Submissions by gonezalo
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2020 5:03am
23rd Mar 2020 5:03am
moon over mountain
moon over mountain
waning crescent in twilight
leaves jilted the trees
while snow had long departed
and every street was emptied.
a boding wind breathes by red
lights that sway in the suspense.
waning crescent in twilight
leaves jilted the trees
while snow had long departed
and every street was emptied.
a boding wind breathes by red
lights that sway in the suspense.
#moon
475 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
3rd Mar 2020 5:00am
3rd Mar 2020 5:00am
when i go running
when i go running,
do not call on me.
when i run,
making seven circles, just
before the sun
grows then culls the growth
with oppressive humidity,
making rings,
first one
then two
before spring ends,
you will have me.
through your dark wood i'll return again
below a moon that turns men to wolves
and bestows girls womanhood,
and you will have me
like a poltergeist in windy spring
when i go running,
pulling leaves from swaying trees
with tenderness...
do not call on me.
when i run,
making seven circles, just
before the sun
grows then culls the growth
with oppressive humidity,
making rings,
first one
then two
before spring ends,
you will have me.
through your dark wood i'll return again
below a moon that turns men to wolves
and bestows girls womanhood,
and you will have me
like a poltergeist in windy spring
when i go running,
pulling leaves from swaying trees
with tenderness...
#forest
509 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Dec 2019 2:42am
1st Dec 2019 2:42am
meanderings in Prague
there's a place that exists
only for you, where
time is a flat circle,
the sky a cobalt blue;
amaranth and
star of bethlehem strew
themselves over
beds of yellowed fescue
like lovers stretching
upon a mattress; there,
wind combs her fingers
through your hair, presses
her chest to your scapulae—
Can't you feel her breathe?—
embraces, whispers silt,
bequeaths to you her old love
before dearly departing again,
the gale there teeming
with fragrance of damp hair,
with the warm...
only for you, where
time is a flat circle,
the sky a cobalt blue;
amaranth and
star of bethlehem strew
themselves over
beds of yellowed fescue
like lovers stretching
upon a mattress; there,
wind combs her fingers
through your hair, presses
her chest to your scapulae—
Can't you feel her breathe?—
embraces, whispers silt,
bequeaths to you her old love
before dearly departing again,
the gale there teeming
with fragrance of damp hair,
with the warm...
#trees
622 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
26th Nov 2019 5:34am
26th Nov 2019 5:34am
familiar movements
Tuesday morning, the metal door
behind me slams shut and i climb
upstairs to the first floor,
thermos in hand as i mime
motions i’d done dawns before.
The feeding tube alarms chime
and the call lights coruscate
to signal the end of mealtime,
and our blind, schizophrenic inmate
screams that it’s a crime
to have to wait for a
second cup of coffee; it’s the law!
His face contorts to pique abated
when the nurse hurries down the hall
to hand him - i haven’t the heart to tell him -
decaf.
behind me slams shut and i climb
upstairs to the first floor,
thermos in hand as i mime
motions i’d done dawns before.
The feeding tube alarms chime
and the call lights coruscate
to signal the end of mealtime,
and our blind, schizophrenic inmate
screams that it’s a crime
to have to wait for a
second cup of coffee; it’s the law!
His face contorts to pique abated
when the nurse hurries down the hall
to hand him - i haven’t the heart to tell him -
decaf.
#coffee
424 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Sep 2019 4:45am
15th Sep 2019 4:45am
cold or not, god is present
springing from one base to next,
sunday weather played tag with me
flitting up sunnyside
as mist turned to showers
i squirreled beneath
douglas fir and concrete
shivered off wet opals
from my arm hairs
as gusts susurrated
around corners and branches,
the laughs of low clouds
who knew they won.
“haha, it got ya;
that’s portland for ya—
no one expects it,”
he said, an untucked prussian shirt,
buscemi smile, horseshoe of whiskers
harnessed to his scalp
by an unshaven...
sunday weather played tag with me
flitting up sunnyside
as mist turned to showers
i squirreled beneath
douglas fir and concrete
shivered off wet opals
from my arm hairs
as gusts susurrated
around corners and branches,
the laughs of low clouds
who knew they won.
“haha, it got ya;
that’s portland for ya—
no one expects it,”
he said, an untucked prussian shirt,
buscemi smile, horseshoe of whiskers
harnessed to his scalp
by an unshaven...
#steampunk
489 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
7th Sep 2019 11:06am
7th Sep 2019 11:06am
empathy
on knee-high stone wall
a patient with bandaged leg
sits, crutches in hand,
watching a pigeon hopping
at his feet, its one stump raised.
a patient with bandaged leg
sits, crutches in hand,
watching a pigeon hopping
at his feet, its one stump raised.
