Submissions by greenlipstick
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Hello, I am GreenLipstick, written artist in green my brush is my pen, my pen is my brush, I mean what I paint and paint what I mean painting everything I mean.
EROTIC POEM
Published
23rd Jul 2015 6:56am
23rd Jul 2015 6:56am
The Surprise -- Part I
Piercing the shower’s spray was his voice in song; his medley of favorites crooned, Sam Cooke style.
Sam, ruler of our happy place, we loved above all; his rhapsodic bliss conjured memories and a smile.
This tale bears witness to John Steinbeck’s truth that best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry;
my meticulously planned surprise to the tiniest detail, laboring over every cross of “T” and dot of “I”.
His “trial of the century” had dragged on and on; my very own Perry Mason was First-Chair Litigator;
by unanimous jury decision, his verdict was won; I...
Sam, ruler of our happy place, we loved above all; his rhapsodic bliss conjured memories and a smile.
This tale bears witness to John Steinbeck’s truth that best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry;
my meticulously planned surprise to the tiniest detail, laboring over every cross of “T” and dot of “I”.
His “trial of the century” had dragged on and on; my very own Perry Mason was First-Chair Litigator;
by unanimous jury decision, his verdict was won; I...
788 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Jun 2015 3:20am
15th Jun 2015 3:20am
What’s Wrong With Us?
What’s wrong with us,
why can’t we discuss,
our addiction to a lust,
that grows when we fuss?
Why do we fight and fight,
never turning wrong right,
or, the darkness into light,
true feelings show insight?
Why do our wounds never heal,
or, overcome what keeps us ill,
hold on to good things we feel,
or, allow love to warm the chill?
How is love possible without trust;
where lies the key to our lust;
why can’t we do what we must;
can we save it from death to dust?
Why can’t we speak our minds
without treating...
why can’t we discuss,
our addiction to a lust,
that grows when we fuss?
Why do we fight and fight,
never turning wrong right,
or, the darkness into light,
true feelings show insight?
Why do our wounds never heal,
or, overcome what keeps us ill,
hold on to good things we feel,
or, allow love to warm the chill?
How is love possible without trust;
where lies the key to our lust;
why can’t we do what we must;
can we save it from death to dust?
Why can’t we speak our minds
without treating...
765 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
15th Jun 2015 2:27am
15th Jun 2015 2:27am
Bookmarks of Fingerprints
From my rocking chair seat at the window,
I recall childhood memories of cloudless day,
twinge of jealousy strikes me now and then,
daydreaming and watching little egos at play.
Age is fantasy that does not exist for kids;
not as we know it in our adult way, that is;
only their yesterday’s tomorrow matters,
a gift of joyous majesty that gives and gives.
Bookmarks of fingerprints, lips, and noses
of faces pressed on Gram's window; mine.
a nostalgic flood spills over memory's edge
seeing pavement-chalked hopscotch outline.
...
I recall childhood memories of cloudless day,
twinge of jealousy strikes me now and then,
daydreaming and watching little egos at play.
Age is fantasy that does not exist for kids;
not as we know it in our adult way, that is;
only their yesterday’s tomorrow matters,
a gift of joyous majesty that gives and gives.
Bookmarks of fingerprints, lips, and noses
of faces pressed on Gram's window; mine.
a nostalgic flood spills over memory's edge
seeing pavement-chalked hopscotch outline.
...
716 reads
6 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
13th Jun 2015 6:05pm
13th Jun 2015 6:05pm
I Wonder, Laugh and Realize
I wonder why . . .
when our plans have come together perfectly,
over and done with relaxation time to spare;
the phone rings, and it’s always Chaos calling,
or Crazy’s at the door screaming BEWAARE!
I laugh when . . .
friends, family or strangers schmoozing with charm
attempt to snow others into believing what they say;
only to be unmasked by a naive child's innocent quip,
or a pet’s natural instinct reaction gives them away!
I realize that . . .
simple pleasures are the best, and most of them free;
only...
when our plans have come together perfectly,
over and done with relaxation time to spare;
the phone rings, and it’s always Chaos calling,
or Crazy’s at the door screaming BEWAARE!
