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:
LOVE POEM
Published
25th Jan 2012 5:38pm
25th Jan 2012 5:38pm
She ran
1.
both ways trying to find
a way out she wheeled
around and gasped in fear
she had nowhere to go so she
just went back and forth, around and
around, the city shown in a bed of
autumn blue to the south and west:
Chicago was still asleep the river had black
wind lines penned across its face
and to the south was the open harbor
acrossed which spread the cloud wall
furious and close buckling in the middle of the bay
sucking at the watch and creating a line...
both ways trying to find
a way out she wheeled
around and gasped in fear
she had nowhere to go so she
just went back and forth, around and
around, the city shown in a bed of
autumn blue to the south and west:
Chicago was still asleep the river had black
wind lines penned across its face
and to the south was the open harbor
acrossed which spread the cloud wall
furious and close buckling in the middle of the bay
sucking at the watch and creating a line...
746 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th Jan 2012 6:11pm
24th Jan 2012 6:11pm
Love Of the Intellect
They
had fallen in love:
in the obsessive
and total way of two people
who had seen
the same truth
which they could not completely comprehend:
and though the times
were not as promiscous as
they had been lead to believe
no one would have
whispered had they taken up
residence together:
this would have been neither half-scandal
nor half-hesitation,
but they didn't:
they had been brought
up on tender...
had fallen in love:
in the obsessive
and total way of two people
who had seen
the same truth
which they could not completely comprehend:
and though the times
were not as promiscous as
they had been lead to believe
no one would have
whispered had they taken up
residence together:
this would have been neither half-scandal
nor half-hesitation,
but they didn't:
they had been brought
up on tender...
712 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
23rd Jan 2012 5:23pm
23rd Jan 2012 5:23pm
Jacob
She
would return
from work
in the evening
and be met by his hostility, hatred and pain
at first
this presented itself almost
exclusively
to sexual matters
then she realized it
was an attempt
to limit
her work: indeed her progress
it was like a handcuff
but she felt it tighten
her wrists bled
after she escaped him:
she would never say
his name out loud
if she saw his handwriting
on a...
would return
from work
in the evening
and be met by his hostility, hatred and pain
at first
this presented itself almost
exclusively
to sexual matters
then she realized it
was an attempt
to limit
her work: indeed her progress
it was like a handcuff
but she felt it tighten
her wrists bled
after she escaped him:
she would never say
his name out loud
if she saw his handwriting
on a...
650 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Jan 2012 1:25am
22nd Jan 2012 1:25am
Even In the Nighttime
1.
At night as she lay on her bed in the
open
or in the tent with some of the canvas rolled
back
she could see the
sky
she watched the
sky
she watched the
stars
not for ten minutes or a quarter-hour as most people
did
but for hour after hour after
hour
even astronomers did not take in the sky with such
devotion:
for they were constantly occupied with
charting,
measurements, the fallibilities of their earthbound
...
At night as she lay on her bed in the
open
or in the tent with some of the canvas rolled
back
she could see the
sky
she watched the
sky
she watched the
stars
not for ten minutes or a quarter-hour as most people
did
but for hour after hour after
hour
even astronomers did not take in the sky with such
devotion:
for they were constantly occupied with
charting,
measurements, the fallibilities of their earthbound
...
703 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Jan 2012 8:57pm
20th Jan 2012 8:57pm
The Roof
1.
Sometimes:
when visiting her on the roof
the only place no one could see them
there in the deepest part of the night.
He half-expected to find her asleep
but would instead find her in a breathlesss trance
possessed: her blue-green eyes forced open
and fixed on staring at the sky.
2.
And once just once he found her
in a slack and weakened state like
someone who had just been seized broken and
released: it was then she had tried to tell
him but he barely understood...
Sometimes:
when visiting her on the roof
the only place no one could see them
there in the deepest part of the night.
He half-expected to find her asleep
but would instead find her in a breathlesss trance
possessed: her blue-green eyes forced open
and fixed on staring at the sky.
2.
And once just once he found her
in a slack and weakened state like
someone who had just been seized broken and
released: it was then she had tried to tell
him but he barely understood...
718 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Jan 2012 11:58pm
18th Jan 2012 11:58pm
Meandering
I am neither here.
I am neither there.
Water cools me not
nor ozone trappings.
The clouds are low:
I shall go and gather,
like a maiden in a castle.
Look down. There I may be:
Far away is closer than
we think, especially since
clinging bringing weightless
zero-: this and that cloud foams.
I am neither there.
Water cools me not
nor ozone trappings.
The clouds are low:
I shall go and gather,
like a maiden in a castle.
Look down. There I may be:
Far away is closer than
we think, especially since
clinging bringing weightless
zero-: this and that cloud foams.
