Submissions by rowantree
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
they/them/theirs. Polyamorous, proud, patient power. Love and joy and journals and the journey! Which IS the destination.
EROTIC POEM
Published
9th Aug 2015 4:23am
9th Aug 2015 4:23am
An Open Letter to Lust
Firecracker in my chest,
could I get a moment's rest?
Can't you just ignore his eyes,
the thought of him between my thighs,
the power in the words he speaks,
the coolness of the lips they leave,
the feel of expert teeth on skin,
his fingers where I wish they'd been -
sweat to mix and time to play -
(fingers where I wish they'd stay)
just choke the spark that crawls your fuse,
(the thought of being... being used)
hide it - make it disappear -
(want to feel him bite my ear)
drive for miles, take twenty turns,
(let him...
could I get a moment's rest?
Can't you just ignore his eyes,
the thought of him between my thighs,
the power in the words he speaks,
the coolness of the lips they leave,
the feel of expert teeth on skin,
his fingers where I wish they'd been -
sweat to mix and time to play -
(fingers where I wish they'd stay)
just choke the spark that crawls your fuse,
(the thought of being... being used)
hide it - make it disappear -
(want to feel him bite my ear)
drive for miles, take twenty turns,
(let him...
896 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Aug 2015 3:25am
9th Aug 2015 3:25am
Flat
Entry for Summertime Sadness Competition*
~
You've lost your taste.
Too much of my coffee
or too many breaths
of midnight on the sand;
I'm afraid it's true -
you've simply gone bland.
You've lost your spice.
Once it crackled
under the skin
of my face, but no more;
I'm afraid I may
be getting bored.
I want the kick
that you don't have -
to feel dead-sick,
to step in half -
I'll let you sink
(I'm fine with that)
but I just won't drink
if the love is flat.
~
Age when...
~
You've lost your taste.
Too much of my coffee
or too many breaths
of midnight on the sand;
I'm afraid it's true -
you've simply gone bland.
You've lost your spice.
Once it crackled
under the skin
of my face, but no more;
I'm afraid I may
be getting bored.
I want the kick
that you don't have -
to feel dead-sick,
to step in half -
I'll let you sink
(I'm fine with that)
but I just won't drink
if the love is flat.
~
Age when...
794 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
8th Aug 2015 3:38pm
8th Aug 2015 3:38pm
Eleanor
Of innocence, my hands were bound,
of solitude, of vice;
the rope gnawed in to shred my skin,
rubbed red with every slice.
But once upon a sparkling dawn
from dungeon deep, I heard
the sound of you, so clear and true,
speak each forgotten word.
My Eleanor, the raven black:
a woman so surreal
that things can seem to be a dream
within her gaze of steel.
She slipped between the iron bars;
a shade did cross my eyes
as Eleanor the dark ignored -
it fell and let her shine.
She held me close, she made me strong,...
of solitude, of vice;
the rope gnawed in to shred my skin,
rubbed red with every slice.
But once upon a sparkling dawn
from dungeon deep, I heard
the sound of you, so clear and true,
speak each forgotten word.
My Eleanor, the raven black:
a woman so surreal
that things can seem to be a dream
within her gaze of steel.
She slipped between the iron bars;
a shade did cross my eyes
as Eleanor the dark ignored -
it fell and let her shine.
She held me close, she made me strong,...
718 reads
1 Comment
EROTIC POEM
Published
8th Aug 2015 3:20pm
8th Aug 2015 3:20pm
I Was Left With One Boot
It happened
better than anything I expected
or imagined -
your hand
slipped
down
and I lost
my breath
and didn't
want it back;
you found it
and took it
and played with it
(and me)
like you could read
my mind,
learn every line,
and recite it in fire
with your left hand.
You took some part of me.
Keep it.
I don't want it.
I just
want
you.
~
Age when written: 16
better than anything I expected
or imagined -
your hand
slipped
down
and I lost
my breath
and didn't
want it back;
you found it
and took it
and played with it
(and me)
like you could read
my mind,
learn every line,
and recite it in fire
with your left hand.
