Submissions by Casted_Runes (Mr Karswell)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I write poetry on a range of subjects and in a range of styles. My privacy is extremely important to me, though I hope that you enjoy my work and that I enjoy yours.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
25th Jun 2022 2:59pm
25th Jun 2022 2:59pm
Composed While Sitting on the Toilet at Work
this is a bit
of a shit
poem
but at least it’s not
as bad as the smell
of a shit
poem
but at least it’s not
as bad as the smell
#funny
308 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
23rd Jun 2022 10:31pm
23rd Jun 2022 10:31pm
a bloody stupid way to die
it would have been so easy for you,
I realise now,
to file me away
as having done what I did
because I just wasn’t meant for this world,
because I was a mother’s boy,
and not my father’s son.
and so it is that proving you wrong -
by which I mean your animal brain,
your dunderheaded animus,
uncultivated by
a single spark of men’s intelligence -
has kept me going, all this time.
even though I cut my face
because I was so scared of you
that putting myself in hospital
was better than being honest,
I...
I realise now,
to file me away
as having done what I did
because I just wasn’t meant for this world,
because I was a mother’s boy,
and not my father’s son.
and so it is that proving you wrong -
by which I mean your animal brain,
your dunderheaded animus,
uncultivated by
a single spark of men’s intelligence -
has kept me going, all this time.
even though I cut my face
because I was so scared of you
that putting myself in hospital
was better than being honest,
I...
#abuse
#suicide
547 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
23rd Jun 2022 6:33pm
23rd Jun 2022 6:33pm
why read?
reading encourages empathy
and improves cognitive ability.
and if those aren't reasons enough,
it is more fun and more satisfying
than any other type
of "entertaining" thing
that you can do alone;
from drinking
to wanking
to watching TV
to eating junk food
and killing 'roaches.
(it's also free, of course.)
and improves cognitive ability.
and if those aren't reasons enough,
it is more fun and more satisfying
than any other type
of "entertaining" thing
that you can do alone;
from drinking
to wanking
to watching TV
to eating junk food
and killing 'roaches.
(it's also free, of course.)
#books
388 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
21st Jun 2022 9:54am
21st Jun 2022 9:54am
video game
playing Nintendo as a kid,
I’d run around the first level as Mario,
in and out of the castle and
across the rolling fields of turf,
blocked-out and primary,
a binary code repeating itself, no doubt.
all about was emptiness,
just Mario in his dungarees,
the little icon man, untroubled by
the enemies, and princesses of lore.
how oddly relaxing it felt, as a kid,
to be alone and untroubled.
I’d run around the first level as Mario,
in and out of the castle and
across the rolling fields of turf,
blocked-out and primary,
a binary code repeating itself, no doubt.
all about was emptiness,
just Mario in his dungarees,
the little icon man, untroubled by
the enemies, and princesses of lore.
how oddly relaxing it felt, as a kid,
to be alone and untroubled.
#childhood
#memories
#PopCulture
417 reads
2 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
17th Jun 2022 7:08pm
17th Jun 2022 7:08pm
why study art
don't study the "humanities",
they're not human enough.
they won't help you to
a) love what's human on this earth
b) appreciate human nature
c) connect with human art
d) understand yourself
e) understand others
f) or even make money
the "humanities" will, at worst:
- destroy your love of human things
- destroy your love of human art
- destroy the human things in you
- and make you kill yourself
the "humanities" will, at best:
make you a teacher
of a privileged few
they're not human enough.
they won't help you to
a) love what's human on this earth
b) appreciate human nature
c) connect with human art
d) understand yourself
e) understand others
f) or even make money
the "humanities" will, at worst:
- destroy your love of human things
- destroy your love of human art
- destroy the human things in you
- and make you kill yourself
the "humanities" will, at best:
make you a teacher
of a privileged few
#humankind
#art
#college
391 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
14th Jun 2022 11:13pm
14th Jun 2022 11:13pm
Reading Sylvia Plath as an Adult
She represents the darkest icon of my self,
The feminine side turned outward and blackened.
For what is art without control? A girlish voice
In darkling woods. The muse is turned to hate
supreme,
American girl hardened to stone, blonde Medusa
Looking at herself. A sea-god perched on her left eye.
If amber heard was literate it would be just as dangerous.
But amber doesn’t hear itself, and so turns hate outwards,
On depths always unknown by it. How can you see
Blonde rage and flee, unbroken by its magnitude?
Plath brooks no...
The feminine side turned outward and blackened.
For what is art without control? A girlish voice
In darkling woods. The muse is turned to hate
supreme,
American girl hardened to stone, blonde Medusa
Looking at herself. A sea-god perched on her left eye.
If amber heard was literate it would be just as dangerous.
But amber doesn’t hear itself, and so turns hate outwards,
On depths always unknown by it. How can you see
Blonde rage and flee, unbroken by its magnitude?
Plath brooks no...
#WritingPoetry
393 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
14th Jun 2022 5:55pm
14th Jun 2022 5:55pm
Lament for Empty Childhood
Didn’t have a happy childhood.
