All Poems
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
The latest poetry and short stories posted on DU Poetry.
Lazarus_Rabinowitz
Published
Yesterday 11:58pm
Yesterday 11:58pm
Eschatology
taking my stand
at the top of the slide
I glare at the line of children
chanting up at me
cry baby, cry baby, cry baby
cry baby, cry baby, cry baby
blue tears blur crimson rage
cry baby, cry baby, cry baby
the yellow-mouthed woman
has organized this attack
in retaliation for my outburst
towards a hay-haired miniature
demagogue and her pride of
speech-impaired lackeys
that rendered them confused,
floundering over one another
as I rushed at them roaring
my outrage at their preemptive ...
at the top of the slide
I glare at the line of children
chanting up at me
cry baby, cry baby, cry baby
cry baby, cry baby, cry baby
blue tears blur crimson rage
cry baby, cry baby, cry baby
the yellow-mouthed woman
has organized this attack
in retaliation for my outburst
towards a hay-haired miniature
demagogue and her pride of
speech-impaired lackeys
that rendered them confused,
floundering over one another
as I rushed at them roaring
my outrage at their preemptive ...
#childhood
#memories
#nostalgia
1 read
0 Comments
brokentitanium
Published
Yesterday 11:55pm
Yesterday 11:55pm
×××
I miss your feedback
You have such an awesome mind
That's the beer talking
You have such an awesome mind
That's the beer talking
#friendship
#alcohol
#IMissYou
4 reads
6 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Published
Yesterday 11:54pm
Yesterday 11:54pm
not easy on the train ..
why would I buy you flowers when
you deserve trees and what do you
mean where have I've been trying to get
this bleedin' oak home for hours ..
you deserve trees and what do you
mean where have I've been trying to get
this bleedin' oak home for hours ..
#love
#ImSorry
#trees
#flowers
#travel
2 reads
1 Comment
Lazarus_Rabinowitz
Published
Yesterday 11:54pm
Yesterday 11:54pm
Squall
it was storming that day
none of us kids would stay
on our cots for nap time
the woman wanted us to sleep
she smelled like cigarettes and
sounded like a creaky door
when she spoke
she and her old man were arguing
- he wanted to let us get up,
but she wanted her smoke break
she went back and forth between
berating him in loud whispers
and shouting for us to lie back down
he had a long, bushy grey beard
and an angry voice even when he
was attempting to sound kind
he wore short-sleeved button-down ...
none of us kids would stay
on our cots for nap time
the woman wanted us to sleep
she smelled like cigarettes and
sounded like a creaky door
when she spoke
she and her old man were arguing
- he wanted to let us get up,
but she wanted her smoke break
she went back and forth between
berating him in loud whispers
and shouting for us to lie back down
he had a long, bushy grey beard
and an angry voice even when he
was attempting to sound kind
he wore short-sleeved button-down ...
#childhood
#memories
#nostalgia
1 read
0 Comments
RagingFlames
Published
Yesterday 11:37pm
Yesterday 11:37pm
My favorite person
Who was that girl that you were dancing with at prom three years ago?”
She was looking at me just as much as I was at her.
Was she jealous?
“Why’d you pick our song to play too?”
Was she really jealous even though she had a boyfriend?
I picked the song because I knew it would trigger memories... (for me)
She didn’t even dance when that song came on...
We dated in middle school...
For a few weeks...
She’s so fucking adorable...☺️
I just wish that I could see her more
But college has her occupied
I...
She was looking at me just as much as I was at her.
Was she jealous?
“Why’d you pick our song to play too?”
Was she really jealous even though she had a boyfriend?
I picked the song because I knew it would trigger memories... (for me)
She didn’t even dance when that song came on...
We dated in middle school...
For a few weeks...
She’s so fucking adorable...☺️
I just wish that I could see her more
But college has her occupied
I...
#love
#FallingInLove
#FirstLove
1 read
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Published
Yesterday 11:30pm
Yesterday 11:30pm
Blue Flies Buzz
Blue Flies Buzz
Dusky sepia blues for tenement ghosts
Where flies buzz on wings of a graveyard
Under the chrysanthemum light
Whose faded poker plays like a ragtime melody
With the Mrs. toking on opium
In the backroom where her kisses cost a dime
While the smoke antes her up
And raises her bet by a Magdalene mile
Easy as Sunday when praline boyfriends
Were gentleman callers
Decked in one-eyed-jack suits
With pockets full of candy promise
To be made good when the depression
Settles into a murky haze
Left...
