Submissions by murmurdreams
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Total amateur subscribing to mostly unconventional methods of poetry writing, I write small stories or let experiences flow through me onto paper or page.
SELF POEM
Published
12th Dec 2013 3:21pm
12th Dec 2013 3:21pm
Refraction
I am the hidden collarbones
the bent perception behind the mirror
a lie wrapped in comfortable skin
shifting vision and erasing thought.
What you see is out of reach
ideas lost in ages, unborn
the perfection held here aloft
for you to aspire and never catch.
I am a shaking blur in eyes
weighed down with time
seeing nothing but past mistakes
and pretend futures
Racing toward me blind
the warped heft of reality
slamming full force into synapse
pregnant with disbelief.
I am the watcher with too much,
extra...
the bent perception behind the mirror
a lie wrapped in comfortable skin
shifting vision and erasing thought.
What you see is out of reach
ideas lost in ages, unborn
the perfection held here aloft
for you to aspire and never catch.
I am a shaking blur in eyes
weighed down with time
seeing nothing but past mistakes
and pretend futures
Racing toward me blind
the warped heft of reality
slamming full force into synapse
pregnant with disbelief.
I am the watcher with too much,
extra...
697 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
29th Nov 2013 4:50am
29th Nov 2013 4:50am
Vying Season
Loudest is the summer
the click and constant drone
dry heat, cracking stalks
and boisterous laughter
Shimmering on roads
and the deep, throaty roar
of blistering breeze and
unbearable sighs
She pushes warmly
honeyed eyes against
the winter winds of soft
cool air and hushed damp.
Fire crackling in brick
warmed with cloven spice
cold hands clasped
about clay and cocoa
A shudder of electric
gooseflesh, tumbled leaves
and menthol nights
in humid, scarf covered breath.
the click and constant drone
dry heat, cracking stalks
and boisterous laughter
Shimmering on roads
and the deep, throaty roar
of blistering breeze and
unbearable sighs
She pushes warmly
honeyed eyes against
the winter winds of soft
cool air and hushed damp.
Fire crackling in brick
warmed with cloven spice
cold hands clasped
about clay and cocoa
A shudder of electric
gooseflesh, tumbled leaves
and menthol nights
in humid, scarf covered breath.
518 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th Nov 2013 2:39am
26th Nov 2013 2:39am
Bound
Memories collect under my nails,
sick and sweet and dry.
Taking from the eyes of others
ash and smoke, dust and skin.
Lights in the distance
spell my horror in blinking,
sinking suspicion, dancing before me
like an accusing finger.
Leveled, parched and waiting
I slump into the earth,
stars in my eyes
and blood, red and grey, on my claws.
I bay at frozen, frosted sky.
The echoing turns of the universe
pulsing under my skin,
horrid, etched in black.
I am the last dark moon
in fingers and lace,
burned,...
sick and sweet and dry.
Taking from the eyes of others
ash and smoke, dust and skin.
Lights in the distance
spell my horror in blinking,
sinking suspicion, dancing before me
like an accusing finger.
Leveled, parched and waiting
I slump into the earth,
stars in my eyes
and blood, red and grey, on my claws.
I bay at frozen, frosted sky.
The echoing turns of the universe
pulsing under my skin,
horrid, etched in black.
I am the last dark moon
in fingers and lace,
burned,...
566 reads
1 Comment
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
26th Nov 2013 2:37am
26th Nov 2013 2:37am
Featherlion
Stars flashed to life in some too-close distance. They burned her up for a few brief heartbeats, but in their wake they pulled a wave of ecstasy that made her eyes close and her heart race. Every particle of her body cried out, and she remembered nothing - knew nothing - but felt only the pleasure of the music, the dance, the beating in her skull.
Snatches of time were nothing but acidic blur, jumbled memories. Montages of images and sensations, and through it all, was him.
His whispering, shuddering, fingers twitching on dials, moving cords and wrapping light around everything...
Snatches of time were nothing but acidic blur, jumbled memories. Montages of images and sensations, and through it all, was him.
His whispering, shuddering, fingers twitching on dials, moving cords and wrapping light around everything...
721 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
24th Nov 2013 2:52pm
24th Nov 2013 2:52pm
Wings
My hands have turned to ash,
grey and gnarled like twigs
branches twisting in the wind
to tear and snap at passing.
I have lined my nest with parchments
It shifts in the breeze with noise,
the gentle tap of glass once sand
and filled with inky secrets.
There are feathers in my hair
but not a one poised for flight,
beating against my long neck
in a bid for currents of freedom.
My downy past is inflated,
gorged on winter winds,
a sussurus in my aching head
to swipe and catch at thoughts.
Tumbling over stone and...
grey and gnarled like twigs
branches twisting in the wind
to tear and snap at passing.
I have lined my nest with parchments
It shifts in the breeze with noise,
the gentle tap of glass once sand
and filled with inky secrets.
There are feathers in my hair
but not a one poised for flight,
beating against my long neck
in a bid for currents of freedom.
My downy past is inflated,
gorged on winter winds,
a sussurus in my aching head
to swipe and catch at thoughts.
Tumbling over stone and...
668 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th Nov 2013 11:38am
24th Nov 2013 11:38am
Nights Under Sand
Why should I take what you give?
Lighter than air and just as substantial
within my stretched and painted hands
barely contained, simmering hot.
Will there always be a great nothing?
Nothing offered, nothing to take
only horror and sinking innards
A sadness drilled into blood and bone.
I burn with sunny face and light heart
until I encounter the walls of you
the pushing back, the sand storm
you use to protect within yourself
forcing moon rise upon the landscape
of my threadbare soul, weepingly
held out under unrestorative...
Lighter than air and just as substantial
within my stretched and painted hands
barely contained, simmering hot.
