Submissions by 13
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
its all a fluke... or just insanity.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Mar 2015 9:33am
29th Mar 2015 9:33am
The journey from indifference to amazement
Long and arduous, perilously entwined
Up the eternal slope of the mind
Strewn the plains of barren thought
Full of words yet intellectually wrought
Descending into the gutters without once thinking twice
Words, of course, are meaningless tools that sound like something nice
Embodying gibberish and sentences so vile
Drifting from incorrigible to completely in denial
A minute of peace before reality strikes
Exclamations abound for diffident delights
Incapable of containing the overflowing excitement
Alas! begins the journey from indifference to...
Up the eternal slope of the mind
Strewn the plains of barren thought
Full of words yet intellectually wrought
Descending into the gutters without once thinking twice
Words, of course, are meaningless tools that sound like something nice
Embodying gibberish and sentences so vile
Drifting from incorrigible to completely in denial
A minute of peace before reality strikes
Exclamations abound for diffident delights
Incapable of containing the overflowing excitement
Alas! begins the journey from indifference to...
773 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th Mar 2015 9:29am
29th Mar 2015 9:29am
Lethargy
Methodical apathy, with exquisite precision.
It’s a sin if done intentionally, one of the deadliest.
If only the mind ran the body, inability would become a parody.
Gunpoint motivation.
If you fail that then you are truly exceptional.
You are the impossibility of reason, the magna carta of indolence.
Dust moves faster.
Synapses die, process is distress.
You may wittily reply, but your improvisation is a mess.
Follow through becomes a sporting term.
Creativity hopes to crash and burn.
Rhyming schemes fail to rhyme.
Like so.
Once a...
It’s a sin if done intentionally, one of the deadliest.
If only the mind ran the body, inability would become a parody.
Gunpoint motivation.
If you fail that then you are truly exceptional.
You are the impossibility of reason, the magna carta of indolence.
Dust moves faster.
Synapses die, process is distress.
You may wittily reply, but your improvisation is a mess.
Follow through becomes a sporting term.
Creativity hopes to crash and burn.
Rhyming schemes fail to rhyme.
Like so.
Once a...
780 reads
0 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
28th Mar 2015 5:08am
28th Mar 2015 5:08am
Failed Creation
You know, this is fucking bullshit,
Sitting to write and drawing blanks.
Inspiration comes from far and near
But there’s no process to make words adhere.
And venting a carcass of a poem is not my idea of poetry.
Sitting to write and drawing blanks.
Inspiration comes from far and near
But there’s no process to make words adhere.
And venting a carcass of a poem is not my idea of poetry.
920 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Mar 2015 5:08am
28th Mar 2015 5:08am
Festival of lights and bombs
Come witness the flatulence, the fervor, the glee.
like those who cover their ears and see
the explosions of thunder upon the ground,
delectable delicacies all around.
The one week when we can be
as irresponsible and stupid as we could possibly,
with gunpowder and sulphur in the sky
the night birds could all but hope to die.
Poison the winds, poison the night
shatter the windows as colours ignite,
reduce a religion to dust and ash
for faith is found in burning cash.
Light a lamp in every home
with gifts to enliven the...
like those who cover their ears and see
the explosions of thunder upon the ground,
delectable delicacies all around.
The one week when we can be
as irresponsible and stupid as we could possibly,
with gunpowder and sulphur in the sky
the night birds could all but hope to die.
Poison the winds, poison the night
shatter the windows as colours ignite,
reduce a religion to dust and ash
for faith is found in burning cash.
Light a lamp in every home
with gifts to enliven the...
709 reads
0 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2014 7:08pm
2nd Nov 2014 7:08pm
What 'sober' feels like
Don’t misunderstand, I still douse my senses with alcohol from time to time.
It’s only the green and black that have been phased out of my daily routine.
I have a mental drug problem.
I can’t stop over-thinking or even over-smoking, in fact,
and I let it get to my head in a way nothing ever has.
Imagine living a life based on solely the acquisition and consumption
of a drug you claim to have complete control over.
Sounds like a junkie’s wet dream to me.
Every action is governed by the need for a spliff and nothing gets done after a spliff.
As much as I...
It’s only the green and black that have been phased out of my daily routine.
I have a mental drug problem.
I can’t stop over-thinking or even over-smoking, in fact,
and I let it get to my head in a way nothing ever has.
Imagine living a life based on solely the acquisition and consumption
of a drug you claim to have complete control over.
Sounds like a junkie’s wet dream to me.
Every action is governed by the need for a spliff and nothing gets done after a spliff.
As much as I...
1030 reads
4 Comments
SONG LYRICS
Published
2nd Nov 2014 6:45pm
2nd Nov 2014 6:45pm
f**k Knows (F.K.) - Downfall
#anger
#hate
#dark
#music
#lyrics
1083 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th Oct 2014 7:36am
6th Oct 2014 7:36am
Ardour of humidity (The story south of center)
It has laid patiently in the recesses of my phone waiting for its day of glory. And 7 months of gestation has finally birthed diligence.
Besides it’s high time I tell this story otherwise I’m just going to (intentionally) forget and never write about it.
11th Feb 2014 - 20th Feb 2014.
This isn’t merely an account of my journey to the beautiful south (my native) but also a personal record of my thoughts during my stay there.
If things don’t seem to fit, you’re making the mistake to trying to make sense.
[raw/unedited - start of log]
!)...
Besides it’s high time I tell this story otherwise I’m just going to (intentionally) forget and never write about it.
