Submissions by Alois_inwriting02 (Alois Cyprien d Bayeux)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SELF POEM
Published
23rd May 2024 5:51am
23rd May 2024 5:51am
A Letter to the Purists
Industry opportunity-
so much for
buffoonery.
I've always known I'm just a clown and
frankly
can't help but to hang around.
Nourished by the grace of the
"Genius of The Crowd"
I
espouse
all of me with erroneously
hopeful cohesion and
unity.
Thus for the sole positive instance
megalomaniacal
pomposity of the artist,
low to the ground–
nose of a hound
scouring the air,
rising briefly to inspect his
surroundings,
and promptly
returning
to the
scent.
so much for
buffoonery.
I've always known I'm just a clown and
frankly
can't help but to hang around.
Nourished by the grace of the
"Genius of The Crowd"
I
espouse
all of me with erroneously
hopeful cohesion and
unity.
Thus for the sole positive instance
megalomaniacal
pomposity of the artist,
low to the ground–
nose of a hound
scouring the air,
rising briefly to inspect his
surroundings,
and promptly
returning
to the
scent.
#art
#determination
#risk #temptation
#risk #temptation
154 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd May 2024 3:51am
22nd May 2024 3:51am
aT
The Church of What’s Happening-
NOW.
The next quick fix:
the next pill
the next election
the next diet
the next quack workout
the newest hitler,
and affirmative action.
A box of Band-Aids
for bullet-holes,
bullet-holes
one and all in
this
Bloated, Rotting
Pig Carcass of a decadent Empire we’ve ourselves–
Don’t you think?
NOW.
The next quick fix:
the next pill
the next election
the next diet
the next quack workout
the newest hitler,
and affirmative action.
A box of Band-Aids
for bullet-holes,
bullet-holes
one and all in
this
Bloated, Rotting
Pig Carcass of a decadent Empire we’ve ourselves–
Don’t you think?
#apathy
#deception
133 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
21st May 2024 2:50am
21st May 2024 2:50am
Bearing the weight of words; worlds
Well Mr.
Chinaski,
the wine's got me by the will,
(I'm sure you'd say my woman’s got me by the
balls)–
and though I respect your work I
can't quite say I'd agree–
wheat and
chaff.
Long after first light I
rise, my
head still
sagging to one
side—
waterlogged with the
Midnight Dew.
Hangover hounding,
baying at the
back door of my cranium.
McCarthy mixes with the
brain fog
and
both plume upward to...
Chinaski,
the wine's got me by the will,
(I'm sure you'd say my woman’s got me by the
balls)–
and though I respect your work I
can't quite say I'd agree–
wheat and
chaff.
Long after first light I
rise, my
head still
sagging to one
side—
waterlogged with the
Midnight Dew.
Hangover hounding,
baying at the
back door of my cranium.
McCarthy mixes with the
brain fog
and
both plume upward to...
#CharlesBukowski
#nonfiction
#WritingPoetry
173 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th May 2024 5:29am
14th May 2024 5:29am
L'état de nos échanges
My
nuance
cries wolf in
Their
world of
totalitarian
action.
nuance
cries wolf in
Their
world of
totalitarian
action.
#minimalist
#misunderstood
196 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
30th Apr 2024 11:01pm
30th Apr 2024 11:01pm
On the Nose: "One must imagine Sisyphus happy."
As I scratch away at the
innards of a
sickening shock yellow
spiral-bound notebook on my
tiny desk in the
corner
of a small bedroom,
a gnat buzzes about the bulb of an incandescent
lamp.
An incessant search for a
new
angle
from which to attack the
Same
light.
innards of a
sickening shock yellow
spiral-bound notebook on my
tiny desk in the
corner
of a small bedroom,
a gnat buzzes about the bulb of an incandescent
lamp.
An incessant search for a
new
angle
from which to attack the
Same
light.
#minimalist
#symbolism
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
258 reads
7 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
1st Apr 2024 6:01pm
1st Apr 2024 6:01pm
House of Charades, Easter Sunday
Two by two,
all but three file in
Led
round the necks in the
footprints of their forefathers
and the convictions of
those men,
to an old tennessee brick church,
tullahoma.
inside–
a time capsule.
An uncanny, anachronistic testament to the
power,
control...
and from the back he appears:
the beginnings of a bowl cut
improperly sized suit vest,
with a garish
pink
shirt and
tie to
match the flowers
laid out
by the altar.
Features of a formerly...
all but three file in
Led
round the necks in the
footprints of their forefathers
and the convictions of
those men,
to an old tennessee brick church,
tullahoma.
inside–
a time capsule.
An uncanny, anachronistic testament to the
power,
control...
and from the back he appears:
the beginnings of a bowl cut
improperly sized suit vest,
with a garish
pink
shirt and
tie to
match the flowers
laid out
by the altar.
Features of a formerly...
