Submissions by marcella1
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I've been at it for a long time and like e.e. cummings in his painting and poetry I cannot tell a good one from an inadequate one. I'm constantly confused, with makes my clarity so certain. My favorate motto:
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Jan 2014 10:40pm
22nd Jan 2014 10:40pm
Poets
She was not after
self-enclosed achievements
otherwise why return again,
again and again to mixed
voices? A vibrating unstable
identity shimmering into being
almost behind her. None of
this was sterile to her: what
matters is so close to what doesn't.
self-enclosed achievements
otherwise why return again,
again and again to mixed
voices? A vibrating unstable
identity shimmering into being
almost behind her. None of
this was sterile to her: what
matters is so close to what doesn't.
830 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Jan 2014 6:47pm
20th Jan 2014 6:47pm
Passion
They lived
notoriously long lives
until they
acquired the essence
of constant
passion. Then it
was too
late, like rhinoceros'
horns, which
are not made of ivory.
Passion, like
bones too easily accepted
for what
they were not, is desired
all over
the deserted world.
Are our
egos served by working
in Babel,
as if all languages are the
same? Have
we abandoned any attempt?
notoriously long lives
until they
acquired the essence
of constant
passion. Then it
was too
late, like rhinoceros'
horns, which
are not made of ivory.
Passion, like
bones too easily accepted
for what
they were not, is desired
all over
the deserted world.
Are our
egos served by working
in Babel,
as if all languages are the
same? Have
we abandoned any attempt?
873 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Jan 2014 6:34pm
20th Jan 2014 6:34pm
East Of the Moon
Out on the
sea
trying not to
be
oceans of old
still
running rushing
free
down in those
landscapes
east of the
moon.
Under the sky
white
frozen mountains
seem
to fly down there
in
the valley east of the
moon.
Star-form of clouds
far
from the crowds animals
forage
just trying to
be.
Let us be left alone
as
we run: east of the
moon.
sea
trying not to
be
oceans of old
still
running rushing
free
down in those
landscapes
east of the
moon.
Under the sky
white
frozen mountains
seem
to fly down there
in
the valley east of the
moon.
Star-form of clouds
far
from the crowds animals
forage
just trying to
be.
Let us be left alone
as
we run: east of the
moon.
725 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Jan 2014 3:24pm
8th Jan 2014 3:24pm
Symbol
A symbol is
dangerous. Appealing?
Yes. Needed? Yes.
Being extricated? Maybe.
Yet, they are ruthless,
ignoring the present,
abdicating convention,
disregarding common (that
is, superior) defenses,
obligations, the stuff of
normal living. Is there a
"perfect" symbol, remarkably,
incompatibly passionate? Perhaps:
the symbol of instabilities, of
human potentiality.
dangerous. Appealing?
Yes. Needed? Yes.
Being extricated? Maybe.
Yet, they are ruthless,
ignoring the present,
abdicating convention,
disregarding common (that
is, superior) defenses,
obligations, the stuff of
normal living. Is there a
"perfect" symbol, remarkably,
incompatibly passionate? Perhaps:
the symbol of instabilities, of
human potentiality.
902 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
5th Jan 2014 6:07pm
5th Jan 2014 6:07pm
Discover
Is the disorder
of the world, our
world, the only one
we know, incurable?
Can our world be reborn,
remolded, refurbished?
Do we build castles in
the sand, only to have
them destroyed by entropy?
Can we only fortify or create
enclaves? Is the world ever
bothersome? The passionate
person should not even ask
these questions. Most do not.
All that is present, is fulfilled,
is within the world (where else?):
thus the world, our world, must be
...
of the world, our
world, the only one
we know, incurable?
Can our world be reborn,
remolded, refurbished?
Do we build castles in
the sand, only to have
them destroyed by entropy?
Can we only fortify or create
enclaves? Is the world ever
bothersome? The passionate
person should not even ask
these questions. Most do not.
All that is present, is fulfilled,
is within the world (where else?):
thus the world, our world, must be
...
773 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
31st Dec 2013 11:24am
31st Dec 2013 11:24am
Punishment
She chose a whip
with a short stout
stump and a long
lash she cracked
it on the prisoner's
back then in the air
an angry photograph
of the lash appeared
across the tortured
puckered skin very
upset with herself
she crashed the lash
again and again then
she threw the unclean
thing across the room
letting it clank the
bottles settled there
only to lie like a dead
snake: the prisoner was
on the floor on his face
panting quiescent he had
fallen on the heap of
his outer clothing.
with a short stout
stump and a long
lash she cracked
it on the prisoner's
back then in the air
an angry photograph
of the lash appeared
across the tortured
puckered skin very
upset with herself
she crashed the lash
again and again then
she threw the unclean
thing across the room
letting it clank the
bottles settled there
only to lie like a dead
snake: the prisoner was
on the floor on his face
panting quiescent he had
fallen on the heap of
his outer clothing.