I laugh when . . .
friends, family or strangers schmoozing with charm
attempt to snow others into believing what they say;
only to be unmasked by a naive child's innocent quip,
or a pet’s natural instinct reaction gives them away!
I realize that . . .
simple pleasures are the best, and most of them free;
only...
671 reads
2 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
13th Jun 2015 4:57pm
13th Jun 2015 4:57pm
Bloom of a Single Rose
On sheet music we left atop the baby grand,
sat a lead crystal vase with single white rose,
losing its fragrant, luscious full bloom.
Perfect rose-tinged white petals fall in silence,
each by each, from its drooping bloom, alighting
softly upon piano keys; scatter here, scatter there.
Aromatic fragrances of love and rose perfume mingle,
lingering on air, long after wild passions are tamed;
tousled sheets are reminiscent of our pleasures spent.
The heavy scent permeating the room will last many...
sat a lead crystal vase with single white rose,
losing its fragrant, luscious full bloom.
Perfect rose-tinged white petals fall in silence,
each by each, from its drooping bloom, alighting
softly upon piano keys; scatter here, scatter there.
Aromatic fragrances of love and rose perfume mingle,
lingering on air, long after wild passions are tamed;
tousled sheets are reminiscent of our pleasures spent.
The heavy scent permeating the room will last many...
894 reads
5 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
13th Jun 2015 3:26am
13th Jun 2015 3:26am
A Silver Siren's Finale of Song, Part II
I remember the first night I sang here, way back before it was a "real club",
it was the new "hot spot" where "foke" came to party; mo' like a juke joint.
House band played on weekends; they danced til fo five clock in the mornin';
wasn't called The Lake then, either; remember? Back then, it was “The Point”.
Don't know why I'm asking anyway; you probably remember better than I do;
didn't 10 years fly by quick as lightening? And, wasn't all a those 10 years fun?
I was dressed to the nines that first night, you sat right there at the VIP table, ...
it was the new "hot spot" where "foke" came to party; mo' like a juke joint.
House band played on weekends; they danced til fo five clock in the mornin';
wasn't called The Lake then, either; remember? Back then, it was “The Point”.
Don't know why I'm asking anyway; you probably remember better than I do;
didn't 10 years fly by quick as lightening? And, wasn't all a those 10 years fun?
I was dressed to the nines that first night, you sat right there at the VIP table, ...
866 reads
2 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Jun 2015 2:36am
13th Jun 2015 2:36am
Cultured Pearls
Note, also, that which is beautiful in the trappings of age;
the radiant glow of wisdom shines in vision-blurred eyes,
gray of hair, sag of chin, pouch of tummy, wrinkle of skin;
Only mirages hiding little boys and girls dwelling still inside;
gifts, symbolizing the blessing of having the luxury of time.
There is value in slowing motion that forces us to be patient;
let it flow, writhing is futile and useless, for there is no escape.
Always remember: an oyster takes a modicum of sand, a grain,
and with...
the radiant glow of wisdom shines in vision-blurred eyes,
gray of hair, sag of chin, pouch of tummy, wrinkle of skin;
Only mirages hiding little boys and girls dwelling still inside;
gifts, symbolizing the blessing of having the luxury of time.
There is value in slowing motion that forces us to be patient;
let it flow, writhing is futile and useless, for there is no escape.
Always remember: an oyster takes a modicum of sand, a grain,
and with...
885 reads
10 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
12th Jun 2015 4:53pm
12th Jun 2015 4:53pm
A Silver Siren's Finale of Song, Part I
Oh, yeah, looky-looky all you want, we both know you wanna;
I see you watchin' my alter ego, vibrant in Tina Turnerwear.
Why not just sit there for now?
We know soon you're gonna
inch up real close to the stage
watching, lips parted, and stare.
Yes, it's true, Jazzi's my given name; see, mom's mom had a vision
one night while I was still expected, but on the brink of being born.
Gram dreamed I was in a smoky bar
face in blue light, onstage with mic,
a toe-tappin' audience sat upfront,
listening...
I see you watchin' my alter ego, vibrant in Tina Turnerwear.
Why not just sit there for now?
We know soon you're gonna
inch up real close to the stage
watching, lips parted, and stare.
