Submissions by waitingforgodet (jim)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I write poetry from time to time. How do you introduce yourself as a poet other than putting your stuff out there?
LOVE POEM
Published
8th Feb 2011 10:21pm
8th Feb 2011 10:21pm
The Next Best Award
The next best award would be,
Ah, yes, what women have given me.
Accolades of love, sex and sensuality
imbued with varied scents and tonality.
But unlike notions of regret,
it is best that I do not forgot.
The key to their magic kingdoms aside,
They dwell in my heart wherever they reside.
And from them there lies perennial joy.
Not a mere fabrication or mind-set ploy
but a real and tactile memory
indelibly placed by species of femininity.
Indeed, the next best award I’ll ever know
til the next owns my heart and doesn’t go.
Ah, yes, what women have given me.
Accolades of love, sex and sensuality
imbued with varied scents and tonality.
But unlike notions of regret,
it is best that I do not forgot.
The key to their magic kingdoms aside,
They dwell in my heart wherever they reside.
And from them there lies perennial joy.
Not a mere fabrication or mind-set ploy
but a real and tactile memory
indelibly placed by species of femininity.
Indeed, the next best award I’ll ever know
til the next owns my heart and doesn’t go.
879 reads
0 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Feb 2011 1:54pm
3rd Feb 2011 1:54pm
Like The Surgeon's Knife
Yes, confined in my home.
But I am not alone.
My right, Mr. Thoreau.
Rebel at some cost, though.
Philosophical, wise.
Led us through nature’s eyes
toward redemption and hope.
The tree would help us cope.
My left, Albert Camus;
on my chest, John Keats too,
who wrote of love sublime.
Still yearned for in our time.
Camus showed our fall
through our human call
for lies and subterfuge
covered by modern rouge.
As I lie in my bed,
their words live in my head.
And like the surgeon’s knife
that saved my own short life.
The...
But I am not alone.
My right, Mr. Thoreau.
Rebel at some cost, though.
Philosophical, wise.
Led us through nature’s eyes
toward redemption and hope.
The tree would help us cope.
My left, Albert Camus;
on my chest, John Keats too,
who wrote of love sublime.
Still yearned for in our time.
Camus showed our fall
through our human call
for lies and subterfuge
covered by modern rouge.
As I lie in my bed,
their words live in my head.
And like the surgeon’s knife
that saved my own short life.
The...
#books
#MyInspiration
#admiration #HenryDavidThoreau
#admiration #HenryDavidThoreau
897 reads
0 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Jan 2011 3:21pm
22nd Jan 2011 3:21pm
You
There is something so beautiful in you.
It can never be taken away.
It is perfect in its simplicity and form.
It lives within you every day.
There is something so beautiful in you.
It is distinct in its tone.
It isomniscient in its vision
and stands on its own.
There is something so beautiful in you.
It is always there,
have you forgotten? It is relentless in its vigil
and masked only by your fear.
There is something so beautiful in you,
indefatigable in its mission
andit can be resurrected with only a whisper
in any...
It can never be taken away.
It is perfect in its simplicity and form.
It lives within you every day.
There is something so beautiful in you.
It is distinct in its tone.
It isomniscient in its vision
and stands on its own.
There is something so beautiful in you.
It is always there,
have you forgotten? It is relentless in its vigil
and masked only by your fear.
There is something so beautiful in you,
indefatigable in its mission
andit can be resurrected with only a whisper
in any...
1601 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
20th Jan 2011 8:25pm
20th Jan 2011 8:25pm
The Blue Room
She was a regal gal under ablue hat past her prime
and had crossed the threshold intothe golden years of her decline.
I was surprised when she stopped me outside the hotel and commanded me to have a drink with her, to hold her hand
inside the Ritz's deserted piano bar where she resurrected an ancient jazz band
fromtheBlue Room that played music so sad it would wrench your heart and make you cry
with a sound so terribly beautiful you wanted to die.
It was a time when everybody smoked
and people had class and joked
about everything under the sun...
and had crossed the threshold intothe golden years of her decline.
I was surprised when she stopped me outside the hotel and commanded me to have a drink with her, to hold her hand
inside the Ritz's deserted piano bar where she resurrected an ancient jazz band
fromtheBlue Room that played music so sad it would wrench your heart and make you cry
with a sound so terribly beautiful you wanted to die.
