Submissions by grasshopper
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
My dream is to do slam in front of an audience bigger than the reflection of my full length mirror, the end.
can you dig it
I feel rough, like the skin of a whale,
Dipping, slowly, further, through the infinite sea
As waves rustically flow, smoother, over me.
I feel entrapment,
Perhaps of the shore,
My toes digging firmly into the sand there,
Where little beads of salt dance and stare
On the tips of my tiny toes and their tiny strands of hair
I feel like dirtiness on a Sunday,
You say it can’t be done
but even now my mind swirls in foreplay
Even now we lay, still, naked,
Knowing, full well, God isn’t in those churches
Knowing, full well, God
And call me...
Dipping, slowly, further, through the infinite sea
As waves rustically flow, smoother, over me.
I feel entrapment,
Perhaps of the shore,
My toes digging firmly into the sand there,
Where little beads of salt dance and stare
On the tips of my tiny toes and their tiny strands of hair
I feel like dirtiness on a Sunday,
You say it can’t be done
but even now my mind swirls in foreplay
Even now we lay, still, naked,
Knowing, full well, God isn’t in those churches
Knowing, full well, God
And call me...
640 reads
0 Comments
this was the turning point
It said listen to the sound, it sounded like me
Didn’t look like me, it said
But it spoke like me.
They were strangely, words of familiarity
And I felt comfortably at ease listening to the sound of them being spoken.
It said I could trust it, lulled the words at me more like
And they huddled around me,
cradled me safely
And I could do nothing short of hear it.
It whispered softly of leather hard places
I only assumed one shouldn’t touch on,
But it reached on in and it told me to look.
I stared into it.
It’s words still cradling me, I peeked...
Didn’t look like me, it said
But it spoke like me.
They were strangely, words of familiarity
And I felt comfortably at ease listening to the sound of them being spoken.
It said I could trust it, lulled the words at me more like
And they huddled around me,
cradled me safely
And I could do nothing short of hear it.
It whispered softly of leather hard places
I only assumed one shouldn’t touch on,
But it reached on in and it told me to look.
I stared into it.
It’s words still cradling me, I peeked...
658 reads
1 Comment
call it whatever you want
Ihadadreamthat,tothisday,lingers,
fingersthroughthepagesofmymindlikeit'ssomehowintriguing,
thoughIknow,onlytowell,howitisnot
Andinthisfrighteningfog,
thathassomehowcarriedonintomorning
andeachadorningdayofmyfrighteningdecay,
Iwalkedhandinhandwiththedeathofmydays
alongemptyingstreetsanddarkeningstonesthatledfarbeyondandbeforetheunknown
Andwithinthisdreamispentnearalifetime,
clutchingpalmswiththebearerofdoomuntilhisseemedtofitperfectlyinsidemine
Untiltheessenceofanoldfriendbegantobloomamongstus,
Butwiththesuncameathickeninggloom,...
fingersthroughthepagesofmymindlikeit'ssomehowintriguing,
thoughIknow,onlytowell,howitisnot
Andinthisfrighteningfog,
thathassomehowcarriedonintomorning
andeachadorningdayofmyfrighteningdecay,
Iwalkedhandinhandwiththedeathofmydays
alongemptyingstreetsanddarkeningstonesthatledfarbeyondandbeforetheunknown
Andwithinthisdreamispentnearalifetime,
clutchingpalmswiththebearerofdoomuntilhisseemedtofitperfectlyinsidemine
Untiltheessenceofanoldfriendbegantobloomamongstus,
Butwiththesuncameathickeninggloom,...
559 reads
0 Comments
Raggedy Anne and The Balloon Adventure
If I could, not if I should,
I would stick a needle through this skin of mine
I would sit and stitch ‘til the blood crumpled dry,
Pooling over with a dripping sigh
as it seeped from our bodies,
Leaked from our pores
to leap and dance through the fading sky
I would pull needle and thread ‘til we dread no more
‘til the impeccable pattern of repeating string
Made my soul sing to the rhythm of no ending
I would sit and tie and pull and wind
And rejoice at the pattern that came to life
I would rejoice at our triumph and our joining parts ...
I would stick a needle through this skin of mine
I would sit and stitch ‘til the blood crumpled dry,
Pooling over with a dripping sigh
as it seeped from our bodies,
Leaked from our pores
to leap and dance through the fading sky
I would pull needle and thread ‘til we dread no more
‘til the impeccable pattern of repeating string
Made my soul sing to the rhythm of no ending
I would sit and tie and pull and wind
And rejoice at the pattern that came to life
I would rejoice at our triumph and our joining parts ...
