamed, forsoothingly.
And then I giggle a little, for admittedly,...
611 reads
4 Comments
Venus & the Damask
There were haunting
vines that were cut,
As Cicero’s broken
reach lingers within,
The lurid Morning glory
chokes the Damask;
I’ll take no regrets through
morrow's hint of stillness;
for was I that planted it,
Fragrant, the Venus stands,
alone on the desk, and Pitiless.
vines that were cut,
As Cicero’s broken
reach lingers within,
The lurid Morning glory
chokes the Damask;
I’ll take no regrets through
morrow's hint of stillness;
for was I that planted it,
Fragrant, the Venus stands,
alone on the desk, and Pitiless.
654 reads
3 Comments
Shakespeare
A thief never
had the courage
to fight, for
nothing but
a happy ending.
had the courage
to fight, for
nothing but
a happy ending.
628 reads
9 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Pishashee