Submissions by SunshineRedirected (anita marie)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SELF POEM
Published
14th Jul 2013 8:08pm
14th Jul 2013 8:08pm
heat-speckled brown.
When her thoughts came down the blackberry vine
there was
a bittersweet moment of stifling clarity.
And now knots of stubborn regret build in her knuckles,
her mind
buckling around a new concept of self that is not fair.
She has made these scorching days too easy on herself.
clicking on
the air conditioner at a warm breeze, terrified.
And the fruit is squished, wasted beneath her toes,
while she
winces, nauseous, at how so much giving can make you so selfish.
there was
a bittersweet moment of stifling clarity.
And now knots of stubborn regret build in her knuckles,
her mind
buckling around a new concept of self that is not fair.
She has made these scorching days too easy on herself.
clicking on
the air conditioner at a warm breeze, terrified.
And the fruit is squished, wasted beneath her toes,
while she
winces, nauseous, at how so much giving can make you so selfish.
525 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
6th Sep 2010 7:29pm
6th Sep 2010 7:29pm
inconsistencies & sexual appeal.
my stomach is sour.
a shaking uneasiness not quickly fixed by
a pill
or any string of soothing words.
my body is bloating
far past comfort or sexual appeal or human recognition.
my eyes are shifting
looking anywhere but straight ahead of me
and finding comfort in dark places where they can forget who I am for a little while.
my existence is tiring,
tumbling over mixed-up wiring,
fumbling,
and I am gasping for air.
a shaking uneasiness not quickly fixed by
a pill
or any string of soothing words.
my body is bloating
far past comfort or sexual appeal or human recognition.
my eyes are shifting
looking anywhere but straight ahead of me
and finding comfort in dark places where they can forget who I am for a little while.
my existence is tiring,
tumbling over mixed-up wiring,
fumbling,
and I am gasping for air.
1002 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Aug 2010 4:40am
8th Aug 2010 4:40am
The price of postage.
Some days, the world makes more sense from upside-down.
The other night the air was far too heavy, weighted down by fermented things and vanity exhaling into my own lungs.
Feet propped against the wall, blonde hair dangling in unkempt tendrils, the world looks much better from upside-down.
I am far too old.
Time moves quickly around me, and I know too much.
The price of gasoline.
The price of postage.
The price of uncalculated risks.
I also know that
somedays,
there is never enough time, or gasoline.
And that
...
The other night the air was far too heavy, weighted down by fermented things and vanity exhaling into my own lungs.
Feet propped against the wall, blonde hair dangling in unkempt tendrils, the world looks much better from upside-down.
I am far too old.
Time moves quickly around me, and I know too much.
The price of gasoline.
The price of postage.
The price of uncalculated risks.
I also know that
somedays,
there is never enough time, or gasoline.
And that
...
817 reads
1 Comment
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Jul 2010 3:07pm
13th Jul 2010 3:07pm
love is always sharing oxygen
reaching, finding blinding love,
beneath all light and sound.
bequeathed to us, sweet safety
nestled numbly underground.
blood rush, cheek blush, a wanting
wandering hands warming wet skin.
keep your eyes shut tight, deep breath,
because the air is getting thin.
exhale, and I will breathe you in,
if you say I'm yours to keep.
day breaks, rain falls, and flowers grow,
as their roots sing us to sleep.
beneath all light and sound.
bequeathed to us, sweet safety
nestled numbly underground.
blood rush, cheek blush, a wanting
wandering hands warming wet skin.
keep your eyes shut tight, deep breath,
because the air is getting thin.
exhale, and I will breathe you in,
if you say I'm yours to keep.
day breaks, rain falls, and flowers grow,
as their roots sing us to sleep.
792 reads
2 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
27th May 2010 5:39am
27th May 2010 5:39am
a fire alarm, an empty glass
It is hard, you know.
A man, a boy, a kid.
just someone
trying to be who they are.
trying to like who they are being
and finding it hard.
it is hard
to own nothing.
it is harder
to not be owned
by anyone,
someone,
yourself.
it is hard, of course
to find comfort only
in foreign things
a person
a substance
temporary
gilded.
it is hard for someone
to know their worth.
A life of one glass
after another
half empty
never full enough.
A life just begun.
death looming...
A man, a boy, a kid.
just someone
trying to be who they are.
trying to like who they are being
and finding it hard.
it is hard
to own nothing.
it is harder
to not be owned
by anyone,
someone,
yourself.
it is hard, of course
to find comfort only
in foreign things
a person
a substance
temporary
gilded.
it is hard for someone
to know their worth.
A life of one glass
after another
half empty
never full enough.
A life just begun.
death looming...
1131 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th May 2010 5:38pm
15th May 2010 5:38pm
mothers and fathers
The magic of our humanity is somewhat tainted by the pessimists. They masquerade as realists to gain a following and tell children that no one is good; that you should only love someone as much as your pride will permit. News anchors preach bias and censor sensibilities, removing humanity and replacing it with a bloated sense of skepticism.
And the magic and truth are lost.
The responsibility rests solely in the hovering hands of the mothers and the fathers. From child-in-arm three am bottles heated over a sleepy stove-top, to the teary-eyed walk down the aisle when she's placed...
And the magic and truth are lost.
The responsibility rests solely in the hovering hands of the mothers and the fathers. From child-in-arm three am bottles heated over a sleepy stove-top, to the teary-eyed walk down the aisle when she's placed...