You took some part of me.
Keep it.
I don't want it.
I just
want
you.
~
Age when written: 16
819 reads
1 Comment
EROTIC POEM
Published
8th Aug 2015 7:24am
8th Aug 2015 7:24am
Bridge May Ice in Cold Weather
(Okay -
easy)
My legs are shaking
just thinking about it.
I know what you need from
me,
and I know how
you want me
to hand it over -
against a wall
or on top of you -
really
just
however you want me...
hands up in surrender
or tied down
or up in a futile fight against
yours.
I mean it; I don't care.
I want it; I won't share.
I need it; it's right there.
So
give it.
~
Age when written: 16
easy)
My legs are shaking
just thinking about it.
I know what you need from
me,
and I know how
you want me
to hand it over -
against a wall
or on top of you -
really
just
however you want me...
hands up in surrender
or tied down
or up in a futile fight against
yours.
I mean it; I don't care.
I want it; I won't share.
I need it; it's right there.
So
give it.
~
Age when written: 16
968 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
8th Aug 2015 7:16am
8th Aug 2015 7:16am
I Am Not A Girl
I am not a girl
or a woman or a bitch -
not a daughter or a lady
or a mistress or a maybe -
I invite the saints to hate me
for my gender's inner glitch -
for the figure in my coding
with that strange hormonal coating
(thick and strong and always goading)
which arranged my mental stitch.
I am not included
(nor do I desire to be)
in the tremble or the flex -
ladies or the gentlemen -
in the suit or in the dress
that is thrown in front of me;
when made princess or a prince
my face cannot help but wince
for my female...
or a woman or a bitch -
not a daughter or a lady
or a mistress or a maybe -
I invite the saints to hate me
for my gender's inner glitch -
for the figure in my coding
with that strange hormonal coating
(thick and strong and always goading)
which arranged my mental stitch.
I am not included
(nor do I desire to be)
in the tremble or the flex -
ladies or the gentlemen -
in the suit or in the dress
that is thrown in front of me;
when made princess or a prince
my face cannot help but wince
for my female...
790 reads
3 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
7th Aug 2015 11:15pm
7th Aug 2015 11:15pm
I Kissed the Microphone
Tonight, I kissed the microphone -
our lips were intertwined -
my voice rang out threefold as loud
as passion down my spine.
Projected lust passed back and forth
and lingered in the air
to fall upon the faces
dulled by light before them fair.
The wires moved under cracks of wood;
I poured my soul above
and let my throat mold every note
by flutter, fire, or shove.
But someone far before me stole
a moment of my eyes -
that look of dreamlike longing
had me wilder than the sky.
The river coursing through me deep...
our lips were intertwined -
my voice rang out threefold as loud
as passion down my spine.
Projected lust passed back and forth
and lingered in the air
to fall upon the faces
dulled by light before them fair.
The wires moved under cracks of wood;
I poured my soul above
and let my throat mold every note
by flutter, fire, or shove.
But someone far before me stole
a moment of my eyes -
that look of dreamlike longing
had me wilder than the sky.
The river coursing through me deep...
690 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
7th Aug 2015 11:01pm
7th Aug 2015 11:01pm
Jerky
I speed-walked from my room
with my guitar
and a pack of Jack Link's
(the peppered kind).
I may have stumbled
a little
on the way to write this.
I just realized what kind of person I am -
the kind that knows they're not unique
but wants it anyway -
that knows that no one is unique
but still entertains the thought
of sticking out.
That would be nicer
than blending in.
But blending in - as bland as it is -
seems like it's working -
I'm fine alone with Modest Mouse,
gnawing on jerky.
~
Age...
with my guitar
and a pack of Jack Link's
(the peppered kind).
I may have stumbled
a little
on the way to write this.
I just realized what kind of person I am -
the kind that knows they're not unique
but wants it anyway -
that knows that no one is unique
but still entertains the thought
of sticking out.
