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."
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
19th Oct 2013 11:16pm
19th Oct 2013 11:16pm
THE OTHER SIDE OF TENDERNESS (My AIDS Diary) TWO: Life is a Death Defying Stunt
Life is a death defying stunt
Yesterday shot from a cannon
today shot full of drugs
and tomorrow the thrown knives
may miss
I am a spinning target
for God knows what
my life as meaningless
as an empty circus plot
That night Carlton sensed the presence of The Angel. He woke and saw him at the foot of his bed. He was standing very still; stately. Carlton whispered to him in the darkness, “Why are you here?” His voice came, not with the sound of trumpets but as an ordinary man’s voice, “I'm waiting.” “What for,” Carlton asked. “For...
Yesterday shot from a cannon
today shot full of drugs
and tomorrow the thrown knives
may miss
I am a spinning target
for God knows what
my life as meaningless
as an empty circus plot
That night Carlton sensed the presence of The Angel. He woke and saw him at the foot of his bed. He was standing very still; stately. Carlton whispered to him in the darkness, “Why are you here?” His voice came, not with the sound of trumpets but as an ordinary man’s voice, “I'm waiting.” “What for,” Carlton asked. “For...
741 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
19th Oct 2013 1:07pm
19th Oct 2013 1:07pm
POETRY IN BLUE
POETRY IN BLUE
I wonder could I write it
the way I used to do
could I counterfeit old feelings
and memories of you?
See there I go a’rhyming
and the rhythms gone all wrong
it sounds like sentimental crap
from good old Patience Strong
Well, I wonder could I write it
if I really needed to
could I dredge up half forgotten dreams
and poetry in blue?
(Collage Detail: Blue by Carlton)
© Carlton Carr
http://othervoices.blog.co.uk
I wonder could I write it
the way I used to do
could I counterfeit old feelings
and memories of you?
See there I go a’rhyming
and the rhythms gone all wrong
it sounds like sentimental crap
from good old Patience Strong
Well, I wonder could I write it
if I really needed to
could I dredge up half forgotten dreams
and poetry in blue?
(Collage Detail: Blue by Carlton)
© Carlton Carr
http://othervoices.blog.co.uk
598 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
19th Oct 2013 3:40am
19th Oct 2013 3:40am
MY DEMON LOVER
I was seventeen
when first I saw The Stranger
a shadowy figure in a dream
a dark and dangerous enslaver
I strained to see him clearly
but his features were obscured
by a mist that became entangled
in the moon’s dim light
in the self-conscious dancing of the night
I’ve seen him in the flesh since then
on beaches and in parks
in parked cars and darkened bars
and in my dreams he still appears
and from his eyes spring shooting stars
that drown among the tattoos on his arms
and from his mouth snakes slither
and hiss and kiss my...
when first I saw The Stranger
a shadowy figure in a dream
a dark and dangerous enslaver
I strained to see him clearly
but his features were obscured
by a mist that became entangled
in the moon’s dim light
in the self-conscious dancing of the night
I’ve seen him in the flesh since then
on beaches and in parks
in parked cars and darkened bars
and in my dreams he still appears
and from his eyes spring shooting stars
that drown among the tattoos on his arms
and from his mouth snakes slither
and hiss and kiss my...
723 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
19th Oct 2013 3:26am
19th Oct 2013 3:26am
THE OTHER SIDE OF TENDERNESS (My AIDS Diary) ONE: The Other Side of Tenderness
The other side of tenderness
is raw lust
from dust to dust
we crawl
and whore our souls
for love
We call the odds
and sometimes fall
but when the glance is right
we dance our dance on wings
and clutch at flesh
all night
Life stings
and pays us back
upon the rack of love
we writhe
but only the fearless can survive
the other side of tenderness
On the last night of 1990, Cathy and Carlton went to bed early and were woken from their dreams by exploding fireworks at midnight. They lay in their separate...
is raw lust
from dust to dust
we crawl
and whore our souls
for love
We call the odds
and sometimes fall
but when the glance is right
we dance our dance on wings
and clutch at flesh
all night
Life stings
and pays us back
upon the rack of love
we writhe
but only the fearless can survive
the other side of tenderness
On the last night of 1990, Cathy and Carlton went to bed early and were woken from their dreams by exploding fireworks at midnight. They lay in their separate...
