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.”
Monday
Monday
I step out onto the rain-slicked streets and into the humid but cooler air. Traffic whizzes by like bees. People run like mice in a wheel, getting nowhere fast. In offices lost to time, there is an endless shuffling of paper. People clack keyboards and words trickle. Printers spew out reams of figures. My tired bloodshot eyes stare at the coffee mug.
I dream of a sunrise far away across the ruins of time in some land lost to memory where a lover serenades his beloved as she stands on the balcony before the rising sun. Laughing children scatter across fields whose...
I step out onto the rain-slicked streets and into the humid but cooler air. Traffic whizzes by like bees. People run like mice in a wheel, getting nowhere fast. In offices lost to time, there is an endless shuffling of paper. People clack keyboards and words trickle. Printers spew out reams of figures. My tired bloodshot eyes stare at the coffee mug.
I dream of a sunrise far away across the ruins of time in some land lost to memory where a lover serenades his beloved as she stands on the balcony before the rising sun. Laughing children scatter across fields whose...
#technology
#nature
579 reads
6 Comments
New Mexican Mother and Son
New Mexican Mother and Son
The street welcomes us with mariachi under the ghost moon. I pull my son along by his pillowy little hand with my bony fingers. Under the dusk light, the atmosphere is scented with tequila fumes, mixed with a blast of pungent garlic, and onion so strong tears form in my eyes. People weave like yarn in a loom. There the grocery smells like a kitchen where tamales are steamed in a banana leaf with the sweetness of a mother’s love on a summer’s night.
He is a cherub whose wings carry him down the aisle past racks of chili peppers. His tiny...
The street welcomes us with mariachi under the ghost moon. I pull my son along by his pillowy little hand with my bony fingers. Under the dusk light, the atmosphere is scented with tequila fumes, mixed with a blast of pungent garlic, and onion so strong tears form in my eyes. People weave like yarn in a loom. There the grocery smells like a kitchen where tamales are steamed in a banana leaf with the sweetness of a mother’s love on a summer’s night.
He is a cherub whose wings carry him down the aisle past racks of chili peppers. His tiny...
565 reads
4 Comments
A Mother's Love
A Mother's Love
One fall morning in late September, Rodrigo lies in his crib next to the bed crying. I remove his toddler outfit to let him bask in the sun. He rolls in the tomato patch dirt of our apartment courtyard. Then I bathe him in the outdoor bucket which he loves. His belly jiggles as I tickle his tummy. His mirth makes me laugh too.
My hands rub him and wash him in Mother Nature’s baptism. I send water flowing across him. Bye bye baby blues for my son. My baby, in hopscotch training, kicks like a frog. When he kicked within my womb,...
One fall morning in late September, Rodrigo lies in his crib next to the bed crying. I remove his toddler outfit to let him bask in the sun. He rolls in the tomato patch dirt of our apartment courtyard. Then I bathe him in the outdoor bucket which he loves. His belly jiggles as I tickle his tummy. His mirth makes me laugh too.
My hands rub him and wash him in Mother Nature’s baptism. I send water flowing across him. Bye bye baby blues for my son. My baby, in hopscotch training, kicks like a frog. When he kicked within my womb,...
870 reads
8 Comments
Mr. Peek-a-Boo Eyes and Ms. Heartache
Mr. Peek-a-Boo Eyes and Ms. Heartache
Rosie and I are a strapping young lass and lad, fresh out of the madhouse. Our compass points true north but leads us to icebergs. We need a navigator to take our marital rudder. Our quest takes us to a group therapy center for the poor in our home of New Orleans.
The leader, whose group we are assigned to, is absent that day. In her place is a raven-haired priestess whose dark and smoky mezzo timbre gives me a natural high. Her name is Amber. I instantly trust her.
On our first day, I decided to tease...
Rosie and I are a strapping young lass and lad, fresh out of the madhouse. Our compass points true north but leads us to icebergs. We need a navigator to take our marital rudder. Our quest takes us to a group therapy center for the poor in our home of New Orleans.
The leader, whose group we are assigned to, is absent that day. In her place is a raven-haired priestess whose dark and smoky mezzo timbre gives me a natural high. Her name is Amber. I instantly trust her.
On our first day, I decided to tease...
