Submissions by jdrury245 (Tav)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I write from my own visual mind as well as everyday experiences. Designer by day poet and artist by night. If you comment on mine... I will comment on yours :D
SELF POEM
Published
19th Jul 2018 1:44pm
19th Jul 2018 1:44pm
Blood Quill for the Empathic
Let’s get this straight.
I could write this,
using visual metaphors.
As architects build,
or painters paint.
Instead, my blood boils,
with oil and puss at the thought.
Poems are a release,
for the empathic.
I could tell you,
nothing is something.
How there is always,
light in darkness.
But, most importantly,
love is cruel.
I could look to,
Emily or Li-Young.
Study the beautiful words
and the mastery of pen.
I protest and reject this,
I will break my rhythm.
Then...
I could write this,
using visual metaphors.
As architects build,
or painters paint.
Instead, my blood boils,
with oil and puss at the thought.
Poems are a release,
for the empathic.
I could tell you,
nothing is something.
How there is always,
light in darkness.
But, most importantly,
love is cruel.
I could look to,
Emily or Li-Young.
Study the beautiful words
and the mastery of pen.
I protest and reject this,
I will break my rhythm.
Then...
#identity
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
#confusion
#SelfReflection
353 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
19th Jul 2018 1:41pm
19th Jul 2018 1:41pm
The Being in There.
Another being,
fresh with blood.
Pale with dark black circles.
Fills my sight,
every rebirth of gold.
It's even there,
during its death.
Its subtle whispers,
telling of truths.
Truths I know,
in heart and betrayal.
Pester and fester,
poke if you will.
Not even time,
grays your message.
“I know”,
with force I scream.
“I know”,
I sing.
Look away at the wall,
“breath”.
Open my eyes,
there you are…
In your vile prison,
reflecting flawed detail.
Who are you? ...
fresh with blood.
Pale with dark black circles.
Fills my sight,
every rebirth of gold.
It's even there,
during its death.
Its subtle whispers,
telling of truths.
Truths I know,
in heart and betrayal.
Pester and fester,
poke if you will.
Not even time,
grays your message.
“I know”,
with force I scream.
“I know”,
I sing.
Look away at the wall,
“breath”.
Open my eyes,
there you are…
In your vile prison,
reflecting flawed detail.
Who are you? ...
#anger
#dark
#identity #SelfHarm
#identity #SelfHarm
334 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
1st Nov 2016 1:29pm
1st Nov 2016 1:29pm
Sobering Melancholy
Though, should I
or have I begun?
To feel the tussling
Of blurring bodies.
Transforming and dancing,
Through these very halls.
Where aching is thick,
and a embrace is a release.
Should I begin?
How should I begin?
Swallow the dagger,
stabbing from behind.
Let it sit deep in my stomach.
Push it further, where it can’t cut.
Where will it end?
How will I begin?
Under lock and key,
Just where I left it .
It escapes as it did just now,
conjuring a puncture to bone.
...
or have I begun?
To feel the tussling
Of blurring bodies.
Transforming and dancing,
Through these very halls.
Where aching is thick,
and a embrace is a release.
Should I begin?
How should I begin?
Swallow the dagger,
stabbing from behind.
Let it sit deep in my stomach.
Push it further, where it can’t cut.
Where will it end?
How will I begin?
Under lock and key,
Just where I left it .
It escapes as it did just now,
conjuring a puncture to bone.
...
#anxiety
#depression
#dark #SelfHarm
#dark #SelfHarm
478 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
5th Feb 2016 2:52pm
5th Feb 2016 2:52pm
Catching the mood of snow
Snow falls before us.
Through her eyes,
the sky collapses.
It tumbles gently.
Laying softly,
as lovers hands.
They are still as white.
Slightly covered,
by ivory silk.
Snow still falls.
A blanket of calm,
weaves through.
Let it keep snowing.
A tranquil scene,
as her eyes closed.
Let it keep snowing.
Through her eyes,
the sky collapses.
It tumbles gently.
Laying softly,
as lovers hands.
They are still as white.
Slightly covered,
by ivory silk.
Snow still falls.
A blanket of calm,
weaves through.
Let it keep snowing.
A tranquil scene,
as her eyes closed.
