Submissions by flowerbedss (beks)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SELF POEM
Published
19th Jan 2017 1:10am
19th Jan 2017 1:10am
That's okay for now.
I don’t know who I am. That’s okay for now.
I don’t know where I’m going. That’s okay for now.
I don’t know who will help me find myself. That’s okay for now.
One day I will be found.
I don’t know where I’m going. That’s okay for now.
I don’t know who will help me find myself. That’s okay for now.
One day I will be found.
588 reads
1 Comment
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
21st Dec 2016 00:53am
21st Dec 2016 00:53am
Safe
I hear these sounds… and it’s like I’m dreaming. I hear these sounds and I’m not afraid. For once your touch does not make me tense up, it doesn’t send a shiver down my spine. You are safe. You are safe and I say this to myself over and over again because I never want this feeling of security to go away. I don’t even for a moment question what these sounds are that I’m hearing. They sound shimmery and light. They almost remind me of being at a school dance in the 80’s. Quickly, as if lightning had struck the ground right in front of me, the sound fades out and I can sense my stomach...
631 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Oct 2016 5:14pm
27th Oct 2016 5:14pm
You
You're the tank top that's cut too low.
The one my mother does not approve of.
You're an atheist.
You've taught me religion.
You are the clouds in the November- except it's October.
You've made me lose all perception of time.
You're the train that I am on.
I look over and you're not there, but you should be.
I swore, oh god, I swore you wouldn't complete me.
I am the lucky one in a million whose eyes fell upon you and who fell in love with you.
You are the "DANGER! DO NOT CROSS TRACKS!"
Except you...
The one my mother does not approve of.
You're an atheist.
You've taught me religion.
You are the clouds in the November- except it's October.
You've made me lose all perception of time.
You're the train that I am on.
I look over and you're not there, but you should be.
I swore, oh god, I swore you wouldn't complete me.
I am the lucky one in a million whose eyes fell upon you and who fell in love with you.
You are the "DANGER! DO NOT CROSS TRACKS!"
Except you...
834 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Jul 2016 4:22pm
15th Jul 2016 4:22pm
I love you with a love that is bigger than i am
i love the way your voice shakes when you read poetry to me.
i love the way your heart beats in time to the clock on the wall.
i love the way you are 63.7 miles away yet it feels as if you are right here at home with me.
i havent had much poetic drive these couple of weeks so the fact that you give me any at all is not good.
it means that Im still in love with you and that if you called id come running.
you've taken over my train of thought.
i crave to know what you smell like. i crave to know what you taste like. i crave to know how you...
i love the way your heart beats in time to the clock on the wall.
i love the way you are 63.7 miles away yet it feels as if you are right here at home with me.
i havent had much poetic drive these couple of weeks so the fact that you give me any at all is not good.
it means that Im still in love with you and that if you called id come running.
you've taken over my train of thought.
i crave to know what you smell like. i crave to know what you taste like. i crave to know how you...
609 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
19th Jun 2016 3:37pm
19th Jun 2016 3:37pm
flowerbedss
My flowerbedss are ________.
In the bedss grow differents sorts of flowers.
Some with petals of dark ombre and others
that radiate happiness and good vibes.
I've always been told that I control what kinds of flowers grow in my flowerbedss.
How can I control what flowers grow when I can't control the weather?
If a violent storm is to invade my garden...
How am I to control the way the flowers wilt?
I've always been told I play victim to my disease.
That "sometimes" I play pretend.
But when there's patches of dead grass representing the...
In the bedss grow differents sorts of flowers.
Some with petals of dark ombre and others
that radiate happiness and good vibes.
I've always been told that I control what kinds of flowers grow in my flowerbedss.
How can I control what flowers grow when I can't control the weather?
If a violent storm is to invade my garden...
How am I to control the way the flowers wilt?
I've always been told I play victim to my disease.
That "sometimes" I play pretend.
But when there's patches of dead grass representing the...
540 reads
2 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
16th Jun 2016 10:25pm
16th Jun 2016 10:25pm
The Dance
Ever Since I was a young girl,
I was unknowingly lured into a dance by
dominant figures who showed all control
and told me what the steps of this dance were going to be.
When I spoke, my voice was heard by these powerful people as
sassy and rude. That sparked anger. That made their necks twitch and
made them enunciate their words very sharply.
I soon became afraid of my own voice.
This dance was led by a caregiver. A man who was supposed to love
and guide me. Not drag me through life going step by step through a dance
without giving...
I was unknowingly lured into a dance by
dominant figures who showed all control
and told me what the steps of this dance were going to be.
When I spoke, my voice was heard by these powerful people as
sassy and rude. That sparked anger. That made their necks twitch and
made them enunciate their words very sharply.
I soon became afraid of my own voice.
This dance was led by a caregiver. A man who was supposed to love
and guide me. Not drag me through life going step by step through a dance
without giving...
517 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
16th Jun 2016 10:14pm
16th Jun 2016 10:14pm
Looking In
Staring into the eyes of my mother,
I never saw the tenderness I hoped would be there.
I saw a different kind of compassion.
One I had hoped to see was one like a slow trickle of creek water flowing over a
group of rocks. Instead they were all gathered together, shielding each other
from the harsh sympathy that really was my mother.
Staring into the eyes of my father, I always see the anger I
know is present in him.
He has an angry soul.
My father's rage I carry within me.
My father's anger is a thunderstorm.
It tears down trees...
I never saw the tenderness I hoped would be there.
I saw a different kind of compassion.
One I had hoped to see was one like a slow trickle of creek water flowing over a
group of rocks. Instead they were all gathered together, shielding each other
from the harsh sympathy that really was my mother.
Staring into the eyes of my father, I always see the anger I
know is present in him.
He has an angry soul.
My father's rage I carry within me.
My father's anger is a thunderstorm.
It tears down trees...
514 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by flowerbedss (beks)
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