You, Yourself
DCLXVI_1989
Garrett Asa Hughes
Forum Posts: 88
Garrett Asa Hughes
Thought Provoker
4
Joined 17th Aug 2017Forum Posts: 88
Poetry Contest Description
Your favorite poem you've written.
The one that says your name.
The one that when you reread, is the most fun, inspired, raw, or impresses yourself.
Your top dawg numero uno.
I hate to make this a competition honestly, but i would love to see the best of the best by the best (Which is all of you) all in one place.
Maybe for my own awe or inspiration. Maybe for yours as well. But very much for, so as i can further envelope myself in this great community. Thank you.
"Another one of the old poets, whose name has escaped my memory at present, called Truth the daughter of Time."
Aulus Gellius (125 AD – after 180 AD)
The one that when you reread, is the most fun, inspired, raw, or impresses yourself.
Your top dawg numero uno.
I hate to make this a competition honestly, but i would love to see the best of the best by the best (Which is all of you) all in one place.
Maybe for my own awe or inspiration. Maybe for yours as well. But very much for, so as i can further envelope myself in this great community. Thank you.
"Another one of the old poets, whose name has escaped my memory at present, called Truth the daughter of Time."
Aulus Gellius (125 AD – after 180 AD)
DCLXVI_1989
Garrett Asa Hughes
Forum Posts: 88
Garrett Asa Hughes
Thought Provoker
4
Joined 17th Aug 2017Forum Posts: 88
Non-Existant
The anti-liar -
You claim resides in fire -
Teach yourself to be held higher -
By the will of your desire -
Not pray to nonsense golden spires -
Disregard all lies from the choir -
Be your own knowledge igniter -
Always question, never tire -
They say beware the demon -
For it holds the keys to freedom -
And if you speak against, it's treason -
You fear they'll label you a heathen?-
Well my friend, it's passed, that season
Give me one logical reason -
Why you continue to try and please them -
If god spoke direct, I still would not believe him -
Hide behind your cross shit -
The bible holds you hostage -
To believe means you have lost it -
Belief system that is caustic -
Poison words that spit out toxic -
Spoken by, your held high, false prophets -
Learn of truth and what is honest -
Then you'll see you are unharnessed -
When one last time you close your eyes-
To find nothing of promised paradise -
Yet you continue to sacrifice -
Your entire wasted, discarded lives -
Begging to lords just like a peasant -
In time of death you will regret it -
Until your gods repent -
For being fraudulent -
Instead it's the Earth that's inherited the meek -
As you fight over mythical beliefs -
Following falsity, not truth you seek -
Whatever happens to come most easily-
Herded like some kind of fuckin' sheep-
Needing to be looked after weak -
Truth to them is heresy -
If that's the case, beware of me -
While you point hypocritical fingers -
At any and all non-believers -
I challenge you to instead delve deeper
Becoming your own truth seeker -
For fear of mortality -
Seems you have lost all sanity -
As they have skewed totality -
god's unneeded for morality -
Listen to what i say -
Live your life not for a grave -
Just acting good for heavens sake -
As if it's needed to behave -
If not free, you are a slave -
Only through self, can you be saved -
Do not fear a god of rage -
Punishing all for his mistakes
You claim resides in fire -
Teach yourself to be held higher -
By the will of your desire -
Not pray to nonsense golden spires -
Disregard all lies from the choir -
Be your own knowledge igniter -
Always question, never tire -
They say beware the demon -
For it holds the keys to freedom -
And if you speak against, it's treason -
You fear they'll label you a heathen?-
Well my friend, it's passed, that season
Give me one logical reason -
Why you continue to try and please them -
If god spoke direct, I still would not believe him -
Hide behind your cross shit -
The bible holds you hostage -
To believe means you have lost it -
Belief system that is caustic -
Poison words that spit out toxic -
Spoken by, your held high, false prophets -
Learn of truth and what is honest -
Then you'll see you are unharnessed -
When one last time you close your eyes-
