Submissions by Seed
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
My poems are all over the map, mostly free verse. Influenced by everything I see, hear, and read. Don't know what I'm doing, but love doing it! Joined a couple of poetry groups & try to attend workshops to become a better writer. All just for fun!
Desire
Sunday school drifted away as he looked at her. She was his forbidden fruit. He wanted her more than anything else in this world. His mind was transported to fantasy. He wanted her to relax in the bath. He ran warm water in the clawfoot tub. He poured in some Madagascar vanilla, seasoned it with coriander and lime; cedar, sandalwood, and exotic spices from far away lands until it smelled like a thousand flowers from the garden of Eden.
Suddenly someone was calling his name. "Adam, I'll ask you again, what was the first sin?" asked the preacher. "Desire." he answered....
Suddenly someone was calling his name. "Adam, I'll ask you again, what was the first sin?" asked the preacher. "Desire." he answered....
#love
#lust
#erotic
143 reads
0 Comments
House Rules
Me: No underwear on the table.
Her: Always wear a shirt to dinner.
Me: No figernail clippings left on the bathroom counter.
Her: Always clean the toilet after every use.
Me: I'll take out the trash.
Her: I'll wash the dishes if you wash the pots and pans.
Me: Always kiss me goodnight.
Her: Don't steal the covers.
Confessions:
Her: I'm not very good at following rules.
Me: I'll always love you no matter what.
Her: Always wear a shirt to dinner.
Me: No figernail clippings left on the bathroom counter.
Her: Always clean the toilet after every use.
Me: I'll take out the trash.
Her: I'll wash the dishes if you wash the pots and pans.
Me: Always kiss me goodnight.
Her: Don't steal the covers.
Confessions:
Her: I'm not very good at following rules.
Me: I'll always love you no matter what.
#love
91 reads
6 Comments
Post Mortem
I would like to die in my sleep,
peaceful rest becoming eternity.
But then again,
I'd like for them to find me
with a half-eaten turkey sandwich
still in my mouth:
rotisserie roasted turkey
on artisan sourdough
or Jewish rye bread,
with slices of heirloom tomatoes,
strips of thick cut bacon,
mayo and alfalfa sprouts
instead of lettuce.
They will all lament that
I didn't get to finish such
a delicious sandwich.
Then they will examine
my body and they will see
battle scars long since healed
and...
peaceful rest becoming eternity.
But then again,
I'd like for them to find me
with a half-eaten turkey sandwich
still in my mouth:
rotisserie roasted turkey
on artisan sourdough
or Jewish rye bread,
with slices of heirloom tomatoes,
strips of thick cut bacon,
mayo and alfalfa sprouts
instead of lettuce.
They will all lament that
I didn't get to finish such
a delicious sandwich.
Then they will examine
my body and they will see
battle scars long since healed
and...
#death
#LifeStruggles
#LifeAsAWriter #LifeCycle
#LifeAsAWriter #LifeCycle
123 reads
2 Comments
Southern Accent
When she opens her mouth to speak
she goes from zero right to cornbread.
She unintentionally stresses the long "I" in words,
like "right" "night" and "Sprite".
Her southern accent sounds like
she should be barefoot and pregnant,
with a tow-head knee baby and a
dirty-faced lap baby,
living out past the suburbs in an
unincorporated part of the county,
like she lives in a beat up single-wide
house-trailer that has well water and
a screen door that never closes all the way,
and a junk car up...
she goes from zero right to cornbread.
She unintentionally stresses the long "I" in words,
like "right" "night" and "Sprite".
Her southern accent sounds like
she should be barefoot and pregnant,
with a tow-head knee baby and a
dirty-faced lap baby,
living out past the suburbs in an
unincorporated part of the county,
like she lives in a beat up single-wide
house-trailer that has well water and
a screen door that never closes all the way,
and a junk car up...
