Submissions by hornyatmorn
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I am hornyatmorn poet. Other times also.
EROTIC POEM
Published
13th Dec 2014 1:18am
13th Dec 2014 1:18am
GETTING HIGHER 1 / "INNER" VISIONS
EDELTRAUD 3 ===> THE PSYCHOBITCH ==> INTER-TEMPORAL: DISMANTLING BIG TIME
"AVRA PALM"
27 & 28/9/2014
Some serious rain came today,
of those that are not unexpected,
but happens on a Saturday
and has the summer intersected.
So, fuck the summer, what's up now?
Fuck Saturday evening too!
Should I recycle your tale somehow,
or should I wonder what to do?
A tale takes millions of revisions
if there's in it a shred of truth,
that generates "inner" visions,
each one a pain in the tooth.
...
"AVRA PALM"
27 & 28/9/2014
Some serious rain came today,
of those that are not unexpected,
but happens on a Saturday
and has the summer intersected.
So, fuck the summer, what's up now?
Fuck Saturday evening too!
Should I recycle your tale somehow,
or should I wonder what to do?
A tale takes millions of revisions
if there's in it a shred of truth,
that generates "inner" visions,
each one a pain in the tooth.
...
713 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
8th Dec 2014 3:04pm
8th Dec 2014 3:04pm
DECEMBER… WHICH DECEMBER ?
The Christmas lights are on once again,
no that I care about it anymore,
I'm trying no to lose since there's no gain,
I have survived so many times before.
December… which December was a thrill?
Too many to consider in a song,
these last few years always made me ill,
I haven't been home for Christmas for too long.
To think of it, I don’t know where is home,
it's only just an abstract thought of mine,
perhaps in Crete, watching the white sea foam,
maybe in London, drinking some old wine.
My mother, or my wife, or my kid?
My...
no that I care about it anymore,
I'm trying no to lose since there's no gain,
I have survived so many times before.
December… which December was a thrill?
Too many to consider in a song,
these last few years always made me ill,
I haven't been home for Christmas for too long.
To think of it, I don’t know where is home,
it's only just an abstract thought of mine,
perhaps in Crete, watching the white sea foam,
maybe in London, drinking some old wine.
My mother, or my wife, or my kid?
My...
489 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by hornyatmorn
