Submissions by goldenmyst
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
"My muse changes clothes at the drop of a hat" Goldenmyst, 59 years old, lives in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The poet and author believe, “Love blossoms even within the walls of a madhouse in hearts yearning to be free.”
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Jan 2025 4:45am
22nd Jan 2025 4:45am
Four for the Road
Four for the Road
I Walpi
Bruja voice of a thousand tears
Takes us to the sky born wheel
Where pueblo wonders through centuries
Upon flower mesa that blossoms love
For children of dusty walls
Whose cast iron dreams
Are a coal stove in a pottery room
With a lady of ancient designs
Whose smile is the murmuring sun
That glimmers through a veil of sand
When her ceramic children
With motifs as sacred as the land
Are too strange for homes of...
I Walpi
Bruja voice of a thousand tears
Takes us to the sky born wheel
Where pueblo wonders through centuries
Upon flower mesa that blossoms love
For children of dusty walls
Whose cast iron dreams
Are a coal stove in a pottery room
With a lady of ancient designs
Whose smile is the murmuring sun
That glimmers through a veil of sand
When her ceramic children
With motifs as sacred as the land
Are too strange for homes of...
#city
#desert
#memories
#spiritual
#travel
39 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Jan 2025 9:40am
21st Jan 2025 9:40am
The Unfolding
The Unfolding
Reclined in Baroque splendor
On her back
Upon Jung’s red velvet divan
Stilettos lifted to heaven
Her All Hallows gossamer is a black rose
In the midnight pool of satin
Of her cocktail dress, gold sashed at the waist
That she wears so, her skin can breathe
When his questions make her sweat
And her makeup just makes it worse
But she would feel naked without it
When she confesses that in her dreams
She is the film noir archetype
Of Dietrich in...
Reclined in Baroque splendor
On her back
Upon Jung’s red velvet divan
Stilettos lifted to heaven
Her All Hallows gossamer is a black rose
In the midnight pool of satin
Of her cocktail dress, gold sashed at the waist
That she wears so, her skin can breathe
When his questions make her sweat
And her makeup just makes it worse
But she would feel naked without it
When she confesses that in her dreams
She is the film noir archetype
Of Dietrich in...
#beauty
#MentalHealth
#seductive
#sensual
#women
41 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
20th Jan 2025 4:02am
20th Jan 2025 4:02am
A Flowering of Compassion - Rewrite
A Flowering of Compassion
She is the red glow
Of a silk lantern
Lettered by the Chinese heart glyph
That is the shadow language of her soul
Each salt-crystal in the saline drops
Of her tears
Is a flower of compassion
For sentient suffering
Afloat on the fragrance
Of her river
My heart is adrift in the Patchouli
Of her midnight sachet
She is the red glow
Of a silk lantern
Lettered by the Chinese heart glyph
That is the shadow language of her soul
Each salt-crystal in the saline drops
Of her tears
Is a flower of compassion
For sentient suffering
Afloat on the fragrance
Of her river
My heart is adrift in the Patchouli
Of her midnight sachet
#beauty
#love
#sensual
#spiritual
#women
53 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Jan 2025 4:58am
17th Jan 2025 4:58am
Sparks and Embers
Sparks and Embers
She is the torchlight
Reflected in the eyes of a Valkyrie
When midnight moonlight
Shimmers in the pleats
Of her Stygian skirt
Like the dance of hearth flames
Unsheathed
In the naked starlight
She flickers
Like the fiery scimitar
Wielded by the angel
At the portals of Eden
She is the dream
Of a lonely wolf
That knows the soul
Of jasmine burning
With the fragrance
Of her lupine heart
She is the torchlight
Reflected in the eyes of a Valkyrie
When midnight moonlight
Shimmers in the pleats
Of her Stygian skirt
Like the dance of hearth flames
Unsheathed
In the naked starlight
She flickers
Like the fiery scimitar
Wielded by the angel
At the portals of Eden
She is the dream
Of a lonely wolf
That knows the soul
