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These are poetry drafts. I consider all my poetry in a constant state of drafting, some with revision ongoing, others merely gathering dust. Some have been published but will still be considered drafts.

N.B. When these posts were imported I noticed some of my reblogs also got pulled in. It should be ovious from the contents that they are reblogs from other writers. I am in the process of removing those posts.

Pop up prompt:

By -

smittenbypoetry:

This challenge will run till January 17th

Subject: The Joy Ephemeral 

Let it inspire you in any way. There will be no additional rules for this week’s prompt. 

—

Tag your poem #smittenbypoetrygame, and I will reblog it here. Be sure to use one of the first five tags to do this, else there’s a chance it won’t show up when I’ll search for it. If I haven’t reblogged your poem within 24 hours, please send me a message and I’ll add it to the queue.

Oh, I bet The Jay Ephemeral would also pass the submission filter, although calling a Jay ephemeral would be an oops. But since I know both a Joy and a Jay I will withdraw and contemplate — words …

Miss Nearly

By - 
I would have kept you close
Had you chosen the path of words
Atop a river
Bleeding

I would have kept you closer
Had you chosen anything but
Hiding the bottle beneath
Your pillow

I would have kept you
Your dreams
Desires spreading
Like lice – curling

I would have
Kept
You –

Near

Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil

Miss Nearly

By - 
I would have kept you close
Had you chosen the path of words
Atop a river
Bleeding

I would have kept you closer
Had you chosen anything but
Hiding the bottle beneath
Your pillow

I would have kept you
Your dreams
Desires spreading
Like lice – curling

I would have
Kept
You –

Near

a draft, revision 357.3

By - 
and the poet wrote
a draft,
then forged a plan of
revision,

and the poet revised
and yet again,
until nothing remained
but letters

Untitled (7748)

By - 
Glowing 
I am tired,
tired of looking,
tired of seeing everything 
through these eyes,
these battered and
bruised pair of 
translucent balls 

I was born with
the second sight,
the power to separate
truth
from otherwise

I am tired,
tired of pretending,
tired of being this,
through this and that
a cloud unmattered;
I find only the solemn
void of darkness

I was born with
a second sight,
a power to divide
truth 
through force &
purifying

I am tired now,
tired of the everything,
the thing thing &
seeing clouds,
above as here below
I gather my eyes –
glowing

Pages

By - 
I let the sock slip


      down my foot like a
      condom
      filled with your desire ∆ your
otherwise


between my legs and your hag
shapes |


                I finger and touch the most


intimate of


                                                        pages ;;


Your innermost desires


                                              { /dev/null }


and the bra dropped, the bra left


                                                        cold:


left sock-less &


                               slipped,


Nipples erect &


                                                   ~ wooden ~

Swallows

By - 
The bread stuffed into the toaster, then the spread
of butter on cooling… ,
Swivels of honey, imported but sweet as

…

the crunch; the crunch

I uncork the blue bottle

the crunch; the crunch

My love for Bombay Sapphire

as I

duck

& swallow

sweet
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