Submissions by goldenmyst
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction Goldenmyst, 55 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.”
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
31st Jul 2021 8:09am
31st Jul 2021 8:09am
Coffee Heaven
Coffee Heaven
My friendly Barista Girl delivers my coffee and bagel on winged feet with a Kirlian aura effect that makes me tingle like a mystic on fire with waves of her hospitality. Then the magic begins. She offers in earnest to get me a plate as though the paper bag isn’t enough for my bagel dining. When I assure her of the utility of my bag she looks distraught and says, “Please, let me get you a plate for your dining. You need it and I am more than willing to fulfill your needs.”
“You are most gracious. If it isn’t an inconvenience I would be most grateful for...
My friendly Barista Girl delivers my coffee and bagel on winged feet with a Kirlian aura effect that makes me tingle like a mystic on fire with waves of her hospitality. Then the magic begins. She offers in earnest to get me a plate as though the paper bag isn’t enough for my bagel dining. When I assure her of the utility of my bag she looks distraught and says, “Please, let me get you a plate for your dining. You need it and I am more than willing to fulfill your needs.”
“You are most gracious. If it isn’t an inconvenience I would be most grateful for...
#love
#women
#rebirth
#coffee
#heaven
16 reads
7 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
30th Jul 2021 3:56am
30th Jul 2021 3:56am
Barista Girl Tease
Barista Girl Tease
I ask her, “Why do you look so serious? But your eyes burn like those of jade.”
“On spring break in the Yucatan, I saw so many of those embedded in the faces of jaguars sculpted by Mayans.”
“If it weren’t for your bare midriff and daring cleavage I’d take you for a Russian maiden instead of the tropic orchid you clearly are.”
“My mother is from Murmansk where it is very cold. But my father is from the isle of Rhodes whose name refers to a sunny Mediterranean beauty spot instead of the scholar.”
“I bet the...
I ask her, “Why do you look so serious? But your eyes burn like those of jade.”
“On spring break in the Yucatan, I saw so many of those embedded in the faces of jaguars sculpted by Mayans.”
“If it weren’t for your bare midriff and daring cleavage I’d take you for a Russian maiden instead of the tropic orchid you clearly are.”
“My mother is from Murmansk where it is very cold. But my father is from the isle of Rhodes whose name refers to a sunny Mediterranean beauty spot instead of the scholar.”
“I bet the...
#lust
#women
#men
#dreams
#coffee
15 reads
6 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
29th Jul 2021 2:13am
29th Jul 2021 2:13am
Coffee Shop Francophile
Coffee Shop Francophile
She is crouched like a tigress with her derrière in full moon but for her jean shorts. Her face is in the condiment cooler until she looks back with a eureka smile and gives me a triumphant thumbs-up proclaiming she found the coffee shop caviar better known as hummus for my bagel.
She says, “You watched me the whole time. The look on your face is one of a man who got caught with his eyes on the cookie prize. But I know you were excited by the condom I mean condiment. Pardon my Freudian slip. Please take a seat and it will be my pleasure to...
She is crouched like a tigress with her derrière in full moon but for her jean shorts. Her face is in the condiment cooler until she looks back with a eureka smile and gives me a triumphant thumbs-up proclaiming she found the coffee shop caviar better known as hummus for my bagel.
She says, “You watched me the whole time. The look on your face is one of a man who got caught with his eyes on the cookie prize. But I know you were excited by the condom I mean condiment. Pardon my Freudian slip. Please take a seat and it will be my pleasure to...
#women
#romantic
#coffee
#funny
#sensual
11 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
28th Jul 2021 4:57am
28th Jul 2021 4:57am
Lipstick Valentine
Lipstick Valentine
“Madam, would you please put more milk in my coffee?”
“Of course.”
“But if you will, pour some out first. I like my coffee well milked.”
“That is a funny way of putting it. But I don’t mind.”
“Very nice. Are there any perks to the usual Barista girl services here?”
“I can’t imagine what you mean. Actually, I can but prefer not to.”
“Well let me jog your imagination. Would you be so kind as to leave a lipstick print on my cup? I will compensate you with a generous tip.”
“Not sure I feel comfortable...
“Madam, would you please put more milk in my coffee?”
“Of course.”
“But if you will, pour some out first. I like my coffee well milked.”
“That is a funny way of putting it. But I don’t mind.”
“Very nice. Are there any perks to the usual Barista girl services here?”
“I can’t imagine what you mean. Actually, I can but prefer not to.”