730 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
18th Oct 2013 10:21am
18th Oct 2013 10:21am
GAMES THAT DADDY TAUGHT ME
little colin stutters
and stares at his palms
covered with cigarette burns
and turns them over
so that others
cannot see
he hides the scars
that blot his chest
from stockings
he’d filled with ice
while his father
smoked toyed
tinkled his ice filled whisky
and stroked his greying beard
and his bloated gut
and shouted
‘what the hell is taking you
so long boy’
little colin
knelt in the nude
on a carpet of salt
that burnt his knees
and made marks
that he explained
came from a fall...
and stares at his palms
covered with cigarette burns
and turns them over
so that others
cannot see
he hides the scars
that blot his chest
from stockings
he’d filled with ice
while his father
smoked toyed
tinkled his ice filled whisky
and stroked his greying beard
and his bloated gut
and shouted
‘what the hell is taking you
so long boy’
little colin
knelt in the nude
on a carpet of salt
that burnt his knees
and made marks
that he explained
came from a fall...
604 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
18th Oct 2013 9:39am
18th Oct 2013 9:39am
IF GOD WILLS
The muezzin is making his warbling plea, calling the faithful to prayer, as Saleem hikes up his white djellaba and flips it over his head. The strange, eastern dissonance of this song seems to be coming from some extinct lost creature, howling at the moon in the morning sun. I imagine fangs and talons and a forked tail twitching in its primordial night. The sound is sacrilegiously seductive to my western ear. Fear of falling, fear of flying, fear of being claustrophobically clothed in armour, fear of raw nakedness, is all the same to me in that instant.
Standing there in freeze...
Standing there in freeze...
736 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
17th Oct 2013 11:49pm
17th Oct 2013 11:49pm
BUGGERED ANGEL (Power and Submission) One: Passion Play
993 reads
0 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
17th Oct 2013 10:41pm
17th Oct 2013 10:41pm
BAREBACK
he fucks
like a scorpion
there is a sting
in his tail
a tale of abuse
on the silver tongue
that licks me
unprotected
i am at the mercy
of his history
and the odds
are not great
there is death
in his eyes
as he slides about
me
i shed my skin
and he wraps
my bloody
nakedness
within himself
is it love
is it hate
his secret mission
(he tells me nothing)
is it grateful
the screaming
of pain and submission
(still he tells me nothing)
perhaps...
like a scorpion
there is a sting
in his tail
a tale of abuse
on the silver tongue
that licks me
unprotected
i am at the mercy
of his history
and the odds
are not great
there is death
in his eyes
as he slides about
me
i shed my skin
and he wraps
my bloody
nakedness
within himself
is it love
is it hate
his secret mission
(he tells me nothing)
is it grateful
the screaming
of pain and submission
(still he tells me nothing)
perhaps...
1005 reads
6 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
17th Oct 2013 10:18am
17th Oct 2013 10:18am
Other Voices
Carlton was very young when he began to hear the other voices. They seemed to come from the house itself; oozing from the walls; dripping from the ceiling; coalescing in sticky puddles under his bed; whispering, laughing, singing, screaming.
Instinctively Carlton knew that if he told anyone about the voices they would think him unstable, delusional; mad. And so he kept silent about them and they wormed their way into his head and curled up like sleeping snakes in the dark and damp recesses of his unconscious mind.
Sometimes they came from nowhere, sometimes from the lyrics...
Instinctively Carlton knew that if he told anyone about the voices they would think him unstable, delusional; mad. And so he kept silent about them and they wormed their way into his head and curled up like sleeping snakes in the dark and damp recesses of his unconscious mind.
Sometimes they came from nowhere, sometimes from the lyrics...
824 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
17th Oct 2013 9:16am
17th Oct 2013 9:16am
HIDDEN FACE OF TRUTH (Original Sin)
seductive fruit
of the poisoned tree
i bite into you
you bleed for
my disease
you said
true intimacy requires trust
then thrust
the hot truth
of your innocence
into me
with unfamiliar ease
carved another
hole
into my heart
stole another breath
adam daemon god
father & death
within
the sly confession
of your lips
without
sweet juice of you
is bitter now
your heat
forbidden
lies within
the eternal green
of the virgin grass
...
of the poisoned tree
i bite into you
you bleed for
my disease
you said
true intimacy requires trust
then thrust
the hot truth
of your innocence
into me
with unfamiliar ease
carved another
hole
into my heart
stole another breath
adam daemon god
father & death
within
the sly confession
of your lips
without
sweet juice of you
is bitter now
your heat
forbidden
lies within
the eternal green
of the virgin grass
...
734 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by oTHER_vOICES