562 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Jan 2012 11:36pm
17th Jan 2012 11:36pm
Notes
I'll sing a song for you
that is what I'm supposed
to do: while I ride the
shower-shampood smell of
your thick curly straight
hair, hanging heavier, warmer
than I am bare: you cast
under the heavens tides of
Lake Michigan flowering full,
just to see me, as calm as
jungle flowers: your car
parked in a No Parking Zone:
crying like a flower in the sun.
that is what I'm supposed
to do: while I ride the
shower-shampood smell of
your thick curly straight
hair, hanging heavier, warmer
than I am bare: you cast
under the heavens tides of
Lake Michigan flowering full,
just to see me, as calm as
jungle flowers: your car
parked in a No Parking Zone:
crying like a flower in the sun.
691 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
16th Jan 2012 3:39pm
16th Jan 2012 3:39pm
The Face
The position of her face
taking in the gray light
of december: all color
leached to monochrome and
the angle of bone and landscape
sharper for it. A palpable
impression of intensity, eyes
piercing and clear, with deep
darkened creases ceases at the
corners from years of staring
at the sun. Tousled white-blond
hair, skin tanned and tough: a
face that had known pain, found
it irrelevant, and pushed on.
taking in the gray light
of december: all color
leached to monochrome and
the angle of bone and landscape
sharper for it. A palpable
impression of intensity, eyes
piercing and clear, with deep
darkened creases ceases at the
corners from years of staring
at the sun. Tousled white-blond
hair, skin tanned and tough: a
face that had known pain, found
it irrelevant, and pushed on.
639 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
14th Jan 2012 9:02am
14th Jan 2012 9:02am
Once More
Time and time and
more time:
that moment with you
was purely and
exclusively just what it was:
an invitation, a direction,
a point of view, a pointing toward:
together, we stuck to the
starlight, poked ourselves
into the airy world,
because I had just become
jittery and began to doubt
what I plainly, clearly,
without interruption, unmediatedly
experienced:
that you,
brushed against me.
more time:
that moment with you
was purely and
exclusively just what it was:
an invitation, a direction,
a point of view, a pointing toward:
together, we stuck to the
starlight, poked ourselves
into the airy world,
because I had just become
jittery and began to doubt
what I plainly, clearly,
without interruption, unmediatedly
experienced:
that you,
brushed against me.
649 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
12th Jan 2012 9:02pm
12th Jan 2012 9:02pm
Loving You
Leaving breath-
haze and finger-
prints:
all over,
like:
up and down the universe,
which contains barn and
steeple,
like:
you and me,
gazing on a wall:
tall, as though turning
in for feathers:
or,
a sleeping bag.
haze and finger-
prints:
all over,
like:
up and down the universe,
which contains barn and
steeple,
like:
you and me,
gazing on a wall:
tall, as though turning
in for feathers:
or,
a sleeping bag.
720 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
11th Jan 2012 10:11pm
11th Jan 2012 10:11pm
On Years and Years
1.
When did the recognition come?
The slow submission of dreams,
the wind turning to glance down the years
like a steady erupting silence:
things seem hardly to have changed
at all, your hands, your face,
your hair, your lips:
even your heart is still beating.
2.
Evening approaches. There will be no
moon tonight, the evening before graduation,
out on Lake Michigan: the small tiny tidy
boats go home to the seagulls' cries,
their curved magnificant sails in flight:
from an imagined fire-sun.
When did the recognition come?
The slow submission of dreams,
the wind turning to glance down the years
like a steady erupting silence:
things seem hardly to have changed
at all, your hands, your face,
your hair, your lips:
even your heart is still beating.
2.
Evening approaches. There will be no
moon tonight, the evening before graduation,
out on Lake Michigan: the small tiny tidy
boats go home to the seagulls' cries,
their curved magnificant sails in flight:
from an imagined fire-sun.
523 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
11th Jan 2012 3:33pm
11th Jan 2012 3:33pm
Untitled Two
There were you
our hands holding
with this guy in Chi. town,
Wrigleyville, say they:
but anyway stay because
my hands are not mine
any more than my body entire:
if I am my body someone is
in massive like in huge trouble:
now that's wierd like in "goofy"
just wierd in the sense that makes
one (or two) stop and think about
what I am up to, you too: being
so full of unconventional angles,
ricochets, cronicles: the words
are all about absorbingly...
our hands holding
with this guy in Chi. town,
Wrigleyville, say they:
but anyway stay because
my hands are not mine
any more than my body entire:
if I am my body someone is
in massive like in huge trouble:
now that's wierd like in "goofy"
just wierd in the sense that makes
one (or two) stop and think about
what I am up to, you too: being
so full of unconventional angles,
ricochets, cronicles: the words
are all about absorbingly...
689 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by marcella1
