#doe
a doe wandered into the clear path of the starry forest. three shots had rung out.
a buck lay flat on the clovers and tall grass.
a fawn beside him pawing the ground.
three frogs hopping in the trees.
down down down.
the doe lay beside the fawn as it denied the inevitable, inescapable truth.
he was gone.
she was here.
and the frogs sang a sappy tune.
"ohhh cry out sweet sorrow, the dragonflies skitter away! the cats are out and the mice are at play. whistle sour melodies and harmonious truth, the deer have crossed over, behind stayed their youth."
the young doe shooed away the silly frogs before the hunters heard.
poor fawn.
no mama in sight.
Mar 30, 2025
Mar 30, 2025 at 11:30 PM UTC
Schools’, free-ish U.S.
budget cuts GALORE, burnout
Teachers: in terror | are trying
May 26, 2022
May 26, 2022 at 1:58 PM UTC
If one is inert
And ten is a breakthrough
You and I, in concert,
Add to a beautiful two.
If red is progress
And yellow is obscene
Us two, coalesced,
Somehow craft a verdant green.
With the earth above
And the sky below
I’d make a pretty dove
And you a peaceful doe.
Jan 14, 2022
Jan 14, 2022 at 10:50 PM UTC
You’ve always been where I belong,
it’s proven to me every moment, every day.
You make me think that Frost was wrong
when he said “nothing gold can stay.”
Sep 11, 2021
Sep 11, 2021 at 10:00 AM UTC
I am Jane Doe
My identity is unknown
I am a face without a name
A pile of mysterious bones
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 11:55 PM UTC
you are considered a dead thing
slowed down by decent refrigeration
and declared
'personality put to pasture'
a name would help with the paperwork
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 10:21 PM UTC
On a winter's day,
a beautiful, baby Doe,
was born in the snow.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 1:18 AM UTC
A man comes out of the shadows,
as so it goes.
Held his fist to the doe,
Her money, you know.
“I’ve only but a rose,
one of friendship despite my woes.”
And with that rose she choked.
Like Porphyria’s lover,
coaxed.
Soft mane of death,
like a thorn to the chest.
Only the rose of amity saw the rest.
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 7:57 PM UTC
Your better place
Is the worse place you could possibly be
For me
Everything reminds me of you
Your style, your smile, your face
Your arms were my home
You left me alone
It wasn't perfect, but it was perfect
Now I'm left to dissect
Every moment I can't remember
Late nights, last nights, deep trembles
I am so mad at you
This was nothing you couldn't get through
Now we are through forever
No more chances to make your responses clever
Like only you could do
Forever will feel like forever without you
I knew you best you knew me better
Down to the last letter
I will pick up the pieces
Like you know I do
From now on it's for you
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 11:16 PM UTC
It is morning-time, and I walk
meandering paths pull me, a crisp breeze pushes me
the earth supports me and falls away with each passing step
it can only hold me when I'm there
softwood trees bend around the trail, and hardwood trees enrich their denouement. A glittering canopy of dewy leaves curls atop my route, the moonbeams seeming to dawn from inside each perfect ornament. but I know the finished moon floats just above them
my steps flow in a steady rhythm, regularly broken by the passage of a memory. Sometimes it is time. Sometimes it is a dance. Once it was another Being that caught my consideration; a ghostly doe, visible just through a break in the wood, a brown and white-speckled spectre crashing through the hinterland, startled by my feet, by my breath-
the breeze is stronger now, and made anxious by the din my pace quickens. memories stream by faster, woken up by the filtered moonlight, pulled out from abeyance. leaves drifting upon a whirling river, clouds being ripped into a storm.
it is morning-time, and I walk
the sky is deepening, though the moon is descending
too much has happened, too much has passed into yore
I remember just enough, and it is mourning-time
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 10:19 PM UTC
I was making my way down
The highway,
Cornfields on both sides of me.
The moon shined even though
It was still day time.
The sky was a light lavender shade
That oozed into a faded blue
Twilight, you could say.