Of jasmine burning
With the fragrance
Of her lupine heart
#beauty
#coffee
#night
#sensual
#women
66 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
16th Jan 2025 00:26am
16th Jan 2025 00:26am
Peppermint Hostess
Peppermint Hostess
Peppermint hostess
From the realm of the three heavens
Eclipses my sun king
With denim fire
Her eyes are the green of rice paddies
Below the misty panda mountains of Guilin
Where turtle doves coo
In her Oriental soul
She is the dream of a silkworm
Spun in the silence of a heart
That has known the fragrance of tears
On a ghost moon night
Peppermint hostess
From the realm of the three heavens
Eclipses my sun king
With denim fire
Her eyes are the green of rice paddies
Below the misty panda mountains of Guilin
Where turtle doves coo
In her Oriental soul
She is the dream of a silkworm
Spun in the silence of a heart
That has known the fragrance of tears
On a ghost moon night
#beauty
#moon
#silence
#tea
#women
60 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Jan 2025 11:30pm
14th Jan 2025 11:30pm
Earth Navel
Earth Navel
She is the navel of the world
Who imbibes the silent sunshine
Of a golden autumn forest of light
That glimmers in the mirror pools
Of her eyes
That see into the heart of nature
And she grows like the tree rings
Of an ancient oak
That remembers the thirsty years
She is the mystery of Gaia
Whose lungs breathe the aeolian breeze
She drinks the quiet sunlight
Like a maple leaf
Pining for summer
When dusk dreams settle
In the chambers of her soul
Where the bird of paradise slumbers ...
She is the navel of the world
Who imbibes the silent sunshine
Of a golden autumn forest of light
That glimmers in the mirror pools
Of her eyes
That see into the heart of nature
And she grows like the tree rings
Of an ancient oak
That remembers the thirsty years
She is the mystery of Gaia
Whose lungs breathe the aeolian breeze
She drinks the quiet sunlight
Like a maple leaf
Pining for summer
When dusk dreams settle
In the chambers of her soul
Where the bird of paradise slumbers ...
#earth
#forest
#nature
#spiritual
#women
49 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Jan 2025 8:38am
14th Jan 2025 8:38am
Queen of Darkness
Queen of Darkness
She is the angel
Guarding the gates of her Eden
Wielding a flaming sword
Wounded but never conquered
She is friend to the serpent
In whose lair she sleeps
And the spider whose webs
Are the art that decorate her eaves
She wears her lipstick feminism
While peering through glasses
With lens made of the crystal fury
Of Bloody Mary’s cocktail glass
She is the angel
Guarding the gates of her Eden
Wielding a flaming sword
Wounded but never conquered
She is friend to the serpent
In whose lair she sleeps
And the spider whose webs
Are the art that decorate her eaves
She wears her lipstick feminism
While peering through glasses
With lens made of the crystal fury
Of Bloody Mary’s cocktail glass
#angels
#feminism
#gothic
#nature
#women
61 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Jan 2025 2:30am
13th Jan 2025 2:30am
Raven Song
Raven Song
Dragon blood runs in her veins
She is the daughter of the Stonehenge night
With eyes that see the colors of the wind
When black rainbows sing her soul to sleep
On nights when her dreams are painted red
Like Arcturus that guides sailors
In the sea of her sleeping mind
Ghosts of people long gone
In the naked light of a moon
As pale as Annabel Lee
With her peignoir parted to feel the breeze
On skin as naked as the starlight
From the open window
Where the raven speaks her name
Like a friend from long ago ...
Dragon blood runs in her veins
She is the daughter of the Stonehenge night
With eyes that see the colors of the wind
When black rainbows sing her soul to sleep
On nights when her dreams are painted red
Like Arcturus that guides sailors
In the sea of her sleeping mind
Ghosts of people long gone
In the naked light of a moon
As pale as Annabel Lee
With her peignoir parted to feel the breeze
On skin as naked as the starlight
From the open window
Where the raven speaks her name
Like a friend from long ago ...
