Submissions by cynimon
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
This,my love affair: a tumultous dance,a suspended sigh, a fiery embrace of a language that enables me to write that which would otherwise remain unspoken.
SELF POEM
Published
6th Feb 2013 9:16am
6th Feb 2013 9:16am
gifts
our children ground us
set our paths straight when we are still tempted
to weave a crooked step
they ignite what was never there before
a need to protect and secure
the best of life
for them to walk their road with light
and quiet the ever-present voices of the night
our children ground us
and set us free equally
to stretch our inner being
so that we love without cease
and hope while we breathe
set our paths straight when we are still tempted
to weave a crooked step
they ignite what was never there before
a need to protect and secure
the best of life
for them to walk their road with light
and quiet the ever-present voices of the night
our children ground us
and set us free equally
to stretch our inner being
so that we love without cease
and hope while we breathe
578 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Oct 2012 5:57pm
1st Oct 2012 5:57pm
smoking ruins
charred blood of her heart
slides like mercury
through the smoking ruins of her love.
her throat constricts,
clogged with the ashes of her memories.
pain knifes at her eyes that burn
with tears like eternal fires.
crawling,she drags her hunched body raspingly forward,
nail-less fingers dead to the spikes of burning floor.
her shredded knees leave a weeping trail if he wished to follow
but he is standing in his arctic circle
as she finally reaches the door.
blackened hands turn the door-knob,
which begins to shake
as she attempts to stand...
slides like mercury
through the smoking ruins of her love.
her throat constricts,
clogged with the ashes of her memories.
pain knifes at her eyes that burn
with tears like eternal fires.
crawling,she drags her hunched body raspingly forward,
nail-less fingers dead to the spikes of burning floor.
her shredded knees leave a weeping trail if he wished to follow
but he is standing in his arctic circle
as she finally reaches the door.
blackened hands turn the door-knob,
which begins to shake
as she attempts to stand...
647 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
1st Oct 2012 5:10pm
1st Oct 2012 5:10pm
almonds and honey-suckle
Honey-suckle scents
flit on the dusky breeze
that sails through the almond tree...
Yesterday, I plucked green-balled almonds,
balancing wide-legged on its curves
bare toes curled into its hard, dark skin.
This tree, decades older than me, rich
canopy of soft leaves shading my thoughts.
Here and there we found sun-burnt brown almonds
cracked them open
to find the miracle of intact nut...
bursting, floury, roasted by the sun
sweet nutty flavour
dancing along my tongue.
Later, I trimmed the honey-suckle bush,
reverently lifted the...
flit on the dusky breeze
that sails through the almond tree...
Yesterday, I plucked green-balled almonds,
balancing wide-legged on its curves
bare toes curled into its hard, dark skin.
This tree, decades older than me, rich
canopy of soft leaves shading my thoughts.
Here and there we found sun-burnt brown almonds
cracked them open
to find the miracle of intact nut...
bursting, floury, roasted by the sun
sweet nutty flavour
dancing along my tongue.
Later, I trimmed the honey-suckle bush,
reverently lifted the...
565 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th Sep 2012 10:37am
14th Sep 2012 10:37am
Unveiled
Today I feel you
Drawing me to you
War-like
But silently waiting...
I am tempted
By the furious calling of you
But dare not turn to you
For you are the destruction of my world
_______________
Is there an echo of pain?
A stifled sob of longing
A turning of the mind
ever-so-slightly
to glance,
quick
at the sweet taboo
A fight to evade the scalding grasp of truth
within a mere hair's breadth...
Thoughts,
slightly singed
eyes tearing.
But the mind looks resolutely ahead
denying the traces of burning...
Drawing me to you
War-like
But silently waiting...
I am tempted
By the furious calling of you
But dare not turn to you
For you are the destruction of my world
_______________
Is there an echo of pain?
A stifled sob of longing
A turning of the mind
ever-so-slightly
to glance,
quick
at the sweet taboo
A fight to evade the scalding grasp of truth
within a mere hair's breadth...
Thoughts,
slightly singed
eyes tearing.
But the mind looks resolutely ahead
denying the traces of burning...
543 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Sep 2012 10:22am
14th Sep 2012 10:22am
C.T spring
Cape Town struts into spring
with barely a glance over her gold-dust shoulder
at withered old-man winter.
Her spiked-gold Christian Louboutins
skim the flowered runway
of yellow, white, purple daisies seen only in Namaqualand
Her hips sway a rhythm
that have all fall at her feet
High,
on the pollen that wafts from between her thighs...
Drunk,
on the suggestion of love
in her sea-blue slanted eyes...
Entranced,
by her cherry-ripe lips
slightly parted, glistening an invitation
to taste from their orchard.
Cape...
with barely a glance over her gold-dust shoulder
at withered old-man winter.
Her spiked-gold Christian Louboutins
skim the flowered runway
of yellow, white, purple daisies seen only in Namaqualand
Her hips sway a rhythm
that have all fall at her feet
High,
on the pollen that wafts from between her thighs...
Drunk,
on the suggestion of love
in her sea-blue slanted eyes...
Entranced,
by her cherry-ripe lips
slightly parted, glistening an invitation
to taste from their orchard.
Cape...
558 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
25th Aug 2012 2:20pm
25th Aug 2012 2:20pm
Burnt-out
Daylight strikes me as night beating
dark-webbed wings against my shivered flesh
Laughter is the drive of rusted nails
into the base of my ever-shrinking skull
Words spoken in sibilant puffs
are thorned wreaths tightening around my draining heart
My eyes no longer see the grace
in those who smile,
pitying me.
For it is I who refuse to come
kneeling.