724 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Dec 2013 00:27am
27th Dec 2013 00:27am
The Idea
There were contrasting visions
of how to make their parts
individually into a collective
they shared a yearning to
dissolve the egotistical person
into an ideal community they
desired to be anonymous medieval
mansions building a cathedral or
social insects, like ants, sacrificing
themselves for the good of the hive
there must be a common understanding
unlike a dream to which the individual
humbly submits in diametrical opposition
to the romance of the solitary genius
...
of how to make their parts
individually into a collective
they shared a yearning to
dissolve the egotistical person
into an ideal community they
desired to be anonymous medieval
mansions building a cathedral or
social insects, like ants, sacrificing
themselves for the good of the hive
there must be a common understanding
unlike a dream to which the individual
humbly submits in diametrical opposition
to the romance of the solitary genius
...
767 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Dec 2013 2:52pm
21st Dec 2013 2:52pm
The Present
She existed in the
present only with a
great deal of sufferance
anyway she suspected that
she would soon rise and
fly out of it hanging on
to the modern age by only
a thread she could almost
hear the choirs of voices:
the tremulous sounds that
would shake the ground and
the tones that would come
from beyond the whirling
smoke she sensed very
strongly the imminent marriage
of chaos and order which seemed
to be on its way surrounded by
calm...
present only with a
great deal of sufferance
anyway she suspected that
she would soon rise and
fly out of it hanging on
to the modern age by only
a thread she could almost
hear the choirs of voices:
the tremulous sounds that
would shake the ground and
the tones that would come
from beyond the whirling
smoke she sensed very
strongly the imminent marriage
of chaos and order which seemed
to be on its way surrounded by
calm...
672 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Dec 2013 1:16pm
18th Dec 2013 1:16pm
Too Many
Come back when you
are ready look life
over: was I that
unkind? I will admit
there were too many "I's."
Please say that you
mean it please say that
you feel love too.
I will admit there were
too many "I's."
are ready look life
over: was I that
unkind? I will admit
there were too many "I's."
Please say that you
mean it please say that
you feel love too.
I will admit there were
too many "I's."
675 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Dec 2013 7:33pm
17th Dec 2013 7:33pm
The Dream
Suddenly it was night she
was almost in a dream-trance
impossible to break through
impossible to wake from still
she sank back against a wall
almost able to breathe again
the short time she had to get
her wits did her little good for
glowing in white silver and blue:
he was standing at the entrance to
the cave in a sphere of vibrating
beams as round as the full moon she
was calmed by his presence as if he
had been expecting it: she watched him
smile her hair plaited...
was almost in a dream-trance
impossible to break through
impossible to wake from still
she sank back against a wall
almost able to breathe again
the short time she had to get
her wits did her little good for
glowing in white silver and blue:
he was standing at the entrance to
the cave in a sphere of vibrating
beams as round as the full moon she
was calmed by his presence as if he
had been expecting it: she watched him
smile her hair plaited...
764 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Dec 2013 10:48am
14th Dec 2013 10:48am
After the War
The center of the
main city was rebuilt.
Spanking-new half-timbered
houses made everything seem
erect, just as it had once
been. Yet constructing utopias
was often not cherished, even
by those who thought they lived in
them. There were even spasmodic,
although grand, neoclassical buildings
arranged near a central square which
celebrated heroism. Yet most of the
people were tucked away in wooded,
plaster or slab concrete barracks
in the suburbs. Such is the
...
main city was rebuilt.
Spanking-new half-timbered
houses made everything seem
erect, just as it had once
been. Yet constructing utopias
was often not cherished, even
by those who thought they lived in
them. There were even spasmodic,
although grand, neoclassical buildings
arranged near a central square which
celebrated heroism. Yet most of the
people were tucked away in wooded,
plaster or slab concrete barracks
in the suburbs. Such is the
...
659 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Dec 2013 8:07pm
13th Dec 2013 8:07pm
On Remembering
Old memories start
to fade: Susan will
you remember me like
I do you?
You constantly invaded
me, persuaded me, yet
never told me what to do.
I sat down under a
tree. Sat there to
view the memories
that fade.
to fade: Susan will
you remember me like
I do you?
You constantly invaded
me, persuaded me, yet
never told me what to do.
I sat down under a
tree. Sat there to
view the memories
that fade.
679 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by marcella1