To find nothing of promised paradise -
Yet you continue to sacrifice -
Your entire wasted, discarded lives -
Begging to lords just like a peasant -
In time of death you will regret it -
Until your gods repent -
For being fraudulent -
Instead it's the Earth that's inherited the meek -
As you fight over mythical beliefs -
Following falsity, not truth you seek -
Whatever happens to come most easily-
Herded like some kind of fuckin' sheep-
Needing to be looked after weak -
Truth to them is heresy -
If that's the case, beware of me -
While you point hypocritical fingers -
At any and all non-believers -
I challenge you to instead delve deeper
Becoming your own truth seeker -
For fear of mortality -
Seems you have lost all sanity -
As they have skewed totality -
god's unneeded for morality -
Listen to what i say -
Live your life not for a grave -
Just acting good for heavens sake -
As if it's needed to behave -
If not free, you are a slave -
Only through self, can you be saved -
Do not fear a god of rage -
Punishing all for his mistakes
Written by DCLXVI_1989
(Garrett Asa Hughes)
Go To Page
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
Deceptive Fraud
I illuminate my mind with devoted logic
Never again will I passively ascribe
to temporal promised salvation
I cleanse my eyes with holy water
ridding myself of pining reverie
Fake cult with fakest prophet
phony zealot, trickster- leader
Your immaculate love for all
utterly rank, tainted sanctimony
cherished creed an evil chimera
Multitudes adore, worship you
Impoverished individuals fall
face down to the ground
still giving beyond their means
hoping for a sliver of affection
You preach acceptance, love
Be kind to all best as you can.
Everyone is so equal, so special.
That’s the rancid snake oil you sell!
Those able to purchase your favors?
evidently are just a bit more beloved.
You weep bloody crocodile’s tears
as dejected devotees, many deprived,
of any way to reach your affections
depart, feeling worse than before.
Disillusioned, distraught, denied of
pure friendship gospel, benevolence.
Salvation for love-starved lonely souls
Your liturgy, your anthems, your smile
sickened so many sorrowful spirits.
Answer me this, big-tent showman
how do you meet your gaze in the mirror?
When your eyes reflect the lies told
to get your filthy tickets and trinkets sold?
Your mouth spills out lies and cries
of being oh-so misunderstood
I heard you mighty fine, sinnerman
you just can’t deceive anymore.
I am onto your wicked design.
Don't think I won't call for curtain
showing all the one behind the scam
Innocent people, looking for scraps
of love, kindness, acceptance fall
for your good looks and pretty words
We all want to feel special somehow.
To prey on the young and innocent
is a heinous crime you can never undo.
But I, once inside, who chose to leave
can rescue poor unfortunate souls
Show them the mirror of purest truth
That their self-worth, respect, esteem
priceless to them, is worth pennies to you.
Never again will I passively ascribe
to temporal promised salvation
I cleanse my eyes with holy water
ridding myself of pining reverie
Fake cult with fakest prophet
phony zealot, trickster- leader
Your immaculate love for all
utterly rank, tainted sanctimony
cherished creed an evil chimera
Multitudes adore, worship you
Impoverished individuals fall
face down to the ground
still giving beyond their means
hoping for a sliver of affection
You preach acceptance, love
Be kind to all best as you can.
Everyone is so equal, so special.
That’s the rancid snake oil you sell!
Those able to purchase your favors?
evidently are just a bit more beloved.
You weep bloody crocodile’s tears
as dejected devotees, many deprived,
of any way to reach your affections
depart, feeling worse than before.
Disillusioned, distraught, denied of
pure friendship gospel, benevolence.
Salvation for love-starved lonely souls
Your liturgy, your anthems, your smile
sickened so many sorrowful spirits.
Answer me this, big-tent showman
how do you meet your gaze in the mirror?
When your eyes reflect the lies told
to get your filthy tickets and trinkets sold?
Your mouth spills out lies and cries
of being oh-so misunderstood
I heard you mighty fine, sinnerman
you just can’t deceive anymore.
