Submissions by puckit (S.A. Elrod)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
"Once more unto the breach, dear friends."
LOVE POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2010 4:20pm
23rd Nov 2010 4:20pm
The Fairer Sex
Brown hair, black hair, blonde hair or red
Endless desire for each in my bed
The curve of a hip, smooth brown thighs
Brown or green or deep blue eyes
Bright and bubbly, tall and thin
Quiet and timid, petite and slim
Sexy, vivacious, cunning and sly
Modest and blushing and painfully shy
Aggressive and confident and oh-so-sure
Discreet and productive and appealingly pure
It fills me with longing, it makes me so sad
I’ll never give up what I’ve never had
Endless desire for each in my bed
The curve of a hip, smooth brown thighs
Brown or green or deep blue eyes
Bright and bubbly, tall and thin
Quiet and timid, petite and slim
Sexy, vivacious, cunning and sly
Modest and blushing and painfully shy
Aggressive and confident and oh-so-sure
Discreet and productive and appealingly pure
It fills me with longing, it makes me so sad
I’ll never give up what I’ve never had
1063 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2010 3:50am
23rd Nov 2010 3:50am
Lido Shuffle
Limp libido
Lido shuffle
Begins a scuffle
Between you and I
To make me cry
A thousand words
That are never heard
By deafening ears
The traveling tears
Run down my face
I lose the race
With my desires
Extinguish the fires
Of love I’ve borne
And now I’m torn
Between hearts content
And lovers bent
On self destruct
I think we’re fucked
And never kissed
I think we missed
The boat this time
And now we find
That we don’t talk
That when we walk
The silence rules
We’re played for fools ...
Lido shuffle
Begins a scuffle
Between you and I
To make me cry
A thousand words
That are never heard
By deafening ears
The traveling tears
Run down my face
I lose the race
With my desires
Extinguish the fires
Of love I’ve borne
And now I’m torn
Between hearts content
And lovers bent
On self destruct
I think we’re fucked
And never kissed
I think we missed
The boat this time
And now we find
That we don’t talk
That when we walk
The silence rules
We’re played for fools ...
878 reads
1 Comment
ANGER POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2010 3:43am
23rd Nov 2010 3:43am
Little Nicaraguan
On a dusty road
She lies in the heat
With her tiny heart
Struggling vainly to beat
Her father kneels over her
In his hand is a knife
Probing for the bullet
That has shattered her life
In this war-torn country
Where it’s kill or be killed
The void of oppression
Will never be filled
Why this has happened
You could never explain
To this four year old girl
With eyes full of pain
Her mother stands helpless
With tears in her eyes
As her little Nicaraguan
Quietly dies
Innocent victims
Of...
She lies in the heat
With her tiny heart
Struggling vainly to beat
Her father kneels over her
In his hand is a knife
Probing for the bullet
That has shattered her life
In this war-torn country
Where it’s kill or be killed
The void of oppression
Will never be filled
Why this has happened
You could never explain
To this four year old girl
With eyes full of pain
Her mother stands helpless
With tears in her eyes
As her little Nicaraguan
Quietly dies
Innocent victims
Of...
#oppression
#war
1349 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
20th Nov 2010 10:51pm
20th Nov 2010 10:51pm
Suicide Note Ch. 2
I'm addicted to sadness. That's what I've been told by various people throughout my life, professional and non-professional alike. There is a lot of truth to that I suppose, as much as I hate to admit it. I've always wondered why I don't quite work, why I never seem to feel right, why I always feel at least a little off kilter. I once heard a comedian that would tell this story: "You know that feeling, when you're leaning back in a chair, just balancing there, and then you tilt too far back, and you almost fall but then you don't? I feel like that all the time!" I do feel like that...
1074 reads
4 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
20th Nov 2010 10:47pm
20th Nov 2010 10:47pm
Deprivation - Henry
Henry always hated his name. He thought it sounded goofy and weak. His mother must have been prescient, because before he was born she knew his name would be Henry. And sure enough, he looked like a Henry. As he matured he looked more and more goofy. And timid. And weak.
Henry wasn’t an unattractive man. It was more like he was transparent, a wraith, almost like he wasn’t there. When people did notice Henry, it was with a sense of pity. Henrys face was just a little too big for his head, and his brow was just a little too pronounced, with thick black eyebrows that he never trimmed....
Henry wasn’t an unattractive man. It was more like he was transparent, a wraith, almost like he wasn’t there. When people did notice Henry, it was with a sense of pity. Henrys face was just a little too big for his head, and his brow was just a little too pronounced, with thick black eyebrows that he never trimmed....
947 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
13th Nov 2010 9:02pm
13th Nov 2010 9:02pm
Notes To My Children
Notes To My Children: Things I Want Them To Know. Dedicated to Sharon Paulina and Alan Gabriel: mi alma, mi cielo y mi luna.
Introduction
I grew up knowing very little about my father, his beliefs, his likes and dislikes, and his life. I had scatterings of information firsthand, as well as a few stories that were filtered through the perceptions and biases of my mother, her family and friends, as well as my own limited perceptions and recollections from childhood. As I reached adulthood and battled my own demons as I strove to make a life worth living, I made up a lot of...
