Submissions by antonee19
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
You don't need to know me. You'll find out enough through my poetry.
A Brother's Promise (sung aloud with spirit)
You got me into the good groove,
Soul mate.
Your flesh is like the heavens’ rain,
Tumblin’ diamonds fretting about,
A warm welcome to our season’s drought.
You gotta superimpose me,
You gotta light my fire,
A sweet tooth gambler,
That bitchin’ babe rambler.
Honey you’re gonna light my fire.
Soft brown sugar,
Melting in some odd fellow’s mouth.
The water is thick with broken trout.
Your hue is impenetrable, insatiable,
And it bellows with zest.
Hallelujah,
How rude of ya
To turn your back on me.
Now it’s...
Soul mate.
Your flesh is like the heavens’ rain,
Tumblin’ diamonds fretting about,
A warm welcome to our season’s drought.
You gotta superimpose me,
You gotta light my fire,
A sweet tooth gambler,
That bitchin’ babe rambler.
Honey you’re gonna light my fire.
Soft brown sugar,
Melting in some odd fellow’s mouth.
The water is thick with broken trout.
Your hue is impenetrable, insatiable,
And it bellows with zest.
Hallelujah,
How rude of ya
To turn your back on me.
Now it’s...
570 reads
0 Comments
Brain Child
Making men out of mud,
Conspiracies of black depth and culture,
Crafted from worn roads and Egyptian beaches,
Devising their tedious existence,
While the savanna rain teaches.
Jaunt and jive to a remaining beat,
Off-centered and rhythmic with arrays of color.
Ebony curves and bronze intellect reforming,
With a new diversity conforming,
In vehement harmony.
Drums and horns and art,
With white eyes and fortified hearts.
A harvest of tangents and bellowing sermons,
Out a shaman with real medicine,
Wondering if he should murder the...
Conspiracies of black depth and culture,
Crafted from worn roads and Egyptian beaches,
Devising their tedious existence,
While the savanna rain teaches.
Jaunt and jive to a remaining beat,
Off-centered and rhythmic with arrays of color.
Ebony curves and bronze intellect reforming,
With a new diversity conforming,
In vehement harmony.
Drums and horns and art,
With white eyes and fortified hearts.
A harvest of tangents and bellowing sermons,
Out a shaman with real medicine,
Wondering if he should murder the...
585 reads
0 Comments
In Aphrodite's Lobby
There was a black girl under the chandelier,
With big black eyes of demon scales,
Comprised of slightly curled lash and tear.
She had a Dali painted body and the face of a widow angel.
Her hair was thick and wiry, clean cut; precise.
He rich fingers were polished with glimmer to entangle.
He was the other spectrum,
Whiter than dead Satan at the bottom of the Inferno.
He was half of an intellectual, yet exposed and handsome.
He presented to her the gift of shy comfort,
At an old back-alley library, entwined with ripe age.
They met...
With big black eyes of demon scales,
Comprised of slightly curled lash and tear.
She had a Dali painted body and the face of a widow angel.
Her hair was thick and wiry, clean cut; precise.
He rich fingers were polished with glimmer to entangle.
He was the other spectrum,
Whiter than dead Satan at the bottom of the Inferno.
He was half of an intellectual, yet exposed and handsome.
He presented to her the gift of shy comfort,
At an old back-alley library, entwined with ripe age.
They met...
562 reads
0 Comments
Cajun Secrets
I crave knowledge and its reciprocal,
The difference between the feigned and literal.
Neutral in the path of shadow and esteem,
Dignity just a fringe, a passing daydream.
Autumn plumage reveals itself to its world,
Waiting for its limbs and leaves to wake and uncurl.
Ecstasy is exfoliating as moonlight creeps out,
Opening its pleasures and wonders to me in vouch.
Jars and cracked cans of various commodities,
In the back of a wooden shack, among other oddities.
My hermit hole, my retreat and harbor of refuge,
Along a vine...
The difference between the feigned and literal.
Neutral in the path of shadow and esteem,
Dignity just a fringe, a passing daydream.
Autumn plumage reveals itself to its world,
Waiting for its limbs and leaves to wake and uncurl.