I am onto your wicked design.
Don't think I won't call for curtain
showing all the one behind the scam
Innocent people, looking for scraps
of love, kindness, acceptance fall
for your good looks and pretty words
We all want to feel special somehow.
To prey on the young and innocent
is a heinous crime you can never undo.
But I, once inside, who chose to leave
can rescue poor unfortunate souls
Show them the mirror of purest truth
That their self-worth, respect, esteem
priceless to them, is worth pennies to you.
Written by inechoingsilence
Go To Page
mysteriouslady
Forum Posts: 2638
Tyrant of Words
15
Joined 11th Aug 2012Forum Posts: 2638
A description of me, as what I think I could be, if I were a Poet
lay it all down
steadily
heavily
make em hot
or maybe not
while they feel and read
make em all internally bleed
when they reveal
knowing the feel
of drugs, sex
and fuckin rock n roll
as feelings take their toll
not making a claim
feelin like much less
than any fame
really kinda fucking lame
then theres hearts
maybe dead flowers
making me wanna hollar
what the fuck is this
is there something I missed
inner turmoil and emotions
being spewed and hissed
when all we want is to be cherished
at special times
like with a master and his whip
or a deep orgasm's afterglow
especially when
that four letter word "love"
is tossed around like a salad
on a hot summer's sweaty eve
did I say I was hungry muther fucker?
lay it all down
steadily
heavily
make em hot
or maybe not
while they feel and read
make em all internally bleed
when they reveal
knowing the feel
of drugs, sex
and fuckin rock n roll
as feelings take their toll
not making a claim
feelin like much less
than any fame
really kinda fucking lame
then theres hearts
maybe dead flowers
making me wanna hollar
what the fuck is this
is there something I missed
inner turmoil and emotions
being spewed and hissed
when all we want is to be cherished
at special times
like with a master and his whip
or a deep orgasm's afterglow
especially when
that four letter word "love"
is tossed around like a salad
on a hot summer's sweaty eve
did I say I was hungry muther fucker?
hinescourtney801
Courtneyy
Joined 17th July 2019
Forum Posts: 15
Courtneyy
Lost Thinker
Forum Posts: 15
Her
Her presence grants me a serenity i cant explain.
My cheek bones weak at the sound of her name.
I try to erase thoughts of her, but my mind’s defiant.
i want her, but cant have her, im fighting my feelings in silence.
She pays close attention, one thing we have in common.
I want to act on my intuition, but i need to proceed with caution.
Her heart seems generous, kind and true..
A more intimate relation could be taboo.
Im becoming nervous when she's in my space..
like when your mom calls your full name and your heart begins to race.
Her crown made of dreadlocks, just like mine.
A waterfall cascading her back, i envy them caressing her spine.
Her spirit subtle, but i can't but notice.
She makes my mental scrabble, i can't keep my focus.
I want to taste her lips, but i dont think it'll come to pass..
If given the chance i wouldn't surpass.
To cuddle and watch films, netflix and chill.
No pressure or persuasion I want her, to want me at her own free-will.
I know this may only be fiction and fantasy..
Maybe one day, we run away and make it a reality.
©️Courtney Hines
My cheek bones weak at the sound of her name.
I try to erase thoughts of her, but my mind’s defiant.
i want her, but cant have her, im fighting my feelings in silence.
She pays close attention, one thing we have in common.
I want to act on my intuition, but i need to proceed with caution.
Her heart seems generous, kind and true..
A more intimate relation could be taboo.
Im becoming nervous when she's in my space..
like when your mom calls your full name and your heart begins to race.
Her crown made of dreadlocks, just like mine.
A waterfall cascading her back, i envy them caressing her spine.
Her spirit subtle, but i can't but notice.
She makes my mental scrabble, i can't keep my focus.
I want to taste her lips, but i dont think it'll come to pass..
If given the chance i wouldn't surpass.
To cuddle and watch films, netflix and chill.
