Submissions by 010101110110100101 (053927598376y93870873109)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
it's your funeral.
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Oct 2012 6:37am
22nd Oct 2012 6:37am
one of those days
when the act of waking up
forces a spike through your chest
hits stagnant air
and why do anything when
tomorrow you have to do it all again
mirrors accuse you
daily tasks abuse you
your stubborn will to live
amuses you
your relentless lungs
hold a space emptier than heaven
the smallest swallow rips
your oesophagus into shredded strips
food hits your stomach
like a nokia.
and every
day
you
cry
for ever there is no yesterday
only tomorrow
this is why you never can
fall asleep
you...
forces a spike through your chest
hits stagnant air
and why do anything when
tomorrow you have to do it all again
mirrors accuse you
daily tasks abuse you
your stubborn will to live
amuses you
your relentless lungs
hold a space emptier than heaven
the smallest swallow rips
your oesophagus into shredded strips
food hits your stomach
like a nokia.
and every
day
you
cry
for ever there is no yesterday
only tomorrow
this is why you never can
fall asleep
you...
601 reads
DARK POEM
Published
21st Oct 2012 9:08am
21st Oct 2012 9:08am
[the day poetry became something else]
This hole I've cut-
torn, slashed, mutilated, sliced-
It bleeds,
it bleeds and hurts
hurts and bleeds.
The fact of this
silences me ;
shuts me up
There are things I would have said
and now cannot.
And oh, words!
what we do when we play with them
is tag with a tiger
catch a tiger by the toe
but we could play
kiss chase with metaphors round the clock
and never get down to fucking
Because does the word metal
taste the same in your mouth
as it feels against the tug and scrape of your...
torn, slashed, mutilated, sliced-
It bleeds,
it bleeds and hurts
hurts and bleeds.
The fact of this
silences me ;
shuts me up
There are things I would have said
and now cannot.
And oh, words!
what we do when we play with them
is tag with a tiger
catch a tiger by the toe
but we could play
kiss chase with metaphors round the clock
and never get down to fucking
Because does the word metal
taste the same in your mouth
as it feels against the tug and scrape of your...
675 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
20th Oct 2012 8:11am
20th Oct 2012 8:11am
[jamie johnson]
you left exactly what you intended
behind you
you followed Louis to the end
and
the world is still not your friend
your friends are struck dumb by
your selfishness,
yes, that's what they call it.
and I was angry and wrote
a poem
but that wasn't fair
you have spread your hurt
through everyone now
your body is heavy in their hearts
Like Louis was the stone
around your neck
that's you now
you knew what you were doing
and did it anyway
I do not doubt your pain
was all the...
behind you
you followed Louis to the end
and
the world is still not your friend
your friends are struck dumb by
your selfishness,
yes, that's what they call it.
and I was angry and wrote
a poem
but that wasn't fair
you have spread your hurt
through everyone now
your body is heavy in their hearts
Like Louis was the stone
around your neck
that's you now
you knew what you were doing
and did it anyway
I do not doubt your pain
was all the...
745 reads
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Oct 2012 6:42pm
17th Oct 2012 6:42pm
[the end of a long day]
breathe, wrists, breathe
you've been smuggled in dark cotton for so long, so long
and now you sigh sweaty thankfulness
for the moment resting
weary meditatation, palms up dried blood
glaring peacefully, peacefully
pink swellings showing healing
has begun
knitting together in some
magical science way
as if some little invisible sock-darner is working
working away, plying his wonder needle and thread
shaking his head going
tut-tut
sigh
you've been smuggled in dark cotton for so long, so long
and now you sigh sweaty thankfulness
for the moment resting
weary meditatation, palms up dried blood
glaring peacefully, peacefully
pink swellings showing healing
has begun
knitting together in some
magical science way
as if some little invisible sock-darner is working
working away, plying his wonder needle and thread
shaking his head going
tut-tut
sigh
652 reads
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
16th Oct 2012 5:14pm
16th Oct 2012 5:14pm
[days in the life]
time passes]
there are fibrous cracks in the wall that seem to me as healed scars, raised and
puckered memories that will never die
the brown carpet on the stairs is of the earth, from it I rose and to it I will
return
the pizza was delicious, the vegetables soft and sugary and the barely cooked dough
folded over seared on the base
and I'm sorry I said it looked shit, mam i'm sorry
the walls are not built straight, thay wobble upward from the stairway and vaguely
cave inward to enclose us
I think about how they would feel crashing in,...
there are fibrous cracks in the wall that seem to me as healed scars, raised and
puckered memories that will never die
the brown carpet on the stairs is of the earth, from it I rose and to it I will
return
the pizza was delicious, the vegetables soft and sugary and the barely cooked dough
folded over seared on the base
and I'm sorry I said it looked shit, mam i'm sorry
the walls are not built straight, thay wobble upward from the stairway and vaguely
cave inward to enclose us
I think about how they would feel crashing in,...
