Submissions by braggman (Steve Bragg)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I'm not great, but at least I try to be honest.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Feb 2012 8:33am
16th Feb 2012 8:33am
Searching (for my daughter)
I put away the hopes I'd had
for your childhood like unused toys
left these last ten years in the rain
left these last ten years
without you
and move forward lighter colder
simpler.
Simple as a cream-colored stone
smoothed in a glacial stream
the smell of river washed wood
in the sun,
taste of sand.
Last leaves blow
by half-light
by October moon
rattle in...
for your childhood like unused toys
left these last ten years in the rain
left these last ten years
without you
and move forward lighter colder
simpler.
Simple as a cream-colored stone
smoothed in a glacial stream
the smell of river washed wood
in the sun,
taste of sand.
Last leaves blow
by half-light
by October moon
rattle in...
444 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Feb 2012 2:18pm
12th Feb 2012 2:18pm
Briefly
Birds still perch
in the fruit garden branches
of a world that’s dispensed
with culture.
It will, regressive
live for the day
chase-off the birds
drive fast
and just look-up the rest.
Dreams that fell to the sublimated leaves
are a past wasted, passed
to a painpill army of television skeletons.
This girl in the passing shade
with her hollow face
and gray shadow spread across her cheeks,
despite our time that's passed for love, ...
in the fruit garden branches
of a world that’s dispensed
with culture.
It will, regressive
live for the day
chase-off the birds
drive fast
and just look-up the rest.
Dreams that fell to the sublimated leaves
are a past wasted, passed
to a painpill army of television skeletons.
This girl in the passing shade
with her hollow face
and gray shadow spread across her cheeks,
despite our time that's passed for love, ...
427 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
4th Feb 2012 00:55am
4th Feb 2012 00:55am
Gravity
Attraction is
a provability
the tether
the strange force at a distance
that holds all together
as it falls disparate
and tangent
to the ground
to the moon
to the sun.
Strangely attracted children
hear and infer
the ice cream truck
by its song and its route
because space is curved
by desire.
We sit at the edge
of a tree line
within the faint arc of porch light
watching cold blacknight warped
into warm galactic flows.
Though we each began as separate...
a provability
the tether
the strange force at a distance
that holds all together
as it falls disparate
and tangent
to the ground
to the moon
to the sun.
Strangely attracted children
hear and infer
the ice cream truck
by its song and its route
because space is curved
by desire.
We sit at the edge
of a tree line
within the faint arc of porch light
watching cold blacknight warped
into warm galactic flows.
Though we each began as separate...
642 reads
13 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
3rd Feb 2012 3:24am
3rd Feb 2012 3:24am
Crane
Just as long
as each line
is filled
time
is held better.
Words, the snare
words, the solution
to themselves
divert from the issue
real issue of living
or not.
Just as long
as they keep
the flow
the rest of this debauchery
passes as just a process
of cultivating character.
I can smoke
until I taste the bloodflow
of collapsing alveoli,
chew up the past
in candy fistfuls of sweet Valium,
scratching out little lies
that give me license
to fill each page
unfolding uncounted,...
as each line
is filled
time
is held better.
Words, the snare
words, the solution
to themselves
divert from the issue
real issue of living
or not.
Just as long
as they keep
the flow
the rest of this debauchery
passes as just a process
of cultivating character.
I can smoke
until I taste the bloodflow
of collapsing alveoli,
chew up the past
in candy fistfuls of sweet Valium,
scratching out little lies
that give me license
to fill each page
unfolding uncounted,...
431 reads
3 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
22nd Jan 2012 8:35pm
22nd Jan 2012 8:35pm
Defensive
The river will take no more
snowmobiles, no ice fishers or wanderers.
It throws out spring-heaved icechunk
rubble broken between its banks all month
reminiscent of a road I'd seen
bulldozed, defensively
by local Bosnians
back to a former century.
There is a bramble of blackberry
by the spruce
sitting on the edge
of General Dynamics
Experimental Firing Range
thorny, redblack, delicious
forbidden.
snowmobiles, no ice fishers or wanderers.
It throws out spring-heaved icechunk
rubble broken between its banks all month
reminiscent of a road I'd seen
bulldozed, defensively
by local Bosnians
back to a former century.
There is a bramble of blackberry
by the spruce
sitting on the edge
of General Dynamics
Experimental Firing Range
thorny, redblack, delicious
forbidden.
380 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Jan 2012 2:01am
21st Jan 2012 2:01am
Brown in Freezing Rain
Brown in freezing rain
bare trees ahead
blur down my windshield,
waiting for a light.
They drip to ochre, sienna down
always down… windshield,
dash, lap, paper.
Paper now with ochre stains
as though automatic
unconscious
transposed by my compliant mind.
bare trees ahead
blur down my windshield,
waiting for a light.
They drip to ochre, sienna down
always down… windshield,
dash, lap, paper.
Paper now with ochre stains
as though automatic
unconscious
transposed by my compliant mind.