“Well let me jog your imagination. Would you be so kind as to leave a lipstick print on my cup? I will compensate you with a generous tip.”
“Not sure I feel comfortable...
#romantic
#ValentinesDay
#coffee #WilliamShakespeare
#coffee #WilliamShakespeare
13 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
23rd Jul 2021 4:46am
23rd Jul 2021 4:46am
Mountain Storm
Mountain Storm
Gentlemen oaks usher mountaineers
On Appalachian fern gold
Whose fronds are lush with dreams
That gather in the mossy cusp of nature’s beautician
Who makes a patchwork quilt of green
On rocky heads of ancient totems
We emerge onto a bald God’s summit
Below clouds grow restless
As troops with no war
Who throw electric javelins
While bloodletting water
Bled from the earth
Whose aerial arteries
Flow in mist and rain
My sight blurs in flood on glasses
That obscures all but light
“Oh my God!”...
Gentlemen oaks usher mountaineers
On Appalachian fern gold
Whose fronds are lush with dreams
That gather in the mossy cusp of nature’s beautician
Who makes a patchwork quilt of green
On rocky heads of ancient totems
We emerge onto a bald God’s summit
Below clouds grow restless
As troops with no war
Who throw electric javelins
While bloodletting water
Bled from the earth
Whose aerial arteries
Flow in mist and rain
My sight blurs in flood on glasses
That obscures all but light
“Oh my God!”...
#marriage
#rain
#storm
#nature
#lover
21 reads
0 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
22nd Jul 2021 7:21am
22nd Jul 2021 7:21am
Victoria’s Settlement
Victoria’s Settlement
When I check my mail in the lobby there is a note from a woman with whom I spent nights at the skating rink in my fairy tale past. We tied the knot until she felt I was more like a boyfriend than a husband due to my leisurely manner in breadwinner matters and my maxing the plastic to mail order from a lingerie catalog which both affected our credit and made her feel like a burlesque dancer when I asked her to parade around in them. I knew she was here in Denver but had tried to hide from her to protect my newfound monasticism. But the slip of...
When I check my mail in the lobby there is a note from a woman with whom I spent nights at the skating rink in my fairy tale past. We tied the knot until she felt I was more like a boyfriend than a husband due to my leisurely manner in breadwinner matters and my maxing the plastic to mail order from a lingerie catalog which both affected our credit and made her feel like a burlesque dancer when I asked her to parade around in them. I knew she was here in Denver but had tried to hide from her to protect my newfound monasticism. But the slip of...
#love
#romantic
#breakup
#memories
#nostalgia
31 reads
4 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
19th Jul 2021 1:16am
19th Jul 2021 1:16am
The Thousand Rooms of Her Soul
The Thousand Rooms of Her Soul
Eden grows on Eve’s foothills where ambient sunshine beams down on ancient tea rooms in the sky. You browse the library of the Milky Way whose books are stars with gold leaf pages that have not lost their luster sealed in Alhambra centuries of Maimonides who is your Sephardic Sufi. I watch you in the court of Alfonso the X where you are a female troubadour lost to the mists of time.
You introduce yourself as Comtessa. The tongues you speak come from another rapture whose muse gives you the songs you write that make the green fruit...
Eden grows on Eve’s foothills where ambient sunshine beams down on ancient tea rooms in the sky. You browse the library of the Milky Way whose books are stars with gold leaf pages that have not lost their luster sealed in Alhambra centuries of Maimonides who is your Sephardic Sufi. I watch you in the court of Alfonso the X where you are a female troubadour lost to the mists of time.
You introduce yourself as Comtessa. The tongues you speak come from another rapture whose muse gives you the songs you write that make the green fruit...
#erotic
#music
#mythology
#historical
#sensual
30 reads
10 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
16th Jul 2021 1:05am
16th Jul 2021 1:05am
Charity Work
Charity Work
“So sweet of you to say ‘Enjoy’ and ‘You’re welcome to my ‘Thank you.’”
“Well, what else would I say to your eye contact while receiving your bagel from me? Not every customer stares me straight in my eyes so fixedly.”
“Then you don’t mind my gaze or maybe even like it.”
“You are a voyeur with a good heart. You looked at my eyes instead of my legs which is better than many of the lechers here. When a man beholds me above the waist he wins points in my heart.”
“When you went back through the door I glanced at your legs....
“So sweet of you to say ‘Enjoy’ and ‘You’re welcome to my ‘Thank you.’”
“Well, what else would I say to your eye contact while receiving your bagel from me? Not every customer stares me straight in my eyes so fixedly.”
