Least Read Story Poems
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poetry about Dreams, Fantasy and Fiction
Find an undiscovered masterpiece in the DU Poetry least read poems.
Cyndi_Moone
Poem Published
22nd Jun 2018 11:20pm
22nd Jun 2018 11:20pm
SLEEPAWAKEALOMA
i]/sleep-uh-wake-uh-low-mah/
verb - as in psychiatry:
-The subtle act of harming or taking one’s own life or the life of another - or other living beings - while in a deep state of unconsciousness – as one who sleepwalks. - [/i]
Awakening from slumber, I rise from the bed
One glance out the window, the moon glows red.
Digital time stopped ticking at six-six-six.
At a far-off distance, faucet runs drip-drip-drip.
A look at my hands, bathed in blood
Following footprint-trails of dirt and mud. ...
verb - as in psychiatry:
-The subtle act of harming or taking one’s own life or the life of another - or other living beings - while in a deep state of unconsciousness – as one who sleepwalks. - [/i]
Awakening from slumber, I rise from the bed
One glance out the window, the moon glows red.
Digital time stopped ticking at six-six-six.
At a far-off distance, faucet runs drip-drip-drip.
A look at my hands, bathed in blood
Following footprint-trails of dirt and mud. ...
#dark
#confusion
16 reads
4 Comments
slipalong
Poem Published
14th Sep 2020 8:58am
14th Sep 2020 8:58am
The grand master
The white knight on a trusty steed
that can leap and jump with ease
and bow and scrape to kings and queens
the white or black pawns born lesbians
or be gay and not be prude
in that advance be misconstrued
taken down by the dirty rook
trapped and couldn't cock a snook
or bishop that has been defrocked
and left exposed by his own flock
soon castled, a defensive move
threaten, and to be repelled
blood was spilt as the pieces fell
the war it raged between white and black
casualties in piles were stacked
sacrificed to...
that can leap and jump with ease
and bow and scrape to kings and queens
the white or black pawns born lesbians
or be gay and not be prude
in that advance be misconstrued
taken down by the dirty rook
trapped and couldn't cock a snook
or bishop that has been defrocked
and left exposed by his own flock
soon castled, a defensive move
threaten, and to be repelled
blood was spilt as the pieces fell
the war it raged between white and black
casualties in piles were stacked
sacrificed to...
#sports
19 reads
0 Comments
Evan_De_la_Vinia
Poem Published
26th Sep 2020 12:04pm
26th Sep 2020 12:04pm
Pillow
Skinny bones, fat pay checks
We had too much of that stuff
You said you were under stress
So I offered you a pillow
Pillow baby make me go
Make me leave this house
Still I'd love a good show
Wouldn't want to miss a second
Rest now, let it fall
Look down my aim and see
I'll be taken, I'll be yours
If you show up in my dream
Safe house, right here
We went up the floors
Drink tray always near
Everything is crystal clear
Slow kissing, pillow beauty
I've been feeling like a...
We had too much of that stuff
You said you were under stress
So I offered you a pillow
Pillow baby make me go
Make me leave this house
Still I'd love a good show
Wouldn't want to miss a second
Rest now, let it fall
Look down my aim and see
I'll be taken, I'll be yours
If you show up in my dream
Safe house, right here
We went up the floors
Drink tray always near
Everything is crystal clear
Slow kissing, pillow beauty
I've been feeling like a...
#death
#alcohol
#drugs
#passion
#emotions
20 reads
0 Comments
Cyndi_Moone
Poem Published
27th Jun 2018 6:53am
27th Jun 2018 6:53am
Dance of the Dead
Peering out the old cottage window, facing the cemetery across the street
Bored with nothing to do, to go, and no one to meet.
The pale moon shines full and bright with no clouds to cover.
The night breeze gently blows-open the shutters;
it’s a perfect night for such a long summer.
Grandpa’s old clock strikes at midnight; without expecting anything spectacular
I take, in my hands, grandpa’s bird-watching binoculars. ...
Bored with nothing to do, to go, and no one to meet.
The pale moon shines full and bright with no clouds to cover.
