Submissions by nomoth
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction sense of place
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
24th Jun 2019 12:24pm
24th Jun 2019 12:24pm
pakistan
(for Threshold of the Imaginary and Reality competition)
ribbon show
tied to trees
in my room
landing strips
of new grass letting go
I cannot let it go
pulling the portrait
pendant
from around her neck
to know what was there
unsure what would happen
what it could do to me
if I let a past
make my fingers shake
as the clasp is unhooked
did not want to see the words inscribed
the scrape of black feather
of a name inside;
mustard dreams wished it was mine. ...
ribbon show
tied to trees
in my room
landing strips
of new grass letting go
I cannot let it go
pulling the portrait
pendant
from around her neck
to know what was there
unsure what would happen
what it could do to me
if I let a past
make my fingers shake
as the clasp is unhooked
did not want to see the words inscribed
the scrape of black feather
of a name inside;
mustard dreams wished it was mine. ...
#WritersBlock
75 reads
12 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Jun 2019 6:54pm
17th Jun 2019 6:54pm
muse’s; bridled mule and jade tiger meet
this scruffy mule
that bears my heft
broke his chain and reigns
to address her shouldered bodyguard
they sniff noses
hide and hair
moon-smoked paws and worn hoof
my boy could sense the quiet stormed
strength in tender promise
of transport
and stomped in admiration
learning to breathe
under watery
oceanic eyes
dragging him in hand-held reassurance
under tidal sighs; lunging fearlessly
into Mariana submission
leathered under-currents
lashing like bodies of eels.
over...
that bears my heft
broke his chain and reigns
to address her shouldered bodyguard
they sniff noses
hide and hair
moon-smoked paws and worn hoof
my boy could sense the quiet stormed
strength in tender promise
of transport
and stomped in admiration
learning to breathe
under watery
oceanic eyes
dragging him in hand-held reassurance
under tidal sighs; lunging fearlessly
into Mariana submission
leathered under-currents
lashing like bodies of eels.
over...
#friendship
#inspirational
#travel
#admiration
#respect
80 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Jun 2019 11:43pm
15th Jun 2019 11:43pm
rhinoceros in a glass blown bowl
A man and the man
with his second thoughts,
with no tale of woe
plainly used to reviews of himself
he killed all he needed to kill
though this slow ‘business’ of
hawkish imagery
won’t let up its low
even if denying glowing coals of breast
beacon in bright camphorous
parliament would distract or carol
his designated affairs
no distraction this
for they would matter the most
because these are things out of his control,
that came alive tonight.
with his second thoughts,
with no tale of woe
plainly used to reviews of himself
he killed all he needed to kill
though this slow ‘business’ of
hawkish imagery
won’t let up its low
even if denying glowing coals of breast
beacon in bright camphorous
parliament would distract or carol
his designated affairs
no distraction this
for they would matter the most
because these are things out of his control,
that came alive tonight.
#gratitude
52 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th Jun 2019 5:10pm
11th Jun 2019 5:10pm
lambs ears
(When Dark Doves Fly competition)
wrested from a flight
I whispered back, each stem’s name
that had fermented in her perfume.
a collapse of my head
upon her nape of morning mist,
where blood had flowered
anabatic musks; guiding me
under a nettled raiment.
…and I shoplifted, scruffed this moment
and placed it into the crosshairs
my on/off switch
as her flushed spine, unzipped
with heavens weight crumbling.
caryatid; from whom each cracked pore
poured red dusted sand
leaking...
wrested from a flight
I whispered back, each stem’s name
that had fermented in her perfume.
a collapse of my head
upon her nape of morning mist,
where blood had flowered
anabatic musks; guiding me
under a nettled raiment.
…and I shoplifted, scruffed this moment
and placed it into the crosshairs
my on/off switch
as her flushed spine, unzipped
with heavens weight crumbling.
caryatid; from whom each cracked pore
poured red dusted sand
leaking...
#love
#death
#separation
85 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
4th Jun 2019 5:20pm
4th Jun 2019 5:20pm
two mirrors
(Fear of oneself: Sharon Olds tribute competition)
It was as if he was scared that the sky-blue
anger in his eyes would become dull
if I became a better person. When he died
I tore through; sauntered creepily; shamelessly
removed all the drawers, emptied all pockets,
shook all bags, opened all the books for clues
to know why, whenever we had talked,
we were in two different rooms.
We had a couple of large mirrors
in the house, angelically bordered with rust, ...
It was as if he was scared that the sky-blue
anger in his eyes would become dull
if I became a better person. When he died
I tore through; sauntered creepily; shamelessly
removed all the drawers, emptied all pockets,
shook all bags, opened all the books for clues
to know why, whenever we had talked,
we were in two different rooms.
We had a couple of large mirrors
in the house, angelically bordered with rust, ...
#father
#childhood
#memories
124 reads
18 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
2nd Jun 2019 6:03am
2nd Jun 2019 6:03am
wiping the eyes from your sleep
This is the last line
and this song has turned lead-heavy
and the cantors face is turning blood red…
a stumbling cantation for asenath
…despite us being drunk buddied-up like a forest fire,
delinquents setting light to delicate groves
where we’ll linger around
scorched hay and former lambs
and we ain’t waiting
we just stand impressed.
