Submissions by oTHER_vOICES
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Rita Mae Brown "Let others live in black and white, YOU must live in Technicolour. Let your readers see τђє blood at τђє heart of τђє ruby."
DARK POEM
Published
22nd Oct 2013 12:03pm
22nd Oct 2013 12:03pm
SERIOUS MOONLIGHT
THE SERIOUS MOONLIGHT
i am a lover
of the serious moonlight
the solemn pleasure
of the rose
and the ugly criticism
of the early morning light
that makes me doubt
my frivolous existence
i love
not only the pretty things
the sparkling baubles
of your occasional kisses
the soft seductive touches
of your eyes
i love too
your lies
it’s twisted i know
but when you lie to me
it shows that you still care
enough to hide the truth
it is your youth
that bruises my age
your rotting love
that...
i am a lover
of the serious moonlight
the solemn pleasure
of the rose
and the ugly criticism
of the early morning light
that makes me doubt
my frivolous existence
i love
not only the pretty things
the sparkling baubles
of your occasional kisses
the soft seductive touches
of your eyes
i love too
your lies
it’s twisted i know
but when you lie to me
it shows that you still care
enough to hide the truth
it is your youth
that bruises my age
your rotting love
that...
656 reads
0 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
22nd Oct 2013 3:12am
22nd Oct 2013 3:12am
FOREIGN TONGUES
Lying in bed with you
darkness on dark skin
creates a dream image
the only beacons of light
are teeth that flash
and beckon me
to foreign tongues
We make love
fucking comes much later
but now I am
a trapped bird
that suddenly set free
learns to fly
Then later
when we fuck
I die so many deaths
inside of you
all my hiding is set aside
I die the death of pride
the death of unfaithfulness
the death of lies
the death of withholding
and with my surrender
my spirit flies
(Drawing:...
darkness on dark skin
creates a dream image
the only beacons of light
are teeth that flash
and beckon me
to foreign tongues
We make love
fucking comes much later
but now I am
a trapped bird
that suddenly set free
learns to fly
Then later
when we fuck
I die so many deaths
inside of you
all my hiding is set aside
I die the death of pride
the death of unfaithfulness
the death of lies
the death of withholding
and with my surrender
my spirit flies
(Drawing:...
1014 reads
4 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
22nd Oct 2013 3:05am
22nd Oct 2013 3:05am
THE OTHER SIDE OF TENDERNESS (My AIDS Diary) SEVEN: The Razor Edge Of Night
This is a haven
from the razor edge of night
where flames of hell
still burn
but not so bright
Where sorrow is
but sorrow is not felt
where the orbit of the earth
around the sun
has stopped its flight
One moment to sleep
as though in death
to breathe the breath
of life
a dying breath
Not knowing still
in the very stillness
of the dead white walls
what battles rage inside
what mad ravings are stilled
by pills
Carlton’s Diary
Monday, 4th February 1991
I’ve been booked off work...
from the razor edge of night
where flames of hell
still burn
but not so bright
Where sorrow is
but sorrow is not felt
where the orbit of the earth
around the sun
has stopped its flight
One moment to sleep
as though in death
to breathe the breath
of life
a dying breath
Not knowing still
in the very stillness
of the dead white walls
what battles rage inside
what mad ravings are stilled
by pills
Carlton’s Diary
Monday, 4th February 1991
I’ve been booked off work...
718 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Oct 2013 6:47pm
21st Oct 2013 6:47pm
THE UNFINISHED CONVERSATION
ONE
there are shadows that gather
in the corners of my room at night
dripping sparkling drops of poison
into the dream
i try to climb out
but the unfinished conversation
keeps me there
TWO
i said
‘where all sorrows end
i will open a window for you
and hold your hand
as we fall’
you said
‘i have jumped a thousand times
but still I am here’
i said
‘that is so sad’
THREE
you said
‘you are drowning in your psyche
and cannot see the joy
and beauty
that...
there are shadows that gather
in the corners of my room at night
dripping sparkling drops of poison
into the dream
i try to climb out
but the unfinished conversation
keeps me there
TWO
i said
‘where all sorrows end
i will open a window for you
and hold your hand
as we fall’
you said
‘i have jumped a thousand times
but still I am here’
i said
‘that is so sad’
THREE
you said
‘you are drowning in your psyche
and cannot see the joy
and beauty
that...