#identity
#LifeStruggles
#poverty #tradition
#poverty #tradition
79 reads
0 Comments
The Bombay Bicycle Club
It's the Bombay bicycle club's monthly outing
Shall we be going then? Cheerio!
Ring! Ring! Pedal, pedal.
And we're off!
Everyone stay together now!
Everyone form a que!
That's it, single file. Very good!
Ring! Ring! Pedal, pedal
Spokes spinning, wheels rolling 'round and 'round.
Go Go Goa is a tropical dream.
A wonderful day at the beach.
This is Kipling's India.
It's a magical time.
Wire-rimmed glasses and perfect mustaches.
Men in boulder hats.
Women in wide-brim straw.
Ring! Ring! Passing on the...
Shall we be going then? Cheerio!
Ring! Ring! Pedal, pedal.
And we're off!
Everyone stay together now!
Everyone form a que!
That's it, single file. Very good!
Ring! Ring! Pedal, pedal
Spokes spinning, wheels rolling 'round and 'round.
Go Go Goa is a tropical dream.
A wonderful day at the beach.
This is Kipling's India.
It's a magical time.
Wire-rimmed glasses and perfect mustaches.
Men in boulder hats.
Women in wide-brim straw.
Ring! Ring! Passing on the...
#dreams
#beach
#summer
#holiday
#travel
64 reads
0 Comments
Payne Creek
They didn't have to tell me that I should notice all the small things along the path to Payne Creek.
I can't help but notice the tiny things, the sound and silence of nature, the greenery all around, moths and butterflies flying topsy-turvy, the rusty brown pine needles crisscrossed on the ground.
The shy ferns still and quiet hiding in the shade of large leaf magnolias, short leaf pines, dogwood, red oak, and hollies.
Along the upper trail wildflowers daydream without expression on their beautiful faces.
As we descend further into the forest the pine trees...
I can't help but notice the tiny things, the sound and silence of nature, the greenery all around, moths and butterflies flying topsy-turvy, the rusty brown pine needles crisscrossed on the ground.
The shy ferns still and quiet hiding in the shade of large leaf magnolias, short leaf pines, dogwood, red oak, and hollies.
Along the upper trail wildflowers daydream without expression on their beautiful faces.
As we descend further into the forest the pine trees...
#flowers
#water
#nature
123 reads
0 Comments
The Days of Thunder
From the screen porch
I could hear the sound
of children playing down the street
out in their yard,
their talking and laughing
and squealing as children
at play are prone to do.
Also, the sound of gentle
thunder off further
in the distance.
I came back inside the house
to enjoy a wonderfully lazy day.
You took a nap in the morning
and I in the afternoon.
A day when you ask me
to talk to you like rain
and we reminisced late into the evening.
The dog was lying there like dogs always do,
with an...
I could hear the sound
of children playing down the street
out in their yard,
their talking and laughing
and squealing as children
at play are prone to do.
Also, the sound of gentle
thunder off further
in the distance.
I came back inside the house
to enjoy a wonderfully lazy day.
You took a nap in the morning
and I in the afternoon.
A day when you ask me
to talk to you like rain
and we reminisced late into the evening.
The dog was lying there like dogs always do,
with an...
#LifeCycle
104 reads
0 Comments
The Quiet Man
The man next door
Was in his forties
And I was only thirteen.
We talked from time
To time, though
He was a quiet man.
A man of few words.
He didn't want to be
The center of attention.
A man with no ego,
A bachelor, never married.
A humble man,
Protector of the innocent.
At the park
He watched the children
Play and fed the birds.
He picked up other people's
Trash and put it in the bin.
He went to church regularly.
Gave tithes liberally and cheerfully.
He paid the widow's...
Was in his forties
And I was only thirteen.
We talked from time
To time, though
He was a quiet man.
A man of few words.
He didn't want to be
The center of attention.
A man with no ego,
A bachelor, never married.
A humble man,
Protector of the innocent.
At the park
He watched the children
Play and fed the birds.
He picked up other people's
Trash and put it in the bin.