Ecstasy is exfoliating as moonlight creeps out,
Opening its pleasures and wonders to me in vouch.
Jars and cracked cans of various commodities,
In the back of a wooden shack, among other oddities.
My hermit hole, my retreat and harbor of refuge,
Along a vine...
638 reads
0 Comments
The Philosophies of Penalty
Tiptoeing down death row,
Fancies of crazies and barred safety.
The subtle puddles spurt bubbles,
And the iced floor has a warm sheen to it.
The guard is tall and strong, with shingles as shoulders.
The younger each of them get, the more I grow older.
I have evaded the accords of necrosis, the most common condition,
Up until now, for it is creeping up on me like a forest fire.
Reality has submitted, with a driven anger, lustful.
It will never forgive me for wasting the midnights held with silence.
I want to visit Euphrates, and meet Demeter,...
Fancies of crazies and barred safety.
The subtle puddles spurt bubbles,
And the iced floor has a warm sheen to it.
The guard is tall and strong, with shingles as shoulders.
The younger each of them get, the more I grow older.
I have evaded the accords of necrosis, the most common condition,
Up until now, for it is creeping up on me like a forest fire.
Reality has submitted, with a driven anger, lustful.
It will never forgive me for wasting the midnights held with silence.
I want to visit Euphrates, and meet Demeter,...
504 reads
0 Comments
Ghetto Childe
Behold,
I am about to reveal everything I ever knowed.
Wait, like a little childe,
In hapenis in the evil wild!
The ocen looked up at me one day,
As if to say,
“Hey, I know you, lil childe,”
A white frothy smile on it’s eyes.
Im going to walk on down this pathway here,
A amazing creature of imagination.
Im so exited.
Its going to be incredible!
I am about to reveal everything I ever knowed.
Wait, like a little childe,
In hapenis in the evil wild!
The ocen looked up at me one day,
As if to say,
“Hey, I know you, lil childe,”
A white frothy smile on it’s eyes.
Im going to walk on down this pathway here,
A amazing creature of imagination.
Im so exited.
Its going to be incredible!
574 reads
0 Comments
My Guardian Angel, Irony
Out of her seed bred vast seas of brackish depth.
The tuna were abundant, as were mermaids.
Perplexed by its achievement,
The god held no grievances.
My bronze toe has grown.
I am mesmerized by its conformity,
And it should lead me into the impenetrable.
But pull back, it’s mouth is open,
Full of dead sailors.
There’s a beach underway,
Held in permanent stagnation.
Palms and buds flourish, lucid.
Clean water flows, a guiltless fluid.
Ninety nine maidens,
A bed of exotic contour lines,
Wave in the sun’s refraction,...
The tuna were abundant, as were mermaids.
Perplexed by its achievement,
The god held no grievances.
My bronze toe has grown.
I am mesmerized by its conformity,
And it should lead me into the impenetrable.
But pull back, it’s mouth is open,
Full of dead sailors.
There’s a beach underway,
Held in permanent stagnation.
Palms and buds flourish, lucid.
Clean water flows, a guiltless fluid.
Ninety nine maidens,
A bed of exotic contour lines,
Wave in the sun’s refraction,...
559 reads
0 Comments
Modernist Poser
My best friend died yesterday,
But I cried over it anyway.
My wife told me she was a queer.
I broke, then.
My humble addiction is to satisfy.
I thrive in static pretension,
In an ego.
The macaws drop like flies,
As I find out any other animal dies.
“Hurry,”
I speak as we hunt for the next show,
Arrogant with devotion.
Hurry, and hurry more,
For I have not heard music before.
And I can’t write,
Just spitting out scraps of thought,
Carelessly tossed together.
It’s time to wallow in the pedantry,
Enjoy every...
But I cried over it anyway.
My wife told me she was a queer.
I broke, then.
My humble addiction is to satisfy.
I thrive in static pretension,
In an ego.
The macaws drop like flies,
As I find out any other animal dies.
“Hurry,”
I speak as we hunt for the next show,
Arrogant with devotion.
Hurry, and hurry more,
For I have not heard music before.
And I can’t write,
Just spitting out scraps of thought,
Carelessly tossed together.
It’s time to wallow in the pedantry,
Enjoy every...