#dragons
#dreams
#EdgarAllanPoe
#night
#women
49 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Jan 2025 3:12am
12th Jan 2025 3:12am
Priestess of Poetry
Priestess of Poetry
Sharp focus of her camera eyes
Sends solar flares into my schism
Where fire and water collide
Like the birth of the planets
She is the dark eyes of the world
That gaze upon my soul
With the heat of a thousand suns
When she breathes my heart murmurs
In the solitude of rebirth
When her comet streaks into my gilded maleness
From the outer reaches of my plasmic void
As silence is the song
When my orbit swings low
To her sweet chariot of fire
Sharp focus of her camera eyes
Sends solar flares into my schism
Where fire and water collide
Like the birth of the planets
She is the dark eyes of the world
That gaze upon my soul
With the heat of a thousand suns
When she breathes my heart murmurs
In the solitude of rebirth
When her comet streaks into my gilded maleness
From the outer reaches of my plasmic void
As silence is the song
When my orbit swings low
To her sweet chariot of fire
#admiration
#beauty
#women #WritingPoetry
#women #WritingPoetry
69 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
6th Jan 2025 1:16am
6th Jan 2025 1:16am
Spring Has Sprung
Spring Has Sprung
Jane and I lay on the yellow sandy creek beach looking at the pink glow of sunrise in the eastern sky. She reclines on her side facing me. I am supine in the sublimity of spring. We are both twenty and too old for wading in the creek. But spring has sprung and the desire to get more than our feet wet is strong. Jane’s irises are azure as glacial ice. Her complexion is that of French vanilla. Her hair is like fine corn silk which lusters in the summer sun. Her hair giggles when she walks.
At St. Catherine Creek the water appears on fire and sparkles...
Jane and I lay on the yellow sandy creek beach looking at the pink glow of sunrise in the eastern sky. She reclines on her side facing me. I am supine in the sublimity of spring. We are both twenty and too old for wading in the creek. But spring has sprung and the desire to get more than our feet wet is strong. Jane’s irises are azure as glacial ice. Her complexion is that of French vanilla. Her hair is like fine corn silk which lusters in the summer sun. Her hair giggles when she walks.
At St. Catherine Creek the water appears on fire and sparkles...
#erotic
#nature
#sensual
#spiritual
#water
40 reads
0 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
19th Dec 2024 7:34pm
19th Dec 2024 7:34pm
Petals For The Hatter’s Bands
Petals For The Hatter’s Bands
“I’ve outgrown all my sweet sixteen dresses. Being eighteen feels so strange. It is even more peculiar than falling down the rabbit hole when I was but a wee lass.”
“Don’t feel glum my dear. It will feel like a dress tailored just for you in the bat of your eyelashes.”
“Will I still get to visit you here in this wonderland I have come to call home?”
“You will see us when you dream.”
“I hope so. I’d be lost without your tea parties.”
The Hatter says, “Let me go pick the berries that...
“I’ve outgrown all my sweet sixteen dresses. Being eighteen feels so strange. It is even more peculiar than falling down the rabbit hole when I was but a wee lass.”
“Don’t feel glum my dear. It will feel like a dress tailored just for you in the bat of your eyelashes.”
“Will I still get to visit you here in this wonderland I have come to call home?”
“You will see us when you dream.”
“I hope so. I’d be lost without your tea parties.”
The Hatter says, “Let me go pick the berries that...
#dreams
#magic
#surreal
#tea
#women
77 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Dec 2024 00:19am
17th Dec 2024 00:19am
Pueblo Wedding
Pueblo Wedding
Cruising the asphalt road to Cibola
Ancient Mission beckons
From the desert shore of a primordial sea
Now sear hills in a brown terrain of mountains
We follow the river of highway
Onto the parking lot
Of the church made from the mud of ages
Shaped by earthen hands of ancestors
Whose chants haunt the whispering wind
Upon parting the gates of the sanctuary
Low and behold a Wedding unfolding
We enter the sacred space
Where ancient art
of pueblo women gathering corn
is frescoed on...
Cruising the asphalt road to Cibola
Ancient Mission beckons
From the desert shore of a primordial sea
Now sear hills in a brown terrain of mountains
We follow the river of highway
Onto the parking lot
Of the church made from the mud of ages
Shaped by earthen hands of ancestors
Whose chants haunt the whispering wind
Upon parting the gates of the sanctuary
Low and behold a Wedding unfolding
We enter the sacred space
Where ancient art
of pueblo women gathering corn
is frescoed on...
#happiness
#love
#marriage
#tradition
#travel
59 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by goldenmyst