626 reads
0 Comments
i like the way your face looks when you smile
I do not know you, but only too well
words fell from your lips
sipped in haste
to taste familiar and dance,
prance beneath my skull
I've never known you but i hear you when i sleep
a peace that seeps beneath and keeps
dancing, parading,
endlessly invading the privacy
of exactly what is known by me
In fact, I can't un-know you,
can't shake the seams of your string
as they thread beyond the essence of binding
your words with me
your words with me
So, you see,
I dare not know you, but i...
words fell from your lips
sipped in haste
to taste familiar and dance,
prance beneath my skull
I've never known you but i hear you when i sleep
a peace that seeps beneath and keeps
dancing, parading,
endlessly invading the privacy
of exactly what is known by me
In fact, I can't un-know you,
can't shake the seams of your string
as they thread beyond the essence of binding
your words with me
your words with me
So, you see,
I dare not know you, but i...
654 reads
0 Comments
restless
Though it’s been said
My words are dead,
I feel my head dropping like lead beneath the water,
My breathing’s altered,
as I feel my body falling farther
into the terrain with no name,
only the same repetitive pain
that harbors the hate
The tears it tastes,
the lives it takes,
the rise it makes,
beautiful waves it replicates.
My lungs break for air but no ones there,
I’m alone, on my own
No savior known,
though I need the breath to breathe me back,
Heave me back from the undead shallow eyes
that seem to draw...
My words are dead,
I feel my head dropping like lead beneath the water,
My breathing’s altered,
as I feel my body falling farther
into the terrain with no name,
only the same repetitive pain
that harbors the hate
The tears it tastes,
the lives it takes,
the rise it makes,
beautiful waves it replicates.
My lungs break for air but no ones there,
I’m alone, on my own
No savior known,
though I need the breath to breathe me back,
Heave me back from the undead shallow eyes
that seem to draw...
612 reads
0 Comments
there is no fear in love
I am lost, though.
The kind of lost one only dreams about.
The kind of lost you swim in,
not drown, but aimlessly float
just below the thin coat of a bubbling surface.
A beautiful surface that reflects the burn of the sun
but still turns your ever thickening skin olive.
You can almost taste the olive.
The deep breath of fresh air,
the deep breath of changing air,
the deep breath because you know not where
you reside any longer.
It’s deep because you can’t imagine
when the taste of air will again have the chance
to rush...
The kind of lost one only dreams about.
The kind of lost you swim in,
not drown, but aimlessly float
just below the thin coat of a bubbling surface.
A beautiful surface that reflects the burn of the sun
but still turns your ever thickening skin olive.
You can almost taste the olive.
The deep breath of fresh air,
the deep breath of changing air,
the deep breath because you know not where
you reside any longer.
It’s deep because you can’t imagine
when the taste of air will again have the chance
to rush...
729 reads
2 Comments
the tiny people dancing in my mind
The people whisper and dance,
hear a song of incandescent flowers
swaying with the wind,
my blood coils to the resolute rhythm;
skin vibrating to restless hums,
mouth watering to the beat
watch my feet sit obediently
on the street of solemn sounds;
profound is my head as the dancing parades
through my skull
and the sound echoes...
of tiny beings
seeing none other than the fleeting secretion of music notes
following the notes of the beating;
And though my body aches,
shakes her pores,
to join those swaying figures
beyond the...
hear a song of incandescent flowers
swaying with the wind,
my blood coils to the resolute rhythm;
skin vibrating to restless hums,
mouth watering to the beat
watch my feet sit obediently
on the street of solemn sounds;
profound is my head as the dancing parades
through my skull
and the sound echoes...
of tiny beings
seeing none other than the fleeting secretion of music notes
following the notes of the beating;
And though my body aches,
shakes her pores,
to join those swaying figures
beyond the...
933 reads
2 Comments
Miss Dorothy
slam poetry essence]
Tick tick tick says the clock,
Your heart stops, the rhythm sick
His shadow looms and crawls and creeps,
The doom seeps from his fingers as it lingers
On the dawn to come and erupting sun
You may run, but he may not
His walk is steady, always ready
He towers, back tall, almost stretching beyond
The realm of vision as you crouch and cower
His movements sweep the earth to keep it grounded.
Click click click go his feet
As they repeat to delete what may have sounded
He ages and withers and devours the hours,
His...
Tick tick tick says the clock,
Your heart stops, the rhythm sick
His shadow looms and crawls and creeps,
The doom seeps from his fingers as it lingers
On the dawn to come and erupting sun
You may run, but he may not
His walk is steady, always ready
He towers, back tall, almost stretching beyond
The realm of vision as you crouch and cower
His movements sweep the earth to keep it grounded.
Click click click go his feet
As they repeat to delete what may have sounded
He ages and withers and devours the hours,
His...
977 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by grasshopper
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