Submissions by ricecake
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Nov 2012 9:18pm
19th Nov 2012 9:18pm
Journey through America with reference to American poetry
Journey through America with reference to American poetry
To Miami, I am bound
Bahamas & St Thomas,
San Juan too
Onto Grand Turk and
sail onwards to grand view
On a train LA
San Fran
Diego
South, I am traveling past Cambria and pine trees
Moro Bay and
wine to please,
Historic San Luis Obispo
Curved bay Santa Barbara,
Ventura, then
LA
A little of my
trip to
San Francisco, I go
across the bridge
Golden Gate
and Monterrey divine,
I taste the Napa
and sample wine...
To Miami, I am bound
Bahamas & St Thomas,
San Juan too
Onto Grand Turk and
sail onwards to grand view
On a train LA
San Fran
Diego
South, I am traveling past Cambria and pine trees
Moro Bay and
wine to please,
Historic San Luis Obispo
Curved bay Santa Barbara,
Ventura, then
LA
A little of my
trip to
San Francisco, I go
across the bridge
Golden Gate
and Monterrey divine,
I taste the Napa
and sample wine...
588 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
11th Nov 2012 9:52pm
11th Nov 2012 9:52pm
The bastard
The bastard wears a grotty grin
Walks in shuffle across the floor
Knows nothing of the shadows' sin
A ghost or ghoul behind winds' door
White and craggy are his lines
Pointy nose upon sunken face
As evil sits on poisoned crimes
To hells' domain in dusty lace
Why, a feline sits upon me lap
Soothing out the woken wishes
Before he brings his brand of crap
For evils' fate deserved and vicious
Sigh life,
from where does hail the western witch
Whom destiny brings
on white lips' death,
A wolf now scarred by ...
Walks in shuffle across the floor
Knows nothing of the shadows' sin
A ghost or ghoul behind winds' door
White and craggy are his lines
Pointy nose upon sunken face
As evil sits on poisoned crimes
To hells' domain in dusty lace
Why, a feline sits upon me lap
Soothing out the woken wishes
Before he brings his brand of crap
For evils' fate deserved and vicious
Sigh life,
from where does hail the western witch
Whom destiny brings
on white lips' death,
A wolf now scarred by ...
588 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th Nov 2012 9:21pm
11th Nov 2012 9:21pm
Hookers are lookers
612 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
11th Nov 2012 9:51am
11th Nov 2012 9:51am
Cold stone floor
A knife has cut me
So damn hard,
Ripped into my soul
That I lie upon the
Cold stone floor
Asking
Where is God?
So damn hard,
Ripped into my soul
That I lie upon the
Cold stone floor
Asking
Where is God?
620 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
11th Nov 2012 5:52am
11th Nov 2012 5:52am
There is no use for the moon
There is no use for the moon ~
There is no use for the moon
Upon its cradle it rests
Like a silver arched spoon
As the lunar gods do fest
There is no use for the moon
It cries as babies weep
An all familiar tune
As the river that twists and seep
Oh Lord, creator of all
From Gethsemmane to Tibet
The moon does speak and call
For one whom time forgets
There is no use for the moon
It hangs by night and day
And it shall be distant soon
For it has always been this way
There is no use for the moon
Upon its cradle it rests
Like a silver arched spoon
As the lunar gods do fest
There is no use for the moon
It cries as babies weep
An all familiar tune
As the river that twists and seep
Oh Lord, creator of all
From Gethsemmane to Tibet
The moon does speak and call
For one whom time forgets
There is no use for the moon
It hangs by night and day
And it shall be distant soon
For it has always been this way
613 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
6th Nov 2012 11:50am
6th Nov 2012 11:50am
Blue moon
Blue moon choking
Squeezing in humanity
Swallowing and stroking
Bringing in insanity
Fires blaze across
Across the metal skies
Children buried then lost
By bullet wasted sighs
Blue moon choking
Squeezing in humanity
Swallowing and stroking
Bringing in insanity
Squeezing in humanity
Swallowing and stroking
Bringing in insanity
Fires blaze across
Across the metal skies
Children buried then lost
By bullet wasted sighs
Blue moon choking
Squeezing in humanity
Swallowing and stroking
Bringing in insanity
597 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th Oct 2012 11:06am
14th Oct 2012 11:06am
Why will a poet die
Help me, I plead
My poems I have
written
Are lonely and desolate
They are disconnected from humanity
Like corpses they await salvation
They will die without your annunciation
It's true
I cannot lie about my poems
Poems that sit on the station
If you've ever sat on the station
Wondering where you belong
I wonder why,
I know each poem
needs a home
In your heart
or a sigh
Otherwise a poet may die
Why
Will
A
Poet
Die?
