Submissions by runningturtle87
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
If it's not intimate, what's the point?......................
Secrets from the Short Bus
As a child
I hardly talked at school,
they understood no secrets.
I never read their libraries,
though a few animal books
showed faces that understood my meaning.
In the area
of math I excelled
and yet had no language
yet to say it.
Cloistered from normality,
whatever that entailed,
I was left to dream
undetected
for a quarter frame of life
until a mad professor
explored my writings
in a note,
"I'm not exactly sure,"
he stammered,
"what it is you mean to say,
but there...
I hardly talked at school,
they understood no secrets.
I never read their libraries,
though a few animal books
showed faces that understood my meaning.
In the area
of math I excelled
and yet had no language
yet to say it.
Cloistered from normality,
whatever that entailed,
I was left to dream
undetected
for a quarter frame of life
until a mad professor
explored my writings
in a note,
"I'm not exactly sure,"
he stammered,
"what it is you mean to say,
but there...
661 reads
3 Comments
I Am Your Tears
Simplicity is a dance
of taking out all
of the destructive elements
that cause chaos and deformity
and leaves only the faintest lines
of harmony
to draw an outline
of how the heart sees
all things as being one.
A child sees simplicity
in everything
and then over time
we load this heart
with magnitudes
of pain
and insensitivity
until at last
only the faintest hint
of its elemental structure
are visible
to those who see
with the blindness
of sheer love.
I looked
into your...
of taking out all
of the destructive elements
that cause chaos and deformity
and leaves only the faintest lines
of harmony
to draw an outline
of how the heart sees
all things as being one.
A child sees simplicity
in everything
and then over time
we load this heart
with magnitudes
of pain
and insensitivity
until at last
only the faintest hint
of its elemental structure
are visible
to those who see
with the blindness
of sheer love.
I looked
into your...
666 reads
4 Comments
Four Colored Dice
A hand can deliver
the force gathered
by the sub-conscious mind
and united
in synchronic exhibition
of the exact degree to flush out
an encoded message
on the face
of a set
of given articles:
An orange cube lands 4 up
facing northwest along a line
and bisecting a purple area,
the loci just preceding
the Concern of Conflict.
A purple element,
the sign of Intellect
and Consciousness,
exposing a 2,
huddles
in the Humiliation corner,
almost directly
below the orange cube,
the...
the force gathered
by the sub-conscious mind
and united
in synchronic exhibition
of the exact degree to flush out
an encoded message
on the face
of a set
of given articles:
An orange cube lands 4 up
facing northwest along a line
and bisecting a purple area,
the loci just preceding
the Concern of Conflict.
A purple element,
the sign of Intellect
and Consciousness,
exposing a 2,
huddles
in the Humiliation corner,
almost directly
below the orange cube,
the...
616 reads
2 Comments
For All I Care
Life is not
some juncture in the road
but rather the winding trail
that leads there,
to the end of life,
whatever that might mean
or not mean to some.
It seems odd to me,
given certain
perceived claims
about a world
we have no proof of
and have no certain
message back from,
and yet
we spend the majority
of our waking hours
making claims
and yet claiming
no responsibility
for what we do.
We all know where
all trails end but
who knows how
they get there?
And...
some juncture in the road
but rather the winding trail
that leads there,
to the end of life,
whatever that might mean
or not mean to some.
It seems odd to me,
given certain
perceived claims
about a world
we have no proof of
and have no certain
message back from,
and yet
we spend the majority
of our waking hours
making claims
and yet claiming
no responsibility
for what we do.
We all know where
all trails end but
who knows how
they get there?
And...
715 reads
4 Comments
To Know Her
Who is to say
the value
of a woman
who has an open heart
and can speak
from her center?
Her hearth is warm
and her thighs
maintain the legacy
of a thousand generations.
To you,
the turn
of her head,
the density
of her voice,
or the coil
of her dance
may not meet
the standard charms
of the packing crates
of cooking oils
and model trains,
the corporate look
of trade beer ales
of the smoothed wood finish
of a seasoned meat,
but her eyes
have seen you through
a bitter...
the value
of a woman
who has an open heart
and can speak
from her center?
Her hearth is warm
and her thighs
maintain the legacy
of a thousand generations.
To you,
the turn
of her head,
the density
of her voice,
or the coil
of her dance
may not meet
the standard charms
of the packing crates
of cooking oils
and model trains,
the corporate look
of trade beer ales
of the smoothed wood finish
of a seasoned meat,
but her eyes
have seen you through
a bitter...