#Easter
#tradition
#manipulation #deception
#manipulation #deception
163 reads
4 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
30th Mar 2024 2:56am
30th Mar 2024 2:56am
My greatest vice; times
the
Liquor running between my lips
tasted just that much
sweeter
when it was drained from
the last drop of my
savings.
Because,
I'm all in that moment
and
in that moment,
all I am is laid bare—
sans-pretense,
everything fine.
Liquor running between my lips
tasted just that much
sweeter
when it was drained from
the last drop of my
savings.
Because,
I'm all in that moment
and
in that moment,
all I am is laid bare—
sans-pretense,
everything fine.
#alcohol
#escape
204 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Mar 2024 2:52am
30th Mar 2024 2:52am
Slow dancing to the faint hum of unrequited attraction
#rejection
#confusion
#bittersweet
135 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
24th Mar 2024 2:35am
24th Mar 2024 2:35am
(My very own) Personal Hell
Morning began as any other,
straightening up my small room,
followed by
a marlboro red 100, skillet hash,
coffee.
Cherries and Berries
in my window
while simultaneously a youth and future squandered
pool at my feet
to the tune of cacophonous
wailing sirens.
"Sean Pokorney? Sean Pokorney? Sean..."
They
always told me I was built to race the clock
—trouble
is,
The clock got something of a head start.
I awake the next morn.
a small room smaller
in spite of its newfound...
straightening up my small room,
followed by
a marlboro red 100, skillet hash,
coffee.
Cherries and Berries
in my window
while simultaneously a youth and future squandered
pool at my feet
to the tune of cacophonous
wailing sirens.
"Sean Pokorney? Sean Pokorney? Sean..."
They
always told me I was built to race the clock
—trouble
is,
The clock got something of a head start.
I awake the next morn.
a small room smaller
in spite of its newfound...
#regret
#loneliness
#conflict #disappointment
#conflict #disappointment
177 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2024 5:19pm
23rd Mar 2024 5:19pm
Governor's broke
I reckon now that
it takes
a sudden, violent gust of wind
on the freeway, doing 90.
it takes 90 mi/hr
and
the violent wind
to call forth from the yawning Void in my chest
a brief smirk–
a fleeting half smile
or–
Standing.
Precariously perched underneath the
pointed tip of the bottle.
(a rather- damoclesian
affair).
it takes
a sudden, violent gust of wind
on the freeway, doing 90.
it takes 90 mi/hr
and
the violent wind
to call forth from the yawning Void in my chest
a brief smirk–
a fleeting half smile
or–
Standing.
Precariously perched underneath the
pointed tip of the bottle.
(a rather- damoclesian
affair).
#addiction
#FeelingLost
#emptiness #apathy
#emptiness #apathy
172 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2024 5:14pm
23rd Mar 2024 5:14pm
(Her)
Fuck, can I miss
Her.
Sure, peace
support
care
sex and
all the other masculine platitudes,
really more than any fella-
let alone one beset by
this
affliction could ever ask for- in this indifferent place
at that.
Though I should say
I partake of the fruits
begat of
this, wretched gift, an improper
fraction—
Astute. Aimless, Agony
—bittersweet as it is,
enables me to miss
the little things, too.
I miss the blood-red twilight sun
licking the horizon...
Her.
Sure, peace
support
care
sex and
all the other masculine platitudes,
really more than any fella-
let alone one beset by
this
affliction could ever ask for- in this indifferent place
at that.
Though I should say
I partake of the fruits
begat of
this, wretched gift, an improper
fraction—
Astute. Aimless, Agony
—bittersweet as it is,
enables me to miss
the little things, too.
I miss the blood-red twilight sun
licking the horizon...
#love
#relationships
#romantic #beauty
#romantic #beauty
206 reads
0 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Mar 2024 10:29pm
22nd Mar 2024 10:29pm
Straight Back to It.
My Arctic Sunrise is nigh.
To think
that all along
–I still had it.
It wasn't the bottle (yet)
But I pour mine out.
Clambering from my insular chamber
my being is
embraced by the pale yellow light of the
northern sun.
Though I stand a mere shivering 132 lbs.,
I'm washed over with a certain solidity,
Fortitude.
"one must imagine Sisyphus happy, eh?"
I pandiculate,
my fingertips scraping the clouds as
my skin pulls
taut
over my ribcage
To think
that all along
–I still had it.
It wasn't the bottle (yet)
But I pour mine out.
Clambering from my insular chamber
my being is
embraced by the pale yellow light of the
northern sun.
Though I stand a mere shivering 132 lbs.,
I'm washed over with a certain solidity,
Fortitude.
"one must imagine Sisyphus happy, eh?"
I pandiculate,
my fingertips scraping the clouds as
my skin pulls
taut
over my ribcage
#hope
177 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by Alois_inwriting02 (Alois Cyprien d Bayeux)