The night breeze gently blows-open the shutters;
it’s a perfect night for such a long summer.
Grandpa’s old clock strikes at midnight; without expecting anything spectacular
I take, in my hands, grandpa’s bird-watching binoculars. ...
#ghosts
#nightmares
21 reads
6 Comments
SociableIntrovert
Poem Published
22nd Sep 2020 1:38am
22nd Sep 2020 1:38am
The Dance of Death
The sound of steel crunches through the grass.
Two men, fully encased in armor pace in a circle, staring at each other with their blades out and at the ready for the right moment to strike the other.
Their bodies shaped in a way to signal to the world that they are ready to fight and if necessary die.
Their faces, although covered in steel masks, give off a sort of confidence and a sign that these two are not going to give in into cowardice and run, even though in the moment they both know only one will live while the other will perish.
As time keeps on passing, the...
Two men, fully encased in armor pace in a circle, staring at each other with their blades out and at the ready for the right moment to strike the other.
Their bodies shaped in a way to signal to the world that they are ready to fight and if necessary die.
Their faces, although covered in steel masks, give off a sort of confidence and a sign that these two are not going to give in into cowardice and run, even though in the moment they both know only one will live while the other will perish.
As time keeps on passing, the...
#violence
21 reads
0 Comments
MJ-SWIM
Poem Published
25th Sep 2020 6:21am
25th Sep 2020 6:21am
In the woods Ch. III Part I
A quick hop over a segment of guard railing along the highway was the first step towards sudden, painful death or massively good fortune. Along the horizon were countless miles of tall buildings and cold, dead highway; to me it looked like death itself. I knew the path I had taken to the woods well, well enough to backtrack to my last destination; and with a little walking down the embankment of the highway I found myself down in the old railyard near the industrial area of the city. I had to be careful now, these warehouses are used a lot by the Butcher's Union; who are now little more than...
#apocalypse
#dystopian
21 reads
1 Comment
MJ-SWIM
Poem Published
25th Sep 2020 8:28am
25th Sep 2020 8:28am
In the woods Ch. III Part II
The shambling nightmare of a man balled his withered hands into fists and a cacophony of sickening snaps cascaded out into my ears, his bloody red eye piercing into me as I scrambled backwards; cutting strips from my skin onto the jagged rocks below. As I shied away in fear the sick man knocked his jaws closed, chipping whole pieces off of his snarling teeth as blood foamed from his mouth, dripping down all over both him and the ground. The knife had fallen from my grasp as I tripped so clumsily, and it was clear before my eyes just where it had fell upon the ground; right between the...
#apocalypse
#dystopian
23 reads
0 Comments
miseryomy
Poem Published
14th Sep 2020 6:14pm
14th Sep 2020 6:14pm
A luminous light called death
Could you see that light? The one when you die?
I’ve seen it six times and believe it or not I’m still alive.
Maybe like a cat and I have nine lives to waste away.
Perhaps I’m stuck in a limbo and never get past today.
The light is a color beyond comprehension and thought.
Much deeper than a man made explanation you were taught.
It feels so good here like being back in the womb and aware.
Without notice then back to life just like that, it’s hardly any fair.
Can you see that light? Because I just killed you.
After this suicide it will be my...
I’ve seen it six times and believe it or not I’m still alive.
Maybe like a cat and I have nine lives to waste away.
Perhaps I’m stuck in a limbo and never get past today.
The light is a color beyond comprehension and thought.
Much deeper than a man made explanation you were taught.
It feels so good here like being back in the womb and aware.
Without notice then back to life just like that, it’s hardly any fair.
Can you see that light? Because I just killed you.
After this suicide it will be my...
#sadness
#dark
#confusion
#emptiness
#fear
25 reads
0 Comments
I_IS_ME
Poem Published
21st Sep 2020 5:07am
21st Sep 2020 5:07am
Gave At The Office
I'm the only motherfucker you know that's worse than Action Jackson
Shaft standing between fucking two atoms smashing
Compared to me the big bang explosion was simply an explosive fraction
I'm Chernobyl on crack, I'm several fucking nuclear reactions
Somebody got mad because several fucking dealers got robbed
Bitches patroling the hood ready to squad and mob
Are they forgetting what the fuck these bitches do for a living
Have they forgotten how many innocent babies are no longer among the living
Fucking bandwagon bitches ready to fucking...
