Submissions by rnabokov
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
to be undone, loose threads pulled, then the weaving of new cloth, skin to shape the falling apart of bones and my first stuffed toy was called Trotsky
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Nov 2013 9:18am
9th Nov 2013 9:18am
Dolente
Dolente
(for my father 1914 - 2008)
body broken like a stick in the cruel fists of pain and fear
only hope remains
O angels feed me,
no-one needs me,
not even me.
body broken like a stick
only fear remains
in cruel fists of pain.
hope.
there is no hope,
only a body broken in the fist of hope,
for things that have been and gone
to be,
again,
choirs of colour
rainbows of song.
in the cruel of pain and fear
body broken like a stick
in the hands of angels,...
(for my father 1914 - 2008)
body broken like a stick in the cruel fists of pain and fear
only hope remains
O angels feed me,
no-one needs me,
not even me.
body broken like a stick
only fear remains
in cruel fists of pain.
hope.
there is no hope,
only a body broken in the fist of hope,
for things that have been and gone
to be,
again,
choirs of colour
rainbows of song.
in the cruel of pain and fear
body broken like a stick
in the hands of angels,...
601 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
8th Mar 2013 7:40am
8th Mar 2013 7:40am
between here and there there is nowhere
between here & there is nowhere
It’s cold.
an icy wind bites my face with sharp blue teeth.
late. I’m late.
I’m always late, though I haven’t a clue for what.
Hungry and looking for food I walk quickly.
Now and then, I jog, until I remember that jogging kills. Whoa!
Suddenly, I hear music seeping through cracks in a wall of stone,
flute and harp,
wistful Japanese melodies diffuse into the night air like perfume,
a halo of rainbows around streelights,
the roads are like mirrors, reflecting everything, Chacgall in fire...
It’s cold.
an icy wind bites my face with sharp blue teeth.
late. I’m late.
I’m always late, though I haven’t a clue for what.
Hungry and looking for food I walk quickly.
Now and then, I jog, until I remember that jogging kills. Whoa!
Suddenly, I hear music seeping through cracks in a wall of stone,
flute and harp,
wistful Japanese melodies diffuse into the night air like perfume,
a halo of rainbows around streelights,
the roads are like mirrors, reflecting everything, Chacgall in fire...
680 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
8th Mar 2013 7:33am
8th Mar 2013 7:33am
possessed
from amongst the rock and bone of desolation,
dark garden where thoughts turn to stone,
she comes to me,
through the cracks and crevices of night,
in the broken glass of moonlight,
she comes to me,
Now!
Oh how I want her!
the burning in my nerves,
like a needle in my vein
she writhes in me,
don’t stop!
don’t go,
I am possessed.
At the the altar of my body
she wields desire as a knife,
the sharpest blades,
her fingers, mouth her cunt,
she tears and shapes my flesh,
tattoos my skin...
dark garden where thoughts turn to stone,
she comes to me,
through the cracks and crevices of night,
in the broken glass of moonlight,
she comes to me,
Now!
Oh how I want her!
the burning in my nerves,
like a needle in my vein
she writhes in me,
don’t stop!
don’t go,
I am possessed.
At the the altar of my body
she wields desire as a knife,
the sharpest blades,
her fingers, mouth her cunt,
she tears and shapes my flesh,
tattoos my skin...
574 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
3rd Mar 2013 4:40am
3rd Mar 2013 4:40am
down by sky
today,
even blue skies hold loathing.
then, like a nightmare,
black storm clouds bruise the horizon,
edge closer like dread.
after the emptiness wakes me,
I get up with a headful of shit.
outside,
the wind flails the skin from daylight,
buries the corpse in a shroud of leaves and rain.
For a moment before the thunder,
I glimpse the red lipped mouth of heaven and,
lost in its kiss,
I taste despair.
beyond comprehension,
remorse.
How I mourn you,
my sweetest love
even blue skies hold loathing.
then, like a nightmare,
black storm clouds bruise the horizon,
edge closer like dread.
after the emptiness wakes me,
I get up with a headful of shit.
outside,
the wind flails the skin from daylight,
buries the corpse in a shroud of leaves and rain.
For a moment before the thunder,
I glimpse the red lipped mouth of heaven and,
lost in its kiss,
I taste despair.
beyond comprehension,
remorse.
How I mourn you,
my sweetest love
781 reads
7 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
3rd Mar 2013 4:28am
3rd Mar 2013 4:28am
up against the wall of withdrawl - incident @ bray’s beach
The sand is hot.
On my radio, a love song –
Who gives a fuck about soft, vulnerable people,
yeah, yeah, yeah.
I don’t. I’m giving up smoking.
47 minutes without a cigarette. But who’s counting?
I am.
Low tide. The water looks cold. I’m not going in. Fuck that.
Lying flat on my back, on my towel, naked under a tree. I am alone and chasing a tan.
The flies are bad, could be something dead nearby. Invisible cigarettes litter the backyard of my imagination, clutter my clawing solitude.
It's getting harder to move.
48...
On my radio, a love song –
Who gives a fuck about soft, vulnerable people,
yeah, yeah, yeah.
I don’t. I’m giving up smoking.
47 minutes without a cigarette. But who’s counting?
I am.
Low tide. The water looks cold. I’m not going in. Fuck that.
Lying flat on my back, on my towel, naked under a tree. I am alone and chasing a tan.
The flies are bad, could be something dead nearby. Invisible cigarettes litter the backyard of my imagination, clutter my clawing solitude.
It's getting harder to move.
48...
#AnneSexton
794 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Dec 2012 1:32pm
9th Dec 2012 1:32pm
untitled
the night the moon first threw a shadow across my heart
I shook my fist at god,
amongst the flint and stone of my world,
can’t find your arms.
margaret in the night sky so very far away,
further tomorrow,
on the cross of yet another day,
no end to the embers of your memory,
the burning.
I shook my fist at god,
amongst the flint and stone of my world,
can’t find your arms.
margaret in the night sky so very far away,
further tomorrow,
on the cross of yet another day,
no end to the embers of your memory,
the burning.
641 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
9th Dec 2012 1:27pm
9th Dec 2012 1:27pm
moebius
touch me,
tear out my heart
feels good,
feels bad,
fuck me,
hurt me
love songs,
dead voices,
lush melodies ripped
from the throat of
bliss,
strip me of sentiment,
lacquer me with feeling,
on the inside, void
outside excess
sex,
love
addiction
machine,
illusion
when smiles escapes my heart like a sigh.
tear out my heart
feels good,
feels bad,
fuck me,
hurt me
love songs,
dead voices,
lush melodies ripped
from the throat of
bliss,
strip me of sentiment,
lacquer me with feeling,
on the inside, void
outside excess
sex,
love
addiction
machine,
illusion
when smiles escapes my heart like a sigh.
700 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by rnabokov