It was a time when everybody smoked
and people had class and joked
about everything under the sun...
1083 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Jan 2011 10:23pm
18th Jan 2011 10:23pm
Melanie, And No Longer The god I Once Was
There was a time she loved all the clothes I picked out for her
and I reminded her of that fact,
to which she responded: “I was just a little kid then and didn’t know any better.”
Before we went into American Eagle she instructed me not to speak to the sales staff
and not to follow her around in the store
and Do Not Dance to the music because it’s not funny and doesn’t make anyone laugh.
“When you were younger, you loved to dance with me in the store."
That comment did not get a verbal response: Just the rolling of the eyes.
Then she added that...
and I reminded her of that fact,
to which she responded: “I was just a little kid then and didn’t know any better.”
Before we went into American Eagle she instructed me not to speak to the sales staff
and not to follow her around in the store
and Do Not Dance to the music because it’s not funny and doesn’t make anyone laugh.
“When you were younger, you loved to dance with me in the store."
That comment did not get a verbal response: Just the rolling of the eyes.
Then she added that...
1024 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
18th Jan 2011 9:33pm
18th Jan 2011 9:33pm
Ladies, I'm On Your Side . . . But . . .
Forty years ago your bras were burning
in protest to your lot in life
and the double standard that men enjoyed
at your expense.
There were marches and speeches and songs on your behalf
seen andheard again and again throughout the media
until things changed for you and your sisters
and you got the same pay as men for the same jobs.
You became air line pilots, cops and fire fighters.
You fought sexual harassment in the work place and won.
You are no longer under the subjugation of men
and I salute you and your great leaders: Gloria Steinem,...
in protest to your lot in life
and the double standard that men enjoyed
at your expense.
There were marches and speeches and songs on your behalf
seen andheard again and again throughout the media
until things changed for you and your sisters
and you got the same pay as men for the same jobs.
You became air line pilots, cops and fire fighters.
You fought sexual harassment in the work place and won.
You are no longer under the subjugation of men
and I salute you and your great leaders: Gloria Steinem,...
873 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Jan 2011 7:23pm
17th Jan 2011 7:23pm
Money Did Not Impress Her
Her caption read: It was honesty, integrity and intelligence she admired most
and practically ordered me not to try to impress her
with money or what I own like the other men do on the profiles they post
and assured me that she was not looking for a man to be her benefactor.
We exchanged emails on poets,novelists and society on this dating site.
She praised mywriting and suggested we talk on the phone.
I was delighted and loved her mind and thought we might have a date that night.
She considered my photo handsome and loved the sound of my voice and irreverent...
and practically ordered me not to try to impress her
with money or what I own like the other men do on the profiles they post
and assured me that she was not looking for a man to be her benefactor.
We exchanged emails on poets,novelists and society on this dating site.
She praised mywriting and suggested we talk on the phone.
I was delighted and loved her mind and thought we might have a date that night.
She considered my photo handsome and loved the sound of my voice and irreverent...
877 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Jan 2011 5:41pm
15th Jan 2011 5:41pm
Sometimes The Best Words Can Be Unspoken
You once told me, Jim,that only composites of love exist.
I believe you now and can resist your stupid charm, your stupidwit and r-e-p-a-r-t-e-e.
You know I love you, but you don’t love me.
Disappearing for days, weeks—you’re like a mist.
Leave my hair alone . . . Yougo away . . comeback . . . go away again.
I’m a woman who needsjustonedevoted man.
Are you that stupid, don’t you understand?
That’s why I’ve decided to date other men.
Please stop trying to remove my bra.
How old are you?
...
I believe you now and can resist your stupid charm, your stupidwit and r-e-p-a-r-t-e-e.
You know I love you, but you don’t love me.
Disappearing for days, weeks—you’re like a mist.
Leave my hair alone . . . Yougo away . . comeback . . . go away again.
I’m a woman who needsjustonedevoted man.
Are you that stupid, don’t you understand?
That’s why I’ve decided to date other men.
Please stop trying to remove my bra.
How old are you?
...