11th Feb 2014 - 20th Feb 2014.
This isn’t merely an account of my journey to the beautiful south (my native) but also a personal record of my thoughts during my stay there.
If things don’t seem to fit, you’re making the mistake to trying to make sense.
[raw/unedited - start of log]
!)...
898 reads
2 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
6th Oct 2014 7:17am
6th Oct 2014 7:17am
The forsaker
Creator. Creation.
The bastard of sentiment and pride.
A stye on the natural dye, spoiling all but the eye.
Appearances deceive the meek and kind.
The rotting essence of this one’s heart just won’t die.
Another day of silent abuse, welcoming another smile.
If ignorance had a role model like this comedy would never die.
The arrogance of prejudice stains thoroughly.
The absent hours come alive until the inevitable return of the inherited honor.
The squandered respect, the virtuous dishonor.
The forsaker.
The bastard of sentiment and pride.
A stye on the natural dye, spoiling all but the eye.
Appearances deceive the meek and kind.
The rotting essence of this one’s heart just won’t die.
Another day of silent abuse, welcoming another smile.
If ignorance had a role model like this comedy would never die.
The arrogance of prejudice stains thoroughly.
The absent hours come alive until the inevitable return of the inherited honor.
The squandered respect, the virtuous dishonor.
The forsaker.
797 reads
2 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
2nd Sep 2014 10:24pm
2nd Sep 2014 10:24pm
Deus Ex Machina
Words cannot reflect the sipid curves
That stir the inane hunger
The dark chocolate underneath the fabric
Sin, if innocence was still a thing
A flower budding its breast
Welcoming and loving its visitors
It is what love really is not.
Spurring a sense of intimidation
A boldness that stems from her
As she grabs hold of what lies in between
Between conversations and meditation
You feel remote, vivified
As though you always belonged to her
She takes you in, you are spitshined
The intimacy she yearns for in your arms
Isn't so scarce...
That stir the inane hunger
The dark chocolate underneath the fabric
Sin, if innocence was still a thing
A flower budding its breast
Welcoming and loving its visitors
It is what love really is not.
Spurring a sense of intimidation
A boldness that stems from her
As she grabs hold of what lies in between
Between conversations and meditation
You feel remote, vivified
As though you always belonged to her
She takes you in, you are spitshined
The intimacy she yearns for in your arms
Isn't so scarce...
1058 reads
14 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
7th Jul 2014 8:53am
7th Jul 2014 8:53am
Errant Noise
What ifs' and 'why nots' why do you exist?
You’ve grown ever so cumbersome
Please cease and desist.
Your wants, no more virtuous than your promises, superfluous
Enslaved by your whims
We’d never be remiss.
Dancing in the shadows, stepping on toes
A million different reasons to watch ambitions run.
Depriving, contriving, playing with hope
Becoming the moon of a forlorn sun.
Fueling contrition, admonished shame
Created an ego unlike none
Alive beneath despondent veins
Ruining what’s left, and then some.
Your abhorrent...
You’ve grown ever so cumbersome
Please cease and desist.
Your wants, no more virtuous than your promises, superfluous
Enslaved by your whims
We’d never be remiss.
Dancing in the shadows, stepping on toes
A million different reasons to watch ambitions run.
Depriving, contriving, playing with hope
Becoming the moon of a forlorn sun.
Fueling contrition, admonished shame
Created an ego unlike none
Alive beneath despondent veins
Ruining what’s left, and then some.
Your abhorrent...
920 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th May 2014 11:35am
11th May 2014 11:35am
To make an effort
There is nothing at the end of the rope.
Only darkness below the smell of rising disgust.
Impassively lingering in the cheap caricature of the comical impasse.
Big words yield big emotions.
The wine launders tilted sinuses with spurious empathy
while distractions become anxious attractions.
Dull is the blade that slits the wrong end of the vein.
Trying to try is commendable by failure and loathing.
Living in denial will bear sweeter fruits…. Still,
A broken man’s death is something to forget.
----
- Posted on May...
Only darkness below the smell of rising disgust.
Impassively lingering in the cheap caricature of the comical impasse.
Big words yield big emotions.
The wine launders tilted sinuses with spurious empathy
while distractions become anxious attractions.
Dull is the blade that slits the wrong end of the vein.
Trying to try is commendable by failure and loathing.
Living in denial will bear sweeter fruits…. Still,
A broken man’s death is something to forget.
----
- Posted on May...
842 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
24th Mar 2014 9:35pm
24th Mar 2014 9:35pm
Excuses are a million
"And then some,
Food for thought that wouldn’t think,
Working the wrought unto the brink….
Where slaves define a generational plight
A martyr is born out of infamy and blithe.”
——
Rotting, still, in a cancerous shell that knows no health, nor godliness
Ever convincing the pompous mind of the frailty of determination.
A ghost of the day lurking in the shade,
With no deeds worth doing and nothing to bate the erosion of taste.
The asylum of words spurred to life, tongues turned black with hate,
Cheers of death and laughter that bled...
Food for thought that wouldn’t think,
Working the wrought unto the brink….
Where slaves define a generational plight
A martyr is born out of infamy and blithe.”
——
Rotting, still, in a cancerous shell that knows no health, nor godliness
Ever convincing the pompous mind of the frailty of determination.
A ghost of the day lurking in the shade,
With no deeds worth doing and nothing to bate the erosion of taste.
The asylum of words spurred to life, tongues turned black with hate,
Cheers of death and laughter that bled...
827 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by 13
