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.”
EROTIC POEM
Published
18th Oct 2015 00:07am
18th Oct 2015 00:07am
The Girl with the Flaxen Hair
The Girl with the Flaxen Hair
Honey hair haloed in flaxen sheen
Her eyes gleam with glint of soul transfusion
And feed into my hungry Chakra galaxy
Each node of her path to heaven
Pulses into my sensory web
We interlace
In Scheherazade tapestry
Born of double helix alchemy
Her summer eyes
Sun my fractal
Into cellular Eden
Genetic history recited
In epic poetry
Of ancestral merge
Honey hair haloed in flaxen sheen
Her eyes gleam with glint of soul transfusion
And feed into my hungry Chakra galaxy
Each node of her path to heaven
Pulses into my sensory web
We interlace
In Scheherazade tapestry
Born of double helix alchemy
Her summer eyes
Sun my fractal
Into cellular Eden
Genetic history recited
In epic poetry
Of ancestral merge
1094 reads
7 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
17th Oct 2015 9:27pm
17th Oct 2015 9:27pm
Professeur de Mathématiques
Professeur de Mathématiques
Poised at the chalk board
She wrote formulas
Wearing a mini-skirt
Her derriere barely concealed
She dipped daintily down at the waist
A scholar and a seductress
A figure more beautiful
Than any algebraic equation
My mind mesmerized by curves
My eyes led astray from Pythagorean Theorem
Perhaps a feminist saboteur
Playing on vulnerable male libidos
Man protests her dress drives him to distraction
Her non-compliance expressed by silence
As she obdurately prances
...
Poised at the chalk board
She wrote formulas
Wearing a mini-skirt
Her derriere barely concealed
She dipped daintily down at the waist
A scholar and a seductress
A figure more beautiful
Than any algebraic equation
My mind mesmerized by curves
My eyes led astray from Pythagorean Theorem
Perhaps a feminist saboteur
Playing on vulnerable male libidos
Man protests her dress drives him to distraction
Her non-compliance expressed by silence
As she obdurately prances
...
809 reads
5 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
16th Oct 2015 6:44pm
16th Oct 2015 6:44pm
Sonja at 18 {rewritten with lots of editing and honing.}
Sonja at 18 {rewritten with lots of editing and honing.}
Our healing village is down by the levee in New Orleans. I am deep in Psyche hospital funk. Then a cappuccino hued girl with raven hair walks into my life.
From the moment she comes in I am entranced by her. She is an 18 year old girl of Honduran descent who enchants me. She has a lyrical way of talking. Her talk is sheer sensual poetry in words. Her name is Sonja.
When I first meet her I think she is unapproachable. She seems like a yuppie who won’t be interested in a dotty guy who talks...
Our healing village is down by the levee in New Orleans. I am deep in Psyche hospital funk. Then a cappuccino hued girl with raven hair walks into my life.
From the moment she comes in I am entranced by her. She is an 18 year old girl of Honduran descent who enchants me. She has a lyrical way of talking. Her talk is sheer sensual poetry in words. Her name is Sonja.
When I first meet her I think she is unapproachable. She seems like a yuppie who won’t be interested in a dotty guy who talks...
891 reads
7 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
16th Oct 2015 3:49am
16th Oct 2015 3:49am
Night Nurse
Night Nurse
Twilight dream sea, I sink deep into oceanic bliss
Eyes twinkling open in shadowy chamber
Statuesque blonde Goddess
Gazes down on my supine form
Firm resolve written in her obsidian eyes
My trembling voice offers acquiescence
To her regal dominion
Slender fingers grasp the hypodermic
As she orders me on my side
Decreeing that I expose my posterior
My compliance inadequate
She nimbly grasps the hem of my briefs
In one fluid motion
Briskly tugs my pajama bottoms down
Leaving my nether regions bare and...
Twilight dream sea, I sink deep into oceanic bliss
Eyes twinkling open in shadowy chamber
Statuesque blonde Goddess
Gazes down on my supine form
Firm resolve written in her obsidian eyes
My trembling voice offers acquiescence
To her regal dominion
Slender fingers grasp the hypodermic
As she orders me on my side
Decreeing that I expose my posterior
My compliance inadequate
She nimbly grasps the hem of my briefs
In one fluid motion
Briskly tugs my pajama bottoms down
Leaving my nether regions bare and...
955 reads
6 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
16th Oct 2015 1:59am
16th Oct 2015 1:59am
Priestess to the Mad
Priestess to the Mad
She led me into calm pastures
Where sky streamed in blue sea of harmony
A counselor priestess to the mad
Her smile illuminated the dark crevices of my heart
She invited my inner child to play
We shed shoes walking barefoot in grass together
I felt the sensual touch of mother earth
Beneath my naked feet
The wet leaves of nature’s carpet
Licked my skin like a lover
Heat of her feminine flower aura
Melted my monastic heart
She led me into calm pastures
Where sky streamed in blue sea of harmony
A counselor priestess to the mad
Her smile illuminated the dark crevices of my heart
She invited my inner child to play
We shed shoes walking barefoot in grass together
I felt the sensual touch of mother earth
Beneath my naked feet
The wet leaves of nature’s carpet
Licked my skin like a lover
Heat of her feminine flower aura
Melted my monastic heart
798 reads
7 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
15th Oct 2015 6:28pm
15th Oct 2015 6:28pm
Heroine
Heroine
The ragged souls sit round the room. They seek solace from their storm lashed lives. A woman conducts the orchestra of therapy. Her soft curves and smile soothe the tempest tossed madmen.
In the quiet presage of session our conductress sits and gazes in contemplative beauty. Her sage words play on the piano of our hearts. “Women and men are made differently. To deny that is to deny the truth.”
