Submissions by TheMuses22 (Muse22)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I'm a work in progress.
EROTIC POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2015 11:09pm
22nd Dec 2015 11:09pm
Getting Off (the dirty parts—of the wall)
#dirty
1366 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2015 3:03pm
22nd Dec 2015 3:03pm
the day we went hiking
the reservoir
burned blue
tin foil that bounced beams
of sunshine
between the crevices
of a quartz stone quarry
the bird
a striking Blue
Jay that streaked color
across crumbling oaks
charring to dust
a chipmunk
chips away at a walnut
chattering cheekily
believing himself to be
camouflaged into the trunk
of a white ash tree
memories embedded
into woods that wind
wistfully whispering, wondering
why I was blue
and waltzing through
the wicker wonderland
we waited for one moment
...
burned blue
tin foil that bounced beams
of sunshine
between the crevices
of a quartz stone quarry
the bird
a striking Blue
Jay that streaked color
across crumbling oaks
charring to dust
a chipmunk
chips away at a walnut
chattering cheekily
believing himself to be
camouflaged into the trunk
of a white ash tree
memories embedded
into woods that wind
wistfully whispering, wondering
why I was blue
and waltzing through
the wicker wonderland
we waited for one moment
...
#nature
808 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2015 2:47pm
22nd Dec 2015 2:47pm
The Sea Captain's Wife
Often when I drink my tea
I dream of Whitby, by the sea
But though her curves are sweet and fair
It is the sea, which calls me there.
Her jagged cliffs, remain as gifts
To me in my old age,
While lilac heather and gold together
Traverse across the page.
Up the winding stair I go
Into the heavens grey,
And though it was so long ago
It seems but yesterday.
Still on the wind the salty air
Comes in crisp and cold,
And buried with the gravestones bare
Are secrets left untold.
Beyond the walls of cobblestone
Lie...
I dream of Whitby, by the sea
But though her curves are sweet and fair
It is the sea, which calls me there.
Her jagged cliffs, remain as gifts
To me in my old age,
While lilac heather and gold together
Traverse across the page.
Up the winding stair I go
Into the heavens grey,
And though it was so long ago
It seems but yesterday.
Still on the wind the salty air
Comes in crisp and cold,
And buried with the gravestones bare
Are secrets left untold.
Beyond the walls of cobblestone
Lie...
#nature
999 reads
5 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2015 3:24am
22nd Dec 2015 3:24am
Shooting Birds
Katalin shot you a bird, Mrs. Thomas,”
was all scrawny Craig said.
The eyes of every kid in my class
turned, their heads tilted,
some grinning. And she put down her chalk
with a decisive thud on the desk
and turned to look at me.
I was scratching my eye.
That’s what I told Mrs. Thomas,
or I thought I told Mrs. Thomas,
that somehow I had shot a bird
while scratching my eye,
and that’s why Craig had announced
it to the whole world.
(well, the whole class,
but that was the whole world to me.)
“I...
was all scrawny Craig said.
The eyes of every kid in my class
turned, their heads tilted,
some grinning. And she put down her chalk
with a decisive thud on the desk
and turned to look at me.
I was scratching my eye.
That’s what I told Mrs. Thomas,
or I thought I told Mrs. Thomas,
that somehow I had shot a bird
while scratching my eye,
and that’s why Craig had announced
it to the whole world.
(well, the whole class,
but that was the whole world to me.)
“I...
835 reads
5 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2015 2:08am
22nd Dec 2015 2:08am
The Sea Pearl
The senses are spinning
a gulf sea breeze comes in
through the tight space
of glass doors that reveal
too much, but even if eyes
should pry into the mirror
that reflects the ecstasy
of truth, fervently pushing
to see even closer inside
gazing curiously into the deep,
listening to the loud crying
of seagulls screeching high
watching skin gripping
skin, the pillars of innocence
(the bedposts) collapsing
into the eternal seas of sweat
salt savagely licked
by...
a gulf sea breeze comes in
through the tight space
of glass doors that reveal
too much, but even if eyes
should pry into the mirror
that reflects the ecstasy
of truth, fervently pushing
to see even closer inside
gazing curiously into the deep,
listening to the loud crying
of seagulls screeching high
watching skin gripping
skin, the pillars of innocence
(the bedposts) collapsing
into the eternal seas of sweat
salt savagely licked
by...
#sex
936 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Dec 2015 6:16pm
21st Dec 2015 6:16pm
Suede
You held
so tightly
to that last piece of me.
It was such a heavy
burden to move, but you carried
the load on your back
sometimes with help, sometimes not
yet always believing
it important enough
to take with you each time
you had to change
course. Are you ever leaving
the past behind?
You were always
surprised you could completely
stretch yourself to the limit
somehow managing
to fit your slender six foot frame,
your head falling
down deeply
into the soft suede...
so tightly
to that last piece of me.
It was such a heavy
burden to move, but you carried
the load on your back
sometimes with help, sometimes not
yet always believing
it important enough
to take with you each time
you had to change
course. Are you ever leaving
the past behind?
You were always
surprised you could completely
stretch yourself to the limit
somehow managing
to fit your slender six foot frame,
your head falling
down deeply
into the soft suede...
#heartbroken
996 reads
12 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Dec 2015 5:45pm
21st Dec 2015 5:45pm
1956: Menekülés
Deep in the valley of Portola where
Dust rose from robes which graced the earth with pain
And prayer and beads of pink rosewood did smooth
From fingers tracing every curve of life.
In pews of oak with views of rolling hills
They stared into bare walls until their minds
Went blank—their wrinkled cheeks the paths they had to cross
Just to escape before it was too late.
I listened for carved canes that tapped in time
That held the precious ancient ones aloft
The golden cross was all that did adorn...
Dust rose from robes which graced the earth with pain
And prayer and beads of pink rosewood did smooth
From fingers tracing every curve of life.
In pews of oak with views of rolling hills
They stared into bare walls until their minds
Went blank—their wrinkled cheeks the paths they had to cross
Just to escape before it was too late.
I listened for carved canes that tapped in time
That held the precious ancient ones aloft
The golden cross was all that did adorn...
#culture
909 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by TheMuses22 (Muse22)