Let it keep snowing.
539 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
10th Apr 2015 5:21pm
10th Apr 2015 5:21pm
Tranquility
I am walking.
Pushed slightly, by the northeast.
My companion yellow in color,
fondles the air with his muzzle.
Our strides take us forward.
Galloping cracked pavement.
Exploring familiar arch ways,
of hemlock and bittersweets.
Our view is panoramic.
With flights honking in the distance,
as they return to the waking land.
We huddle at the top.
Where we watch the day,
tuck away into eves pocket.
This light is special.
It is a sensation of nothing,
and everything.
It fills you and the land,
with...
Pushed slightly, by the northeast.
My companion yellow in color,
fondles the air with his muzzle.
Our strides take us forward.
Galloping cracked pavement.
Exploring familiar arch ways,
of hemlock and bittersweets.
Our view is panoramic.
With flights honking in the distance,
as they return to the waking land.
We huddle at the top.
Where we watch the day,
tuck away into eves pocket.
This light is special.
It is a sensation of nothing,
and everything.
It fills you and the land,
with...
493 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
4th Feb 2015 2:49pm
4th Feb 2015 2:49pm
How you must think
How did I get here?
Upon this bench,
I sit.
Watching the frames,
fill and flicker.
It is screen play,
you see.
You are the star.
These other entities,
they are just extras,
in your world and mine.
So, I watch the scene,
as laughter echo’s and
foot steps scamper.
Audiences infected,
by your momentous energy.
Although they do not know,
you, nor do I?
Or is it that I do not understand,
this metaphor of distance.
I wonder about the end,
of this tall tale.
Tragic?
Dramatic?
Happy?
I...
Upon this bench,
I sit.
Watching the frames,
fill and flicker.
It is screen play,
you see.
You are the star.
These other entities,
they are just extras,
in your world and mine.
So, I watch the scene,
as laughter echo’s and
foot steps scamper.
Audiences infected,
by your momentous energy.
Although they do not know,
you, nor do I?
Or is it that I do not understand,
this metaphor of distance.
I wonder about the end,
of this tall tale.
Tragic?
Dramatic?
Happy?
I...
569 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Dec 2014 3:43pm
12th Dec 2014 3:43pm
Resentful as the snow
Resenting the light,
from the Olympian,
that warms my wool.
It cowards behind holly,
that grows in the pine grove.
Retreats to shaded cold,
below timber arms.
It is disgusted to the sight,
of white, yellow and orange.
Prefers the blue of night.
As it fades, flows and steeps.
It becomes clear,
pillaged of its white veneer.
Though, it carries forward,
like a grudge that won’t melt away.
Or is it more like love,
ever changing.
Or even as stubborn,
as a cold bedded love.
That brings life to you,...
from the Olympian,
that warms my wool.
It cowards behind holly,
that grows in the pine grove.
Retreats to shaded cold,
below timber arms.
It is disgusted to the sight,
of white, yellow and orange.
Prefers the blue of night.
As it fades, flows and steeps.
It becomes clear,
pillaged of its white veneer.
Though, it carries forward,
like a grudge that won’t melt away.
Or is it more like love,
ever changing.
Or even as stubborn,
as a cold bedded love.
That brings life to you,...
505 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th Oct 2014 4:31pm
24th Oct 2014 4:31pm
Assumption
Sun ached to rise,
above the jagged horizon.
It lit the shadow,
of stone work,
of your craftsmanship.
It stood high,
strong and everlasting.
A stone giant,
held together with assumption.
Assumption of him,
the prince that you seek.
Recently one has followed,
to the top where you lie.
He said the verse,
a promise, an assumption.
He would mend the holes,
patch the sides.
As time rhythmically passes,
the tower would stand,
strong and eager.
Until your assumption,
is not yet reality.
The one that followed,...
above the jagged horizon.
It lit the shadow,
of stone work,
of your craftsmanship.
It stood high,
strong and everlasting.
A stone giant,
held together with assumption.
Assumption of him,
the prince that you seek.
Recently one has followed,
to the top where you lie.
He said the verse,
a promise, an assumption.
He would mend the holes,
patch the sides.
As time rhythmically passes,
the tower would stand,
strong and eager.
