Submissions by goldenmyst
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Goldenmyst, 58 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.”
Goldie Goes to Church
Goldie Goes to Church
Girls gossip in the church
Way back in the pews
Where the priest can’t hear
They chatter bird tweets
About Goldie’s walking film noir diva
With her bra straps
Stained by sun poured through glass
Like from a red light bulb
Who with shades of a Jezebel found God
is decked out like an Ace in a man’s hand
But whose heart belongs to Mother Mary
While attired like Magdalene
In a place of worship
Where the sisters of mercy
Pray for her soul
Girls gossip in the church
Way back in the pews
Where the priest can’t hear
They chatter bird tweets
About Goldie’s walking film noir diva
With her bra straps
Stained by sun poured through glass
Like from a red light bulb
Who with shades of a Jezebel found God
is decked out like an Ace in a man’s hand
But whose heart belongs to Mother Mary
While attired like Magdalene
In a place of worship
Where the sisters of mercy
Pray for her soul
#religion
516 reads
4 Comments
Midnight at the Voodoo Lounge
Midnight at the Voodoo Lounge
Get your prissy self to serving drinks
You know the boss
Don’t like you popping Benzedrine
On break time
Sure you look like a 40s starlet
In that red dress with all the frills
But if you get jazzed on those pills
You might start spiking their cocktails
With crazy medicine
We might have the men
Giving the women a pat down
Like in airport security
When the camera isn’t looking
The ladies would stop patronizing us
Then the men would vanish
Like the wooly mammoths
And...
Get your prissy self to serving drinks
You know the boss
Don’t like you popping Benzedrine
On break time
Sure you look like a 40s starlet
In that red dress with all the frills
But if you get jazzed on those pills
You might start spiking their cocktails
With crazy medicine
We might have the men
Giving the women a pat down
Like in airport security
When the camera isn’t looking
The ladies would stop patronizing us
Then the men would vanish
Like the wooly mammoths
And...
#alcohol
572 reads
2 Comments
American Cannibals
American Cannibals
America, your doors are closed
You live in gated garrisons
Where love is a dying rose
Which once bloomed on Ellis Island
But hasn’t been seen since armies of salvation
Marched in Europe
When foreign tongues were welcome
From Brooklyn to New Orleans
With Russian émigrés gathered in tea houses
To find home in this faraway land
But America has become a madhouse
Where the mad are kept in
And the sane are sent back
So we tell each other we’re not crazy
And it is the rest of the world
But we...
America, your doors are closed
You live in gated garrisons
Where love is a dying rose
Which once bloomed on Ellis Island
But hasn’t been seen since armies of salvation
Marched in Europe
When foreign tongues were welcome
From Brooklyn to New Orleans
With Russian émigrés gathered in tea houses
To find home in this faraway land
But America has become a madhouse
Where the mad are kept in
And the sane are sent back
So we tell each other we’re not crazy
And it is the rest of the world
But we...
#America
500 reads
2 Comments
Hungry Tiger
Hungry Tiger
The tiger leaps like a mad gymnast
Onto a perch to spy prey
But only the elephant grass meets his eye
Like a sorrowful army
Headed back to the home front
Stradivarius of the feline family,
He salutes the grassy soldiers
With an upturned tongue
Until the windblown wave
Of weary warriors
Offers no sustenance
To the hungry carnivore
Who sulks into salivation
The tiger leaps like a mad gymnast
Onto a perch to spy prey
But only the elephant grass meets his eye
Like a sorrowful army
Headed back to the home front
Stradivarius of the feline family,
He salutes the grassy soldiers
With an upturned tongue
Until the windblown wave
Of weary warriors
Offers no sustenance
To the hungry carnivore
Who sulks into salivation
#animals
464 reads
0 Comments
Getting Off a Psyche Med Celebration!
Getting Off a Psyche Med Celebration!
Straightjacket salesmen
Let you try it on for size
In the privacy of your padded cell
Where harps bleed and hell hath no fury
But for the sooty cave art
Buried like the rubble of Troy
To be exhumed when sickos roam the earth
With trowels and vowels
Spoken secretly by KGB agents
Who striptease as a second job
Because they need to feed their Post-Modern egos
With Rubles not peanuts
Straightjacket salesmen
Let you try it on for size
In the privacy of your padded cell
Where harps bleed and hell hath no fury
But for the sooty cave art
Buried like the rubble of Troy
To be exhumed when sickos roam the earth
With trowels and vowels
Spoken secretly by KGB agents
Who striptease as a second job
Because they need to feed their Post-Modern egos
With Rubles not peanuts
#inspirational
452 reads
2 Comments
Uncle Ted
Uncle Ted
The lesson of how to deal with death was never on the curriculum in my life teaching Latin to boys in Boston. There was no textbook which could prepare me for my wife’s lymphoma.
When I sat by her side while she struggled to talk my Harvard education left me in a fog. I held her hand like when we dated. She gripped me with the strength of ten women.
I joined a grief therapy group where I met a woman. We gave each other words to hold onto which mattered and made sense. My love for my wife wasn’t diminished by my affection for this woman.
...
