Submissions by Sartoris
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Often I find myself focusing upon time, memory, art, creativity, personal identity, and nature. Wanting to balance evocative, stimulating language with reflection. Blame my incoherence on being raised with 90s music.
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
27th Mar 2020 1:44pm
27th Mar 2020 1:44pm
Maxim, VII.
Many are unmoved by sincerity, until they can display their own.
#prose
#minimalist
418 reads
4 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
26th Mar 2020 2:31pm
26th Mar 2020 2:31pm
Maxim, VI.
Sometimes what is unpleasant can be more sublime than discretion.
#prose
#minimalist
444 reads
6 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
22nd Mar 2020 8:43pm
22nd Mar 2020 8:43pm
Maxim, V.
Always reduce your expression, when possible, to the most necessary ornament.
(25 January 2020)
(25 January 2020)
#prose
#minimalist
372 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
21st Mar 2020 12:51pm
21st Mar 2020 12:51pm
Maxim, IV.
Do not praise versatility, until considering whether it's done well.
(15 October 2019)
(15 October 2019)
#prose
#minimalist
439 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
20th Mar 2020 10:29pm
20th Mar 2020 10:29pm
Maxim, III.
Our misfortunes come gradually, and depart, like an illness drains us; we
struggle to appreciate our new state, while sensing the impact long after.
(24 November 2019)
struggle to appreciate our new state, while sensing the impact long after.
(24 November 2019)
#minimalist
329 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
19th Mar 2020 2:22pm
19th Mar 2020 2:22pm
Maxim, II.
Ideally, one should create with no audience in mind. But since this
is impossible, let us settle for doing so, as if we may be overheard.
(22 February 2020)
is impossible, let us settle for doing so, as if we may be overheard.
(22 February 2020)
#SelfReflection
413 reads
7 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
18th Mar 2020 5:20pm
18th Mar 2020 5:20pm
Maxim, I.
So often, a translucent guilt washes over the noblest intent.
(6 January 2020)
(6 January 2020)
#prose
#minimalist
438 reads
5 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
23rd Aug 2019 7:10pm
23rd Aug 2019 7:10pm
Manhattan Transfer
Recently, I was thinking
of circadian rhythms:
something in the words
brought up memories, or
another misunderstanding,
of which neither
was, especially, relevant—
Outside the greyhound
bus window, that morning,
as passengers fought off
their dreamless sleep,
nothing seemed to have
changed, since the war:
beside weathering coats
of housepaint, that we
consistently passed by,
in what de Kooning termed
the rosy-fingered dawn—
Yet soon, our broad acres ...
of circadian rhythms:
something in the words
brought up memories, or
another misunderstanding,
of which neither
was, especially, relevant—
Outside the greyhound
bus window, that morning,
as passengers fought off
their dreamless sleep,
nothing seemed to have
changed, since the war:
beside weathering coats
of housepaint, that we
consistently passed by,
in what de Kooning termed
the rosy-fingered dawn—
Yet soon, our broad acres ...
#morning
#memories
#PowerOfWords
442 reads
5 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Aug 2019 00:50am
3rd Aug 2019 00:50am
Femmes assassinés en forêt.
Sultry and humid, the day brings
its own tender mercies, disguised
by choruses of percussive song:
as I patiently observe, while often
stopping to caress the rutted
bark, and breathe odours no less
carnal than warm-blooded desire:
but still, the meromictic deep
continues to suppress its secret
from estuary winds: casual eyes
scanning redoubts of earth, who
are, indifferently, searching for
the intractable universe, without
realising their fugitive visions:
leading me to ponder, whether...
its own tender mercies, disguised
by choruses of percussive song:
as I patiently observe, while often
stopping to caress the rutted
bark, and breathe odours no less
carnal than warm-blooded desire:
but still, the meromictic deep
continues to suppress its secret
from estuary winds: casual eyes
scanning redoubts of earth, who
are, indifferently, searching for
the intractable universe, without
realising their fugitive visions:
leading me to ponder, whether...
#nature
472 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
1st Aug 2019 11:43pm
1st Aug 2019 11:43pm
[Untitled]
I should prefer to lie Buried -
In Created mounds - of Words -
Than be ushered - away -
With a sentence of Purcell -
To lie undisturbed - behind
Their spectral Veils -
I would be - Undiscovered -
By the Common gaze -
And speech, which stultifies
Our dearest reverie -
In Created mounds - of Words -
Than be ushered - away -
With a sentence of Purcell -
To lie undisturbed - behind
Their spectral Veils -
I would be - Undiscovered -
By the Common gaze -
And speech, which stultifies
Our dearest reverie -
#identity
#PowerOfWords
#art
568 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
31st Jul 2019 9:47pm
31st Jul 2019 9:47pm
[Untitled]
Often - my Grief will be such,
It needs express - itself - in Song -
As Cardinals, who indicate -
During - the benighted Dawn,
They survived - another Sleep,
By Appraisals of the Sun -
So - a Hymn pervades - despite
The indelicacy - of Some -
But swift Evening soon rebounds -
Across our lawns - Calling -
On the locust, who - continues
With - perverse Delight -
It needs express - itself - in Song -
As Cardinals, who indicate -
During - the benighted Dawn,
They survived - another Sleep,
By Appraisals of the Sun -
So - a Hymn pervades - despite
The indelicacy - of Some -
But swift Evening soon rebounds -
Across our lawns - Calling -
On the locust, who - continues
With - perverse Delight -
#nature
#LifeCycle
399 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
28th Jul 2019 11:05pm
28th Jul 2019 11:05pm
[Untitled]
If we create as many
Contemplations - as there
Are Fugues - and Figures
Within keyboards
The Promise no longer
Dormant - lying in Repose -
Shall its Music - follow
A prevailing Wind -
Or whisper, cautiously -
In Breath - the Inscape of
Some Truth - we dared -
To confess aloud?
Contemplations - as there
Are Fugues - and Figures
Within keyboards
The Promise no longer
Dormant - lying in Repose -
Shall its Music - follow
A prevailing Wind -
Or whisper, cautiously -
In Breath - the Inscape of
Some Truth - we dared -
To confess aloud?
#SelfReflection
558 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by Sartoris