Until your assumption,
is not yet reality.
The one that followed,...
636 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Sep 2014 3:10pm
15th Sep 2014 3:10pm
Catching Frogs
I, was the one
whom he was with.
Our glances reminded us
of summer sweat
and silk fingers.
Weaving together
as we both kept
the grasp as we raced.
Blurred laughter,
from one scene to
the next.
Giddy as children,
catching frogs, in
mid summer.
She, was the one
whom I was with.
During the equinox
of changing color.
The brush of leaves
fell, from high above.
As we embraced the
gentle morning.
Before each pupil,
left for the day.
I watched, from two
rows down.
It was the last...
whom he was with.
Our glances reminded us
of summer sweat
and silk fingers.
Weaving together
as we both kept
the grasp as we raced.
Blurred laughter,
from one scene to
the next.
Giddy as children,
catching frogs, in
mid summer.
She, was the one
whom I was with.
During the equinox
of changing color.
The brush of leaves
fell, from high above.
As we embraced the
gentle morning.
Before each pupil,
left for the day.
I watched, from two
rows down.
It was the last...
517 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
28th Aug 2014 3:55pm
28th Aug 2014 3:55pm
Asian Forest
Wrapped and tied by time.
I felt it seep,
into the world around me.
Always taking never giving.
As it absorbed… slowly.
It pushed the pins,
of the past into the realm,
of my present.
To escape the things,
I store away.
Lids of my sight close,
to view an asian forest.
Riddled with bamboo,
with filter of green and dusk
I feel myself sleeping,
near coy and a soft brook.
I dreamt I was a white wolf
in a green asian forest.
Hunting my brother.
The wolf dark with time.
He was where darkness seeks,
to infect and...
I felt it seep,
into the world around me.
Always taking never giving.
As it absorbed… slowly.
It pushed the pins,
of the past into the realm,
of my present.
To escape the things,
I store away.
Lids of my sight close,
to view an asian forest.
Riddled with bamboo,
with filter of green and dusk
I feel myself sleeping,
near coy and a soft brook.
I dreamt I was a white wolf
in a green asian forest.
Hunting my brother.
The wolf dark with time.
He was where darkness seeks,
to infect and...
639 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
5th Aug 2014 10:03pm
5th Aug 2014 10:03pm
Early twilight tailwind
It was much more than
wind it was as if
your spoken verse
pushed me
it was early
just before
the radiance revealed
cloaked mist lands
wet in dew
reading what
I received in slumber
you broke the silence
in the effort to mend
the loose stitches
but there is nothing
the life rushed out
leaving not a simple drop
stitching would not change
what I lost
so I converse in the act
of silence
hoping that maybe
your tailwind
that pushed me
would die
wind it was as if
your spoken verse
pushed me
it was early
just before
the radiance revealed
cloaked mist lands
wet in dew
reading what
I received in slumber
you broke the silence
in the effort to mend
the loose stitches
but there is nothing
the life rushed out
leaving not a simple drop
stitching would not change
what I lost
so I converse in the act
of silence
hoping that maybe
your tailwind
that pushed me
would die
516 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
23rd Jul 2014 7:47pm
23rd Jul 2014 7:47pm
1800 Justice
A fortnight
Will be our measure
For those who seek
An idea of independence
Beyond these chambers
Of steel and stone
Lies of beggars
Weeping urchins
And slept scent whores
Cheer on those judged by gavel
They are roped to truths
That they forswears
A fortnight
After this night
We will be our measure
Will it be justice to, whom
Society?, ‘tis not justified
Judgments of weak eyes and mind
They keep them like stones
In their shoes
Weighing them down
With hate, greed and sins of old
Before we...
Will be our measure
For those who seek
An idea of independence
Beyond these chambers
Of steel and stone
Lies of beggars
Weeping urchins
And slept scent whores
Cheer on those judged by gavel
They are roped to truths
That they forswears
A fortnight
After this night
We will be our measure
Will it be justice to, whom
Society?, ‘tis not justified
Judgments of weak eyes and mind
They keep them like stones
In their shoes
Weighing them down
With hate, greed and sins of old
Before we...
562 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by jdrury245 (Tav)