Dusky sepia blues for tenement ghosts
Where flies buzz on wings of a graveyard
Under the chrysanthemum light
Whose faded poker plays like a ragtime melody
With the Mrs. toking on opium
In the backroom where her kisses cost a dime
While the smoke antes her up
And raises her bet by a Magdalene mile
Easy as Sunday when praline boyfriends
Were gentleman callers
Decked in one-eyed-jack suits
With pockets full of candy promise
To be made good when the depression
Settles into a murky haze
Left...
#sex
#drugs
#poverty
5 reads
0 Comments
LIFE4ME
Published
Yesterday 10:48pm
Yesterday 10:48pm
Silent Night
Although, the lids of my eyes weigh heavily upon me, my eyes remain unclosed,
as sleep escapes me.
After many restless nights of laying in silent darkness, I hear a malicious voice, within the space of my ears, softly whispering, "kill, kill, kill."
I scan the darkness surrounding me.
All is pitch black.
Shuddering frantically, I cry, "whose there?
Show yourself."
The voice of silent darkness has no reply.
Suddenly, A thin web of light reflects off the glass; finding itself staring deep into the eyes of a remorseful figure.
as sleep escapes me.
After many restless nights of laying in silent darkness, I hear a malicious voice, within the space of my ears, softly whispering, "kill, kill, kill."
I scan the darkness surrounding me.
All is pitch black.
Shuddering frantically, I cry, "whose there?
Show yourself."
The voice of silent darkness has no reply.
Suddenly, A thin web of light reflects off the glass; finding itself staring deep into the eyes of a remorseful figure.
#dark
#spiritual
#ShortStory
7 reads
0 Comments
EdibleWords
Published
Yesterday 10:44pm
Yesterday 10:44pm
Too Super, Girl!
She couldn't catch...
Faster than bulletrains
Faster than bulletrains
#heartbroken
10 reads
2 Comments
EdibleWords
Published
Yesterday 10:11pm
Yesterday 10:11pm
Medicine Chest (on the fruitility of poetry)
In the cool cellar here
fermented select words
like fine whine
Poured from stingy bottles
uncorked for your eyes
finally
Might be mistaken
for actual guiser
Illusion
When instead
they are blood read
medicine fountains
only poured out
seasonally
These are great fruit
crazy winter wonders
mere servings
Finding sun
in sour squeezes
by the glass
at the underground bar
fermented select words
like fine whine
Poured from stingy bottles
uncorked for your eyes
finally
Might be mistaken
for actual guiser
Illusion
When instead
they are blood read
medicine fountains
only poured out
seasonally
These are great fruit
crazy winter wonders
mere servings
Finding sun
in sour squeezes
by the glass
at the underground bar
#WritingPoetry
7 reads
4 Comments
Lozzamus
Published
Yesterday 10:10pm
Yesterday 10:10pm
Trauma, Aged 10
They say a group of teenagers saw me on the field that August Bank Holiday Monday. One called over, asked if I was all right. I didn't answer, apparently. Just continued stumbling in the direction of home, sweat dripping from my face. The teenagers didn't hang around. They assumed I had sunstroke. If I had seen myself, I would have probably thought the same.
Others noticed me wandering along the main road towards the estate where we lived. Drinkers in the pub watched me stagger like a drunk. I continued walking. Up the hill, through a ginnel, past the church. Down the hill, along...
Others noticed me wandering along the main road towards the estate where we lived. Drinkers in the pub watched me stagger like a drunk. I continued walking. Up the hill, through a ginnel, past the church. Down the hill, along...
#anxiety
#violence
#confusion
9 reads
2 Comments
The_Starstruck
Published
Yesterday 10:03pm
Yesterday 10:03pm
Diary 1
I wonder what's its like without PTSD. Is it calmer? Are there less shadows or are they just different ones? Can you walk down the street without peering over your shoulder at every sound? Waiting until he shows his face to you and finish what was started. Do you live without thinking of all the ways someone could attack you. How no one would help you.I suppose I will likely never know. Unable to shake off the constant sludge of this disease and walking through life desperately pretending to not see the darkness in your eyes every time you pass a mirror. Maybe I'll ask my dad
#memories
#FeelingLost
#SelfDiscovery
4 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems: all the latest poetry at Deep Underground Poetry
