Submissions by Quill-in-Heart (Tony Pena)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I ain't no academic though I've been writing for two score with the typical ups and downs. My work seeks intimacy and passion especially as it pertains to the dark and sometimes ugly side of the street. Thankfully beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Jun 2013 6:07pm
6th Jun 2013 6:07pm
Spanish Fly
She loiters
by my lips
soaking in
the carbon dioxide
as if my halitosis
provides osmosis
to a higher being.
by my lips
soaking in
the carbon dioxide
as if my halitosis
provides osmosis
to a higher being.
861 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
2nd Jun 2013 8:36am
2nd Jun 2013 8:36am
Hunter
The blow of the hunting horn
echos off the brittle walls
of a congested artery where soiled
blood makes a red sea with teardrops
flooding the boat. Beast in the wilds
baring fangs, elusive as faith
in the deep rough. A fresh killing
along the orange horizon begging
to be choreographed in technicolor
by Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom
but it's not the prey he's after.
It's the point in the middle of the forest
lit up like a Manhattan Christmas
where your clothes come off and you
reach for the moon with your teeth
to suck all the...
echos off the brittle walls
of a congested artery where soiled
blood makes a red sea with teardrops
flooding the boat. Beast in the wilds
baring fangs, elusive as faith
in the deep rough. A fresh killing
along the orange horizon begging
to be choreographed in technicolor
by Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom
but it's not the prey he's after.
It's the point in the middle of the forest
lit up like a Manhattan Christmas
where your clothes come off and you
reach for the moon with your teeth
to suck all the...
718 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
26th May 2013 7:44am
26th May 2013 7:44am
Liberty
At first the reels
ran like fratboy
fantasies on Friday
nights with tawny
brown curls liberated
from the bun and draped
over the sensuous shoulders
of the lascivious librarian.
Stop me if you've heard
this one before maybe a hundred
times or more since your hand
first found the tickle under cotton
sheets praying Mom and Dad
were too preoccupied
with their own squeaking
bed to pay yours any mind.
Tortoise shell eyeglasses,
designer frames for sure,
eschewed along with her blue
blazer and skirt, white silk...
ran like fratboy
fantasies on Friday
nights with tawny
brown curls liberated
from the bun and draped
over the sensuous shoulders
of the lascivious librarian.
Stop me if you've heard
this one before maybe a hundred
times or more since your hand
first found the tickle under cotton
sheets praying Mom and Dad
were too preoccupied
with their own squeaking
bed to pay yours any mind.
Tortoise shell eyeglasses,
designer frames for sure,
eschewed along with her blue
blazer and skirt, white silk...
897 reads
4 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
12th May 2013 1:15am
12th May 2013 1:15am
Dance, Zelda, Dance
1170 reads
12 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th May 2013 7:18am
6th May 2013 7:18am
The language of storms (Sandyspeak)
1040 reads
6 Comments
SONG LYRICS
Published
20th Apr 2013 5:59pm
20th Apr 2013 5:59pm
Time's Come Due
1020 reads
8 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
13th Apr 2013 6:03am
13th Apr 2013 6:03am
Lit Fuse
I jerked off to a picture of me last night.
A Polaroid from my eighteenth birthday.
A pound of hair on my hard young head,
A half dozen strands on my chinny chin chin.
The guys at work place twenty dollar bets
As to when I'll outgrow this mid life crisis.
What they don't know is I got a do not remove
Tag on all my vices and this shit's been going down
For more than the two score I've been legal
When I first realized what I wanted to do
When I grow up is not to get grown up
At all so fuck the astronaut, the bus...
A Polaroid from my eighteenth birthday.
A pound of hair on my hard young head,
A half dozen strands on my chinny chin chin.
The guys at work place twenty dollar bets
As to when I'll outgrow this mid life crisis.
What they don't know is I got a do not remove
Tag on all my vices and this shit's been going down
For more than the two score I've been legal
When I first realized what I wanted to do
When I grow up is not to get grown up
At all so fuck the astronaut, the bus...