He went to church regularly.
Gave tithes liberally and cheerfully.
He paid the widow's...
#friendship
#satirical
#wisdom
165 reads
2 Comments
If I Could Only Dream
If I could only dream
Then you would know where to find me
You would know that i had left the sturdy stone houses,
And I had left the fading town with abandoned
Tin top houses, overgrown and slowly falling
If I could only dream
You would come and find me
Outside of town, past the wood berries
And the stone fruit orchards
Further still than the glade flowers
Where the honeybees hover and buzz
Near the old, weathered barn,
Where the ditch lilies grow beside the road.
The barn with...
Then you would know where to find me
You would know that i had left the sturdy stone houses,
And I had left the fading town with abandoned
Tin top houses, overgrown and slowly falling
If I could only dream
You would come and find me
Outside of town, past the wood berries
And the stone fruit orchards
Further still than the glade flowers
Where the honeybees hover and buzz
Near the old, weathered barn,
Where the ditch lilies grow beside the road.
The barn with...
#love
#dreams
145 reads
2 Comments
Happiness Never Sleeps
In the shady bedroom I lie on the soft bed which is as cool as the other side of the pillow.
My thoughts scurry and crawl like a nest of spiders and I know there is no sleep in me.
Outside the sun is shining, I have a skip in my step and a pocket full of poems.
Who can deny happiness while the wind is in the branches and the leaves all rattle and dance.
The breeze is on my face and in my hair.
The birds are all singing all around me wherever they are.
The day urges me to do something, go somewhere, be somebody, and I am fully alive!
I can feel it deep in my...
My thoughts scurry and crawl like a nest of spiders and I know there is no sleep in me.
Outside the sun is shining, I have a skip in my step and a pocket full of poems.
Who can deny happiness while the wind is in the branches and the leaves all rattle and dance.
The breeze is on my face and in my hair.
The birds are all singing all around me wherever they are.
The day urges me to do something, go somewhere, be somebody, and I am fully alive!
I can feel it deep in my...
#happiness
#emotions
142 reads
2 Comments
Old Home Place
The old house is sagging and leaning
Slouching where it once stood
The leaky roof has done it no favors
The rainwater has taken its toll.
Dead wood and water are never a good combination.
What use are granite countertops and posh tile floors in a rundown fire trap like this?
Houses have a way of knowing when they're unwanted.
They seem to accelerate their ruin when no one is around.
No more shadows moving along the walls, no more echoes of laughter, no more life in the rooms, or the pitter-patter of little feet running down the halls.
Dilapidated...
Slouching where it once stood
The leaky roof has done it no favors
The rainwater has taken its toll.
Dead wood and water are never a good combination.
What use are granite countertops and posh tile floors in a rundown fire trap like this?
Houses have a way of knowing when they're unwanted.
They seem to accelerate their ruin when no one is around.
No more shadows moving along the walls, no more echoes of laughter, no more life in the rooms, or the pitter-patter of little feet running down the halls.
Dilapidated...
#LifeCycle
84 reads
2 Comments
No More Toilet Paper, No More Matches (prediction from 2023)
We never believed climate change was real back in our day until part of California and the lower third of Florida were reclaimed by the sea.
The fabled city of New Orleans
Never had a chance.
Those with bicycles are envied
Now that all the gasoline is gone.
Fat farmers toil themselves into shape
Or face starvation.
Clean water is scarce, food is gathered or Grown.
Stealing chickens or eggs is worthy of death.
Large houses filled with fine antiques were
Once admired, but everyone knows they...
The fabled city of New Orleans
Never had a chance.
Those with bicycles are envied
Now that all the gasoline is gone.
Fat farmers toil themselves into shape
Or face starvation.
Clean water is scarce, food is gathered or Grown.
Stealing chickens or eggs is worthy of death.
Large houses filled with fine antiques were
Once admired, but everyone knows they...
#LifeStruggles
67 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Seed