#steampunk
461 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
22nd Aug 2019 7:42am
22nd Aug 2019 7:42am
commute
the 3 groans to a stop
at jefferson & 9th
takes a long drag of its e-cig caternary
in front of the trauma center
the collonade of passengers
in the middle aisle
parts
and, between their sagged
shoulders
glossy
eyes and half-shut eyelids
their bodies swaying
waves coming ashore
only to be
dragged
hissing
back into the sea,
steps through a 30-something moses...
at jefferson & 9th
takes a long drag of its e-cig caternary
in front of the trauma center
the collonade of passengers
in the middle aisle
parts
and, between their sagged
shoulders
glossy
eyes and half-shut eyelids
their bodies swaying
waves coming ashore
only to be
dragged
hissing
back into the sea,
steps through a 30-something moses...
#steampunk
493 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Nov 2018 8:23am
21st Nov 2018 8:23am
the November Sounder
a foot of snow,
some rain
descending from a cloudy sky
year-round would’ve been
easy
i could hole myself up
in a four-walled trench
and wait it
out
write letters
home;
eat 3 meals,
drink water too,
shower once;
talk myself through
the
process,
mull how clocks have hands,
the chairs backs, walls ears,
maybe stuff some stuffed
animals I’d named
in my pocket
to keep company
never again have to worry
about
a beautiful day,
a pleasant retreat, ...
some rain
descending from a cloudy sky
year-round would’ve been
easy
i could hole myself up
in a four-walled trench
and wait it
out
write letters
home;
eat 3 meals,
drink water too,
shower once;
talk myself through
the
process,
mull how clocks have hands,
the chairs backs, walls ears,
maybe stuff some stuffed
animals I’d named
in my pocket
to keep company
never again have to worry
about
a beautiful day,
a pleasant retreat, ...
#steampunk
530 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th Oct 2018 1:51pm
11th Oct 2018 1:51pm
on the west coast, fog
on the west coast, fog
tucks in streets to rest,
with unsettling whirr
glowing eyes of metal
animals pedal past
in congested lanes
half-asleep
finally i breathe
easy among un-
seeing company,
am liminal between
where and was, as the sun
draws indigo blinds
in its wake
tucks in streets to rest,
with unsettling whirr
glowing eyes of metal
animals pedal past
in congested lanes
half-asleep
finally i breathe
easy among un-
seeing company,
am liminal between
where and was, as the sun
draws indigo blinds
in its wake
#sky
661 reads
5 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
31st Jul 2018 7:13am
31st Jul 2018 7:13am
vagrant
the mountain stayed in bed,
its head in the clouds peeking
from beneath
crumpled snowy eiderdown
curiously eyeing the climber
whose boots tapped its shoulders
awake.
she gusts whispers
against his exposed ears,
invites him to bed.
myrtle trees part
to a clearing, as she
shirrs the sheets back
exposing slate mattress.
but he declines
and in breathless heaves
sits,
squints between
god rays at the city below
that should be home.
Rainier curls her toes, ...
its head in the clouds peeking
from beneath
crumpled snowy eiderdown
curiously eyeing the climber
whose boots tapped its shoulders
awake.
she gusts whispers
against his exposed ears,
invites him to bed.
myrtle trees part
to a clearing, as she
shirrs the sheets back
exposing slate mattress.
but he declines
and in breathless heaves
sits,
squints between
god rays at the city below
that should be home.
Rainier curls her toes, ...
#trees
578 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Jul 2018 7:07am
18th Jul 2018 7:07am
daydream at lunch
a plane growls overhead
invisible behind grey clouds
in the distance, white houses rest
on top a hill of yellowed reeds
before bluish backdrop of mountains
backed by more faded, teal lumps
the wind teases the hairs and tickles
the skin on the arms, laughs
blowing the mind's tumbleweeds
further down the empty trail
suddenly, a sedan parks;
the window rolls down,
voice asks, "Is this Linden?"
of the person benched
the person nods;
no sound is spared.
But the moment...
invisible behind grey clouds
in the distance, white houses rest
on top a hill of yellowed reeds
before bluish backdrop of mountains
backed by more faded, teal lumps
the wind teases the hairs and tickles
the skin on the arms, laughs
blowing the mind's tumbleweeds
further down the empty trail
suddenly, a sedan parks;
the window rolls down,
voice asks, "Is this Linden?"
of the person benched
the person nods;
no sound is spared.
But the moment...
#mountains
579 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
1st May 2018 5:58am
1st May 2018 5:58am
bolt from the blue
following rolling days of arid sun,
the earth undoes the clothespins
from the line to appraise the leaves,
accidentally adorning the streets
with a few green socks.
the desiccation to her liking, she turns
on her heels to launder the worn again.
a cold breeze nips at the nape,
renewed color defies a muted sky,
and idle people's voices palaver
about their demotic unease
with the slick, charcoal road;
the sunlight's disappearance;
with the fickle weather;
"why'd it rain today?"
they...
the earth undoes the clothespins
from the line to appraise the leaves,
accidentally adorning the streets
with a few green socks.
the desiccation to her liking, she turns
on her heels to launder the worn again.
a cold breeze nips at the nape,
renewed color defies a muted sky,
and idle people's voices palaver
about their demotic unease
with the slick, charcoal road;
the sunlight's disappearance;
with the fickle weather;
"why'd it rain today?"
they...
#nature
573 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by gonezalo
