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!
This Life Is For The Birds
Matthew 6:26 "Consider the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"
I wanted to write a poem about birds.
I wanted to write a poem that shares the song of the Nightingale.
I wanted to write a poem that uses the lonely call of the Rain Crow at dusk.
I wanted to write a poem that shares the drumming of a Woodpecker on a tree in the not too distant woods.
I wanted to write a poem that records the mimicking of the Mockingbird atop a telephone pole....
I wanted to write a poem about birds.
I wanted to write a poem that shares the song of the Nightingale.
I wanted to write a poem that uses the lonely call of the Rain Crow at dusk.
I wanted to write a poem that shares the drumming of a Woodpecker on a tree in the not too distant woods.
I wanted to write a poem that records the mimicking of the Mockingbird atop a telephone pole....
#birds
#LifeStruggles
#myself
48 reads
0 Comments
Ocean
That old ocean,
salty and steady,
its stomach has been churning
since the day it was born.
Blue/ink-black in the depths
of open ocean.
Clear/Windex blue-turquoise green
at the beach, where the waves
constantly sift the shore sand.
That great salt pond that retains
the minerals rivers and streams
have brought from faraway places.
Who are we to know all its mysteries?
We stand at its edge in fear and wonder.
Curiosity and an adventurous spirit
move some to sail out of sight of land
towards the horizon, which is...
salty and steady,
its stomach has been churning
since the day it was born.
Blue/ink-black in the depths
of open ocean.
Clear/Windex blue-turquoise green
at the beach, where the waves
constantly sift the shore sand.
That great salt pond that retains
the minerals rivers and streams
have brought from faraway places.
Who are we to know all its mysteries?
We stand at its edge in fear and wonder.
Curiosity and an adventurous spirit
move some to sail out of sight of land
towards the horizon, which is...
#sea
39 reads
Straight Answer
ANSWER:
It all depends on a lot of variables
like what hemisphere we're in,
the season, night or day,
the line of sight, wind speed and
direction, the fact that all rifles
have a right-handed twist in the barrel,
so, the bullet will eventually drift
to the right over distance.
Then there's the fact that the earth
is not flat, plus the Coriolis effect,
and the earth is spinning on its axis
and rotating around the sun while
orbiting around the center of the galaxy,
and don't forget that we are hurtling through ...
It all depends on a lot of variables
like what hemisphere we're in,
the season, night or day,
the line of sight, wind speed and
direction, the fact that all rifles
have a right-handed twist in the barrel,
so, the bullet will eventually drift
to the right over distance.
Then there's the fact that the earth
is not flat, plus the Coriolis effect,
and the earth is spinning on its axis
and rotating around the sun while
orbiting around the center of the galaxy,
and don't forget that we are hurtling through ...
#confusion
#honesty
#science
68 reads
0 Comments
That Stunning Mystery
Staring at a blank page.
The pen is ready,
sitting on "G' waiting of "O".
My head is spinning,
trying to chart a path through
my cluttered thoughts.
Trying to spin poetry from
threads of thought,
weave words together
into some form of seamless cloth
with pleasing patterns
that evoke sounds of music.
Something from nothing is the result
of the dreamer's disease.
Syllables in a word soup and salad
topped with a cream sauce
and seasoned to taste.
A wastepaper...
The pen is ready,
sitting on "G' waiting of "O".
My head is spinning,
trying to chart a path through
my cluttered thoughts.
Trying to spin poetry from
threads of thought,
weave words together
into some form of seamless cloth
with pleasing patterns
that evoke sounds of music.
Something from nothing is the result
of the dreamer's disease.
Syllables in a word soup and salad
topped with a cream sauce
and seasoned to taste.
A wastepaper...
#confessional
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
75 reads
0 Comments
Incompatible
i want to know all your secrets
but you remain so distant
as you walk through my fire
on eggshells and broken glass.
You're not made for crying
and I don't understand
as I stumble through your dreams.
Somewhere in the future
or somewhere in the never,
but for now, the difference is the pain.
Our love slightly fades
without a tear or a smile
the way the summer herds
begin to leave the plains
when water starts to recede
and we...
but you remain so distant
as you walk through my fire
on eggshells and broken glass.
You're not made for crying
and I don't understand
as I stumble through your dreams.
Somewhere in the future
or somewhere in the never,
but for now, the difference is the pain.
Our love slightly fades
without a tear or a smile
the way the summer herds
begin to leave the plains
when water starts to recede
and we...