Introduction
I grew up knowing very little about my father, his beliefs, his likes and dislikes, and his life. I had scatterings of information firsthand, as well as a few stories that were filtered through the perceptions and biases of my mother, her family and friends, as well as my own limited perceptions and recollections from childhood. As I reached adulthood and battled my own demons as I strove to make a life worth living, I made up a lot of...
1013 reads
1 Comment
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
13th Nov 2010 8:49pm
13th Nov 2010 8:49pm
Deprivation - Carra
Carra
“Fuck it,” Carra said to the surrounding darkness, “time to go.” She looked around one last time and everything was the same as it had been ten seconds before. On both sides of the fence all she could see was darkness except for the dim blue glow of the lights from the computer control panel in the one existing guard tower. The tower was more a token gesture than anything else. Carra knew that for a fact because she had been in it more than a few times in her two months at the “camp”, primarily for clandestine meetings with various guards. Although the inside of Depriver...
“Fuck it,” Carra said to the surrounding darkness, “time to go.” She looked around one last time and everything was the same as it had been ten seconds before. On both sides of the fence all she could see was darkness except for the dim blue glow of the lights from the computer control panel in the one existing guard tower. The tower was more a token gesture than anything else. Carra knew that for a fact because she had been in it more than a few times in her two months at the “camp”, primarily for clandestine meetings with various guards. Although the inside of Depriver...
951 reads
1 Comment
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
4th Nov 2010 2:07am
4th Nov 2010 2:07am
Deprivation
Chapter 1: Reverb
The way I found out that I was one of them, one of the Deprivers was kind of funny. Not funny ha-ha, but funny strange. And bizarre. And violent. Very fucking violent. It wasn’t intentionally violent, it was more a spur of the moment, instant reaction to a stressful situation. I had no idea it would turn out the way it did, nor did I know that it would set in motion a chain of events that would ultimately land me here, in the North Carolina State Penitentiary – Depriver Section, or as we lovingly refer to it: the Cackalackee State Hole.All I wanted was a new car,...
The way I found out that I was one of them, one of the Deprivers was kind of funny. Not funny ha-ha, but funny strange. And bizarre. And violent. Very fucking violent. It wasn’t intentionally violent, it was more a spur of the moment, instant reaction to a stressful situation. I had no idea it would turn out the way it did, nor did I know that it would set in motion a chain of events that would ultimately land me here, in the North Carolina State Penitentiary – Depriver Section, or as we lovingly refer to it: the Cackalackee State Hole.All I wanted was a new car,...
949 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
2nd Nov 2010 3:02pm
2nd Nov 2010 3:02pm
Suicide Note Ch. 1
Chapter One
I started writing my suicide note when I was fifteen. I didn’t really know it then, but that’s what I was writing. It took me twenty-two years to finish it, assuming that I’m lucky enough to finish it by my next birthday, or unlucky enough. I guess it all depends on your perspective. Right now, I think it’s lucky. Stick around, though. Five minutes from now I might feel differently. That’s pretty much how I’ve always been. Not knowing how I’ll feel from one minute to the next. Please forgive the inconsistencies. Be a little tolerant. This is my last story, for crying out...
I started writing my suicide note when I was fifteen. I didn’t really know it then, but that’s what I was writing. It took me twenty-two years to finish it, assuming that I’m lucky enough to finish it by my next birthday, or unlucky enough. I guess it all depends on your perspective. Right now, I think it’s lucky. Stick around, though. Five minutes from now I might feel differently. That’s pretty much how I’ve always been. Not knowing how I’ll feel from one minute to the next. Please forgive the inconsistencies. Be a little tolerant. This is my last story, for crying out...
1547 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2010 2:44pm
2nd Nov 2010 2:44pm
My release
From your first waking moment in the early morning hours to the last thoughts that pass through your mind at night, it is there, clawing at your spirit with razor-sharp talons, gouging out chunks of your being with every sweep, or merely raking your flesh, filling your body with an unquenchable desire.t all begins as a pinhead sized spot in the center of your heart, working its way out like venom from a vipers fangs, numbing your whole body into a wall of emotional ice, leaving only desperate feelings of longing and despair: Loneliness, the master of my private dungeonBut through it all,...
1036 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2010 1:18am
2nd Nov 2010 1:18am
Breathless
Black lines on brick front.
Necessity pinioning me to this place of stone and steel.
I live and breathe, yet I am breathless.
Mindless;
Organized in my disarray.
Surefooted in my solemnity.
She breathes, a pace away in distance yet a world away in mind.
Common ground disappearing as the miles unfold along the path of our journey.
Wanting more but needing less.
Wings fluttering against the glass ceiling of disillusion.
Yearning for a glimpse of understanding.
The developing chasm shifting the earth under our feet
as we clutch at the...
Necessity pinioning me to this place of stone and steel.
I live and breathe, yet I am breathless.
Mindless;
Organized in my disarray.
Surefooted in my solemnity.
She breathes, a pace away in distance yet a world away in mind.
Common ground disappearing as the miles unfold along the path of our journey.
Wanting more but needing less.
Wings fluttering against the glass ceiling of disillusion.
Yearning for a glimpse of understanding.
The developing chasm shifting the earth under our feet
as we clutch at the...
1100 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by puckit (S.A. Elrod)
