Submissions by Valeriya (Valeriya Long)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I pull from the deep well for inspiration
DARK POEM
Published
5th Feb 2020 4:12am
5th Feb 2020 4:12am
Make Dirty My Spirit
Roiled, nettled, and stung
perceived as naught,
Odious affectation you
deny
Ostracised, blackballed,
a positive ego stroking
stimulus within your
intended dominion of
monarchy
Matter-of-course is
servitude on the far side
of any practical
Observer
Palsied to wretch in my own
mouth
would take precedence
over any
collaboration
To be in accord with such
actus reus
Is detestable, would make
dirty
my spirit
So fuck you
perceived as naught,
Odious affectation you
deny
Ostracised, blackballed,
a positive ego stroking
stimulus within your
intended dominion of
monarchy
Matter-of-course is
servitude on the far side
of any practical
Observer
Palsied to wretch in my own
mouth
would take precedence
over any
collaboration
To be in accord with such
actus reus
Is detestable, would make
dirty
my spirit
So fuck you
#anger
#corruption
#identity
429 reads
9 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
4th Feb 2020 10:26pm
4th Feb 2020 10:26pm
The Bugle Plays Sayonara
A faceless mother's kiss,
vanishes , her embroidery box,
once filled with yellow jackets
and bennies it's quantity sufficient to satisfy anyone,
sits empty,
Splintered arbor leans, over
new harvest of cabbages,
layers of ugly paint sloughing
off like dead skin,
told of the umteen times
she had attempted to beautify
this garden space
In the distance a bugle plays
the tune Sayonara as mother
surfaces, outside the dalapidated
white picket...
vanishes , her embroidery box,
once filled with yellow jackets
and bennies it's quantity sufficient to satisfy anyone,
sits empty,
Splintered arbor leans, over
new harvest of cabbages,
layers of ugly paint sloughing
off like dead skin,
told of the umteen times
she had attempted to beautify
this garden space
In the distance a bugle plays
the tune Sayonara as mother
surfaces, outside the dalapidated
white picket...
#LifeCycle
552 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
4th Feb 2020 2:18am
4th Feb 2020 2:18am
Clepsydra Runs Dry
Clepsydra winds down
Drops drip, into the wet
channel
A hum, a vibration felt,
through the airwaves
Stroke, each down stroke
another drop, of liquid.
Hard marble pillars,
Immovable.
Columbine winds herself,
around solid footing
Shades of pink, with hues
of darkened mauve,
it's gates
open
to one visitor
He arrives early, soft
cloth hanging, from his
belt
He stoops low
between strong legs
polishing
each jewel
before moving on
...
Drops drip, into the wet
channel
A hum, a vibration felt,
through the airwaves
Stroke, each down stroke
another drop, of liquid.
Hard marble pillars,
Immovable.
Columbine winds herself,
around solid footing
Shades of pink, with hues
of darkened mauve,
it's gates
open
to one visitor
He arrives early, soft
cloth hanging, from his
belt
He stoops low
between strong legs
polishing
each jewel
before moving on
...
#love
#lust
540 reads
6 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
3rd Feb 2020 2:32am
3rd Feb 2020 2:32am
Rusty Bottom of Filth
Warm, muddy cloth
of perversion
wraps you
Pain relieved.....
Judgement swells
crawling pleasure
seeks a deeper
Level
You smile
It wears a mask
of goodness
Hide away,
drowning in self
gratification , destroys
Digs through
the rusty bottom
of filth
Bare hands trenching
Into your mind
Into
the darkest
parts of you
I cannot come
with you
this need you have
is not
of my choosing
Occasionally
I may
peek...
of perversion
wraps you
Pain relieved.....
Judgement swells
crawling pleasure
seeks a deeper
Level
You smile
It wears a mask
of goodness
Hide away,
drowning in self
gratification , destroys
Digs through
the rusty bottom
of filth
Bare hands trenching
Into your mind
Into
the darkest
parts of you
I cannot come
with you
this need you have
is not
of my choosing
Occasionally
I may
peek...
#MentalHealth
553 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Feb 2020 6:54am
1st Feb 2020 6:54am
Forever is Woven in Gold
Come with me,
my love
while the world is asleep,
where clouds like wreaths
hide the moon.
Where oceans claim
tears from hearts,
that weep,
to return them as pearls
by noon
Your skin my love
like liquid gold,
tastes
like honey and milk
I drink you in,
with loves
shadowy dreams,
in various colors
of silk
I weave these wings
of promise for you
From strands of white
silver and gold
Within these wings
is a promise foretold
A...
my love
while the world is asleep,
where clouds like wreaths
hide the moon.
Where oceans claim
tears from hearts,
that weep,
to return them as pearls
by noon
Your skin my love
like liquid gold,
tastes
like honey and milk
I drink you in,
with loves
shadowy dreams,
in various colors
of silk
I weave these wings
of promise for you
From strands of white
silver and gold
Within these wings
is a promise foretold
A...
#love
614 reads
10 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
29th Jan 2020 8:17pm
29th Jan 2020 8:17pm
The Deep South
The farmhouse of my ancestors,
a magnificent Antebellum, built
before the civil war
Fierce, southern spirit alive,
the smell of fear and shame
blows through the old tobacco
fields and giant willows
where Spanish moss hangs
morbidly.
Balconies, columns, pillars,
and a grand entrance, covered
porches, elegant staircases,
a representative
of power and idealism.