932 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
14th Jan 2011 3:42pm
14th Jan 2011 3:42pm
The Woman, The Pet and The Bad Boy
There was a time not long ago she would not have given Arthur a second look.
Arthur did not thrill her and she was not in love with his mind.
He put in her French drain, locks,installed her wood stove--that was the hook
yet when he touched her she would rather not andinvoluntarily pined
and painedfor Dimitri and the deliciously wickedway he made her feel,
like a magnificent whore ravaged, breathless andowned by this man.
Addicted to his every wish-- the money she gave him, she'd do anything for him, but he wasn't real:
He was like a fantasy lived and in the...
Arthur did not thrill her and she was not in love with his mind.
He put in her French drain, locks,installed her wood stove--that was the hook
yet when he touched her she would rather not andinvoluntarily pined
and painedfor Dimitri and the deliciously wickedway he made her feel,
like a magnificent whore ravaged, breathless andowned by this man.
Addicted to his every wish-- the money she gave him, she'd do anything for him, but he wasn't real:
He was like a fantasy lived and in the...
1078 reads
2 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Jan 2011 11:59pm
13th Jan 2011 11:59pm
The Clock Is Ticking, Do You Hear It Now?
You say you want to be bolder
as you get older
and care less what people say
yet you'rein retreat with each passing day.
Time takes us all in the end
Soshout it out to foe and friend,
foryou're only here a very short time.
Be who you are; if not, it's a prodigious crime
against the best part of you.
The clock is ticking, you don't hear ittoo?
Hurry up andraise your voice and sing your song,
So what if you stumble,you won't be wrong.
Realizeyour epiphany,you don't have long.
The clock is ticking. Do you hear it now?
as you get older
and care less what people say
yet you'rein retreat with each passing day.
Time takes us all in the end
Soshout it out to foe and friend,
foryou're only here a very short time.
Be who you are; if not, it's a prodigious crime
against the best part of you.
The clock is ticking, you don't hear ittoo?
Hurry up andraise your voice and sing your song,
So what if you stumble,you won't be wrong.
Realizeyour epiphany,you don't have long.
The clock is ticking. Do you hear it now?
1022 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Jan 2011 3:35pm
9th Jan 2011 3:35pm
What Shall We Do Today?
Her question frightens me.
It's been so long since I've had my way.
I'm glad her question was only rhetorical anyway.
Shesugggestsbrunch again with Austin and Bea.
LoveBea's Bloody Mary's, great idea, Dear.
It's so much easier to live this way.
We never quarrel on any given day.
As I long as I am agreeable it is all very clear.
There was a time I hadconvictions of my own.
I'd confront anyoneand go toe to toe
and challenge the worldand hadsomething to show
throughfighting words of my own in my poem.
Then I grew weary and ran under...
It's been so long since I've had my way.
I'm glad her question was only rhetorical anyway.
Shesugggestsbrunch again with Austin and Bea.
LoveBea's Bloody Mary's, great idea, Dear.
It's so much easier to live this way.
We never quarrel on any given day.
As I long as I am agreeable it is all very clear.
There was a time I hadconvictions of my own.
I'd confront anyoneand go toe to toe
and challenge the worldand hadsomething to show
throughfighting words of my own in my poem.
Then I grew weary and ran under...
855 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
8th Jan 2011 3:17pm
8th Jan 2011 3:17pm
Her
She is beautiful to me
and never screams unless it is in the bedroom
and listens and does not presume
and laughs easily with a grasp of wit and irony.
She practices the exquisite art of reciprocity
and says humorous and provocative things in and out of bed
and does not go to sleep with issues about me unsaid
and possesses a playful and uninhibited sensuality.
She inspires me to reach for what I don't know
and never settles for the insipid and dreaded mediocrity
and helps bring ideas only whispered to actuality
and does itwith the...
and never screams unless it is in the bedroom
and listens and does not presume
and laughs easily with a grasp of wit and irony.
She practices the exquisite art of reciprocity
and says humorous and provocative things in and out of bed
and does not go to sleep with issues about me unsaid
and possesses a playful and uninhibited sensuality.
She inspires me to reach for what I don't know
and never settles for the insipid and dreaded mediocrity
and helps bring ideas only whispered to actuality
and does itwith the...
1154 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by waitingforgodet (jim)
