Submissions by daphnest
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Of all the things I planned to do this morning, writing overtook me. A psychic bleed on electronic pages covered with typeface symbols. What they stand for is as disturbing as what I'm about to do next: Go outside.
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
27th Nov 2011 5:42am
27th Nov 2011 5:42am
The Book of Carver: Sssmokin'
Carver woke up with his nose crunched down on the cold damp sidewalk. He turned his head, and pried open his swollen, blood-crusted eyes that tried to focus on the partially dissolved cigar next to his face. It never did come into view very well. As he began to tense his body, hoping he had the strength to get up, he felt a stream of hot, wet liquid splashing onto the back of his head, stinging the many cuts and abrasions on his face that he
didn’t know he had until now. Each one stinging sharply, and the waft of a putrid stench began filling his nose. Someone was pissing on his head, he...
didn’t know he had until now. Each one stinging sharply, and the waft of a putrid stench began filling his nose. Someone was pissing on his head, he...
712 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
27th Nov 2011 5:37am
27th Nov 2011 5:37am
The Examined Life
Is it criminal—this act of an examined life
to decide that convention is harmful for at
least this particular psyche, and to knowingly,
committedly, contemplatively and prayerfully
choose to dwell in a mild, harmful psychosis--
one defined by that world of convention but
the label rejected by those who are wiser or
just mad enough to be revered? No. It is sane.
Daring. Witty.
And sane.
to decide that convention is harmful for at
least this particular psyche, and to knowingly,
committedly, contemplatively and prayerfully
choose to dwell in a mild, harmful psychosis--
one defined by that world of convention but
the label rejected by those who are wiser or
just mad enough to be revered? No. It is sane.
Daring. Witty.
And sane.
626 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Nov 2011 00:04am
8th Nov 2011 00:04am
Scene 1: The Office
Excuse me, please? Um. Excuse me, can you please help me?
You see, I’m trapped in this box. No, here. Inside the box. Yes.
I know you can’t see me. No one can. I’m in the box.
(blink. blink.)
Hello? Hi. Are you still there? Well, are you? Okay good. Listen.
I need your help. Yes, to get out of the box! Excuse me, please.
Help me. Help me get out?
You see, I’m trapped in this box. No, here. Inside the box. Yes.
I know you can’t see me. No one can. I’m in the box.
(blink. blink.)
Hello? Hi. Are you still there? Well, are you? Okay good. Listen.
I need your help. Yes, to get out of the box! Excuse me, please.
Help me. Help me get out?
585 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
7th Nov 2011 9:02pm
7th Nov 2011 9:02pm
Painting haunted faces
A ghost sits beside me in
crisp green air - a brisk
memory that stays there.
For as long as I remember.
It is the best place to keep her.
Her face has changed throughout the years.
Colors and voices multiple and unidentifiable
in time, but always recognized by her song
to me. Mercy. They are the same tune.
The song is of pain and ecstasy.
Embrace a waking dream. Of soft
sand that drapes the shores and
forgets nothing of worth. And
evermore asks of its worth.
Shall I go? Will
it dull the scars?
My forever friends....
crisp green air - a brisk
memory that stays there.
For as long as I remember.
It is the best place to keep her.
Her face has changed throughout the years.
Colors and voices multiple and unidentifiable
in time, but always recognized by her song
to me. Mercy. They are the same tune.
The song is of pain and ecstasy.
Embrace a waking dream. Of soft
sand that drapes the shores and
forgets nothing of worth. And
evermore asks of its worth.
Shall I go? Will
it dull the scars?
My forever friends....
605 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th Nov 2011 00:38am
7th Nov 2011 00:38am
Edgar
It doesn’t require a particular song
No melody, no harmony to bring upon
The dance that forces a heart beating out
Of rhythm to succumb to the elegant flows
Of nature—melodious and loud and forgiving.
Feeling out of place, my skin belongs to another
And I have no particular dwelling to name home or
Even respite, but I might just be able to take in this leg
Of the journey as an ancient plenary indulgence, to cleanse
A pock-marked soul of so many injustices and harms inflicted
Upon an already damaged world, and yes, most were intentional.