I was the last living relative,
this old house had
This infamous southern town ...
a magnificent Antebellum, built
before the civil war
Fierce, southern spirit alive,
the smell of fear and shame
blows through the old tobacco
fields and giant willows
where Spanish moss hangs
morbidly.
Balconies, columns, pillars,
and a grand entrance, covered
porches, elegant staircases,
a representative
of power and idealism.
I was the last living relative,
this old house had
This infamous southern town ...
#fiction
#historical
434 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
28th Jan 2020 9:34pm
28th Jan 2020 9:34pm
Blind mute
Stark white linen hangs,
from ligaments, a cohesive
weld with a twist of cartiledge
binding, the wicked in an
orgy of floccillation.
Tattered prayer cloths, exposed
erect near the steeple
where children no longer
play
Lying instead where morning
glories lose their heads
Esthesis in a mottled sky,
carried by East wind
Dogs teeth chaw ptyalise
the cud of dead persona
Four bearded elders stand,
empty
sewing the eyelids
shut of one another
Their tongues removed by ...
from ligaments, a cohesive
weld with a twist of cartiledge
binding, the wicked in an
orgy of floccillation.
Tattered prayer cloths, exposed
erect near the steeple
where children no longer
play
Lying instead where morning
glories lose their heads
Esthesis in a mottled sky,
carried by East wind
Dogs teeth chaw ptyalise
the cud of dead persona
Four bearded elders stand,
empty
sewing the eyelids
shut of one another
Their tongues removed by ...
#abuse
495 reads
2 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
28th Jan 2020 8:52pm
28th Jan 2020 8:52pm
She's my Pretty Little Whore
#sexy
645 reads
14 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
27th Jan 2020 1:08am
27th Jan 2020 1:08am
Day Old Cherry Pie
Reflections of me are hard
to find nerve endings unwind
around crystal stemware.
It felt good to rest my feet
on ice picks with mis-matched
handles. juice from day old
cherry pie stains my lips
and my teeth.
Cash due on the rental of a
two- ton floor jack painted
blue it holds the structure
I've built around my heart,
built with resilience and
a pallet load of quilted velvet
and rebar.
I sat looking into pieces of
a vintage chandelier cracked
the plating worn away ...
to find nerve endings unwind
around crystal stemware.
It felt good to rest my feet
on ice picks with mis-matched
handles. juice from day old
cherry pie stains my lips
and my teeth.
Cash due on the rental of a
two- ton floor jack painted
blue it holds the structure
I've built around my heart,
built with resilience and
a pallet load of quilted velvet
and rebar.
I sat looking into pieces of
a vintage chandelier cracked
the plating worn away ...
#loneliness
487 reads
8 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th Jan 2020 11:06pm
26th Jan 2020 11:06pm
Cross stitch the Slanted Horizon
Pitted glass,
colly blue rain
suffocates, thick
viscous
matter.
The stain,
of yesterday's
sorrow,
imperfectly learned,
restates itself behind
a windowless
fortress.
Eyepiece fits snug,
into your socket,
black enameled
kaleidoscope
photographs , turn
in a fixed
cyclic order, someone
who once looked like
you
smiles falling out of place
Hope,
stolen, sullen barricaded
below the slanted horizon.
stalled, behind ...
colly blue rain
suffocates, thick
viscous
matter.
The stain,
of yesterday's
sorrow,
imperfectly learned,
restates itself behind
a windowless
fortress.
Eyepiece fits snug,
into your socket,
black enameled
kaleidoscope
photographs , turn
in a fixed
cyclic order, someone
who once looked like
you
smiles falling out of place
Hope,
stolen, sullen barricaded
below the slanted horizon.
stalled, behind ...
#sadness
#grief
#death #denial
#death #denial
383 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th Jan 2020 7:15am
26th Jan 2020 7:15am
Thoughts Dipped In Gold
I once had thoughts of you
dipped in gold, placed
in the forefront of my
mind.
Now, they are stored, recessed
to the back alongside bad
childhood memories those
of which hold no value
I should cash in on those
worthless gold leafed
thoughts of you
they mean nothing to me
Although they might be
worth a pack of smokes.
To a poet
dipped in gold, placed
in the forefront of my
mind.
Now, they are stored, recessed
to the back alongside bad
childhood memories those
of which hold no value
I should cash in on those
worthless gold leafed
thoughts of you
they mean nothing to me
Although they might be
worth a pack of smokes.
To a poet
#love
485 reads
8 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
24th Jan 2020 6:59pm
24th Jan 2020 6:59pm
Beautifully Grotesque
Fire burns bright
burning her from the inside
Lights the face of rage
Standing
on the back of the nice one
who makes everything alright
Weakness
never got her anywhere
Chasing rainbows all the pretty
little things nice girls like lay
in a pile
Rusted
broken, lying around like a
corroded symbol of death
Building
strength from pain fortified
with anger
The worthless little cottage
called life crumbling into fake
reality stumbling over what ...
burning her from the inside
Lights the face of rage
Standing
on the back of the nice one
who makes everything alright
Weakness
never got her anywhere
Chasing rainbows all the pretty
little things nice girls like lay
in a pile
Rusted
broken, lying around like a
corroded symbol of death
Building
strength from pain fortified
with anger
The worthless little cottage
called life crumbling into fake
reality stumbling over what ...
#depression
506 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Valeriya (Valeriya Long)
