Submissions by Brian_Riley96
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I'm just a pencil without an eraser.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Nov 2018 2:34pm
5th Nov 2018 2:34pm
Reaching out
No pain or perception. Ne'er a wince.
"Hey get out of the road!", I heard him shout.
"Brr its chilly", you say when you are near me.
I was lost in thought on the street.
It's almost as if nobody can hear me.
Pavement met my feet.
I'm jogging, no running, becoming two times the quick!
A tall man in a business suit had forgot his briefcase.
I got it to him with swiftness and haste.
He looked down at his briefcase with alarm not relief.
All this loneliness leaves me with a bad taste. ...
"Hey get out of the road!", I heard him shout.
"Brr its chilly", you say when you are near me.
I was lost in thought on the street.
It's almost as if nobody can hear me.
Pavement met my feet.
I'm jogging, no running, becoming two times the quick!
A tall man in a business suit had forgot his briefcase.
I got it to him with swiftness and haste.
He looked down at his briefcase with alarm not relief.
All this loneliness leaves me with a bad taste. ...
#sadness
405 reads
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SELF POEM
Published
7th Oct 2018 6:23pm
7th Oct 2018 6:23pm
Moms should write books
Mothers are women. Amazing creatures.
Moms should write books.
Referred to as requirements, or as some call them "features".
If moms wrote their daily matter down some would cast disgusting looks.
But see these are just words.
Would we be truly inspired, or put on an act?
Another woman shunned and going unheard.
But they don't mind, no, they deal in fact.
You see mothers are scary, crazy, and bizarre!
They put up with things that would cause others much distress.
I'll tell you just...
Moms should write books.
Referred to as requirements, or as some call them "features".
If moms wrote their daily matter down some would cast disgusting looks.
But see these are just words.
Would we be truly inspired, or put on an act?
Another woman shunned and going unheard.
But they don't mind, no, they deal in fact.
You see mothers are scary, crazy, and bizarre!
They put up with things that would cause others much distress.
I'll tell you just...
#mother
417 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
7th Oct 2018 9:51am
7th Oct 2018 9:51am
Mental Hangman
L__VE
#anxiety
387 reads
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LOVE POEM
Published
7th Oct 2018 9:46am
7th Oct 2018 9:46am
Love isn't a dead language, but it is hard to follow
Get with the times and conquer your fears.
Don't be a settler they've been dead for years.
For love to be ever in your favor.
First learn to love thy neighbor.
Because being in love is the greatest thing that could ever happen to you.
Trust me I'd know I just turned twenty two
Don't be a settler they've been dead for years.
For love to be ever in your favor.
First learn to love thy neighbor.
Because being in love is the greatest thing that could ever happen to you.
Trust me I'd know I just turned twenty two
#hope
366 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th Sep 2018 5:14am
27th Sep 2018 5:14am
f**k me
You only ever fucked me.
And not in the way that I Iiked.
Maybe it's because I struggle with diction.
Or perhaps you really should take that hike.
Iove is just a work of fiction.
And you loved me.
But never in the way that I liked.
And not in the way that I Iiked.
Maybe it's because I struggle with diction.
Or perhaps you really should take that hike.
Iove is just a work of fiction.
And you loved me.
But never in the way that I liked.
#disappointment
372 reads
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SELF POEM
Published
27th Aug 2018 4:37pm
27th Aug 2018 4:37pm
Walk it out
He once walked with head held high
He'd make eye contact and meet her gaze.
Now he watches the feet of strangers as he shuffles by.
looking at her he loved her in a million different ways.
The happiness is no more, but a feeling still lingers.
Pain or love it's anyones guess.
A question he always forgets as he again fidgets his fingers.
For a guy so neat he's made quite the mess.
He lost his love and he cried his voice coarse.
But he wasn't sad, no, he was relieved.
She had became...
He'd make eye contact and meet her gaze.
Now he watches the feet of strangers as he shuffles by.
looking at her he loved her in a million different ways.
The happiness is no more, but a feeling still lingers.
Pain or love it's anyones guess.
A question he always forgets as he again fidgets his fingers.
For a guy so neat he's made quite the mess.
He lost his love and he cried his voice coarse.
But he wasn't sad, no, he was relieved.
She had became...
#regret
434 reads
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SELF POEM
Published
18th Aug 2018 3:27pm
18th Aug 2018 3:27pm
She's dating now
Many summers have now passed.
Still you are gone.
Now she must move on.
Not on purpose, not yet anyway.
Sometimes I listen to her for you.
She beams when I bring you up.
You know the way. Like the sun setting on your back porch.
Her with her crosswords and you the sudoku.
All while Abby and Lucy scare away the deer, again.
But it all ends seconds later and the moment passes.
It hits her like a knife in the chest.
She remembers that you've been laid to rest. ...
Still you are gone.
Now she must move on.
Not on purpose, not yet anyway.
Sometimes I listen to her for you.
She beams when I bring you up.
You know the way. Like the sun setting on your back porch.
Her with her crosswords and you the sudoku.