#narrative
#prose
655 reads
4 Comments
Girl From the Old Country
Girl From the Old Country
My gait has a new liveliness which can only be that of a lover. My fifty-year-old legs carry me down the colonial avenues of the French Quarter to the wharf where the schooner holds my mystery woman. Though I’ve never set eyes on her, the prospect of this woman fresh from the convent but ready to break her vow of chastity enthralls me.
And so before me, the schooner with sails furled beckons with the passenger who is to be my wife. Like a Christmas present as yet unwrapped I hold her in my mind. The gangplank is rolled out. With each...
My gait has a new liveliness which can only be that of a lover. My fifty-year-old legs carry me down the colonial avenues of the French Quarter to the wharf where the schooner holds my mystery woman. Though I’ve never set eyes on her, the prospect of this woman fresh from the convent but ready to break her vow of chastity enthralls me.
And so before me, the schooner with sails furled beckons with the passenger who is to be my wife. Like a Christmas present as yet unwrapped I hold her in my mind. The gangplank is rolled out. With each...
#love
#women
#men
#religion
#music
597 reads
8 Comments
Sweet Sixteen
Sweet Sixteen
Way out in the boondocks down Barataria Boulevard in Marrero you can hear the gators at night. Out here in the boonies big rigs blow their horns for little boys who dream of one day being truckers. This is where New Orleans sophistication turns countrified. We meet at “Where Ya At Pizzeria” The place is made from a converted warehouse and surrounded by empty lots of abandoned boatyards. Darlene gives me a heads up that her daughter is gorgeous as a model. So when the girl walks up in her tight cotton shorts, I avert my eyes to keep from turning into a pillar of...
Way out in the boondocks down Barataria Boulevard in Marrero you can hear the gators at night. Out here in the boonies big rigs blow their horns for little boys who dream of one day being truckers. This is where New Orleans sophistication turns countrified. We meet at “Where Ya At Pizzeria” The place is made from a converted warehouse and surrounded by empty lots of abandoned boatyards. Darlene gives me a heads up that her daughter is gorgeous as a model. So when the girl walks up in her tight cotton shorts, I avert my eyes to keep from turning into a pillar of...
#lover
#LifeCycle
#SelfReflection
#PopCulture
#metaphor
857 reads
8 Comments
Christmas Eve
Christmas Eve
Pastel sunset shines through clouds
Pale blue sky etched with crimson
Sun sinks in fiery burst
Darkness lays across the land
Wind blows across corn fields
Train whistle blows a plaintive note
Stars sparkle on like Christmas tree lights
We lay in December chill
In dome tent
On air mattress cushion
Rain flap unneeded
Gossamer net mesh ceiling
Translucent to moonbeams
As we lie bundled beneath a wool blanket
Amongst waving tassels of corn ...
Pastel sunset shines through clouds
Pale blue sky etched with crimson
Sun sinks in fiery burst
Darkness lays across the land
Wind blows across corn fields
Train whistle blows a plaintive note
Stars sparkle on like Christmas tree lights
We lay in December chill
In dome tent
On air mattress cushion
Rain flap unneeded
Gossamer net mesh ceiling
Translucent to moonbeams
As we lie bundled beneath a wool blanket
Amongst waving tassels of corn ...
#Christmas
709 reads
4 Comments
Anniversary in Las Vegas
Anniversary in Las Vegas
The manager opens his arms in a behold gesture. He says, “Get naked. Get high. Our hot tubs are designed for intimate encounters. We can even have some of our gorgeous ladies accompany you and your wife for the night of a lifetime.”
I grab my honey by the buns. She laughs and says, “Darling, not in front of the spa guy.” My squeeze turns to a pat on her derriere. I tell the spa dude, “Sex is best one on one. So we’ll forgo the extra add-ins to our night in paradise. She is all I ever need or want.”
He stops...
The manager opens his arms in a behold gesture. He says, “Get naked. Get high. Our hot tubs are designed for intimate encounters. We can even have some of our gorgeous ladies accompany you and your wife for the night of a lifetime.”
I grab my honey by the buns. She laughs and says, “Darling, not in front of the spa guy.” My squeeze turns to a pat on her derriere. I tell the spa dude, “Sex is best one on one. So we’ll forgo the extra add-ins to our night in paradise. She is all I ever need or want.”
He stops...
#narrative
#prose
603 reads
2 Comments
Feminist Twist
Feminist Twist
My Gal, Mary, says, “You are high as Mt Everest you dirty boy.”