Our calm sea of communing is threatened by a tidal surge. A former prison inmate is spooked by a patient’s eyes. He rises from his chair like a wrathful deity. He...
The ragged souls sit round the room. They seek solace from their storm lashed lives. A woman conducts the orchestra of therapy. Her soft curves and smile soothe the tempest tossed madmen.
In the quiet presage of session our conductress sits and gazes in contemplative beauty. Her sage words play on the piano of our hearts. “Women and men are made differently. To deny that is to deny the truth.”
Our calm sea of communing is threatened by a tidal surge. A former prison inmate is spooked by a patient’s eyes. He rises from his chair like a wrathful deity. He...
897 reads
5 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
15th Oct 2015 4:27pm
15th Oct 2015 4:27pm
The Feast
The Feast
The burning of my female longing
My feminine hunger
Insatiable
Only filled by you
My craving to consume you
Completely
Till our blood flows together
Your violin body laid out on the dining table
The curves exquisitely sensuous
Look quite edible
My craving for your sustenance
A heaving tremor from my stomach
To my sex
The tenderness in your warm brown eyes
Says "I want you to taste me, feed on my life"
Such sweet...
The burning of my female longing
My feminine hunger
Insatiable
Only filled by you
My craving to consume you
Completely
Till our blood flows together
Your violin body laid out on the dining table
The curves exquisitely sensuous
Look quite edible
My craving for your sustenance
A heaving tremor from my stomach
To my sex
The tenderness in your warm brown eyes
Says "I want you to taste me, feed on my life"
Such sweet...
1357 reads
2 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
15th Oct 2015 3:22am
15th Oct 2015 3:22am
The Vintage
The Vintage
My glowing face stares through shower mist
At image reflected in mirror
Wet curls hang down against my breasts
Brown eyelashes curl across my eyes
I step back gazing at my curves
The dark forest between my legs
I am woman
Beautiful, sensuous
Capable of love and hate
Full of tenderness and fire
Embodiment of men's torrid dreams ...
My glowing face stares through shower mist
At image reflected in mirror
Wet curls hang down against my breasts
Brown eyelashes curl across my eyes
I step back gazing at my curves
The dark forest between my legs
I am woman
Beautiful, sensuous
Capable of love and hate
Full of tenderness and fire
Embodiment of men's torrid dreams ...
985 reads
5 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
14th Oct 2015 8:01pm
14th Oct 2015 8:01pm
Beautiful Dreamers
Beautiful Dreamers
We are ensconced in the sea shell world of our village for the divinely touched. She sits next to me on couch.
“What should I get my husband for Christmas?” she ponders. “Oh he’d love a subscription to Playboy. I’ll get him that.”
Chagrined I reply, “You wouldn’t mind that?”
She smiles big as Texas. “Oh not at all. He’ll love it.”
Our conversation meanders into her disclosure which is a startling revelation.
“They took me to the quiet room last night” she whispers. “The men pinned me against the wall....
We are ensconced in the sea shell world of our village for the divinely touched. She sits next to me on couch.
“What should I get my husband for Christmas?” she ponders. “Oh he’d love a subscription to Playboy. I’ll get him that.”
Chagrined I reply, “You wouldn’t mind that?”
She smiles big as Texas. “Oh not at all. He’ll love it.”
Our conversation meanders into her disclosure which is a startling revelation.
“They took me to the quiet room last night” she whispers. “The men pinned me against the wall....
746 reads
7 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
12th Oct 2015 10:01pm
12th Oct 2015 10:01pm
Moorish Night
Moorish Night
I walk the storied halls of the Alhambra. There I gaze at mosaics embedded in the walls of time. All the while I Dream of Washington Irving. I see you my gypsy woman. Your dark eyes gaze through the black velvet veil. In the trembling moment of awareness, you sing whispered yearnings in the Moorish night.
Your fingers strum the lute like a lover deep in mystic fervor. Your jade inflection ignites into fiery necklace of song. Your voice is a fragrant come hither, my Galician lady of the night. You pour your burgundy love lilt into my thirsty heart.
We...
I walk the storied halls of the Alhambra. There I gaze at mosaics embedded in the walls of time. All the while I Dream of Washington Irving. I see you my gypsy woman. Your dark eyes gaze through the black velvet veil. In the trembling moment of awareness, you sing whispered yearnings in the Moorish night.
Your fingers strum the lute like a lover deep in mystic fervor. Your jade inflection ignites into fiery necklace of song. Your voice is a fragrant come hither, my Galician lady of the night. You pour your burgundy love lilt into my thirsty heart.
We...
775 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
11th Oct 2015 3:57am
11th Oct 2015 3:57am
New Wave Feminism
New Wave Feminism
Sarah
How did you become so boring John?
John
Who me? I can prattle about Plato till the cows come home. Dialectic can be an aphrodisiac if you are into it. Look at all the crowd who hung out with Socrates. He was hip in his day.
Sarah
You must have a twisted mind to get turned on by philosophical dialogue. Why don’t we talk about deviant sex? You are straight as an arrow dude.
John
Ok let’s talk about fetishes. Did you know that spanking is a huge turn on for me?
Sarah
Now you’re...
Sarah
How did you become so boring John?
John
Who me? I can prattle about Plato till the cows come home. Dialectic can be an aphrodisiac if you are into it. Look at all the crowd who hung out with Socrates. He was hip in his day.
Sarah
You must have a twisted mind to get turned on by philosophical dialogue. Why don’t we talk about deviant sex? You are straight as an arrow dude.
John
Ok let’s talk about fetishes. Did you know that spanking is a huge turn on for me?
Sarah
Now you’re...
892 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by goldenmyst
