Submissions by m_L
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I've been called "depressive", which I can agree, as the majority of my writings stem from bad moments of my life.
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
16th Oct 2014 10:56pm
16th Oct 2014 10:56pm
Back Where I Grew Up
This is not my room! That is not the ceiling
That I used to stare holes through after school.
This is not my bed but an inflated mattress
Set out in disgust for Kenneth's son, the one
Who can't be anybody but a lazy body melting
In thought, in thought, and thought again.
This is not the same living room I used to sit in
And get stoned after dinner with little evening puffs.
This is not the same bathroom I showered in;
The water isn't right, it's too hot then too cold,
The mirror above the sink is old though, but now
When I look...
That I used to stare holes through after school.
This is not my bed but an inflated mattress
Set out in disgust for Kenneth's son, the one
Who can't be anybody but a lazy body melting
In thought, in thought, and thought again.
This is not the same living room I used to sit in
And get stoned after dinner with little evening puffs.
This is not the same bathroom I showered in;
The water isn't right, it's too hot then too cold,
The mirror above the sink is old though, but now
When I look...
621 reads
0 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
28th Aug 2014 5:53am
28th Aug 2014 5:53am
Ship Wrecked
You clutch your bottle like an old anchor,
The package store must be your harbor.
I had walked with you to church
So you could tell somebody about it,
Like maybe that you love to swim, forty-proof,
Or that you yell louder than the whales wail.
But there were no priests, no nuns; you cried
By the altar as if it were your own funeral.
Then at home you sank back into the current
Of piss-stained sheets, browning dry-yellow pools
Curving your upper lip as the anger puffed in your guts,
Puffed them out in sad pregnancies; the...
The package store must be your harbor.
I had walked with you to church
So you could tell somebody about it,
Like maybe that you love to swim, forty-proof,
Or that you yell louder than the whales wail.
But there were no priests, no nuns; you cried
By the altar as if it were your own funeral.
Then at home you sank back into the current
Of piss-stained sheets, browning dry-yellow pools
Curving your upper lip as the anger puffed in your guts,
Puffed them out in sad pregnancies; the...
667 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
28th Aug 2014 5:03am
28th Aug 2014 5:03am
You
You are vaginal,
You give life.
You come as a man should: fluid,
Aggressively pulsing in favor of me.
You are tough,
You speak like tornadoes do.
You destroy and carnage the sorrow
That would otherwise kill me, you toss them aside.
You are new
Like foreign stars over places I've never been.
Like personal discovery, like a gift clad in cologne,
Something wrapped in ribbons.
You give life.
You come as a man should: fluid,
Aggressively pulsing in favor of me.
You are tough,
You speak like tornadoes do.
You destroy and carnage the sorrow
That would otherwise kill me, you toss them aside.
You are new
Like foreign stars over places I've never been.
Like personal discovery, like a gift clad in cologne,
Something wrapped in ribbons.
612 reads
0 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
1st Aug 2014 3:09am
1st Aug 2014 3:09am
Teddy Bears - Chapter One
Chapter One
It was a Thursday; I woke up at ten. I didn't have a reason to get myself up earlier on account I had nothing to wake up for, I didn't work and wasn't supposed to see anybody until later on. In the entirety of us living in that apartment I hardly ever tried finding work because I didn't drive and I thought that dad had to use the car more (when he could) for his little jobs (when he could). I wanted to work, I wanted to do something, have my own money and being able to support myself if I ever needed to; it wasn't like I enjoyed not having major...
It was a Thursday; I woke up at ten. I didn't have a reason to get myself up earlier on account I had nothing to wake up for, I didn't work and wasn't supposed to see anybody until later on. In the entirety of us living in that apartment I hardly ever tried finding work because I didn't drive and I thought that dad had to use the car more (when he could) for his little jobs (when he could). I wanted to work, I wanted to do something, have my own money and being able to support myself if I ever needed to; it wasn't like I enjoyed not having major...
769 reads
0 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
17th Jul 2014 1:53am
17th Jul 2014 1:53am
Teddy Bears "Prologue"
In Redford, Massachusetts I lived with my dad in an apartment, the second floor apartment of a two-story building that was just a few streets away from the beach, or “the fort” which is what it's been called as long as I've been alive. (It's a popular beach)
We moved there a few months after I turned twenty, after dad ended up selling our nice red little house in the center of town, a beautiful original, a spacious home with two floors and everything else a family would need if a family ever lived there besides a backyard; that place only had a cement square and a rectangular patch...
We moved there a few months after I turned twenty, after dad ended up selling our nice red little house in the center of town, a beautiful original, a spacious home with two floors and everything else a family would need if a family ever lived there besides a backyard; that place only had a cement square and a rectangular patch...
747 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th Jul 2014 8:07am
15th Jul 2014 8:07am
Rachelle (a poem for a friend)
We could be brother and sister,
Two people connected into one person.
One is a reader and the other is a writer-
Imagine that we are demigods
From lore told that I made up
And you proofread!
We're the friends you'd see
Snuggled up on a couch
In a cafe on open mic night,
Our shoulders open for tears
Or thoughts or
Confidence.
Two cats
That met on Halloween,
Strangers entirely but
Already we skipped in the street
Meowing friendly like we could
Sense each other out;
There were parts in each...
Two people connected into one person.
One is a reader and the other is a writer-
Imagine that we are demigods
From lore told that I made up
And you proofread!
We're the friends you'd see
Snuggled up on a couch
In a cafe on open mic night,
Our shoulders open for tears
Or thoughts or
Confidence.
Two cats
That met on Halloween,
Strangers entirely but
Already we skipped in the street
Meowing friendly like we could
Sense each other out;
There were parts in each...
695 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Jul 2014 7:53am
15th Jul 2014 7:53am
Ribbons
I had ribbons around the sac of my heart,
They grew and tied me down in Fall River.
I laid connected for two days, a monitor followed me
Around the wing; I heard pings, eerie electronic bells
From machines that tied other people down.
Look at me there in the hospital bed in a hospital dress,
I'd might as well been home suffering; what mattered?
What's health compared to a two-year ache?
My lids would have drooped half down anyway
And I would have slept just as much, forget the drugs.
My heart hurt, it felt respiratory.
They could never...
They grew and tied me down in Fall River.
I laid connected for two days, a monitor followed me
Around the wing; I heard pings, eerie electronic bells
From machines that tied other people down.
Look at me there in the hospital bed in a hospital dress,
I'd might as well been home suffering; what mattered?
What's health compared to a two-year ache?
My lids would have drooped half down anyway
And I would have slept just as much, forget the drugs.
My heart hurt, it felt respiratory.
They could never...
801 reads
3 Comments
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