408 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th Jan 2012 9:15pm
15th Jan 2012 9:15pm
Fog
He emerges
ascending the flattened field
in the rain
cradling a rifle
retreating
in my passenger window.
I turn back ahead to nothing.
Sunset breaks the blind fog,
empty train whistle,
hollow sound inside a bell.
ascending the flattened field
in the rain
cradling a rifle
retreating
in my passenger window.
I turn back ahead to nothing.
Sunset breaks the blind fog,
empty train whistle,
hollow sound inside a bell.
487 reads
5 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
14th Jan 2012 3:11am
14th Jan 2012 3:11am
Yellow Help
Yellow truck plays
Turkey in the Straw.
Stalled, car overheating
by the bar,
pills hidden in my pants
bright sun, yellow truck
plays Turkey in the Straw.
Man pukes behind the bar.
I read a paperback
Blake
killing time
parked against the green-mossed
whitewash fence
beneath the pines and oak
beside the bar
in the torrid yellow Florida sun
waiting
for help.
Rustic housetops float
triangles held
above the faded fence
beneath the trees
yellow pills hidden in my pants. ...
Turkey in the Straw.
Stalled, car overheating
by the bar,
pills hidden in my pants
bright sun, yellow truck
plays Turkey in the Straw.
Man pukes behind the bar.
I read a paperback
Blake
killing time
parked against the green-mossed
whitewash fence
beneath the pines and oak
beside the bar
in the torrid yellow Florida sun
waiting
for help.
Rustic housetops float
triangles held
above the faded fence
beneath the trees
yellow pills hidden in my pants. ...
465 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Jan 2012 2:11am
13th Jan 2012 2:11am
Liberation
Take the car into the night.
Take whatever I have left.
I don’t care now.
My love is gone.
Take me with you
in the loud car through the night
on wet roads
on orange leaves.
Take me fast
on slim black roads
by the glint
of quick reflector signs
faster
I need the pair of blinding lights.
the fiery trees blown upside down.
Take whatever I have left.
I don’t care now.
My love is gone.
Take me with you
in the loud car through the night
on wet roads
on orange leaves.
Take me fast
on slim black roads
by the glint
of quick reflector signs
faster
I need the pair of blinding lights.
the fiery trees blown upside down.
368 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
9th Jan 2012 3:50am
9th Jan 2012 3:50am
Ice Storm
The ice storm is passing
carving its edge toward fresh land
and lives to the east.
At Newton’s there are broken limbs
and scrap-piles in the yard.
In the freezing night and shirtless
he stands over a flaming barrel
burning the residue and trash:
chore, glass stems, baggie ends
black spoons…
the receipts of a past
written in the smoke of burning ice.
He has a hearing in the morning,
but says he would have quit
just the same.
I watch, silent in the van,
the worse-off...
carving its edge toward fresh land
and lives to the east.
At Newton’s there are broken limbs
and scrap-piles in the yard.
In the freezing night and shirtless
he stands over a flaming barrel
burning the residue and trash:
chore, glass stems, baggie ends
black spoons…
the receipts of a past
written in the smoke of burning ice.
He has a hearing in the morning,
but says he would have quit
just the same.
I watch, silent in the van,
the worse-off...
451 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
8th Jan 2012 00:10am
8th Jan 2012 00:10am
Ghost Plays
The living me becomes
the dying me becoming
the ghost of me still
alive but not knowing,
standing back behind myself
worried for the other, silent.
My coughing calls him.
Sometimes I put on his mask
play as if to want
his ghostly life,
cut off days away from consciousness
a few lines away from that inspired poem
that cures and tells the secrets
all ghosts linger still to try to tell.
I have been curious about him.
It's killing me to find-out.
I hide in the caves.
I lie on flat boulders and try
to dream his dreams in the...
the dying me becoming
the ghost of me still
alive but not knowing,
standing back behind myself
worried for the other, silent.
My coughing calls him.
Sometimes I put on his mask
play as if to want
his ghostly life,
cut off days away from consciousness
a few lines away from that inspired poem
that cures and tells the secrets
all ghosts linger still to try to tell.
I have been curious about him.
It's killing me to find-out.
I hide in the caves.
I lie on flat boulders and try
to dream his dreams in the...
432 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
5th Jan 2012 4:51am
5th Jan 2012 4:51am
Dreaming
Fish alive
beneath dead ice
weak, part-starved
dreaming of mosquito dances
in their cold-blooded slumber.
Pine needles, like frozen fossils
adorn the dimension between us.
With the knife I cut a hole
for a two-hook line
impaling bark beetle grubs
sacrificial offerings
to the unseen
in prayer
for food.
beneath dead ice
weak, part-starved
dreaming of mosquito dances
in their cold-blooded slumber.
Pine needles, like frozen fossils
adorn the dimension between us.
With the knife I cut a hole
for a two-hook line
impaling bark beetle grubs
sacrificial offerings
to the unseen
in prayer
for food.
365 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by braggman (Steve Bragg)