638 reads
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Oct 2012 7:47am
16th Oct 2012 7:47am
[post-mortemism]
n.1: when the poems
shy from the bright
trophy-glint limelight
turn in on themselves
eat their own
stomachs
scrape, gulp. chew
self-cannibalising
the entrails
we worked so hard to strew.
the resultant style
may be called
forensic;
all DNA swabs and
trace chemicals
(what the hell happened here)
just another
artistic casualty
death penalty poem
(do not ask for whom
the bell tolls;
it tolls for you)
shy from the bright
trophy-glint limelight
turn in on themselves
eat their own
stomachs
scrape, gulp. chew
self-cannibalising
the entrails
we worked so hard to strew.
the resultant style
may be called
forensic;
all DNA swabs and
trace chemicals
(what the hell happened here)
just another
artistic casualty
death penalty poem
(do not ask for whom
the bell tolls;
it tolls for you)
666 reads
DARK POEM
Published
14th Oct 2012 7:42pm
14th Oct 2012 7:42pm
[on bowling]
this is the day you'll die, the sky rolling over you crushing you leaving you stretched
out and broken by the tyre tracks of nature's way
and we all knew it was coming it's one of those inevetabilities like when you're bowling
and your wrist snaps and the ball just clatters, rolls, turns and slows, earthlike and
apocalyptic in its curvature
GUTTERBALL
YOU LOSE
and we'll all wonder if there was something that could be done or something that could
be said in the crucial hour that could have changed the course of time
but like...
out and broken by the tyre tracks of nature's way
and we all knew it was coming it's one of those inevetabilities like when you're bowling
and your wrist snaps and the ball just clatters, rolls, turns and slows, earthlike and
apocalyptic in its curvature
GUTTERBALL
YOU LOSE
and we'll all wonder if there was something that could be done or something that could
be said in the crucial hour that could have changed the course of time
but like...
665 reads
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Oct 2012 7:39am
11th Oct 2012 7:39am
[ideas]
got back on track got all the
backed up work to work on when i want to got like
LOADS of ideas got like tons
how the hell im gonna focus choose pick
which one to do
i dunno but sure my ideas they're
crazy awesome they'll work themselves out
i'll be human again
only human again
got so much to do though don't think i'll have the time
for crafting splatter patterns
n calling it a poem
thinking someone gonna see it think oh wow
that's like the perfect expression of or
whatever
and im build create sculpt ...
backed up work to work on when i want to got like
LOADS of ideas got like tons
how the hell im gonna focus choose pick
which one to do
i dunno but sure my ideas they're
crazy awesome they'll work themselves out
i'll be human again
only human again
got so much to do though don't think i'll have the time
for crafting splatter patterns
n calling it a poem
thinking someone gonna see it think oh wow
that's like the perfect expression of or
whatever
and im build create sculpt ...
849 reads
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Oct 2012 8:36am
9th Oct 2012 8:36am
[PHONE CALL]
Hello? Is from dating service
Are you wanting some company tonight?
No? Are you very sure about that
because our record-
our records show you are very lonely
madam please to not hang up
i happen to know
------------------------
Are you wanting some company tonight?
No? Are you very sure about that
because our record-
our records show you are very lonely
madam please to not hang up
i happen to know
------------------------
630 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Oct 2012 8:20am
9th Oct 2012 8:20am
[forrest munch]
forrest munch]
life is a box of chocolates:
you can't taste every fucking one
you greedy whore
life is a box of chocolates:
you can't taste every fucking one
you greedy whore
633 reads
0 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
7th Oct 2012 4:28pm
7th Oct 2012 4:28pm
the world is not a wish-making factory
why do we try to to fight this
i want to buy your colitis
why won't you sell it to me
you want to be pain free
& i want justice
it should be so easy
trade with me
i want to buy your colitis
why won't you sell it to me
you want to be pain free
& i want justice
it should be so easy
trade with me
620 reads
DARK POEM
Published
7th Oct 2012 3:53pm
7th Oct 2012 3:53pm
it's a friable life
you ever
held your wrist
and known
the power you had
did your pulse
feel
sexual;
did you get a
sick thrill
from pressing
a blade to it
with every
slash
did you hurt
your tormentors
-for YOU-
-& YOU-
-& fucking HER
could you stop your hands from shaking?
coated in
soapy blood
slick &
sexual;
painfully
sexy
blood rush
& you liked
the breakability
your scars...
held your wrist
and known
the power you had
did your pulse
feel
sexual;
did you get a
sick thrill
from pressing
a blade to it
with every
slash
did you hurt
your tormentors
-for YOU-
-& YOU-
-& fucking HER
could you stop your hands from shaking?
coated in
soapy blood
slick &
sexual;
painfully
sexy
blood rush
& you liked
the breakability
your scars...
795 reads
DU Poetry : Submissions by 010101110110100101 (053927598376y93870873109)