Shaft standing between fucking two atoms smashing
Compared to me the big bang explosion was simply an explosive fraction
I'm Chernobyl on crack, I'm several fucking nuclear reactions
Somebody got mad because several fucking dealers got robbed
Bitches patroling the hood ready to squad and mob
Are they forgetting what the fuck these bitches do for a living
Have they forgotten how many innocent babies are no longer among the living
Fucking bandwagon bitches ready to fucking...
#anger
#violence
#narrative
26 reads
0 Comments
hgnichols
Poem Published
26th Sep 2020 1:27am
26th Sep 2020 1:27am
Canto IX: The Hunt Continues
We wandered North, in slow pursuit of them,
half hindered by the shaky ground between
our friendship, half by dehydration-pain.
Before much time had passed we found the signs
of their society. We ventured forth.
I welcomed that reprieve adrenaline
provides from thought and ache as we became
adjusted to the business of the hunt.
The vision of the blackened babe erased,
I turned my thoughts to tracks and scents and gut.
An hour passed us, neither spoke but let
the forest music fill the space between.
We needed only one Wolf...
half hindered by the shaky ground between
our friendship, half by dehydration-pain.
Before much time had passed we found the signs
of their society. We ventured forth.
I welcomed that reprieve adrenaline
provides from thought and ache as we became
adjusted to the business of the hunt.
The vision of the blackened babe erased,
I turned my thoughts to tracks and scents and gut.
An hour passed us, neither spoke but let
the forest music fill the space between.
We needed only one Wolf...
#regret
#friendship
#food
#greed
#poverty
26 reads
2 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
14th Feb 2019 00:13am
14th Feb 2019 00:13am
the beat of the flats
the veil of the clock drops
along rungs of the shying sun
the day’s final crackling
swings an off switch
propel a toe to heel back to front
onto a still pulsation of pagan rope
fire fingers wildness, water palms stacco
earth hairs happenstance, air limbs bright
upon an unbearable openness
as stars dip scooping land
love to our own devices
that drive neon masks breathless stomp vibratoless
I am the Gnome when digging the Foxes
I be the Tinkerbell guide to...
along rungs of the shying sun
the day’s final crackling
swings an off switch
propel a toe to heel back to front
onto a still pulsation of pagan rope
fire fingers wildness, water palms stacco
earth hairs happenstance, air limbs bright
upon an unbearable openness
as stars dip scooping land
love to our own devices
that drive neon masks breathless stomp vibratoless
I am the Gnome when digging the Foxes
I be the Tinkerbell guide to...
#PopCulture
#pagan
#magic #dance
#magic #dance
27 reads
18 Comments
miseryomy
Poem Published
8th Sep 2020 10:34pm
8th Sep 2020 10:34pm
A fear in the mirror game (A pt.4 in my study)
The fourth time revisiting my study and everything lay in wait.
A quick glance bounces from the mirror to knife now in debate.
My cold frail hands rest on the back of my antique chair.
A walk around than sitting tossing my top hat with no care.
A drink was poured, that old familiar smell, 99 proof tears.
A whisk of the pen tattering at my paper revealing my fears.
A fear of self aggression, the self inflicted pain.
And that fear of being different, almost insane.
That fear of knowing they're here now watching.
That fear of once again my...
A quick glance bounces from the mirror to knife now in debate.
My cold frail hands rest on the back of my antique chair.
A walk around than sitting tossing my top hat with no care.
A drink was poured, that old familiar smell, 99 proof tears.
A whisk of the pen tattering at my paper revealing my fears.
A fear of self aggression, the self inflicted pain.
And that fear of being different, almost insane.
That fear of knowing they're here now watching.
That fear of once again my...
#sadness
#loneliness
#dark
#despair
#fear
27 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Least Read Story Poems about Dreams, Fantasy and Fiction
