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
9th Jul 2013 10:05pm
9th Jul 2013 10:05pm
The Really Real: An Experiment
An echo
in the street,
near pavement
seemingly secure:
I almost hear
the echo, vibrating,
gyrating. I know it
is not mine. Fog
remains, as I step from
the curb, into the
street, in the middle of
the street: and beyond,
beyond. Only the fog is real.
in the street,
near pavement
seemingly secure:
I almost hear
the echo, vibrating,
gyrating. I know it
is not mine. Fog
remains, as I step from
the curb, into the
street, in the middle of
the street: and beyond,
beyond. Only the fog is real.
617 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
8th Jul 2013 5:38pm
8th Jul 2013 5:38pm
Exit
Let's dig a tunnel.
Let's make a funnel.
These are two ways we
can find our maybe way
out.
No need to rent a tuxedo.
No need for a new air-matress.
Although these would only hint
at a way out, too: like standing
on each other's shoulders.
After all
hell is
not somewhere
you just
abandon.
Let's make a funnel.
These are two ways we
can find our maybe way
out.
No need to rent a tuxedo.
No need for a new air-matress.
Although these would only hint
at a way out, too: like standing
on each other's shoulders.
After all
hell is
not somewhere
you just
abandon.
598 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Jul 2013 2:36am
8th Jul 2013 2:36am
No, No
1.
All we have are
possibilities,
probabilistic
possibilities,
like in Quantum
Theory. This is
not debatable,
like taking off
our shoes and
pounding on the
wall.
2.
Fear, lonliness,
unspokenness walk
silently through
the garden in search
of an exit.
3.
I could be a pitcher
who throws only curves
or a CPA who refuses
to do taxes.
4.
Life/existence has
come to this.
All we have are
possibilities,
probabilistic
possibilities,
like in Quantum
Theory. This is
not debatable,
like taking off
our shoes and
pounding on the
wall.
2.
Fear, lonliness,
unspokenness walk
silently through
the garden in search
of an exit.
3.
I could be a pitcher
who throws only curves
or a CPA who refuses
to do taxes.
4.
Life/existence has
come to this.
601 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
8th Jul 2013 2:15am
8th Jul 2013 2:15am
The Ad
I saw it advertised
one day that the
only way to find
you was in the
newspaper.
So many people
answered the ad
I felt sad: pushed
down, didn't know
how to run around.
Maybe I needed to
buy a ticket as the
ad seemed like a
pretty big thicket.
one day that the
only way to find
you was in the
newspaper.
So many people
answered the ad
I felt sad: pushed
down, didn't know
how to run around.
Maybe I needed to
buy a ticket as the
ad seemed like a
pretty big thicket.
612 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
6th Jul 2013 7:01pm
6th Jul 2013 7:01pm
Earliest Morning
I've got those
early morning blues
over you
over you
I've never been
there before what
am I gonna do?
Now you wanta go
wanta go
I'll have to take a
different road alternative
freeway
to be free from you!
That's what I'm gonna do
gonna do:
even though I've got
those early morning blues.
early morning blues
over you
over you
I've never been
there before what
am I gonna do?
Now you wanta go
wanta go
I'll have to take a
different road alternative
freeway
to be free from you!
That's what I'm gonna do
gonna do:
even though I've got
those early morning blues.
740 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
6th Jul 2013 6:50pm
6th Jul 2013 6:50pm
Joining
They were linked
like coal trucks,
although the light of this
particular morning
swallowed them in a primitive,
subtle incandesence: which
made them bear the burden of
accumulated memories, for
they were joined together
so profoundly.
like coal trucks,
although the light of this
particular morning
swallowed them in a primitive,
subtle incandesence: which
made them bear the burden of
accumulated memories, for
they were joined together
so profoundly.
787 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Jul 2013 5:12pm
4th Jul 2013 5:12pm
Pace
1.
The best
in history,
mystery:
let's play.
2.
The one
best story,
not in an
anywhere book:
let's play.
The best
in history,
mystery:
let's play.
2.
The one
best story,
not in an
anywhere book:
let's play.
609 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
2nd Jul 2013 9:46pm
2nd Jul 2013 9:46pm
476.2
1.
The best
the worst:
the mostly
unusual not.
2.
Achievements
clapping events:
feats of imagination.
3.
Unexplained unusual
blunders life live:
love.
The best
the worst:
the mostly
unusual not.
2.
Achievements
clapping events:
feats of imagination.
3.
Unexplained unusual
blunders life live:
love.
696 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Jul 2013 10:27am
1st Jul 2013 10:27am
Understanding
I just don't
understand, woman:
this one-sided love.
You call me your man,
whisper into my ear,
touch me all over, say
you can never ever leave
me. But the way you
receive/deceive me: I
just don't understand.
understand, woman:
this one-sided love.
You call me your man,
whisper into my ear,
touch me all over, say
you can never ever leave
me. But the way you
receive/deceive me: I
just don't understand.
770 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
29th Jun 2013 00:18am
29th Jun 2013 00:18am
Sylvia
So long
so much
time since
her death
has anyone
been so
ravaged almost
angelic-like?
The self-mutilations
the breakdowns
her Rambo marriage:
with her two small
children sleeping
peacefully on the
next floor. Still
nothing about her
living lived life
is whole-hearted
or resolved.
so much
time since
her death
has anyone
been so
ravaged almost
angelic-like?
The self-mutilations
the breakdowns
her Rambo marriage:
with her two small
children sleeping
peacefully on the
next floor. Still
nothing about her
living lived life
is whole-hearted
or resolved.
813 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
28th Jun 2013 1:38am
28th Jun 2013 1:38am
Hearing
Her voice was the voice
of a best friend: the
single most friend in
the world, very casual,
yet intimate.
Her voice was also
refined, learned,
literary, like a
chipmunk running
down the street,
swiftly passing green
grass and habitual burrows
in which safety could be
found, scampering down
this familiar street instead:
her voice I heard, resounding,
resounding, with, like the
chipmunk, no safety to find.
of a best friend: the
single most friend in
the world, very casual,
yet intimate.
Her voice was also
refined, learned,
literary, like a
chipmunk running
down the street,
swiftly passing green
grass and habitual burrows
in which safety could be
found, scampering down
this familiar street instead:
her voice I heard, resounding,
resounding, with, like the
chipmunk, no safety to find.
749 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
26th Jun 2013 1:39am
26th Jun 2013 1:39am
The world
is certainly a
rancous one, so
numerous, fractured,
debilitated friendships,
various feuds between
families, with the origin
generationally unknown:
accusations, arguments
to the point that healing
forgiveness becomes impossible.
Everyone and anybody becomes
scarred, foolish for a lifetime:
the world is like this.
rancous one, so
numerous, fractured,
debilitated friendships,
various feuds between
families, with the origin
generationally unknown:
accusations, arguments
to the point that healing
forgiveness becomes impossible.
Everyone and anybody becomes
scarred, foolish for a lifetime:
the world is like this.
767 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by marcella1