930 reads
10 Comments
Wanting More Beyond Reason
Everything she wanted
to do would have sounded
so great if only
I had been conscious enough,
but as she launched herself headlong
into a symphony of clit whistling subterfuge
I passed out and all she could do
the next day was to remind me
I'd missed the best part
as the glorious hosts
played bells in the sanctuary,
and my dizzy sub-feelings
rang out a snuff-muffed tinkling.
runningturtle87
to do would have sounded
so great if only
I had been conscious enough,
but as she launched herself headlong
into a symphony of clit whistling subterfuge
I passed out and all she could do
the next day was to remind me
I'd missed the best part
as the glorious hosts
played bells in the sanctuary,
and my dizzy sub-feelings
rang out a snuff-muffed tinkling.
runningturtle87
669 reads
6 Comments
End of the Road
725 reads
4 Comments
She's Not Broken
You're not broken
but rather you had to break
through all the layers
that were holding you down.
She's not broken
revealing everything
she's got
she's not a token
she's only saying
what the wind was playing
when the hurricane came down
she's not broken.
You had to have that broken fall
you had to lose it all
the wired call and lost transmission
those men all took your pride
that one cut you so bad
he left and thought you died
But you lived on
and learned to drive
and now...
but rather you had to break
through all the layers
that were holding you down.
She's not broken
revealing everything
she's got
she's not a token
she's only saying
what the wind was playing
when the hurricane came down
she's not broken.
You had to have that broken fall
you had to lose it all
the wired call and lost transmission
those men all took your pride
that one cut you so bad
he left and thought you died
But you lived on
and learned to drive
and now...
1614 reads
6 Comments
Stop Taking it All for Granted
There is no given law
that ways there will be justice,
reciprocity, or paybacks.
No one owes you a dime.
You may do a million good deeds
and they spit in your face.
If the reason you help
is to be praised,
you are not helping anyone
but yourself,
fishing for a compliment.
Tiresome, overworked,
fresh out, overwhelmed…
these are the payoffs
for those who work
on the behalf of others.
They will not be grateful,
they will not say thank you,
they will not point out
what a wonderful...
that ways there will be justice,
reciprocity, or paybacks.
No one owes you a dime.
You may do a million good deeds
and they spit in your face.
If the reason you help
is to be praised,
you are not helping anyone
but yourself,
fishing for a compliment.
Tiresome, overworked,
fresh out, overwhelmed…
these are the payoffs
for those who work
on the behalf of others.
They will not be grateful,
they will not say thank you,
they will not point out
what a wonderful...
628 reads
4 Comments
Cured by Her Essence
I drank from her
majestic
laid at her lap
lapping up
her healing resources,
drafting sweet drams
and incandescence
and her eyes closed
as she spoke of the stars.
Nebula healing tetragrams
spangling convolutions
and her healing libation
her fountain gave way
and I suckled the snow flakes
that opened my eyes
she held my face
and pressed herself forward
until the last drop
I'd tasted and my fever
made liquid by dew.
Forever thankful,
I licked my lips
of their flavor,...
majestic
laid at her lap
lapping up
her healing resources,
drafting sweet drams
and incandescence
and her eyes closed
as she spoke of the stars.
Nebula healing tetragrams
spangling convolutions
and her healing libation
her fountain gave way
and I suckled the snow flakes
that opened my eyes
she held my face
and pressed herself forward
until the last drop
I'd tasted and my fever
made liquid by dew.
Forever thankful,
I licked my lips
of their flavor,...
900 reads
4 Comments
The Milk Maid's Story
Oh, he's no catch to think of
no steamer in the Glen
who puffs up hill and mountain
and wood box heats on in.
His whistling prose
and voice at that
are nothing but a rail
but to her his every breath
was like a ship at sail.
His anchor tough
and cobble hands
demeanor
met on trails
lacked nostalgia's
second glance
his romance launched
no skyward whales.
But to her
his arms were titans
his hair and beard
were Zeus.
And just the thought
of tangled touching
put off the fearéd noose....
no steamer in the Glen
who puffs up hill and mountain
and wood box heats on in.
His whistling prose
and voice at that
are nothing but a rail
but to her his every breath
was like a ship at sail.
His anchor tough
and cobble hands
demeanor
met on trails
lacked nostalgia's
second glance
his romance launched
no skyward whales.
But to her
his arms were titans
his hair and beard
were Zeus.
And just the thought
of tangled touching
put off the fearéd noose....
815 reads
0 Comments
Behind Her Solitude
She's led me
to believe for years
that she needs not a soul
not only needs she not just me
but not a soul her own.
She operates with skillful poise,
her rules control all toys.
And when she finally breaks
and says, the news is flat line red.
"I've never felt I looked
the part of being what you want.
My cooking never met the grade,
my sex it had no heart.
I gagged and wretched
in all discomfort
with not a moment's bliss.
I never like your smell or touch,
I loathed each time we kissed.
But you were safe...
to believe for years
that she needs not a soul
not only needs she not just me
but not a soul her own.
She operates with skillful poise,
her rules control all toys.
And when she finally breaks
and says, the news is flat line red.
"I've never felt I looked
the part of being what you want.
My cooking never met the grade,
my sex it had no heart.
I gagged and wretched
in all discomfort
with not a moment's bliss.
I never like your smell or touch,
I loathed each time we kissed.
But you were safe...
764 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by runningturtle87