No pressure or persuasion I want her, to want me at her own free-will.
I know this may only be fiction and fantasy..
Maybe one day, we run away and make it a reality.
©️Courtney Hines
Written by hinescourtney801
(Courtneyy)
Go To Page
LUUH19
Emeraldia
Joined 5th Aug 2014
Forum Posts: 72
Emeraldia
Thought Provoker
Forum Posts: 72
Bird
He was fucking him?!
She started laughing at her husband like he was a comic
he choked her till she stopped
breathing into her lungs
couldn't bear the itching truth anymore that she never loved him
looking into her eyes as she walked in and saw them
he was caught by surprise when she started laughing like a child
then the surprise turned to rage
he couldn't make her feel betrayed
he couldn't make her feel anything
the last time he fucked her, cat was made
he was curiously engorged with furor
he wanted her to feel
how she made him feel for the last faded years
and in that split second, he was a puppet to the devil
the love couldn't stop the once sealed up core hatred
releasing it in a single moment
her eyelids opened wide, her face was blood shot red
she stared at him with a suffocating voice
but she didn't struggle
as if this was better than the life she was living
now in a freezer with her eyes still open
her coldness within matching her skin
she despised her teenage daughter
she saw her as her stolen youth was found on her
she saw him as nothing
her husband noticed it but he said nothing
she didn't love him, both knew that and they told kat
Kat was fucking the front door neighbor
and he was caught fucking her father.
She started laughing at her husband like he was a comic
he choked her till she stopped
breathing into her lungs
couldn't bear the itching truth anymore that she never loved him
looking into her eyes as she walked in and saw them
he was caught by surprise when she started laughing like a child
then the surprise turned to rage
he couldn't make her feel betrayed
he couldn't make her feel anything
the last time he fucked her, cat was made
he was curiously engorged with furor
he wanted her to feel
how she made him feel for the last faded years
and in that split second, he was a puppet to the devil
the love couldn't stop the once sealed up core hatred
releasing it in a single moment
her eyelids opened wide, her face was blood shot red
she stared at him with a suffocating voice
but she didn't struggle
as if this was better than the life she was living
now in a freezer with her eyes still open
her coldness within matching her skin
she despised her teenage daughter
she saw her as her stolen youth was found on her
she saw him as nothing
her husband noticed it but he said nothing
she didn't love him, both knew that and they told kat
Kat was fucking the front door neighbor
and he was caught fucking her father.
Written by LUUH19
(Emeraldia)
Go To Page
LUUH19
Emeraldia
Joined 5th Aug 2014
Forum Posts: 72
Emeraldia
Thought Provoker
Forum Posts: 72
Forget this one, it's not my numero uno. I will post my favorite one that I know by heart.
LUUH19
Emeraldia
Joined 5th Aug 2014
Forum Posts: 72
Emeraldia
Thought Provoker
Forum Posts: 72
Revolver
If I wither away with every last fall of the autumn leaves
I will come back with winter to see no change
In the metamorphosis of no evolution
The after burn jejune escalading to nowhere
Putrid smell concentrated of the platitude
We are still in our mother's womb
Trying to envisage utopia, but living a life of decadence
Cradled with fluids that support us
Dependent, waiting to be fed
I hate the smell of the swamp, full of dead hope
Every day it thickens, altering nothing
Forgotten as the elixirs before it
Spitted out as sputum by the ones on the throne
They are playing psychopaths to our form
If I die today, it will be my fall
But tomorrow is today
Immortal stuck on the lone brick mind
Nothing to be noticed
A mutation that has been removed
Immature, their sense of state
Greedy minds, they populate
A never ending replication
A defect with no cure
Always change being a no
Déjà vu will be the eyes worst foe.