I caught a glimpse of a doe
And her baby
Walking through the endless field.
My mind wandered.
Where did they come from?
Perhaps they came from
Deep in the woods,
Where the birds sang
And the creek bubbles,
The sun seeps through the trees.
Perhaps all the animals got along,
Or maybe,
They came from an open field,
Maybe they had a family,
A buck, a herd,
Possibly even a few more fawns.
Maybe something drove them from there.
Maybe a gun,
Maybe a predator,
Maybe weather.
My mind wandered more,
Where were they going?
Were they looking for somewhere safe?
Or were they only trying to survive?
I wished I could see more of their journey.
I wanted to root them on.
Keep living!
Keep fighting!
Where ever you're off to, keep going!
Then the moment passed,
They were long out of my sight.
I hope they are still alright.
I hope they were alright.
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 8:58 PM UTC
REMEMBRANCE of HARRIET HARRIS –
mile ate mum: Christened as averred one Harriet Kuritsky. A Brooklyn babe born on November 13th nineteen thirty five, the youngest (and last of the lot tubby alive) of four siblings (only one brother), whose Brexit from world viz terminal illness, she did not survive.
The following emotions communicating heartfelt grief practically vanquished as existence turned a new mo' tiff leaf. A recurring abysmal grief stricken state consumed my entire being immediately fool low wing her demise, but pooch less so now. Perpetual tears of sadness seemed not to a-bate, when grim reaper brandished signature scythe 'n of deadlocked fate.
Twas about 11:00 a.m. 2005 third of May, our dearly beloved mother fought tooth and nail to keep death at bay (as recounted by eldest and youngest sisters, who elected to remain on vigil that day), nonetheless rigor mortis upper hand brought (supposed) painless swift death, her diseased and emaciated riddled body gone lifeless and ashen gray.
Profound mourning brought misty eyes
from only heir misses, whom hissed mom
more so than then now, but noneless
more than plaintive words spell
with agonizingly pained heart and soul
rent asunder psyche pell-mell
no amount of weeping can quiet and quell.
Cathartic for me to give posthumous ode
conveyed in an easy to read poetic code
to help accept finality and permanent loss,
now only retrievable from nostalgic memories
identified as childhood doghouse favorite abode.
Her cremated ashes no longer remain sealed in nondescript box boot scattered to the four winds at a favorite secluded spot - that really rocks with the Moss evoking a spring stein.
White, powdery chalk like material
devoid of any vestigial semblance
to her once living and vibrant self
that unique persona pulverized and vaporized
(housed former svelte and tall
Arthur Murray ball-room dance teacher
a half-century plus prior to her demise
which beauty, charm and grace quickly
caught the attention of my father
who courted and eventually proposed
to this young flirt and tease of a gal)
inert organic matter represented sole
residual embodiment reduced to dust
and near nothingness former corpo
real being of blood, bone and flesh
weighing no more than a dozen hatch marks
on the scale absence bore down heavy
like millstones round the neck per
black void created by defeat with
Grim Reaper toward this woman,
who birthed and nursed me into
manhood momma’s only grown son
felt torturous ripples of grievous sadness,
no matter years of suppressed anger,
and rage in addition to emotional
conflicts between us, which
in variably wrought unpleasant relationship
and legacy of discord writ large across
the tapestry of mine existence.
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC
Way Back Then©
I remember way back then,
You could see for miles and the stars were so brightly lit,
Before the smog and other pollutants hit
There were trees and bees, and other such things
Where now pavement rules for miles on end
And eight lane highways do extend
But progress must come, as we all know
So stand back the bear and the doe
And make room for another condo
We all know profits must be met
And there's no time for a study
For there isn't total global warming just yet?
There are schedules to heed and deadlines to meet
So we need more concrete to get us there
Who cares about the quality of the air?
