Submissions by ovariancyst
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I vomit up words and sometimes they form patterns like discarded tea leaves.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
2nd Dec 2011 5:15pm
2nd Dec 2011 5:15pm
Winterborn
streets covered in winter, frozen missteps treading to every shadow,
the dark has it's own splendor, to hide crying eyes
and dilute a loving gaze to simple streaks of faded highlights
too thick for the tight irises of those absently passing by
begging that their every step bring back a small sample of heat to a world which has lost their appreciation....
glamor is just the mask layed out in smears on the insecure flesh which shivers
and cracks in the forbidden occurrence of being exposed to air....
doubt plants it's sour seeds in every hope and dream ...
the dark has it's own splendor, to hide crying eyes
and dilute a loving gaze to simple streaks of faded highlights
too thick for the tight irises of those absently passing by
begging that their every step bring back a small sample of heat to a world which has lost their appreciation....
glamor is just the mask layed out in smears on the insecure flesh which shivers
and cracks in the forbidden occurrence of being exposed to air....
doubt plants it's sour seeds in every hope and dream ...
571 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Dec 2011 5:43pm
1st Dec 2011 5:43pm
Undone
something breaks, the shards form new limbs,
new bodies for new sins-
a twist of the tongue, the kiss is undone
and the life of our breath begins-
new bodies for new sins-
a twist of the tongue, the kiss is undone
and the life of our breath begins-
645 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
1st Dec 2011 5:41pm
1st Dec 2011 5:41pm
Slavery
we've been moved by the context of liberty and
atrophied by the subtext of slavery,
reformation is a backslide into an older system of conformity
that failed in its traditional practice
revolution stalls into dogma
the rebel stagnates into a coagulated stereotype
i wanna be a statue someday
atrophied by the subtext of slavery,
reformation is a backslide into an older system of conformity
that failed in its traditional practice
revolution stalls into dogma
the rebel stagnates into a coagulated stereotype
i wanna be a statue someday
622 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
1st Dec 2011 9:40am
1st Dec 2011 9:40am
A Trace
is there a trace left of you beneath
your idle conversation? is there a pause
to this automatic drive or is it your last
mode of breath desperately gasping for
scraps of substance?
within the horizons of your timeline
did you ever stop to lay with silence
and tremble beneath its truth until
you prayed for a nightmare to free you?
have you isolated yourself within the frames
of a mirror and dissected its reflection
until you've forgotten where you end?
the lightest wind robs you of your stance,
the lightest kiss binds and blinds you....
your idle conversation? is there a pause
to this automatic drive or is it your last
mode of breath desperately gasping for
scraps of substance?
within the horizons of your timeline
did you ever stop to lay with silence
and tremble beneath its truth until
you prayed for a nightmare to free you?
have you isolated yourself within the frames
of a mirror and dissected its reflection
until you've forgotten where you end?
the lightest wind robs you of your stance,
the lightest kiss binds and blinds you....
916 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
1st Dec 2011 9:34am
1st Dec 2011 9:34am
Dis-complicate
I want to dis-complicate myself. Deconstruct an identity. A disembodied melting slide. What little cattle pairings and tiny shit in car driving nightmare dragging slags. And kitchen utensils fire burning flesh to sculpture monstronsity and blood clogging scabs. Block feeding, nurturing interrupted.
Relaxing in reflex motions and repetitive masquerades, positions posturing and potent impediments cocked and released. What fresh ripeness in a severed slab, cut and hemo-raging. Life exploding to drain and fail this down.
(Dart eyes forward. Pay attention to detail. Stay alert....
Relaxing in reflex motions and repetitive masquerades, positions posturing and potent impediments cocked and released. What fresh ripeness in a severed slab, cut and hemo-raging. Life exploding to drain and fail this down.
(Dart eyes forward. Pay attention to detail. Stay alert....
690 reads
1 Comment
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
1st Dec 2011 1:37am
1st Dec 2011 1:37am
Useful
My sister and I were the only children in the shelter. A shelter for battered women that from the outside looked just like any other home.
The night was spent surrounded by the sound of women crying, their voices all terrible and injured. Pitiful and painful. Some asking "why" or declaring that they wanted to die. Others begging to go home, as if under some imaginary arrest, or just wailing incomprehensible gibberish. None of them sounded angry. Not one steadfast word of defiance or a single bitter word. Just traumatized hysteria sobbing through the plaster.
In the...
The night was spent surrounded by the sound of women crying, their voices all terrible and injured. Pitiful and painful. Some asking "why" or declaring that they wanted to die. Others begging to go home, as if under some imaginary arrest, or just wailing incomprehensible gibberish. None of them sounded angry. Not one steadfast word of defiance or a single bitter word. Just traumatized hysteria sobbing through the plaster.
In the...