804 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
30th Mar 2010 8:37pm
30th Mar 2010 8:37pm
dumpster-diving; uninspiring.
your smile conjures cliche words
sweet, and honey-soaked
like a pot of coffee, yet untouched
or a cigarette half-smoked.
cobwebs on my pen and pad,
eyes dry now for some time
I dumpster-dive for something more
than imagery and rhyme.
contentment's somewhat uninspiring,
a sky devoid of gray,
no water falling to the earth,
the dirt now, dry as hay.
sweet, and honey-soaked
like a pot of coffee, yet untouched
or a cigarette half-smoked.
cobwebs on my pen and pad,
eyes dry now for some time
I dumpster-dive for something more
than imagery and rhyme.
contentment's somewhat uninspiring,
a sky devoid of gray,
no water falling to the earth,
the dirt now, dry as hay.
896 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
12th Mar 2010 5:56pm
12th Mar 2010 5:56pm
locked doors & chemical collisions.
these days,
I’m uncertain of how much time has past
at any given moment of the day
or the night.
and these days
I’m finding myself restless,
counting dew drops and minutes,
losing track as I go.
these days,
I’m locking the car doors when you’re not around
because, maybe, the headlights aren’t enough
to guide me home safely.
these days
scatter my thoughts and memory
a continuous stream of different highs
blurring us together
and these days
are chain-smoked, love-choked,
moments of chemical collisions....
I’m uncertain of how much time has past
at any given moment of the day
or the night.
and these days
I’m finding myself restless,
counting dew drops and minutes,
losing track as I go.
these days,
I’m locking the car doors when you’re not around
because, maybe, the headlights aren’t enough
to guide me home safely.
these days
scatter my thoughts and memory
a continuous stream of different highs
blurring us together
and these days
are chain-smoked, love-choked,
moments of chemical collisions....
905 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Feb 2010 3:05am
23rd Feb 2010 3:05am
blushing in driveways.
something stirring, simple
wrapped around my spine.
you smell like menthol cigarettes;
your skin like sweet sunshine.
your words they linger longer
than your lips upon my own,
they dance across my rib cage
leaving marks upon my bones.
on cold nights your hands find me,
tucked between the stars
blind fingers finding smooth, bare skin
in driveways and in cars.
a buzzing, restless comfort
a warmth I cannot place,
while I sing, "the sound of silence,"
and you kiss my blushing face.
wrapped around my spine.
you smell like menthol cigarettes;
your skin like sweet sunshine.
your words they linger longer
than your lips upon my own,
they dance across my rib cage
leaving marks upon my bones.
on cold nights your hands find me,
tucked between the stars
blind fingers finding smooth, bare skin
in driveways and in cars.
a buzzing, restless comfort
a warmth I cannot place,
while I sing, "the sound of silence,"
and you kiss my blushing face.
935 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
14th Feb 2010 8:50pm
14th Feb 2010 8:50pm
sulk sweetly, my love.
this usually comes so easily...
my mind pouring like honey
from a ceramic pot
heated on a window sill
in the still sun of late autumn.
but now, with winter,
the sugar has crystallized,
its rough edges sharpening my
disposition.
if only someone could
melt my crystallized mind,
on this day of love
it's all I ask....
but I suppose that's
too much to ask of you.
You always lit my fire,
but you could never hold
a candle to him.
the hours drag on
and I am cold,...
my mind pouring like honey
from a ceramic pot
heated on a window sill
in the still sun of late autumn.
but now, with winter,
the sugar has crystallized,
its rough edges sharpening my
disposition.
if only someone could
melt my crystallized mind,
on this day of love
it's all I ask....
but I suppose that's
too much to ask of you.
You always lit my fire,
but you could never hold
a candle to him.
the hours drag on
and I am cold,...
1135 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
14th Feb 2010 6:00am
14th Feb 2010 6:00am
the knight of wasted time.
to turn a phrase about you,
turns my stomach into knots.
to twist my pretty words around you,
sliding over your unworthy skin...
a ribbon of rhyme, in time
suffocating you as it makes its way,
hungry,
down your throat.
you are the knight of wasted time,
wielding your sword of weak excuses
and your shield of obligation,
which blinds you.
You'll never see me coming..
so wrapped up in yourself.
I'll end you quietly,
strangling you with
words left unsaid.
I want to break up with...
turns my stomach into knots.
to twist my pretty words around you,
sliding over your unworthy skin...
a ribbon of rhyme, in time
suffocating you as it makes its way,
hungry,
down your throat.
you are the knight of wasted time,
wielding your sword of weak excuses
and your shield of obligation,
which blinds you.
You'll never see me coming..
so wrapped up in yourself.
I'll end you quietly,
strangling you with
words left unsaid.
I want to break up with...
821 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
2nd Feb 2010 7:01pm
2nd Feb 2010 7:01pm
before the bramble and the muck.
you've got me second-guessing everything
so much that in the forefront of my mind,
before the bramble and the muck
an image flashes of me, wringing your neck.
and I cling to that image with all that i have.
it's all that is keeping me anchored here,
before the bramble and the muck;
accepting your kisses because you have no idea.
no fucking idea.
thoughtful, meaningful prose is hard to come by,
undefinable feelings turning into something cliche.
my hands are cold; I forgot how to warm them.
the bird are singing. I'm miles away....
so much that in the forefront of my mind,
before the bramble and the muck
an image flashes of me, wringing your neck.
and I cling to that image with all that i have.
it's all that is keeping me anchored here,
before the bramble and the muck;
accepting your kisses because you have no idea.
no fucking idea.
thoughtful, meaningful prose is hard to come by,
undefinable feelings turning into something cliche.
my hands are cold; I forgot how to warm them.
the bird are singing. I'm miles away....
917 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by SunshineRedirected (anita marie)