I will come back with winter to see no change
In the metamorphosis of no evolution
The after burn jejune escalading to nowhere
Putrid smell concentrated of the platitude
We are still in our mother's womb
Trying to envisage utopia, but living a life of decadence
Cradled with fluids that support us
Dependent, waiting to be fed
I hate the smell of the swamp, full of dead hope
Every day it thickens, altering nothing
Forgotten as the elixirs before it
Spitted out as sputum by the ones on the throne
They are playing psychopaths to our form
If I die today, it will be my fall
But tomorrow is today
Immortal stuck on the lone brick mind
Nothing to be noticed
A mutation that has been removed
Immature, their sense of state
Greedy minds, they populate
A never ending replication
A defect with no cure
Always change being a no
Déjà vu will be the eyes worst foe.
Written by LUUH19
(Emeraldia)
Go To Page
spacemod69
Joined 13th May 2019
Forum Posts: 8
Twisted Dreamer
Forum Posts: 8
Why Do I Love You
Why do I love you?
Is it because of how you look?
You are beautiful from head to toe
In every cranny and nook
Your loveliness shone out to me
From the first time we met
That feeling's only grown stronger
It hasn't left me yet
Why do I love you?
Is it because of how you feel
Your outpouring of emotions
That you release with zeal
You have the biggest, sweetest heart
That is overflowed with love
Giving to all and everyone
Wanting help from no man's glove
Why do I love you?
Is it because of how you think
Never afraid to self-express
Against some other click
The values that you hold close
Make you the woman that you are
Out there amongst the millions
The brightest shining star
Why do I love you?
It's because of all of this and more
You are the key that went into my lock
To open up my door
The piece of missing jigsaw
That made my picture whole
I love you always, every day
With all my heart and soul
Written by spacemod69
Go To Page
wallyroo92
Forum Posts: 1858
Tyrant of Words
153
Joined 11th July 2012Forum Posts: 1858
A Road of Metaphors
My poetry has been a disguise of phantoms and recollections,
Fantasies fused with realities and some differences I can’t tell,
They’ve been obscure secrets escaped through innuendos,
Implicitly in coded language loaded with ghostly bombshells.
And some never went off…
It’s been a road of metaphors filled with similes and analogies,
Allusions to the illusions of the near madness that I bore,
Allegories of the freed confined mind resigned to stay silent,
Yet a little bit of it bled through the wounds and on to the floor.
They’ve been the expressions of lonely glumly feelings,
Endless streams of daydreams of my subconscious thought,
Reveries of love and anger ranging from passion to languor,
To euphoric epiphanies and revelations I used to plot.
It’s the journal to my life’s story without the fame or glory,
The reflection and hindsight to the past I sometimes forget,
Comical chronicles of the years, some of laughter, some of tears
And of the paths overlooked and chosen, and people I met.
I go back and read about:
Fifteen year old me and how silly I used to be,
Twenty year old me and how naïve I was back then,
Thirty year old me and how lost and scared I was,
Present old me and how I’m still trying to reach my Zen.
And I wonder about older me and if I’ll be a little wiser,
Maybe senile, maybe shrewd, perhaps ruthless and yet calm,
Writing better then old times dropping nuclear power rhymes,
Maybe then my message will come across louder than any bomb.
Fantasies fused with realities and some differences I can’t tell,
They’ve been obscure secrets escaped through innuendos,
Implicitly in coded language loaded with ghostly bombshells.
And some never went off…
It’s been a road of metaphors filled with similes and analogies,
Allusions to the illusions of the near madness that I bore,
Allegories of the freed confined mind resigned to stay silent,
Yet a little bit of it bled through the wounds and on to the floor.
They’ve been the expressions of lonely glumly feelings,
Endless streams of daydreams of my subconscious thought,
Reveries of love and anger ranging from passion to languor,
To euphoric epiphanies and revelations I used to plot.
It’s the journal to my life’s story without the fame or glory,
The reflection and hindsight to the past I sometimes forget,
Comical chronicles of the years, some of laughter, some of tears
And of the paths overlooked and chosen, and people I met.
I go back and read about:
Fifteen year old me and how silly I used to be,
Twenty year old me and how naïve I was back then,
Thirty year old me and how lost and scared I was,
Present old me and how I’m still trying to reach my Zen.