#heartbroken
#LifeAsAWriter
#love #sadness
#love #sadness
225 reads
5 Comments
Never
That concert you didn't attend, and it became a fabled classic
That art you never saw hanging on the museum wall that would have opened your eyes to so much more
The meal you didn't eat at the fancy restaurant that would have been the best you'd ever eaten
That woman you saw on the busy city street only for a moment, but you knew there was instant chemistry there and life with her would be amazing, but you continued on your way, and she kept walking in the other direction
The perfect son or daughter you never had and the love, the laughter, and the heartache they'd provide...
That art you never saw hanging on the museum wall that would have opened your eyes to so much more
The meal you didn't eat at the fancy restaurant that would have been the best you'd ever eaten
That woman you saw on the busy city street only for a moment, but you knew there was instant chemistry there and life with her would be amazing, but you continued on your way, and she kept walking in the other direction
The perfect son or daughter you never had and the love, the laughter, and the heartache they'd provide...
#LifeChangingMoment
#WritingPoetry
102 reads
4 Comments
Sunlight at Just the Right Angle
I looked at an old man and thought
he looks grizzled and tired,
frustrated and irritated at what the world
has become and what he has turned into,
about what he's lost over the years
and of all the women he could have had.
He knows now all is vanity and that he's got
more years behind him than in front of him.
It's a bittersweet surrender.
He still carries a heavy weight
of pain and regret,
and he needs to somehow
let it go.
He looks wrinkled and worn.
He looks aged and if the sunlight shines on him
at just the right...
he looks grizzled and tired,
frustrated and irritated at what the world
has become and what he has turned into,
about what he's lost over the years
and of all the women he could have had.
He knows now all is vanity and that he's got
more years behind him than in front of him.
It's a bittersweet surrender.
He still carries a heavy weight
of pain and regret,
and he needs to somehow
let it go.
He looks wrinkled and worn.
He looks aged and if the sunlight shines on him
at just the right...
#aging
#death
#LifeCycle
#LifeStruggles
#TruthOfLife
145 reads
0 Comments
Days Without Rain
In the days without rain
the pond is down.
The few trees that grow in it
bear witness to what the waterline
used to be.
Dragonflies while the day away
pretending to be acrobats
performing aerial feats for each other.
An occasional breeze sways the small stand
of cattails that grow near the edge.
Their mint-green leaves, long knives,
firm as canvas sails full of wind
on yacht race day.
A young frog sits in the shallows,
three-quarters submerged,
a meniscus outlines his exposed body.
He is still as...
the pond is down.
The few trees that grow in it
bear witness to what the waterline
used to be.
Dragonflies while the day away
pretending to be acrobats
performing aerial feats for each other.
An occasional breeze sways the small stand
of cattails that grow near the edge.
Their mint-green leaves, long knives,
firm as canvas sails full of wind
on yacht race day.
A young frog sits in the shallows,
three-quarters submerged,
a meniscus outlines his exposed body.
He is still as...
#animals
#fish
#nature
#trees
#water
133 reads
4 Comments
The Clotilda (A Day in the Swamp)
When the darkness of my night
provides no shelter from my storms,
I'll use my sunshine to spend a day in the swamp,
to wash my blues away clear to the ocean.
I'll make ripples in the water
on a borrowed boat
running the banks and
exploring the feeder creeks,
while turtles dive from their logs and
alligators smile as they slide into the murky water.
But you'll never see the Clotilda,
not even at low tide
I'll watch tiny orchids bloom,
talk to the cypress trees,
listen to...
provides no shelter from my storms,
I'll use my sunshine to spend a day in the swamp,
to wash my blues away clear to the ocean.
I'll make ripples in the water
on a borrowed boat
running the banks and
exploring the feeder creeks,
while turtles dive from their logs and
alligators smile as they slide into the murky water.
But you'll never see the Clotilda,
not even at low tide
I'll watch tiny orchids bloom,
talk to the cypress trees,
listen to...
#animals
#flowers
#nature
#river
#water
111 reads
2 Comments
You Live in Me
You live in me
In thought and memory
Not trapped in a six by nine concrete cell
But rather isolated in my mental jail
Doing all the things you used to do
You smile at me and I miss you
I put on a show and lie by telling everyone that I'm fine
In reality, I know I'd be worse off if you were still mine
So, I'll leave you dancing on the bed
Reliving those moments burned in my head
I lay down and often pray
For those images to fade away
But over and over they continue to play
Somehow knowing I...
In thought and memory
Not trapped in a six by nine concrete cell
But rather isolated in my mental jail
Doing all the things you used to do
You smile at me and I miss you
I put on a show and lie by telling everyone that I'm fine
In reality, I know I'd be worse off if you were still mine
So, I'll leave you dancing on the bed
Reliving those moments burned in my head
I lay down and often pray
For those images to fade away
But over and over they continue to play
Somehow knowing I...
#dreams
#love
#lover
131 reads
1 Comment
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
253 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
228 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Seed