718 reads
1 Comment
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
21st Oct 2013 6:03pm
21st Oct 2013 6:03pm
THE OTHER SIDE OF TENDERNESS (My AIDS Diary) SIX: The Angel of Death
i have a sadness
that has settled down so deep
that nothing I imagine
could ever reach
to tear it out
not drugs nor drink
can sink that far
nor angels in whatever form
perform this miracle
and remove this scar
Carlton’s Diary:
Wednesday, 30th January 1991
My life has always had a soundtrack. Some of the sound has become scratched and faded but can still be replayed in my memory. My mother’s voice singing to me in the cot; "Soft as the voice of an angel, breathing a lesson unheard.” My father’s voice; “Don't expect life to be...
that has settled down so deep
that nothing I imagine
could ever reach
to tear it out
not drugs nor drink
can sink that far
nor angels in whatever form
perform this miracle
and remove this scar
Carlton’s Diary:
Wednesday, 30th January 1991
My life has always had a soundtrack. Some of the sound has become scratched and faded but can still be replayed in my memory. My mother’s voice singing to me in the cot; "Soft as the voice of an angel, breathing a lesson unheard.” My father’s voice; “Don't expect life to be...
726 reads
6 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
21st Oct 2013 8:59am
21st Oct 2013 8:59am
LUCKY LIPS
i was underage
so when they asked
how old are you
i replied
how old do you
want me to be
mama said
don’t argue with them
hun
just do what you’re told
what hurt me mom
wasn’t the pain
the disgust
at smells and acts
that made me
want to puke
it was the fact
you were in
the other room
warming up
another john
after
mama would take me
to the bar
and let me choose
the jukebox tunes
my favourite
was lucky lips
cliff at his best
and then mama
danced with me...
so when they asked
how old are you
i replied
how old do you
want me to be
mama said
don’t argue with them
hun
just do what you’re told
what hurt me mom
wasn’t the pain
the disgust
at smells and acts
that made me
want to puke
it was the fact
you were in
the other room
warming up
another john
after
mama would take me
to the bar
and let me choose
the jukebox tunes
my favourite
was lucky lips
cliff at his best
and then mama
danced with me...
689 reads
6 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
21st Oct 2013 7:41am
21st Oct 2013 7:41am
THE OTHER SIDE OF TENDERNESS (My AIDS Diary) FIVE: Cathy and Nick
Cathy met Nick at a small hotel in West Street called The Tudor House; because it was in an area where it was unlikely that anyone they knew would see them. The bar was fitted out with fake, four-centred arches, dark wooden mouldings and a wide, full length mirror.
“I’ll have a double brandy and ginger ale,” she told Nick as she sat down.
When their drinks arrived they chatted amiably as though they were two old friends meeting for a coffee in their lunch hour. Except it was evening and the sun was beginning to sink beneath the sea; leaving an ugly grey smudge on the...
“I’ll have a double brandy and ginger ale,” she told Nick as she sat down.
When their drinks arrived they chatted amiably as though they were two old friends meeting for a coffee in their lunch hour. Except it was evening and the sun was beginning to sink beneath the sea; leaving an ugly grey smudge on the...
680 reads
2 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
20th Oct 2013 11:16pm
20th Oct 2013 11:16pm
dat ting dat stinks
sometimes i smoke
dat ting dat stinks
i love dem pills
dem blues dem pinks
my daddy says
‘you drinks you burn’
to which i say
‘pop, take your turn’
there must be more
to life than this
or am i dumb
to think it’s cool
to dis the wise
and take the piss
to just be numb
and play the fool
(Collage Detail: Family Album by Carlton)
© Carlton Carr 2013-10-19
http://othervoices.co.uk
dat ting dat stinks
i love dem pills
dem blues dem pinks
my daddy says
‘you drinks you burn’
to which i say
‘pop, take your turn’
there must be more
to life than this
or am i dumb
to think it’s cool
to dis the wise
and take the piss
to just be numb
and play the fool
(Collage Detail: Family Album by Carlton)
© Carlton Carr 2013-10-19
http://othervoices.co.uk
678 reads
4 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
20th Oct 2013 11:02pm
20th Oct 2013 11:02pm
THE OTHER SIDE OF TENDERNESS (My AIDS Diary) FOUR: A Litany Of Stings
I go through this valley alone
even God has deserted me
friends smile and predict medical errors
while lovers turn away in the dark
it cannot be
Who am I to rage against
this tiny thing that strips me
into a litany of stings so great
that even hell hath dimmed her fury?