The lesson of how to deal with death was never on the curriculum in my life teaching Latin to boys in Boston. There was no textbook which could prepare me for my wife’s lymphoma.
When I sat by her side while she struggled to talk my Harvard education left me in a fog. I held her hand like when we dated. She gripped me with the strength of ten women.
I joined a grief therapy group where I met a woman. We gave each other words to hold onto which mattered and made sense. My love for my wife wasn’t diminished by my affection for this woman.
...
#grief
#death
456 reads
4 Comments
The Gardner
The Gardner
He pushes the tiller with the seventy-year-old strength of building houses in the swelter of summer. The eighty degrees of July are sweated off as would a rainforest lumberjack. The rows he piles with steel on soil are the womb of seeds planted by his gentle hand. Snap beans will rise on sticks to be harvested by my soft student’s fingers. Tomatoes flash under the sun like tiny Arcturuses but with juice instead of fire. At the dinner table, Grandpa says he could live off vegetables and forgo meat, while we dine on eggplant born of August winds and rain.
He pushes the tiller with the seventy-year-old strength of building houses in the swelter of summer. The eighty degrees of July are sweated off as would a rainforest lumberjack. The rows he piles with steel on soil are the womb of seeds planted by his gentle hand. Snap beans will rise on sticks to be harvested by my soft student’s fingers. Tomatoes flash under the sun like tiny Arcturuses but with juice instead of fire. At the dinner table, Grandpa says he could live off vegetables and forgo meat, while we dine on eggplant born of August winds and rain.
#aging
424 reads
2 Comments
A Grandmother
A Grandmother
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
#fiction
#prose
#aging
588 reads
4 Comments
The Woman Who Led Them Home
The Woman Who Led Them Home
Moon maiden of a thousand algorithms
Whose golden logarithms lasso Luna
With cunning calculus
To sing astronauts with celestial harmonies
Strung in cobolic vixen curves
Of lady finger codes
Moon maiden of a thousand algorithms
Whose golden logarithms lasso Luna
With cunning calculus
To sing astronauts with celestial harmonies
Strung in cobolic vixen curves
Of lady finger codes
#women
442 reads
4 Comments
Dark Angel Rhapsody
Dark Angel Rhapsody
Lying by your side
Sultry summer breeze
Blows ripples in your skirt
Leaves rustle in the wind
Your dark feathery hair
Blown about
Cascades down your shoulders
In waves of silky gossamer
Flower petals are strewn around us
In a carpet of colors,
Orange, purple, crimson
The garden alive with splashes of sunlit green
Gazing into your eyes
An ocean of sadness spreads out before me
Dark shadings of love
Shadowed by numbing coolness
Seeing your...
Lying by your side
Sultry summer breeze
Blows ripples in your skirt
Leaves rustle in the wind
Your dark feathery hair
Blown about
Cascades down your shoulders
In waves of silky gossamer
Flower petals are strewn around us
In a carpet of colors,
Orange, purple, crimson
The garden alive with splashes of sunlit green
Gazing into your eyes
An ocean of sadness spreads out before me
Dark shadings of love
Shadowed by numbing coolness
Seeing your...
#love
517 reads
2 Comments
Burgundy Love
Burgundy Love
Within your eyes are myriad worlds
Waiting to be explored
Emerald irises bewitch me
Your face aglow with burgundy love
Each touch blossoms in blood red rose
Prismatic cascade of your caress
Colors my heart
In rainbow kaleidoscope
Though my very being rests in your care
Fear does not enter into my dream
Vulnerable as a new born babe
You embrace my emotional core
Our counter point duet
Of celestial harmonies
Singing like angelic choirs
In cathedrals of heaven ...
Within your eyes are myriad worlds
Waiting to be explored
Emerald irises bewitch me
Your face aglow with burgundy love
Each touch blossoms in blood red rose
Prismatic cascade of your caress
Colors my heart
In rainbow kaleidoscope
Though my very being rests in your care
Fear does not enter into my dream
Vulnerable as a new born babe
You embrace my emotional core
Our counter point duet
Of celestial harmonies
Singing like angelic choirs
In cathedrals of heaven ...
#lover
590 reads
2 Comments
Dylanesque Psychedelia 1991
Dylanesque Psychedelia 1991
Dimly lit pot fest
With the bard on stage
His voice garbled like after a drunk
But applause breaks out
Like cockatoos from an aviary
With Dylan the psychic interloper
Who unlocks their dreams
To project onto his screen
Like stoners from heaven
While parrots are led out by zookeepers
High on LSD-25
But feathers only slightly ruffled
The air sparkles with Cannabis
Like cherry blossoms in the Kyoto spring
Until...
Dimly lit pot fest
With the bard on stage
His voice garbled like after a drunk
But applause breaks out
Like cockatoos from an aviary
With Dylan the psychic interloper
Who unlocks their dreams
To project onto his screen
Like stoners from heaven
While parrots are led out by zookeepers
High on LSD-25
But feathers only slightly ruffled
The air sparkles with Cannabis
Like cherry blossoms in the Kyoto spring
Until...
#marijuana
484 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by goldenmyst