That would be nicer
than blending in.
But blending in - as bland as it is -
seems like it's working -
I'm fine alone with Modest Mouse,
gnawing on jerky.
~
Age...
685 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
7th Aug 2015 3:04pm
7th Aug 2015 3:04pm
Element
The years I wasted wanting her
are years I don't regret,
but this release is new and strange;
I'm careful with her yet.
The beers I tasted, taunting her -
the gold I swallowed twice -
it hit me harder than I dreamed -
I need another slice.
The scent of her is sinking in
between each crack and break
that made its home inside my skin
with pills I wouldn't take.
She isn't glass; she won't confuse
the light for something cheap
that she may toss back to the sun
or just decide to keep.
She is not glass, she is not...
are years I don't regret,
but this release is new and strange;
I'm careful with her yet.
The beers I tasted, taunting her -
the gold I swallowed twice -
it hit me harder than I dreamed -
I need another slice.
The scent of her is sinking in
between each crack and break
that made its home inside my skin
with pills I wouldn't take.
She isn't glass; she won't confuse
the light for something cheap
that she may toss back to the sun
or just decide to keep.
She is not glass, she is not...
667 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
7th Aug 2015 2:54pm
7th Aug 2015 2:54pm
Hands
The thought of your finger
dotting my nose
has me shaking;
the thought of your body
smothering mine
has me quaking.
The world and the rules -
circumstances -
I wish I could melt them;
your lips on my neck
(in a week,
I will wish I had felt them),
savory skin moving so
that I know
that you want me,
and all I can think:
does he know
that I need him to haunt me?
Giving in is a risk -
dangerous -
in a moment, I'd take it;
I'm fire over matter
and clattering ...
dotting my nose
has me shaking;
the thought of your body
smothering mine
has me quaking.
The world and the rules -
circumstances -
I wish I could melt them;
your lips on my neck
(in a week,
I will wish I had felt them),
savory skin moving so
that I know
that you want me,
and all I can think:
does he know
that I need him to haunt me?
Giving in is a risk -
dangerous -
in a moment, I'd take it;
I'm fire over matter
and clattering ...
892 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th Aug 2015 00:25am
7th Aug 2015 00:25am
Fireflies
I chase ideas like
fireflies, don't I?
I carry no jar
(and should I remember one,
I'd forget to poke holes in the top)
but my hands swing and miss them
sometimes - more often than not.
My vision's based on movement -
they're invisible
until one gets too excited or searches for her car keys
and I follow the yellow,
then lose it,
but never truly grow tired of waiting
for another flash.
~
Age when written: 15
fireflies, don't I?
I carry no jar
(and should I remember one,
I'd forget to poke holes in the top)
but my hands swing and miss them
sometimes - more often than not.
My vision's based on movement -
they're invisible
until one gets too excited or searches for her car keys
and I follow the yellow,
then lose it,
but never truly grow tired of waiting
for another flash.
~
Age when written: 15
676 reads
1 Comment
DRUGS POEM
Published
7th Aug 2015 00:15am
7th Aug 2015 00:15am
4%
When I held a bottle for the first time,
I loved the cold feeling of the glass on my fingers
and how it looked in my hand.
That bitter taste -
the very first swig from the gold she gave me -
at that moment, I was in.
My head was an easy sound
after I downed it -
I laughed at everything
and began to pour (requited) affection over her.
We all started swimming, then
spun an empty one. Kissed each other.
I started my second.
I'd heard bad things about drinking,
but damn, did I feel good.
Dizzy, free...
I loved the cold feeling of the glass on my fingers
and how it looked in my hand.
That bitter taste -
the very first swig from the gold she gave me -
at that moment, I was in.
My head was an easy sound
after I downed it -
I laughed at everything
and began to pour (requited) affection over her.
We all started swimming, then
spun an empty one. Kissed each other.
I started my second.
I'd heard bad things about drinking,
but damn, did I feel good.
Dizzy, free...
955 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by rowantree