For in this day and age where everyone has a cell phone
It is easier to clone than to let nature on her own
And if that doesn't work we can use something genetically grown
Then there's always the lotto or casino to make our day
We no longer need Mother Nature to have her say
For we as humans have figured out a better way
So let us raise our beer in cheer
Dawn our hats, for skin cancer is always a fear
And off we go for another great year
Maybe by now we've figured out there are too many
Of us to fit on a shuttle to that unknown place far away
And for all of us to survive a nuclear explosion on any given day
So in its stead we'll settle for our own implosion
Have a great day
Andreas Simic©
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 7:33 AM UTC
Smokey musk of mist-soaked moss
by roving river bank,
where dainty doe stands tall and fair
where long-lost love once sank.
Dew-soaked coat 'mungst moonlit woods
a chestnut, hazel brown.
She stalks the brooks, thin, lithe and cool
where once-loved life was drowned.
She walks his path from long ago,
her shadow echoes loss,
"goodbye," she whispers, "I'll miss you so."
as she fades into the moss.
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 9:05 AM UTC
She is right to fear me
Though I would never dream
Of laying a finger
Or inflicting even a fragment of pain
Upon her beautiful countenance
(Intentionally, that is)
I have never seen
Such a darling woman
Her dark, round eyes
Leave me frozen in place
Her narrow, sculpted face
Captures me
She need not utter a sound
To beguile me speechless
There are many like her
But none ARE her
As I have studied from afar
Watched her
Worshiped her
I wish she didn't come around
So often
For it is daunting to think
Of what I may do
She has become close to me
Letting me into her space
Am I imagining trust?
I wish she would run from me
And find someone else to
Spend time with
Someone more like her
Her long, powerful legs
Are captivating
The way she carries herself
As graceful as a dancer--
Maybe even more so
I see her almost every day now
She still looks healthy
But
I hope one day she won't
Be alone
Maybe that's why she looks to me
Her silent, careful observer
Maybe she knows I mean no harm
But I can't promise that
For my species is one that marries
Destruction
One that may have torn down
Her old home
Poisoned her water source
Killed her companions
Caused her to know an unnatural fear
I sit in my car
On my driveway
And watch her from only
A few feet away
She looks back at me
With those full eyes
And we sit like this for a while
I wonder if she understands
My apology
My forlorn gaze as I ponder
How long she will survive out there
I thank whoever is listening
That she'll never know about
Her son's head being mounted
On a wall
Or maybe her father's...
Whichever looks more appealing to us
Finally I free myself from
This trance and
Honk my horn
I watch her glide through the woods
Away from me
I want her to be afraid.
Because I am afraid
For her.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 3:18 PM UTC
Panasoffkee, Florida
Dressed in green and gold
Strangled with a 36 belt
Her corpse a whole month old
Rotting beneath the water
Nobody knew her body
Paul John Knowles
Was out on parole,
Could he be the killer at fault here?
Who was Miss Panasoffkee?
What happened to Constantina?
Found submerged in a river
Nameless and missing forever
Could she be an escapee, a runaway from Greece?
Fleeing her cruel husband as a romantic refugee?
Perhaps the world will never know
Perhaps we'll never see
Who the real identity may be
of Miss Lake Panasoffkee
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 9:07 PM UTC
hello heart-eyed doe,
tripping over your delicate feet
following the warm promise
of spring
hello heart-eyed doe,
don't let your spirit go
while you're out searching
for your love
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 10:15 AM UTC
Like a scared little doe
You coaxed me into the field to go
You feed me every single day
All your sweet loving words it was such an array
You had me believing
You would never be leaving
Then one day with loving words still on your lips
You pulled the arrow off your hip
Pulled back your bow
Let your arrow flow
Right into my heart
But that was just the start
I didn't die
You only wanted me to cry
With every heart beat
The more I bleed
I slowly go insane
Whilst all the blood drains
And my heart again will turn to stone
I will now forever live my life alone
For you again have showen me
True love is just a fantasy
But for now I'm still bleeding out
Now all I can do is shout
To the heavens, God your so cruel
I'll just lay here and watch my blood, my love pool
I no longer belive in God, see babe you even took that too
No more hope, no more faith, no more love, you took it all, I'M THROUGH!!
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 2:29 PM UTC