Submissions by Vee (Rina)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
we are nothing but dreams
dusk spreads its wings for the weeping
and my fingers follow slow, quivering
gathering last of dew from leaves
there under the Eucalyptus tree
i see you waiting, golden sliver
in your eyes and metaphors
dripping from your tongue
i drink every word drunk
in yesterday's wine
listening to songs of
your heartbeat before dawn
the tormented ocean whines
at our feet
recedes
greeting with salty kiss
and
i fail to answer your questions
my gaze resting on fallen stars
knowing soon...
and my fingers follow slow, quivering
gathering last of dew from leaves
there under the Eucalyptus tree
i see you waiting, golden sliver
in your eyes and metaphors
dripping from your tongue
i drink every word drunk
in yesterday's wine
listening to songs of
your heartbeat before dawn
the tormented ocean whines
at our feet
recedes
greeting with salty kiss
and
i fail to answer your questions
my gaze resting on fallen stars
knowing soon...
#universe
#nature
#LifeAsAWriter
#LifeCycle
#metaphor
1142 reads
30 Comments
Abstractions
An eye blinks
more times than needed
15-20 times per minute lasting .4 seconds, 1200 times per hour, 28,800 times a day
10% of waking hours adding up to five years of our lives roaming with our eyes closed **
missing all things unseen, greater and small.
Look at me
tell me what you see
am I everything
you have ever dreamed, wanted and desired
do i give your musings wings to fly
blindly all hopes cast to winds:
figment of imagination
a shadow sliding beneath
gunmetal sky ...
more times than needed
15-20 times per minute lasting .4 seconds, 1200 times per hour, 28,800 times a day
10% of waking hours adding up to five years of our lives roaming with our eyes closed **
missing all things unseen, greater and small.
Look at me
tell me what you see
am I everything
you have ever dreamed, wanted and desired
do i give your musings wings to fly
blindly all hopes cast to winds:
figment of imagination
a shadow sliding beneath
gunmetal sky ...
772 reads
13 Comments
*** Senryu
i swim to the light
in deep end of the ocean
floating solitude
rhythmic shallow breaths
fold in useless bones and flesh
origam-a-skin
god of icy moon
feed me spoonful of dirt
city of angels
Entered in Loneliness comp.
in deep end of the ocean
floating solitude
rhythmic shallow breaths
fold in useless bones and flesh
origam-a-skin
god of icy moon
feed me spoonful of dirt
city of angels
Entered in Loneliness comp.
#moon
#water
#angels
#senryu
#sensual
775 reads
11 Comments
Californication
The Valley heat was unbearable
eradicated sunshine
mercilessly manacled the moments slipping
into late afternoon
ghosting life from nature, cement and concrete.
The road curved by the hills offering some cool breeze
skyview of the city
on one side
on the way to Old Town Pasadena
We walked aimlessly absorbing old and new
crushing memories beneath our feet
to rustle of palm trees
there was nothing but stillness
floating
like a last lingering...
eradicated sunshine
mercilessly manacled the moments slipping
into late afternoon
ghosting life from nature, cement and concrete.
The road curved by the hills offering some cool breeze
skyview of the city
on one side
on the way to Old Town Pasadena
We walked aimlessly absorbing old and new
crushing memories beneath our feet
to rustle of palm trees
there was nothing but stillness
floating
like a last lingering...
929 reads
43 Comments
The Art of Mante’ (The long lost cousin of Tortellini)
There are oodles of noodles in every culture with flavors and textures as unique as our skin and fingerprints with all shapes and sizes but the only one that warms my heart and soul is Mante’.
I remember sitting in my grandmother’s small kitchen surrounded by my aunts and my mother watching my Nana knead the dough for which seemed like hours ’til it was supple, soft and smooth. She would smack the dough on the floured board few times with her trembling hands and then place the sign of the cross murmuring something with her eyes closed, covering it with a cotton...
I remember sitting in my grandmother’s small kitchen surrounded by my aunts and my mother watching my Nana knead the dough for which seemed like hours ’til it was supple, soft and smooth. She would smack the dough on the floured board few times with her trembling hands and then place the sign of the cross murmuring something with her eyes closed, covering it with a cotton...
534 reads
30 Comments
ward 19
I stare at her red shiny shoes week after week
muttering all things matting the grain
with a wet tongue like a cat, cleansing herself
of something that was never there.
I pay the bill on my way out, make another appointment
walk out in January frost pavement and ground covered
artificial white-ness reflecting benign sun or salt
bitter cold, perhaps both
dormancy and infancy intermingled. One warm tear
streams moistening the corner of my lips, mocking
all that need to be still; art of death.
*
*
*
In shallow breaths...
muttering all things matting the grain
with a wet tongue like a cat, cleansing herself
of something that was never there.
I pay the bill on my way out, make another appointment
walk out in January frost pavement and ground covered
artificial white-ness reflecting benign sun or salt
bitter cold, perhaps both
dormancy and infancy intermingled. One warm tear
streams moistening the corner of my lips, mocking
all that need to be still; art of death.
*
*
*
In shallow breaths...
567 reads
DU Poetry : Submissions by Vee (Rina)