I will not fight
Take me into the darkness
the real well of pain
and shield me from the light
of heartbreaking hope
just let me be
Carlton’s Diary:
Sunday, 27th January 1991
Cathy invited Nick, a colleague from work, to...
even God has deserted me
friends smile and predict medical errors
while lovers turn away in the dark
it cannot be
Who am I to rage against
this tiny thing that strips me
into a litany of stings so great
that even hell hath dimmed her fury?
I will not fight
Take me into the darkness
the real well of pain
and shield me from the light
of heartbreaking hope
just let me be
Carlton’s Diary:
Sunday, 27th January 1991
Cathy invited Nick, a colleague from work, to...
682 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
20th Oct 2013 1:10pm
20th Oct 2013 1:10pm
LISTEN TO THE WALLS (To my parents from my inner child)
listen to the walls
the walls are laughing
their laughter has crept under my bed
and scares me in the dark
they laugh because they know
the meaning of your silent glance
they laugh because they know your fears
they laugh because they understand
the movements of your awkward dance
because they see the sorrow
in your hidden tears
listen to the walls
the walls are speaking
their voices have found
the secret hollow
of my soul
and drowns the joy that rises
from my singing heart
they speak because they hear...
the walls are laughing
their laughter has crept under my bed
and scares me in the dark
they laugh because they know
the meaning of your silent glance
they laugh because they know your fears
they laugh because they understand
the movements of your awkward dance
because they see the sorrow
in your hidden tears
listen to the walls
the walls are speaking
their voices have found
the secret hollow
of my soul
and drowns the joy that rises
from my singing heart
they speak because they hear...
616 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
20th Oct 2013 8:20am
20th Oct 2013 8:20am
THE OTHER SIDE OF TENDERNESS (My AIDS Diary) THREE: Is It For Heaven That We Reach?
Our hands are bleeding
with what we have touched
mouths parched with fires tasted
not all the wine that we have wasted
can quench our thirst
we are shackled to this hunger
that will not let us burst
from these nailed but naked coffins
These are crosses we have carried
crude crosses made with our own hands
Your hands nailed me to this cross!
Is it for heaven that we reach
our arms stretched out to fly
our eyes burnt far too dry
to cry?
Carlton’s Diary
Saturday, 12th January 1991
I went with Adrian to see...
with what we have touched
mouths parched with fires tasted
not all the wine that we have wasted
can quench our thirst
we are shackled to this hunger
that will not let us burst
from these nailed but naked coffins
These are crosses we have carried
crude crosses made with our own hands
Your hands nailed me to this cross!
Is it for heaven that we reach
our arms stretched out to fly
our eyes burnt far too dry
to cry?
Carlton’s Diary
Saturday, 12th January 1991
I went with Adrian to see...
875 reads
8 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
19th Oct 2013 11:27pm
19th Oct 2013 11:27pm
DELILAH
Her mother told her
she’d be the perfect wife
because they’d named
her Mary
and she was born
to nurture and to serve
her man
Her mother hid her tears
when she said this
fearful of Mary’s father
coming home at night
setting his little girl
upon his knee
putting her to bed
on his own
while she fretted
alone in the kitchen
When Mary played house
she set her baby doll
in the bed with her daddy doll
and mommy doll in the kitchen
alone with the gin and tonic
and the TV turned up loud
tuned to...
she’d be the perfect wife
because they’d named
her Mary
and she was born
to nurture and to serve
her man
Her mother hid her tears
when she said this
fearful of Mary’s father
coming home at night
setting his little girl
upon his knee
putting her to bed
on his own
while she fretted
alone in the kitchen
When Mary played house
she set her baby doll
in the bed with her daddy doll
and mommy doll in the kitchen
alone with the gin and tonic
and the TV turned up loud
tuned to...
691 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by oTHER_vOICES