611 reads
1 Comment
Bodhi
I’ve been so damn tired lately.
A gust of wind, wheezing.
My mellow angst is retiring,
Shuffling up a flight of stairs,
To bed.
I’ve since lost the gift of innocence,
Cherished in the eyes of prevalent parents.
I’ve tainted the immaculate perception,
That is still held by some of my peers.
Derived in a house of sin,
The honest hostess drips cyanide into our breath.
A channeling of awareness, I am held in proximity,
Careful to avoid her persistent hospitality.
And why should I?
Has there ever been a time for penance?...
A gust of wind, wheezing.
My mellow angst is retiring,
Shuffling up a flight of stairs,
To bed.
I’ve since lost the gift of innocence,
Cherished in the eyes of prevalent parents.
I’ve tainted the immaculate perception,
That is still held by some of my peers.
Derived in a house of sin,
The honest hostess drips cyanide into our breath.
A channeling of awareness, I am held in proximity,
Careful to avoid her persistent hospitality.
And why should I?
Has there ever been a time for penance?...
641 reads
0 Comments
The Lonely Jesse Tree
These wretched ones, who never were alive,
went naked and were stung again, again
by horseflies and by wasps that circled them.
The insects streaked their faces with their blood,
which, mingled with their tears, fell at their feet,
where it was gathered up by sickening worms.
(Inf. III, 64-69)
Of course there is some symbolic freedom etched in all of us.
And of course I can break on through to the other side.
But I am still that trivial lagniappe,
The valley that rests between snow-kissed hilltops.
A slump.
There is a dilapidated...
went naked and were stung again, again
by horseflies and by wasps that circled them.
The insects streaked their faces with their blood,
which, mingled with their tears, fell at their feet,
where it was gathered up by sickening worms.
(Inf. III, 64-69)
Of course there is some symbolic freedom etched in all of us.
And of course I can break on through to the other side.
But I am still that trivial lagniappe,
The valley that rests between snow-kissed hilltops.
A slump.
There is a dilapidated...
795 reads
0 Comments
Warden
Touched hard,
Into a niche of inspiration.
Fed a spoonful of complication.
Wiped clean, propped up.
We’re making a mark.
This time, I can’t turn around.
A miracle is about to unfold,
And I can’t ask why.
A gate is opening,
Ability within resurrection.
Have faith in the insurrection.
Join me, reverend.
Mix trust with some heaven.
Pieces of wisdom clasping.
I want to understand our stakes,
I want to risk it without asking.
Jesus told me yesterday that its okay.
He wants me to calm down already
(All the fish...
Into a niche of inspiration.
Fed a spoonful of complication.
Wiped clean, propped up.
We’re making a mark.
This time, I can’t turn around.
A miracle is about to unfold,
And I can’t ask why.
A gate is opening,
Ability within resurrection.
Have faith in the insurrection.
Join me, reverend.
Mix trust with some heaven.
Pieces of wisdom clasping.
I want to understand our stakes,
I want to risk it without asking.
Jesus told me yesterday that its okay.
He wants me to calm down already
(All the fish...
605 reads
0 Comments
Plebian Ferns
I hear a symphony of white noise,
As the clouds scar the sky.
Blades of grass cut me, arrogant blood-letters.
Nuisances plague me with pinpricks,
Shallow burdens on which to complain.
Castrate the cult,
Beef up on melancholy.
Girls and boys with spears stab the queers.
There’s chaos under every rock,
Behind every star.
I won’t stand long,
I’m too worn out to think.
And I’m on my side,
Restless with irascibility,
Copulating with my enemies.
Bound to the corners of the earth,
I reign wrath with belligerent birth....
As the clouds scar the sky.
Blades of grass cut me, arrogant blood-letters.
Nuisances plague me with pinpricks,
Shallow burdens on which to complain.
Castrate the cult,
Beef up on melancholy.
Girls and boys with spears stab the queers.
There’s chaos under every rock,
Behind every star.
I won’t stand long,
I’m too worn out to think.
And I’m on my side,
Restless with irascibility,
Copulating with my enemies.
Bound to the corners of the earth,
I reign wrath with belligerent birth....
615 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by antonee19