Will there always be a great nothing?
Nothing offered, nothing to take
only horror and sinking innards
A sadness drilled into blood and bone.
I burn with sunny face and light heart
until I encounter the walls of you
the pushing back, the sand storm
you use to protect within yourself
forcing moon rise upon the landscape
of my threadbare soul, weepingly
held out under unrestorative...
586 reads
7 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
24th Nov 2013 2:39am
24th Nov 2013 2:39am
Thoughts Of Flight
For months at a time my words are precious and brilliant, effervescent gold on rare days and burning steadily bronze through the light of my eyes.
Then I will stumble, I will fall.
I will hit the ground with such force that I will not get back up.
Everything turns inky, spidery black. Satin and smoke and sinister all at once, pouring out, line after line after line.
Long grey fingers with impossible joints spreading over my mouth, my heart, the back of my skull.
Pushing me, pushing until I have no words at all.
Then I will stumble, I will fall.
I will hit the ground with such force that I will not get back up.
Everything turns inky, spidery black. Satin and smoke and sinister all at once, pouring out, line after line after line.
Long grey fingers with impossible joints spreading over my mouth, my heart, the back of my skull.
Pushing me, pushing until I have no words at all.
601 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2013 4:44pm
23rd Nov 2013 4:44pm
Roero
She was cruel like the ocean. Always unsure.
She watched the ships slide forward with the tide, closing her eyes to focus on the sound of the rushing water and shouting men. She let her anger drift away with the waves, breathing in the salty air, calming her frayed nerves.
It was always like this by the sea. Nothing soothed her the way water did.
There was something about the dry wood and stone of the town that choked her, made it hard to think, hard to hold a thought in her skull with any coherency. It was nearly impossible to separate the land from the sea in the...
She watched the ships slide forward with the tide, closing her eyes to focus on the sound of the rushing water and shouting men. She let her anger drift away with the waves, breathing in the salty air, calming her frayed nerves.
It was always like this by the sea. Nothing soothed her the way water did.
There was something about the dry wood and stone of the town that choked her, made it hard to think, hard to hold a thought in her skull with any coherency. It was nearly impossible to separate the land from the sea in the...
690 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2013 4:41pm
23rd Nov 2013 4:41pm
Slow Decay
The words always turned bitter
stained with verdigris
dull and stolen
oxidising gently in the air.
I cast these brassy bracelets
finally to the sea
an offering of loss and leaving
deadened shores behind.
There’s a blank space
a break in the thudding
the slowing of my horrid
ropey, fearful heart.
I hold flakes in my hands
of soft, white, dead salt.
My past peace
My weary eyes.
stained with verdigris
dull and stolen
oxidising gently in the air.
I cast these brassy bracelets
finally to the sea
an offering of loss and leaving
deadened shores behind.
There’s a blank space
a break in the thudding
the slowing of my horrid
ropey, fearful heart.
I hold flakes in my hands
of soft, white, dead salt.
My past peace
My weary eyes.
781 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2013 9:53pm
22nd Nov 2013 9:53pm
Avalanche
Don’t pretend just on me
seeing here was never my eyes
never my form, my light
it was all her grace and gesture.
I never lured you myself
for lack of might, I tried.
Response depends on sirens call
and unwanted nonchalance.
I feel the isolation, thrumming
burning into temples
racing down your fingertips
like no one sees, in you.
Not visible, I stand
back, far in the shadows
waiting to lift you up
only when you need me.
Yet you are the one who offers
first, hands and shoulders
bracing wintery breath...
seeing here was never my eyes
never my form, my light
it was all her grace and gesture.
I never lured you myself
for lack of might, I tried.
Response depends on sirens call
and unwanted nonchalance.
I feel the isolation, thrumming
burning into temples
racing down your fingertips
like no one sees, in you.
Not visible, I stand
back, far in the shadows
waiting to lift you up
only when you need me.
Yet you are the one who offers
first, hands and shoulders
bracing wintery breath...
648 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2013 9:52pm
22nd Nov 2013 9:52pm
The Overlander
I am lost in the tips of trees
toes balanced on the apex of pine and oak
And I’m left thinking of you
late at night when I’m alone.
I can pretend I’m not allergic to this
to the things I feel.
Pretending to be invincible
until it falls away.
All that’s left is the pain over you
standing on the tips of trees
Needles in my heels and such
desperate disbelief, to run far.
The light on the horizon is you.
It has always been.
When you walk to the floor
When you offer a hand.
Glee comes softer now
tempered with...
toes balanced on the apex of pine and oak
And I’m left thinking of you
late at night when I’m alone.
I can pretend I’m not allergic to this
to the things I feel.
Pretending to be invincible
until it falls away.
All that’s left is the pain over you
standing on the tips of trees
Needles in my heels and such
desperate disbelief, to run far.
The light on the horizon is you.
It has always been.
When you walk to the floor
When you offer a hand.
Glee comes softer now
tempered with...
599 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
21st Nov 2013 2:11am
21st Nov 2013 2:11am
One Hundred Steps
I should not dare hope to see your face lit that way again.
The rapidly broken mouth
stretched to smile
eyes alight with gentle joy
upon recognition and waving hand.
I fall into you at perfect level
arms clasped to comfort
horrifically perfect
and punctuated with secret smiles.
We pretend at non-reluctance to draw apart
further and stranger until we bounce closer
to /step/step/strike/ the boards
in course shyness and restless hands.
The rapidly broken mouth
stretched to smile
eyes alight with gentle joy
upon recognition and waving hand.
I fall into you at perfect level
arms clasped to comfort
horrifically perfect
and punctuated with secret smiles.
We pretend at non-reluctance to draw apart
further and stranger until we bounce closer
to /step/step/strike/ the boards
in course shyness and restless hands.
654 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by murmurdreams