I gather my rosebuds. “Like yes, I’m high. But I’m never too out there to make love.”
Mary covers her eyes and does a Tai Chi repelling the monkey to push me away. “Get away from me you silly psychonaut. I can’t do it with you when you get those glassy eyes and cough. You’ll just have to wait till the pot wears off before you can have me in bed.”
I hold her dainty hand in my prayer fingers. “Oh please don’t be so small minded. I’m at my best in sex when...
My Gal, Mary, says, “You are high as Mt Everest you dirty boy.”
I gather my rosebuds. “Like yes, I’m high. But I’m never too out there to make love.”
Mary covers her eyes and does a Tai Chi repelling the monkey to push me away. “Get away from me you silly psychonaut. I can’t do it with you when you get those glassy eyes and cough. You’ll just have to wait till the pot wears off before you can have me in bed.”
I hold her dainty hand in my prayer fingers. “Oh please don’t be so small minded. I’m at my best in sex when...
#sex
#erotic
#confessional
#lover
#sexy
516 reads
4 Comments
Dollar Store Girl
Dollar Store Girl
A girl holds up a skimpy pull over. “Hey, mister. Do you think this is a dress? I’m not sure.”
My beamish boyish eyes feast on her youth. “I’m not sure if it’s a dress. But you would look great in it. I’d love to see you try it on.”
She giggles. “Is that a come on? I’d love to model it for you. You look like a man who appreciates the female form. I love men with a touch of grey too.”
In my imagination, she wears the beachwear. “You look half my age. But as they say, age doesn’t matter. I love younger women. You make...
A girl holds up a skimpy pull over. “Hey, mister. Do you think this is a dress? I’m not sure.”
My beamish boyish eyes feast on her youth. “I’m not sure if it’s a dress. But you would look great in it. I’d love to see you try it on.”
She giggles. “Is that a come on? I’d love to model it for you. You look like a man who appreciates the female form. I love men with a touch of grey too.”
In my imagination, she wears the beachwear. “You look half my age. But as they say, age doesn’t matter. I love younger women. You make...
#lust
#romantic
#erotic #temptation
#erotic #temptation
672 reads
6 Comments
Freshman in College
Freshman in College
I am dazed in English Comp. I am an eighteen-year-old student hobo adrift in summer session. The instructor’s words sift through the sieve of my mind.
The class is dismissed and I dart through the door. A raven-haired beauty lassoes me. Her plea is for an essay collaborator. “Why me?” is my reply.
Her answer, “Your glasses make you look smart. All I need is a C to stay on cheerleader squad.”
We sit in the dorm recreation area with the partition closed. We are alone together and huddled in academic conspiracy. Her pen inscribes my...
I am dazed in English Comp. I am an eighteen-year-old student hobo adrift in summer session. The instructor’s words sift through the sieve of my mind.
The class is dismissed and I dart through the door. A raven-haired beauty lassoes me. Her plea is for an essay collaborator. “Why me?” is my reply.
Her answer, “Your glasses make you look smart. All I need is a C to stay on cheerleader squad.”
We sit in the dorm recreation area with the partition closed. We are alone together and huddled in academic conspiracy. Her pen inscribes my...
#lust
#sex
#erotic
#lover
#crush
537 reads
2 Comments
Daphne and Diana: A Sensual Retelling of Myth
Daphne and Diana
Intro:
"Diana was the goddess of the moon and of hunting and protectress of women. Daphne, daughter of Peneus, a rival of Diana the virgin Goddess, “had many suitors, but she scorned them all; wanting no part of any man, she traveled the pathless groves, and had no care whatever for husband, love, or marriage.”
A variation on a theme by Ovid:
The forest is alive with the call of songbirds and the howling of wolves this morning as mother earth awakens from her slumbers. Mists rise from the stream which sparkles...
Intro:
"Diana was the goddess of the moon and of hunting and protectress of women. Daphne, daughter of Peneus, a rival of Diana the virgin Goddess, “had many suitors, but she scorned them all; wanting no part of any man, she traveled the pathless groves, and had no care whatever for husband, love, or marriage.”
A variation on a theme by Ovid:
The forest is alive with the call of songbirds and the howling of wolves this morning as mother earth awakens from her slumbers. Mists rise from the stream which sparkles...
#prose
#sensual
538 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by goldenmyst