And I wonder about older me and if I’ll be a little wiser,
Maybe senile, maybe shrewd, perhaps ruthless and yet calm,
Writing better then old times dropping nuclear power rhymes,
Maybe then my message will come across louder than any bomb.
Written by wallyroo92
Go To Page
Layla
Forum Posts: 1216
Fire of Insight
7
Joined 3rd May 2018Forum Posts: 1216
Related submission no longer exists.
AspergerPoet56
Forum Posts: 1898
Tyrant of Words
33
Joined 4th Dec 2018Forum Posts: 1898
A Fingerprint A Unique Stain
It’s autistic pollution
A new world evolution
Forget normal
We are the new viral strain
A fingerprint a unique stain
As the zombies fight to find a cure
Our genes are the ones pure
Tried to outcast the strange
Gave us all a label
No comprise on the table
We imagine more than you think
Maybe a mutant link
Alien first contact
We where cut against the grain
That rewired our brain
When humanity has leapt forward
Autism was given no credit or reward
Seen as the burden
Einstein, Jobs, Turing ripped up convention
They left the box behind for true invention
A new world evolution
Forget normal
We are the new viral strain
A fingerprint a unique stain
As the zombies fight to find a cure
Our genes are the ones pure
Tried to outcast the strange
Gave us all a label
No comprise on the table
We imagine more than you think
Maybe a mutant link
Alien first contact
We where cut against the grain
That rewired our brain
When humanity has leapt forward
Autism was given no credit or reward
Seen as the burden
Einstein, Jobs, Turing ripped up convention
They left the box behind for true invention
Written by AspergerPoet56
Go To Page
RevolutionAL
Alistair Plint
Forum Posts: 1257
Alistair Plint
Dangerous Mind
29
Joined 24th July 2012Forum Posts: 1257
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/308475-rampensau/
Rampensau
Some days I wake
and it’s just there
rising from my throat
like a belligerent God
sucking down despair
and I race
to the green light
having not slept
because, poetry
and I haven’t showered
because,
poetry
and I haven’t dressed
because
the words need
to fire out like bullets
and there’s no place
I’d rather be
than where I feel
just like home.
This
this is
my house
all of it -
broken
crumbling
desolate
but it’s mine
none the less.
Thinking
makes it so.
The Germans
have a beautiful
word for this
flavour of chaos:
“rampensau”
the wild animal
of the stage
at home under
the spotlight
the puppeteer
of the microphone,
the slayer of crowds
and public spaces
the truth tellers,
the vocal aficionados
waking every morning
to brush their teeth
with poetry
to piss
poetry
to shit poetry
or get off
the damn pot
...well
that’s an entirely
more British expression...
but I
like to believe
our melded flags
can teach us
the real meaning
of what it is to live
to write
to wake up every morning
and make your life
the poem
bled from veins
to sound waves
fearlessly skinned
in the real.
Rampensau
Some days I wake
and it’s just there
rising from my throat
like a belligerent God
sucking down despair
and I race
to the green light
having not slept
because, poetry
and I haven’t showered
because,
poetry
and I haven’t dressed
because
the words need
to fire out like bullets
and there’s no place
I’d rather be
than where I feel
just like home.
This
this is
my house
all of it -
broken
crumbling
desolate
but it’s mine
none the less.
Thinking
makes it so.
The Germans
have a beautiful
word for this
flavour of chaos:
“rampensau”
the wild animal
of the stage
at home under
the spotlight
the puppeteer
of the microphone,
the slayer of crowds
and public spaces
the truth tellers,
the vocal aficionados
waking every morning
to brush their teeth
with poetry
to piss
poetry
to shit poetry
or get off
the damn pot
...well
that’s an entirely
more British expression...
but I
like to believe
our melded flags
can teach us
the real meaning
of what it is to live
to write
to wake up every morning
and make your life
the poem
bled from veins
to sound waves
fearlessly skinned
in the real.