Yes, it's true, Jazzi's my given name; see, mom's mom had a vision
one night while I was still expected, but on the brink of being born.
Gram dreamed I was in a smoky bar
face in blue light, onstage with mic,
a toe-tappin' audience sat upfront,
listening...
826 reads
6 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Jun 2015 3:15pm
12th Jun 2015 3:15pm
A Quilted Song In Patchwork Harmony (A Song For My Friend)
Back and forth, there sit I, rocking,
my chair (so comfy) in front of the fire,
with love and care I inspect my work,
patchwork quilt for a friend I fondly admire.
Special memories and meaning held every square,
each collected and gathered not only from me,
but others whose lives she touched and enriched;
through rebel truth and justice, she had set them free.
A beautiful hope chest made of dark cherry wood
she gave me ten years ago, sat empty by my chair,
waxing nostalgic, I smiled as I recalled to mind,
an old memory more precious than...
my chair (so comfy) in front of the fire,
with love and care I inspect my work,
patchwork quilt for a friend I fondly admire.
Special memories and meaning held every square,
each collected and gathered not only from me,
but others whose lives she touched and enriched;
through rebel truth and justice, she had set them free.
A beautiful hope chest made of dark cherry wood
she gave me ten years ago, sat empty by my chair,
waxing nostalgic, I smiled as I recalled to mind,
an old memory more precious than...
722 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Jun 2015 4:31pm
11th Jun 2015 4:31pm
Time, Eyelashes and Bitter Coffee
Time simply slips by like
a lone fallen eyelash
floating on air
and swept away;
or,
islands of steam swirling
from hot, bitter coffee
evaporating into cups
filled with emptiness;
or,
prickly sensitivity once felt
as anonymous comes familiar
on the beloved faces of time
we see daily in our mirrors.
GreenLipstick
(all rights reserved, DdmEnt.)
a lone fallen eyelash
floating on air
and swept away;
or,
islands of steam swirling
from hot, bitter coffee
evaporating into cups
filled with emptiness;
or,
prickly sensitivity once felt
as anonymous comes familiar
on the beloved faces of time
we see daily in our mirrors.
GreenLipstick
(all rights reserved, DdmEnt.)
643 reads
5 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Jun 2015 4:16pm
11th Jun 2015 4:16pm
Indian Summer Night With Mother Nature
Lingering on the bridge of Atlanta's Chattahoochee
in the still peace of a clear indian summer night;
I hesitate, mesmerized by the beautiful horizon
shimmer of moonbeam on water is dancing light.
Too often, people take Mother Nature for granted
to Her, we owe apology, respect and more green;
boomerangs we are, always reaping what we sow
I know She's especially generous from this scene!
GreenLipstick
in the still peace of a clear indian summer night;
I hesitate, mesmerized by the beautiful horizon
shimmer of moonbeam on water is dancing light.
Too often, people take Mother Nature for granted
to Her, we owe apology, respect and more green;
boomerangs we are, always reaping what we sow
I know She's especially generous from this scene!
GreenLipstick
617 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
11th Jun 2015 3:32am
11th Jun 2015 3:32am
The Devil Wore An Angel's Beauty
Dressed the purest white, evoking images of fragile virginity,
clean, chaste and untouched; an angel with gossamer wings.
My ideal image of perfection, Asian doll I once knew and loved,
morphed princess demon-goddess, whom I sacrificed everything.
Easily deceived, I was disarmed by exquisite, hypnotic beauty
stunning and mesmerizing; but, perilous danger I couldn't see.
Wish I'd known from jump to run; instead I blushed at her smile.
Inert feet of iron and steel, said my mind; she approached me.
I was smitten, living two happy years with her, love of...
clean, chaste and untouched; an angel with gossamer wings.
My ideal image of perfection, Asian doll I once knew and loved,
morphed princess demon-goddess, whom I sacrificed everything.
Easily deceived, I was disarmed by exquisite, hypnotic beauty
stunning and mesmerizing; but, perilous danger I couldn't see.
Wish I'd known from jump to run; instead I blushed at her smile.
Inert feet of iron and steel, said my mind; she approached me.
I was smitten, living two happy years with her, love of...
813 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by greenlipstick