Warm hands patter my pale drawn face,
But I am in a world that has lied about itself
Betrayed my soul
Spat on my spirit
I am dripping with the gall-green phlegm
of reality.
I am...
dark-webbed wings against my shivered flesh
Laughter is the drive of rusted nails
into the base of my ever-shrinking skull
Words spoken in sibilant puffs
are thorned wreaths tightening around my draining heart
My eyes no longer see the grace
in those who smile,
pitying me.
For it is I who refuse to come
kneeling.
Warm hands patter my pale drawn face,
But I am in a world that has lied about itself
Betrayed my soul
Spat on my spirit
I am dripping with the gall-green phlegm
of reality.
I am...
536 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
25th Aug 2012 2:06pm
25th Aug 2012 2:06pm
Broken
(written three years ago)
Broken
There is just no other way
To describe what my heart has become
Reading over past words
Reminds me that the sun has fled
Although I see beauty
I cannot hold it, make it golden,
Make it mine.
I am no less grateful
And know I have so much to live for
Yet I live a half-life, scattered
amongst the stories of everyday.
My dreams,
still-lifed in shuttered rooms with dust motes
drifting like unanswered questions to blackened floors.
How can this be
All I am meant to be
What happended...
Broken
There is just no other way
To describe what my heart has become
Reading over past words
Reminds me that the sun has fled
Although I see beauty
I cannot hold it, make it golden,
Make it mine.
I am no less grateful
And know I have so much to live for
Yet I live a half-life, scattered
amongst the stories of everyday.
My dreams,
still-lifed in shuttered rooms with dust motes
drifting like unanswered questions to blackened floors.
How can this be
All I am meant to be
What happended...
672 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
5th Aug 2012 8:41am
5th Aug 2012 8:41am
Monster's Ball
His modus operandi
is to rip some flesh from her
face, breasts and thighs strategically
whooping and grunting
while he disfigures her incrementally
so that other men will take flight
stumbling over their feet in haste
riddled with undiluted disgust
at the silent scream that is her face
Leaving her shivering in her plight
And him at absolute liberty
to swoop at her
and quite liberally
tear at her again
she, his pulpy mess of triumph
over susceptible women and spineless men
she, a testimony to the undeniably monstrous...
is to rip some flesh from her
face, breasts and thighs strategically
whooping and grunting
while he disfigures her incrementally
so that other men will take flight
stumbling over their feet in haste
riddled with undiluted disgust
at the silent scream that is her face
Leaving her shivering in her plight
And him at absolute liberty
to swoop at her
and quite liberally
tear at her again
she, his pulpy mess of triumph
over susceptible women and spineless men
she, a testimony to the undeniably monstrous...
571 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
3rd Aug 2012 7:08pm
3rd Aug 2012 7:08pm
melon sweet
Spread legs are best
to view melons
don't you think?
so hands up against the wall
mmm ... such full round-ed swell
suits my purpose ve-ry well.
don't look around now
be good
while I'm still in an indulgent mood
my eyes, they need to feast a while
before I slip over the hood...
Bend a little forward
More
oh god
just
like
that
hot saliva spurts uncontrollably
as my gaze meets your ripe juicy sacs
should I stroke them
you want me to suck them
I can't hear you through your growls
all I know
is that I...
to view melons
don't you think?
so hands up against the wall
mmm ... such full round-ed swell
suits my purpose ve-ry well.
don't look around now
be good
while I'm still in an indulgent mood
my eyes, they need to feast a while
before I slip over the hood...
Bend a little forward
More
oh god
just
like
that
hot saliva spurts uncontrollably
as my gaze meets your ripe juicy sacs
should I stroke them
you want me to suck them
I can't hear you through your growls
all I know
is that I...
855 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
1st Aug 2012 8:39am
1st Aug 2012 8:39am
let it end
Stop pulling at me
I will come back
And then?
you don't know what to do
with me
standing again before you
I am only an interlude
in your search to make your own history
leave me alone
and let me breathe
have we not caused enough destruction
angst
spiked silences
suspicious doubt in those we love
it will never be enough
not for ones like you and I
to sidestep each other delicately
and bow with our eyes to the floor
no
No!
we will want to sidle, undulate in thoughts before we lunge bite
rip
Blood each...
I will come back
And then?
you don't know what to do
with me
standing again before you
I am only an interlude
in your search to make your own history
leave me alone
and let me breathe
have we not caused enough destruction
angst
spiked silences
suspicious doubt in those we love
it will never be enough
not for ones like you and I
to sidestep each other delicately
and bow with our eyes to the floor
no
No!
we will want to sidle, undulate in thoughts before we lunge bite
rip
Blood each...
636 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
31st Jul 2012 6:50pm
31st Jul 2012 6:50pm
shape of our love
Dog chewing bone
like crackling thunder in sky
the song of crickets
on the other side of the house
speaking of tented summer evenings
pregnant moon with sleepy joy
silly things and spurting laughter
under secret sky.
From the lounge come your deep voices
different timbres
like lumberjacks splitting trees
so very male
the three of you.
Whilst here, in the gentle ocean that is our bed
I sit, with our daughter
cross-legged
in her grey tights
writing page after page in her eight-year old diary
while I write in mine
two...
like crackling thunder in sky
the song of crickets
on the other side of the house
speaking of tented summer evenings
pregnant moon with sleepy joy
silly things and spurting laughter
under secret sky.
From the lounge come your deep voices
different timbres
like lumberjacks splitting trees
so very male
the three of you.
Whilst here, in the gentle ocean that is our bed
I sit, with our daughter
cross-legged
in her grey tights
writing page after page in her eight-year old diary
while I write in mine
two...
585 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by cynimon