“Then you don’t mind my gaze or maybe even like it.”
“You are a voyeur with a good heart. You looked at my eyes instead of my legs which is better than many of the lechers here. When a man beholds me above the waist he wins points in my heart.”
“When you went back through the door I glanced at your legs....
#lust
#women
#coffee
#dialogue
#sexy
30 reads
4 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
14th Jul 2021 1:33am
14th Jul 2021 1:33am
While Eva’s Hearth Gently Heats
While Eva’s Hearth Gently Heats
A Mexican Madonna takes her baby son all the way across the border from Mexico to America. There she hitchhikes to the Acoma pueblo where she hears immigrants can find asylum. Since the Indian Reservations are sovereign states they will be safe there.
Upon arrival a flock of women circles her in a Mandala that taps the earth in deeply rooted organic fusion.
So she stands at the cliffs of the pueblo looking out at the sunset while holding her infant son. For the first time in her life, she feels secure. The scent of...
A Mexican Madonna takes her baby son all the way across the border from Mexico to America. There she hitchhikes to the Acoma pueblo where she hears immigrants can find asylum. Since the Indian Reservations are sovereign states they will be safe there.
Upon arrival a flock of women circles her in a Mandala that taps the earth in deeply rooted organic fusion.
So she stands at the cliffs of the pueblo looking out at the sunset while holding her infant son. For the first time in her life, she feels secure. The scent of...
#mother
#children
#wife
#husband
#sensual
21 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
8th Jul 2021 6:28am
8th Jul 2021 6:28am
Mardi Gras Girl
Mardi Gras Girl
“Apologies Sir, but this girl is in training. But don’t let her ankle-length dress and cornfield personality fool you she is plenty wild with the right patron.”
The trainee replies, “Sir, don’t listen to her. I am straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. If I were any more naïve I’d be an Amish wife instead of here where my feminine features are accentuated under the spotlight.”
I put a dollar in the tip jar and Iowa girl timbres her thanks deeply.
The cornfield girl brings the bagel and coffee to my table....
“Apologies Sir, but this girl is in training. But don’t let her ankle-length dress and cornfield personality fool you she is plenty wild with the right patron.”
The trainee replies, “Sir, don’t listen to her. I am straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. If I were any more naïve I’d be an Amish wife instead of here where my feminine features are accentuated under the spotlight.”
I put a dollar in the tip jar and Iowa girl timbres her thanks deeply.
The cornfield girl brings the bagel and coffee to my table....
#coffee
#historical
#sexy #tradition
#sexy #tradition
26 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
7th Jul 2021 11:36pm
7th Jul 2021 11:36pm
Old Man of Walpi
Old Man of Walpi
Windblown sand smile
Is a night-blooming cereus
That gathers ancient ghosts
In circle of slow fire melody
Whose embers smoke heaven
Like fine tobacco
In his inner peace pipe
That glows with the fire of dust
Of ashen piles in the gold of love
Whose gourd rattles
With seeds to be planted
In rows where the dark earth
Gathers her skirts to dance
Windblown sand smile
Is a night-blooming cereus
That gathers ancient ghosts
In circle of slow fire melody
Whose embers smoke heaven
Like fine tobacco
In his inner peace pipe
That glows with the fire of dust
Of ashen piles in the gold of love
Whose gourd rattles
With seeds to be planted
In rows where the dark earth
Gathers her skirts to dance
#nature
#spiritual
#aging #historical
#aging #historical
26 reads
7 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
3rd Jul 2021 10:54pm
3rd Jul 2021 10:54pm
Golden Delicious
Golden Delicious
“Sir, why are you looking away from me? I know I am not the most beautiful girl here but give me a chance and you might get used to me.”
“Honey, you are never the same. Each day you show a new side that isn’t just your lipstick or makeup. So I could never get used to you when you surprise me from the tint of your hair to your nail polish.”
“The things you speak of are the surface of my femininity. I would hope that you look deeper than my cosmetics. But really what diverted your attention from me? You looked like an archaeologist...
“Sir, why are you looking away from me? I know I am not the most beautiful girl here but give me a chance and you might get used to me.”
“Honey, you are never the same. Each day you show a new side that isn’t just your lipstick or makeup. So I could never get used to you when you surprise me from the tint of your hair to your nail polish.”
“The things you speak of are the surface of my femininity. I would hope that you look deeper than my cosmetics. But really what diverted your attention from me? You looked like an archaeologist...
#dreams
#coffee
#funny
#dialogue
#sensual
31 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by goldenmyst