...
No melody, no harmony to bring upon
The dance that forces a heart beating out
Of rhythm to succumb to the elegant flows
Of nature—melodious and loud and forgiving.
Feeling out of place, my skin belongs to another
And I have no particular dwelling to name home or
Even respite, but I might just be able to take in this leg
Of the journey as an ancient plenary indulgence, to cleanse
A pock-marked soul of so many injustices and harms inflicted
Upon an already damaged world, and yes, most were intentional.
...
695 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
6th Nov 2011 00:33am
6th Nov 2011 00:33am
My Psychedelic Cat
She first appeared as a wicked aftermath,
A jazz-filled dream conjured through the
Dust of angles. I think. Glowing on the pale
Gray concrete, spotting me first from behind
A potted plant. Psychedelic colors shifting
In a tie-dyed medley. I blinked, regarding
The vision as a temporary haze induced
Through the blindness of the blaring music
Streaming in my head, mostly the trombones.
It’s always the trombones.
But when she emerged, the REALITY of my
Hallucination was unavoidable—not that I
Would wish to. Avoid it I mean. Green,...
A jazz-filled dream conjured through the
Dust of angles. I think. Glowing on the pale
Gray concrete, spotting me first from behind
A potted plant. Psychedelic colors shifting
In a tie-dyed medley. I blinked, regarding
The vision as a temporary haze induced
Through the blindness of the blaring music
Streaming in my head, mostly the trombones.
It’s always the trombones.
But when she emerged, the REALITY of my
Hallucination was unavoidable—not that I
Would wish to. Avoid it I mean. Green,...
829 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Nov 2011 10:11pm
4th Nov 2011 10:11pm
You dis-respect linguistics!
Respect/Disrespect…
You disrespected me
You will show me respect
He disrespected me
You will not disrespect me
She just dissed me!
Uh-uh, no. You will treat me with respect
What?
Respect is earned, and it is for me
To decide whether I deem you worthy
Of my respect. The fact that you live and
Breathe does not canonize you with some
Right to a degree of respect from me or anyone
Else. The fact that you hold some status, credential
Or professional or societal position does not grant
You my respect, you foolish,...
You disrespected me
You will show me respect
He disrespected me
You will not disrespect me
She just dissed me!
Uh-uh, no. You will treat me with respect
What?
Respect is earned, and it is for me
To decide whether I deem you worthy
Of my respect. The fact that you live and
Breathe does not canonize you with some
Right to a degree of respect from me or anyone
Else. The fact that you hold some status, credential
Or professional or societal position does not grant
You my respect, you foolish,...
829 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
4th Nov 2011 6:13pm
4th Nov 2011 6:13pm
Insomniac: Instructions on how to stop a heart from bleeding
What doesn’t work
I’ve tried sewing it shut, but its will is big
The suchers broke open: it bleeds
I’ve tried packing it with cotton, but it keeps beating too strong
The packing soaked through: it bleeds
I’ve tried cauterizing it with a hot knife, but it’s stronger than me
It only sprung several more leaks: it bleeds
The anesthetist
Someone gave me a shot plus many more, but it was too sad
It cried salty tears add to the bloody mess: it hurts
Someone gave me a new love, but it screamed—IMPOSTER!
A lobe shattered apart from the...
I’ve tried sewing it shut, but its will is big
The suchers broke open: it bleeds
I’ve tried packing it with cotton, but it keeps beating too strong
The packing soaked through: it bleeds
I’ve tried cauterizing it with a hot knife, but it’s stronger than me
It only sprung several more leaks: it bleeds
The anesthetist
Someone gave me a shot plus many more, but it was too sad
It cried salty tears add to the bloody mess: it hurts
Someone gave me a new love, but it screamed—IMPOSTER!
A lobe shattered apart from the...
702 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Nov 2011 4:10am
4th Nov 2011 4:10am
The Opportunist
And grace is known only through
Her antithesis. All else is a grand
Imposter.