Why...
My poems I have
written
Are lonely and desolate
They are disconnected from humanity
Like corpses they await salvation
They will die without your annunciation
It's true
I cannot lie about my poems
Poems that sit on the station
If you've ever sat on the station
Wondering where you belong
I wonder why,
I know each poem
needs a home
In your heart
or a sigh
Otherwise a poet may die
Why
Will
A
Poet
Die?
Why...
694 reads
6 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
14th Oct 2012 11:02am
14th Oct 2012 11:02am
Upon a broken hill
Is it not
Not upon a broken hill
A broken hill
Is it not still
Where water does not lift
From wells,
And whistling bells from churches
These do not ring
Is it not
Not upon a broken hill
From where the crash
The wagon wheel did fell
Whence the driver stroke the
Horses heel
And balance more oft' tilt
Is it not
Not upon a broken hill
Change not
Charge what the driver will
Talk in whispers
And then mount horses still
And ride upon
Upon a broken hill
Not upon a broken hill
A broken hill
Is it not still
Where water does not lift
From wells,
And whistling bells from churches
These do not ring
Is it not
Not upon a broken hill
From where the crash
The wagon wheel did fell
Whence the driver stroke the
Horses heel
And balance more oft' tilt
Is it not
Not upon a broken hill
Change not
Charge what the driver will
Talk in whispers
And then mount horses still
And ride upon
Upon a broken hill
605 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Oct 2012 9:43pm
10th Oct 2012 9:43pm
Bipolar baby
The see-saw
goes Up
and
D
O
W
N
One day weed
and the next,
5 scotch at least.
I told him that he's my bipolar baby
And soon we are having our own child,
MAYBE,
If he stops being so damn wild!
So I'm in bed by 9pm,
Thats just me,
And he's in bed by 12
Or 1 or even THREE,
I can smell the cannabis STINK
He's watching the football,
I think?
Rock - a - bipolar
Baby is high
Mother sits near,
in her rocking chair, sigh
Forward and back,
the cradle he swings
And...
goes Up
and
D
O
W
N
One day weed
and the next,
5 scotch at least.
I told him that he's my bipolar baby
And soon we are having our own child,
MAYBE,
If he stops being so damn wild!
So I'm in bed by 9pm,
Thats just me,
And he's in bed by 12
Or 1 or even THREE,
I can smell the cannabis STINK
He's watching the football,
I think?
Rock - a - bipolar
Baby is high
Mother sits near,
in her rocking chair, sigh
Forward and back,
the cradle he swings
And...
668 reads
3 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
9th Oct 2012 11:14pm
9th Oct 2012 11:14pm
The Mountain
On the mountains nothing changes
It's been like this throughout the ages
Dew drops from the sky above
I walk through places of great love
The mountain statues stand forever
Through the wild and woolly weather
I pick the beauty of the flower
I walk and breathe in Gods' great power
The mountain still and waiting
I admire her and Gods' creation
Rain and wind give way to light
Sun and birds of Gods' fair might
The sweetest birds upon the mountain
I'm proud to see and hear the fountain
Of God I ask to protect the child ...
It's been like this throughout the ages
Dew drops from the sky above
I walk through places of great love
The mountain statues stand forever
Through the wild and woolly weather
I pick the beauty of the flower
I walk and breathe in Gods' great power
The mountain still and waiting
I admire her and Gods' creation
Rain and wind give way to light
Sun and birds of Gods' fair might
The sweetest birds upon the mountain
I'm proud to see and hear the fountain
Of God I ask to protect the child ...
805 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Oct 2012 10:10pm
9th Oct 2012 10:10pm
White Horse - from Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba westward to the Rocky Mountains
Where the horses go no one will know for the little children that ride across these open lands,
savage as they are, white pony will bring me home. God I know thee, I ride across these prairies from Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba westward to the Rocky Mountains.
Wild ride across Big Bluestem grass my daddy called Turkey Feet that we selfishlessly pulled out and got us a dust bowl. We are still learning our lesson. That was the 1930s and now I'm still riding across the prairie, white horse leading the way. Sometimes I stop and eat my cowboy lunch and sleep after, this place...
savage as they are, white pony will bring me home. God I know thee, I ride across these prairies from Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba westward to the Rocky Mountains.
Wild ride across Big Bluestem grass my daddy called Turkey Feet that we selfishlessly pulled out and got us a dust bowl. We are still learning our lesson. That was the 1930s and now I'm still riding across the prairie, white horse leading the way. Sometimes I stop and eat my cowboy lunch and sleep after, this place...
650 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ricecake