1009 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
24th Mar 2013 8:25am
24th Mar 2013 8:25am
Another in a series of elusive happy endings
1248 reads
11 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th Mar 2013 7:13pm
7th Mar 2013 7:13pm
Urge and Purge
I ain't got the apparatus,
Looks, mettle or game
To give it a go
As a gigolo.
I ain't got the attitude,
Sound, fury or hair
To go real far
As a rock and roll star.
What I got is years . . .
A bona fide
Middle class
Working ass.
A gray and grizzled
Bean counter,
One prescription away
From legal blindness,
Logging credits in a ledger
Tethered to a metal desk
In a room with a view
Of the parking lot
Where pigeons shit
On my minivan
From nine to five.
But I was young once . . ....
Looks, mettle or game
To give it a go
As a gigolo.
I ain't got the attitude,
Sound, fury or hair
To go real far
As a rock and roll star.
What I got is years . . .
A bona fide
Middle class
Working ass.
A gray and grizzled
Bean counter,
One prescription away
From legal blindness,
Logging credits in a ledger
Tethered to a metal desk
In a room with a view
Of the parking lot
Where pigeons shit
On my minivan
From nine to five.
But I was young once . . ....
973 reads
18 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
24th Feb 2013 6:55am
24th Feb 2013 6:55am
Say something stupid, Charlie
Life used to be so lush
On Monday nights at nine,
A good laugh on T.V.
So you can sleep easy
With all the world’s ills
Forgotten by dawn.
Now the new buzz
Around the water cooler,
What everybody wants to know
These dark days
Is what Charlie said.
What was the latest salvo
In the brawl for it all
Between Charlie and Channel Two.
The public hanging
On the words of a star
Self destructing
To maybe half the man
He once was.
Never mind that in this fractured world
Where compassion is needed most
The only...
On Monday nights at nine,
A good laugh on T.V.
So you can sleep easy
With all the world’s ills
Forgotten by dawn.
Now the new buzz
Around the water cooler,
What everybody wants to know
These dark days
Is what Charlie said.
What was the latest salvo
In the brawl for it all
Between Charlie and Channel Two.
The public hanging
On the words of a star
Self destructing
To maybe half the man
He once was.
Never mind that in this fractured world
Where compassion is needed most
The only...
992 reads
8 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Feb 2013 4:18pm
13th Feb 2013 4:18pm
Chattel and Dung
You spend an hour at the CVS
Scouring the greeting card aisle
Hoping photography or some poem
Catches your eye.
A token to prove that you care
While not scaring
Him away.
While he sits on a squalid toilet
By his room at Mother’s house
Thumbing through Tijuana brochures.
Counting the coin
He’ll pocket after chewing you
Up and shitting
You away.
Scouring the greeting card aisle
Hoping photography or some poem
Catches your eye.
A token to prove that you care
While not scaring
Him away.
While he sits on a squalid toilet
By his room at Mother’s house
Thumbing through Tijuana brochures.
Counting the coin
He’ll pocket after chewing you
Up and shitting
You away.
858 reads
8 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
12th Feb 2013 1:49pm
12th Feb 2013 1:49pm
Kissing Disease
Dull pain driving
Through my spaghetti
Of veins riding shotgun
From the modest stone
In a ghost ridden graveyard
To the cliffs of the Palisades.
The Hudson waters promise
Baptism but what remains
Of the bloodletting
Turns rancid in her tin grail
Evaporating in a simmering fog.
It's midnight and the air humid
Like them spicy nights by the river
Swapping secrets and bodily fluids
Till the bleeding stopped
But tonight I only care
To dwell on plans
For murder of the dead.
Through my spaghetti
Of veins riding shotgun
From the modest stone
In a ghost ridden graveyard
To the cliffs of the Palisades.
The Hudson waters promise
Baptism but what remains
Of the bloodletting
Turns rancid in her tin grail
Evaporating in a simmering fog.
It's midnight and the air humid
Like them spicy nights by the river
Swapping secrets and bodily fluids
Till the bleeding stopped
But tonight I only care
To dwell on plans
For murder of the dead.
813 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Quill-in-Heart (Tony Pena)
