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.”
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
112 reads
2 Comments
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
65 reads
2 Comments
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
88 reads
2 Comments
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
50 reads
0 Comments
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
95 reads
0 Comments
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
70 reads
2 Comments
Pastel Angel

#erotic
#river
#seductive
#sensual
#women
93 reads
2 Comments
Sirens of the Secretarial Coven
Sirens of the Secretarial Coven
My non-traditional for men job quest
Lands me in the typist’s oasis
Of the secretarial pool of Portland, Maine
I enter the perfumed office parlor
Of the skirted realm
Whose rose-scented atmosphere
Holds hope for the dream job
Of female cohorts
For a young man with great expectations
In the pursuit of happiness
To be found among blouses
Where I am to be administered the typing test
By an instructress introduced by her sister in ink as:
“Don’t worry John, she won’t bite. ...
My non-traditional for men job quest
Lands me in the typist’s oasis
Of the secretarial pool of Portland, Maine
I enter the perfumed office parlor
Of the skirted realm
Whose rose-scented atmosphere
Holds hope for the dream job
Of female cohorts
For a young man with great expectations
In the pursuit of happiness
To be found among blouses
Where I am to be administered the typing test
By an instructress introduced by her sister in ink as:
“Don’t worry John, she won’t bite. ...
#job
#seductive
#sensual
#teens
#women
71 reads
0 Comments
Helen of Troy
Helen of Troy
The crème de menthe of her eyes
Cool as mint chocolate ice cream
With whipped cream complexion
Topped in strawberry tresses
With raspberry lipstick
Painted on her wry smile
Like pomegranate stain
To sweeten a night like tonight
When dreams of her kiss
Float in her blueberry eyes
To melt in the gaze
Of my little boy blues
Witness to her fair Helen of Troy face
Afloat her wine dark Aegean waves
That summon the Odysseus
Hiding in my Ithaca
The crème de menthe of her eyes
Cool as mint chocolate ice cream
With whipped cream complexion
Topped in strawberry tresses
With raspberry lipstick
Painted on her wry smile
Like pomegranate stain
To sweeten a night like tonight
When dreams of her kiss
Float in her blueberry eyes
To melt in the gaze
Of my little boy blues
Witness to her fair Helen of Troy face
Afloat her wine dark Aegean waves
That summon the Odysseus
Hiding in my Ithaca
#beauty
#mythology
#seductive
#sensual
#women
56 reads
0 Comments
Barista Felicity
Barista Felicity
Denim ballerina
With angelic smile halo
Sets peppermint tongued sex flame
On my plutonium heated hearth
With jeans tight as leotards
For her pas de bourrée
When her steamy laughter
Is a chassé for each step
Into the heart of lipstick dreams
When tea is a Dionysian ceremony
Denim ballerina
With angelic smile halo
Sets peppermint tongued sex flame
On my plutonium heated hearth
With jeans tight as leotards
For her pas de bourrée
When her steamy laughter
Is a chassé for each step
Into the heart of lipstick dreams
When tea is a Dionysian ceremony
#beauty
#seductive
#sensual
#tea
#women
89 reads
4 Comments
My Lioness Flickers Between Serengeti Moonbeams
My Lioness Flickers Between Serengeti Moonbeams
Our African vacation starts at a luxury hotel in Nairobi. But I pine for a photographic safari into the Serengeti. Over breakfast, I break some news for Jane. “Hey let’s try this on for size. Jane, I want to take you on a safari into Tanzania. Maybe we’ll have an adventure like in a J.G. Ballard novel.”
She says, “You’re so crazy, but truly we could face off with a pride of lions looking for supper. The signs ain’t good darling. The continental breakfast bar at this hotel is more than enough for me. We can go to the...
Our African vacation starts at a luxury hotel in Nairobi. But I pine for a photographic safari into the Serengeti. Over breakfast, I break some news for Jane. “Hey let’s try this on for size. Jane, I want to take you on a safari into Tanzania. Maybe we’ll have an adventure like in a J.G. Ballard novel.”
She says, “You’re so crazy, but truly we could face off with a pride of lions looking for supper. The signs ain’t good darling. The continental breakfast bar at this hotel is more than enough for me. We can go to the...
#Africa
#love
#marriage
#sensual
#son
63 reads
0 Comments
When a Woman Hopes
When a Woman Hopes
Tresses dark as prairie loess
with glint of sun diamond
peeking through her smile
Of hope on dust bowl days
When the blues are her sky
But rays of love glow in her heart
On the eve of a horizon clouded
But filled with yonder traces
Of a future-light from her maw maw’s dream
On evenings that wrap around her shoulders
With grandma’s Afghan
Woven in the crisscross of wheat tassels
For the breadbasket of her heart
Tresses dark as prairie loess
with glint of sun diamond
peeking through her smile
Of hope on dust bowl days
When the blues are her sky
But rays of love glow in her heart
On the eve of a horizon clouded
But filled with yonder traces
Of a future-light from her maw maw’s dream
On evenings that wrap around her shoulders
With grandma’s Afghan
Woven in the crisscross of wheat tassels
For the breadbasket of her heart
#America
#dreams
#feminism
#hope
#women
89 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by goldenmyst