I thank the tall weeds for gripping
My ankles so tight I could not move
Or dream. I thank the rain drops for
Clouding my eyes so that honesty
Was unrecognizable. I thank the
Swamp mud for filling my mouth
Absent of voice or opinion. I thank
The wind for chilling my heart so
That logic took over my thoughts.
I thank the waves for washing my
Brain and soul, melting individuality
Away with the tide. I thank the sun
For burning my skin, providing a...
Her antithesis. All else is a grand
Imposter.
I thank the tall weeds for gripping
My ankles so tight I could not move
Or dream. I thank the rain drops for
Clouding my eyes so that honesty
Was unrecognizable. I thank the
Swamp mud for filling my mouth
Absent of voice or opinion. I thank
The wind for chilling my heart so
That logic took over my thoughts.
I thank the waves for washing my
Brain and soul, melting individuality
Away with the tide. I thank the sun
For burning my skin, providing a...
679 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Nov 2011 4:08am
4th Nov 2011 4:08am
Time
If I were to cross my eyes
Hopscotching on damp sidewalks
I’d ponder the logic of multiplication
But will opt to go draw a picture instead
If I were to crush on a boy
Getting my ears pierced today
I plan a trip to my first rock concert
And pack up my toys to give to charity
If I were to join the glee club
Study French as I plan my escape
I’ll wear only black for one whole month
In protest as my parents throw away my stash
If I were to curl in a small ball
Staring at my roommate’s nice stuff
All neatly decorated in her...
Hopscotching on damp sidewalks
I’d ponder the logic of multiplication
But will opt to go draw a picture instead
If I were to crush on a boy
Getting my ears pierced today
I plan a trip to my first rock concert
And pack up my toys to give to charity
If I were to join the glee club
Study French as I plan my escape
I’ll wear only black for one whole month
In protest as my parents throw away my stash
If I were to curl in a small ball
Staring at my roommate’s nice stuff
All neatly decorated in her...
797 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2011 4:01pm
2nd Nov 2011 4:01pm
The making of God
If dignity knew its place it would
Scammer away from me like roaches
In the light. Happiness would know
It does more harm than good with
It’s temporary smiles and fake
Laughter. And success would dull
Its glow and transform to the modest
Flicker of a cardboard match. I tend
To find my way to gluttony, and
Getting too drunk on these things
That don’t know my name and
Couldn’t pick me out of a line-up.
I’m learning to raise up my sweaty
Glass in celebration of disgrace and
Pain and failure. They are my true
Friends...
Scammer away from me like roaches
In the light. Happiness would know
It does more harm than good with
It’s temporary smiles and fake
Laughter. And success would dull
Its glow and transform to the modest
Flicker of a cardboard match. I tend
To find my way to gluttony, and
Getting too drunk on these things
That don’t know my name and
Couldn’t pick me out of a line-up.
I’m learning to raise up my sweaty
Glass in celebration of disgrace and
Pain and failure. They are my true
Friends...
627 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Nov 2011 10:37pm
1st Nov 2011 10:37pm
How to heal
There’s a sacredness in nothingness.
When you check your feelings, and
They’ve abandoned you. Finally. Pain.
Anguish. Despair – all stemming from
That vile creature: Hope. They all have
Divorced themselves from you in such a
Way that you can no longer recall their
Scent. All memories have grayed and
Scratched out the faces that just then,
A moment ago, you swore you could
Never live without. Now, freedom.
No drug could even grant such solace.
For a drug only veils a temporary repose.
Time spent in agony, dragging yourself
Chest first...
When you check your feelings, and
They’ve abandoned you. Finally. Pain.
Anguish. Despair – all stemming from
That vile creature: Hope. They all have
Divorced themselves from you in such a
Way that you can no longer recall their
Scent. All memories have grayed and
Scratched out the faces that just then,
A moment ago, you swore you could
Never live without. Now, freedom.
No drug could even grant such solace.
For a drug only veils a temporary repose.
Time spent in agony, dragging yourself
Chest first...
712 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by daphnest
