DerelictMind's profile
AGE:
28
LOC: Houston, TX
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: July 31
LOC: Houston, TX
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: July 31
Having been born in southeast Texas to a sixteen year old single mother did nothing to slow Stephen Gros’s momentum. If anything the transience of his early life fed his drive for experience. He began writing poetry at an early age, and after high school he began to take it more seriously. He’s been hitting the open mics from the Louisiana border to Long Beach California for the past 6 years and his first chapbook The Adventures of the Burning Boy achieved some small measure of notoriety. Identifying a need to centralize the rather tribal poetry scene in the Houston area, Stephen co-founded the non-profit organization Panhandler Publishing, www.thepanhandler.org which publishes a quarterly magazine devoted to poetry and the poetry com…
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Somehow, the stone steps moved away. The shaking timbers and tinkling glass; gone with perfunctory ease. A slow grating rumble, tumescent with longing, picket tapped the inside of our cramped rib cages. Then passed in bobbing echo, without a look back, down the long ear canals of our aural village. We’re telling the truth. We were dipped in chrome and buffed to shine. We were placed here, in front of this tomb, Though we never knew it. Some of us stood ankle deep in brine and offal Som...
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I counted it three times. I have 9 quarters, 24 dimes, 27 nickels, and a bunch of pennies I decide I’m not poor enough to count. Enough for a pack of Camels but not enough for a pack of Camels and a Coke. On the way to the corner store I walk in the middle of the street squinting in the dark so I can see the sidewalk on both sides It smells like rain. I make it to the store with no trouble. No one hits me. I don’t have to defend my pocketful of tiny metal presidents They chink loudly with eac...
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here we are. a thousand sidelong glances manifest. smoking grass in my living room you on the couch and me in my chair pretending i'm comfortable. i want you to sit with me, your head on my chest, our legs entangled. i'll stroke your hair and tell you a story from my childhood that will trail off into the aether, you'll tell me i have an irregular heartbeat i'll tell you, i know. we'll breathe together for a while then you'll kiss me again like you did before. gently but emphatically leaving ...
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The night air pours into my lungs. Frothy and thick, in an instant, I am the bleeding volcano, the stony mountain with a soft center, spouting my dark philosophy in billows. Lost among the drunken taxicabs of absolute reality, I howl. Slipping between cocktails like a ghost between the raindrops. Staying dry so the world won't slip. You called me Apollo once knowing I was Atlas, and I said "Go back to sleep baby, the sun will be coming up soon." I spoke with conviction; as if I knew. You wore...
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Render me inevitable. Color me the future. I'll endure. My time is not up. I'll abide. Unshackled. Irrevocable. No bonds, no irons, no ties, no chains. and NO outside assistance. I need but a moments pause... to ready my shoulders for the weight of this world. I am Atlas. and I am strong. If nothing else, I am strong
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i typically refer a more traditional limerick, either with a moral or a joke at the end. this is structured well enough, but i think you should replace the word babble with something else. it runs together to read like Babylon, stopping the flow of the limerick.
i like this. the last line seems a bit trite, i'd like to see more transition from the fighting to the understanding. how do you know? where does the understanding come from? i'm with you all the way to the end though. good work.
i like this. some of the imagery is very standard, the sweet like honey line for example. i think with a rewrite this could be a very solid piece
i like this. let me just say that first. i have some problems with it though. the imagery you use throughout (death, blue lips, maggots, blood) takes away from the real substance found in the piece. it comes off trite and sophomoric. also i'd love to see this broken up with line breaks and stanzas, because there are natural pauses throughout that could really help it to read better if it were structured more.
i like the sentiment here, and i can identify with the subject matter as well. the last two stanzas leaves me a little confused about the purpose. like i'm given all of this emotion to deal with and then it's negated at the end.
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