No-one’s going to reform this con
(Old dads whistling tune, his eyes bird-light blue in the pocket of your jeans)
still...
and this song has turned lead-heavy
and the cantors face is turning blood red…
a stumbling cantation for asenath
…despite us being drunk buddied-up like a forest fire,
delinquents setting light to delicate groves
where we’ll linger around
scorched hay and former lambs
and we ain’t waiting
we just stand impressed.
No-one’s going to reform this con
(Old dads whistling tune, his eyes bird-light blue in the pocket of your jeans)
still...
#love
#mother
#MentalHealth
83 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th May 2019 9:10pm
27th May 2019 9:10pm
to butter the cups
let this appetite wander with the dog
so not collared, in sovereign heat
where no howl falters
on spirit bed-thrown sheets, spread skin-deep
linen lain, they scrawl;
and limbered up
entwined with the dust-bowls within their twirls.
each beast nose-kissed,
each more tender than the last
humbled to know that this has never been more
than finding that perfect architect
...
so not collared, in sovereign heat
where no howl falters
on spirit bed-thrown sheets, spread skin-deep
linen lain, they scrawl;
and limbered up
entwined with the dust-bowls within their twirls.
each beast nose-kissed,
each more tender than the last
humbled to know that this has never been more
than finding that perfect architect
...
#dreams
#LifeGoals
#respect
80 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
22nd May 2019 6:24pm
22nd May 2019 6:24pm
qumran
throwing fists down my throat,
down the spine to the boards,
scrambling to grab by the scruff of the neck
my slow burial; excavating
some idea of an immortal gestalt
that I had no skill
or say in configuring
though would sell for a penny.
so gladly
and it’s
as if these hands on this core would be a conclusion;
a destination to debark:
from this view of a coward's island
I am the...
down the spine to the boards,
scrambling to grab by the scruff of the neck
my slow burial; excavating
some idea of an immortal gestalt
that I had no skill
or say in configuring
though would sell for a penny.
so gladly
and it’s
as if these hands on this core would be a conclusion;
a destination to debark:
from this view of a coward's island
I am the...
#love
#heartbroken
#aging
125 reads
10 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st May 2019 12:57pm
21st May 2019 12:57pm
hymnal: mass of the specific. mass of the pacific.
(for Rainbow Prophecy competition)
mass of the specific
being lost was never the problem
these sentient scars breathe
a longing,
for a guiding constellation
in a dandelion seed
when it splits and disperses.
If I could survey the rabbit tracks
on the lay of you. And know where they lead
I would burn your church down:
see the little snares...
mass of the specific
being lost was never the problem
these sentient scars breathe
a longing,
for a guiding constellation
in a dandelion seed
when it splits and disperses.
If I could survey the rabbit tracks
on the lay of you. And know where they lead
I would burn your church down:
see the little snares...
#identity
#nature
#religion
80 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
17th May 2019 10:01pm
17th May 2019 10:01pm
fur raging
the seamstress in you, were we to wrestle
would skin for a ribbon
my port wine stain
count the times you’ve asked and now you know,
a lip smacked in appetite satisfying old questions
‘knowing why I am so stable’
‘why I am so strong’
you should never waver in your asking
in the undressing
you should cauter for a sequin
my birthmark, like your dress ...
would skin for a ribbon
my port wine stain
count the times you’ve asked and now you know,
a lip smacked in appetite satisfying old questions
‘knowing why I am so stable’
‘why I am so strong’
you should never waver in your asking
in the undressing
you should cauter for a sequin
my birthmark, like your dress ...
#love
#respect
132 reads
16 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th May 2019 8:52pm
15th May 2019 8:52pm
Birth to Islands - snowglobes
Your eyes are in an ice storm,
baby red-raw
see underneath your glassy
shield a coral
and curious fish
sniffing tips
of fingers probing
then turn to leap, plastic sick
with wings that make you yelp
from out your bowl.
You are dancing in a hurricane,
wild ballerina
see you lose yourself
in chaotic patterns
yearning to perfect
and home in to the source
of the display of bees drunk
on the beats of their own wings.
Your soles sticky on lemonade gravel ...
baby red-raw
see underneath your glassy
shield a coral
and curious fish
sniffing tips
of fingers probing
then turn to leap, plastic sick
with wings that make you yelp
from out your bowl.
You are dancing in a hurricane,
wild ballerina
see you lose yourself
in chaotic patterns
yearning to perfect
and home in to the source
of the display of bees drunk
on the beats of their own wings.
Your soles sticky on lemonade gravel ...
#children
#dreams
#environment
109 reads
13 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th May 2019 11:02pm
11th May 2019 11:02pm
no tears except in wings
as she sails away under a blanket eye
as she falls underneath the rooftops into her garden
to nestle and rest;
in oceans she will disappear.
not a drop,
not a drop dear Lord
poured to you;
the scales are balanced unevenly.
These are my maps I’m making her.
as she falls underneath the rooftops into her garden
to nestle and rest;
in oceans she will disappear.
not a drop,
not a drop dear Lord
poured to you;
the scales are balanced unevenly.
These are my maps I’m making her.
#kindness
#mother
#MentalHealth
95 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by nomoth