All while Abby and Lucy scare away the deer, again.
But it all ends seconds later and the moment passes.
It hits her like a knife in the chest.
She remembers that you've been laid to rest. ...
#acceptance
369 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st May 2018 00:52am
1st May 2018 00:52am
Progress
Heavier weights and increased repetitions.
Extra resistance and added effort.
Marking the passage time with the power of rhyme.
In video games it's checkpoints and percentages.
Spreadsheets, business agendas, and naturally, GPA's.
Diplomas and degrees long sought after.
Both monitored and monotonous.
Requiring their own amount of determination, but in the end just paper.
Like an ocean of crackerless smores these papers mean nothing without direction and purpose.
A word so meaningful, yet...
Extra resistance and added effort.
Marking the passage time with the power of rhyme.
In video games it's checkpoints and percentages.
Spreadsheets, business agendas, and naturally, GPA's.
Diplomas and degrees long sought after.
Both monitored and monotonous.
Requiring their own amount of determination, but in the end just paper.
Like an ocean of crackerless smores these papers mean nothing without direction and purpose.
A word so meaningful, yet...
#anxiety
385 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
28th Apr 2018 6:12pm
28th Apr 2018 6:12pm
Up the down escalator
Up the down escalator.
My favorite thing at the mall.
Up the down escalator.
I tell myself I won't fall.
Getting up the down is unforgiving.
Going up, but coming down is part of living.
Once more I tell myself to get a grip.
Never do I go down the up escalator.
Nonsense I would trip.
I only struggle up then come back to the floor.
Up the down escalator.
I've been here before .
My favorite thing at the mall.
Up the down escalator.
I tell myself I won't fall.
Getting up the down is unforgiving.
Going up, but coming down is part of living.
Once more I tell myself to get a grip.
Never do I go down the up escalator.
Nonsense I would trip.
I only struggle up then come back to the floor.
Up the down escalator.
I've been here before .
#LifeCycle
488 reads
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DRUGS POEM
Published
5th Mar 2018 2:12pm
5th Mar 2018 2:12pm
Fleeting remembrance
Finishing my cup of coffee I suddenly strike a vein.
One more smoke just one more drag.
I'll smoke past the filter to forget, not minding the cost.
Inching closer to death one last tear drops out.
The pick axe is my hand and the ore it is my brain.
One more toke just another dime bag.
My breaths are shallow and my pulse is lost.
Memories flood the my mind as my lungs give out.
The needle finds its mark and I am numb to the pain.
This habit leads you from...
One more smoke just one more drag.
I'll smoke past the filter to forget, not minding the cost.
Inching closer to death one last tear drops out.
The pick axe is my hand and the ore it is my brain.
One more toke just another dime bag.
My breaths are shallow and my pulse is lost.
Memories flood the my mind as my lungs give out.
The needle finds its mark and I am numb to the pain.
This habit leads you from...
#LifeStruggles
467 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Jan 2018 3:28pm
19th Jan 2018 3:28pm
It's Me
It's disappointing your father.
It's in the way that you put yourself out there like a closeline in a dustbowl.
It's being there for your best friend even if you aren't his.
It's being there when your mom breaks down because one of your sisters overdosed.
It's being yourself even when everyone calls you weird.
It's sticking to your poetry even if your dad calls you gay for it.
It's having a first love even if you aren't hers.
It's making love for the first time because all those other girls were meaningless...
It's in the way that you put yourself out there like a closeline in a dustbowl.
It's being there for your best friend even if you aren't his.
It's being there when your mom breaks down because one of your sisters overdosed.
It's being yourself even when everyone calls you weird.
It's sticking to your poetry even if your dad calls you gay for it.
It's having a first love even if you aren't hers.
It's making love for the first time because all those other girls were meaningless...
#SelfHarm
#confessional
#SelfReflection
#SelfDiscovery
#SelfWorth
493 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Jan 2018 9:55pm
18th Jan 2018 9:55pm
So this is Fame?
I want space and I need distance.
It's not you it's me, atleast that's what I claim.
But this isn't Hollywood this is reality.
Highschool drama club led me to "Fame".
After Fame came nostalgia.
Thoughts of ,"what ifs",or "what could have been's".
When you left me I felt it worse than any insulin shot.
I think back to drama club now and then.
Anything to distract myself from the fact that "he" was good enough, but I'm not.
Proper etiquette be damned.
Strange,cringy, awkward and...
It's not you it's me, atleast that's what I claim.
But this isn't Hollywood this is reality.
Highschool drama club led me to "Fame".
After Fame came nostalgia.
Thoughts of ,"what ifs",or "what could have been's".
When you left me I felt it worse than any insulin shot.
I think back to drama club now and then.
Anything to distract myself from the fact that "he" was good enough, but I'm not.
Proper etiquette be damned.
Strange,cringy, awkward and...
#TruthOfLife
#humankind
#nostalgia
#philosophical
#StreamOfConsciousness
420 reads
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DU Poetry : Submissions by Brian_Riley96