665 reads
1 Comment
EROTIC POEM
Published
30th Nov 2011 11:43pm
30th Nov 2011 11:43pm
Terraform
terraform my body and bend
the dimensions of every boundary--
i'll be the over-ripened fruit
of your desensitized boredom afternoon,
your Sunday church service fingerfuck,
a rehearsed hymn moaning like obligation,
faking I, E, O--
i want the simplicity of fire-breathing,
the safety of sword swallowing,
bare raw riding circus beast-fucking
without a climax, just the sweat cloaking me,
hiding me in filth
like camouflage.
the dimensions of every boundary--
i'll be the over-ripened fruit
of your desensitized boredom afternoon,
your Sunday church service fingerfuck,
a rehearsed hymn moaning like obligation,
faking I, E, O--
i want the simplicity of fire-breathing,
the safety of sword swallowing,
bare raw riding circus beast-fucking
without a climax, just the sweat cloaking me,
hiding me in filth
like camouflage.
814 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Nov 2011 5:29pm
30th Nov 2011 5:29pm
In Heaven
in heaven, everything is fine
in heaven
among a scoured firmament
clouds deform into shapes in glaring white,
snow blind eyes fly unhindered and naive
while the brain floats in a chemical spill
of its own design--i can't see you
but feel you in the form of a stifling pressure
against my skin, every nerve an alarm ringing,
but ignorance is at a faster pace and keeps serenity
dangerously close, prompting a blissful collapse
to a single ecstatic point, sharp and focused
a weapon against reason, no remorse for logic
or illogic, just...
in heaven
among a scoured firmament
clouds deform into shapes in glaring white,
snow blind eyes fly unhindered and naive
while the brain floats in a chemical spill
of its own design--i can't see you
but feel you in the form of a stifling pressure
against my skin, every nerve an alarm ringing,
but ignorance is at a faster pace and keeps serenity
dangerously close, prompting a blissful collapse
to a single ecstatic point, sharp and focused
a weapon against reason, no remorse for logic
or illogic, just...
549 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
30th Nov 2011 3:41pm
30th Nov 2011 3:41pm
Suicide
stripping a suicide from memories sharp
gouging wounds trenches to drain the life
of mind away--thoughts drip rapidly into
pools of doubt, refracting hope's reflection to
a redundant angle, aimless and wandering until
a finite point is reached, isolated in a devouring shadow,
a spark with nothing to ignite
gouging wounds trenches to drain the life
of mind away--thoughts drip rapidly into
pools of doubt, refracting hope's reflection to
a redundant angle, aimless and wandering until
a finite point is reached, isolated in a devouring shadow,
a spark with nothing to ignite
601 reads
1 Comment
EROTIC POEM
Published
30th Nov 2011 7:02am
30th Nov 2011 7:02am
Decree
a decree of longevity, laced fingers whispering latitude,
heights reached to juxtapose our mutual trauma expressed in kinetic conflict,
acrobatics of limbs framing ornate glyphs,
composing sublime notes in sliding flesh tones timbered to a heartbeat’s unison favored rage,
ambiance concealing the indelible shades of real, inducing transitory amnesia,
blurring stain and scar to an even unblemished blend of illusory beauty
to feed future daydreams flickering behind a musing gaze--
anointment with fevered breath and silk lip wet textures to ignite a baptism of...
heights reached to juxtapose our mutual trauma expressed in kinetic conflict,
acrobatics of limbs framing ornate glyphs,
composing sublime notes in sliding flesh tones timbered to a heartbeat’s unison favored rage,
ambiance concealing the indelible shades of real, inducing transitory amnesia,
blurring stain and scar to an even unblemished blend of illusory beauty
to feed future daydreams flickering behind a musing gaze--
anointment with fevered breath and silk lip wet textures to ignite a baptism of...
852 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Nov 2011 6:57am
30th Nov 2011 6:57am
Monster
a slut colored heart beating echoes
in a house of roaches-
tethered spine afflicted for the sake
of a trembling balance-
broken limbs scrape their path through
a congealed sweat of indifference, sinking
through its numb skin into the peaceful guts
of a fossilized monster
grinning
in a house of roaches-
tethered spine afflicted for the sake
of a trembling balance-
broken limbs scrape their path through
a congealed sweat of indifference, sinking
through its numb skin into the peaceful guts
of a fossilized monster
grinning
597 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
29th Nov 2011 8:24pm
29th Nov 2011 8:24pm
Obscene
The guts of the street--
unwise temptations scream in neon after-imagined blindness:
"Beer"
"Girls"
"Nude"
....."Get Drunk and Fuck," would be too obscene a message for the target herd
of daylight estrangements and rush hour exiles--wedding vagabonds, derelicts and romantic phobias.
(Public vulgarity is illegal. It reminds us of the vulgarity we lack, but desire, in our private lives.
Which makes us envy.
Which makes us ashamed for feeling envy.
Which makes us angry at feeling ashamed.
Public...
unwise temptations scream in neon after-imagined blindness:
"Beer"
"Girls"
"Nude"
....."Get Drunk and Fuck," would be too obscene a message for the target herd
of daylight estrangements and rush hour exiles--wedding vagabonds, derelicts and romantic phobias.
(Public vulgarity is illegal. It reminds us of the vulgarity we lack, but desire, in our private lives.
Which makes us envy.
Which makes us ashamed for feeling envy.
Which makes us angry at feeling ashamed.
Public...
838 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ovariancyst