The guilt of such a statement runs
but deep within my veins,
and only now is expelling.
I know that dad went in
to married life expecting one
of ancient wife and wifery,
a daemon of the kitchen sink,
a genius of childhood.
Such was his misfortune, then.
The breakdown of his given bride
left him and I inside an empty house.
A strong foothold in time, perhaps,
but what is time when stripped of entropy?
I cannot see a “harmfully” so lasting in
the modern age than watching telly
as...
The guilt of such a statement runs
but deep within my veins,
and only now is expelling.
I know that dad went in
to married life expecting one
of ancient wife and wifery,
a daemon of the kitchen sink,
a genius of childhood.
Such was his misfortune, then.
The breakdown of his given bride
left him and I inside an empty house.
A strong foothold in time, perhaps,
but what is time when stripped of entropy?
I cannot see a “harmfully” so lasting in
the modern age than watching telly
as...
#childhood
283 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Jun 2022 9:19pm
12th Jun 2022 9:19pm
Gothic
for Shelley, Radcliffe, Jackson, and Hill
The Gothic artiste is an artist who
is cursed with memory. And she
remembers every thing. Haunted by
the castle walls, a katy-did of heart’s
last wanderings, she pens her own
demise. And gives it rhymes:
her meted out and metric spies.
The Gothic artiste is an artist who
is cursed with memory. And she
remembers every thing. Haunted by
the castle walls, a katy-did of heart’s
last wanderings, she pens her own
demise. And gives it rhymes:
her meted out and metric spies.
#gothic
415 reads
1 Comment
EROTIC POEM
Published
12th Jun 2022 8:38pm
12th Jun 2022 8:38pm
For His Wife in Middle Age
And most of all, of course,
I see her walking through the house,
a glorious ruin, for who could walk
in times like these, the solemn stir
of Middle Age, both naked and alive
in each and all, her sainted pores?
The downy tuft of pubic hair
across her pubic bone, the pad pliant
beneath. The little frock of amber freckles on
the upper levels of her thighs.
And then she breaks my bones to sighs...
when last she lets me in!
I cannot kiss the breasts enough,
the aureoles of stone that browns
and hardens like a given...
I see her walking through the house,
a glorious ruin, for who could walk
in times like these, the solemn stir
of Middle Age, both naked and alive
in each and all, her sainted pores?
The downy tuft of pubic hair
across her pubic bone, the pad pliant
beneath. The little frock of amber freckles on
the upper levels of her thighs.
And then she breaks my bones to sighs...
when last she lets me in!
I cannot kiss the breasts enough,
the aureoles of stone that browns
and hardens like a given...
#love
#women
#marriage #sex
#marriage #sex
241 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Jun 2022 10:52am
12th Jun 2022 10:52am
Home Town Elegy
The ruined places of my heart’s adorning self,
The garages and job centres and shops
Where England’s whore-ish self has come
To flaunt and shift its bustle in the streets,
Once housed my own body, and almost homed my heart.
The garages and job centres and shops
Where England’s whore-ish self has come
To flaunt and shift its bustle in the streets,
Once housed my own body, and almost homed my heart.
#childhood
186 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
9th Jun 2022 7:36pm
9th Jun 2022 7:36pm
To Selfish Men
Be warned of those who need but do not want
your precious, ancient self. Those sickly men
whose hearts are shambling rapists.
All such men are just a man, and his name is
beelzebub, a funny and meaningless name.
He’ll breathe his dung-scented remorse
for what he is that’s not a better man on you,
and make you call it French perfume.
He’ll beat his way inside your house
because he thinks that you’re alike,
though you’ve not ever known his house,
because it’s not a house at all but hell.
your precious, ancient self. Those sickly men
whose hearts are shambling rapists.
All such men are just a man, and his name is
beelzebub, a funny and meaningless name.
He’ll breathe his dung-scented remorse
for what he is that’s not a better man on you,
and make you call it French perfume.
He’ll beat his way inside your house
because he thinks that you’re alike,
though you’ve not ever known his house,
because it’s not a house at all but hell.
#hate
316 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
9th Jun 2022 00:36am
9th Jun 2022 00:36am
Satan’s Ivy
There’s a reason why kids don’t like school,
Why they blanch at Shakespeare and Wordsworth.
And it’s because the Devil came down to Gomorrah,
Where the libraries were, and convinced its literary men
To bang on the library doors and scream for Shakespeare,
Austen, Pope, Dryden, Wordsworth, the Brontes,
And every other poor bastard to be dragged out
So that they may be raped before each student’s eyes,
And eaten like big balls of meat to be shat out
And wiped with term papers.
Deny the Beast, you boys and girls of Eden’s gate.
Ignore...
Why they blanch at Shakespeare and Wordsworth.
And it’s because the Devil came down to Gomorrah,
Where the libraries were, and convinced its literary men
To bang on the library doors and scream for Shakespeare,
Austen, Pope, Dryden, Wordsworth, the Brontes,
And every other poor bastard to be dragged out
So that they may be raped before each student’s eyes,
And eaten like big balls of meat to be shat out
And wiped with term papers.
Deny the Beast, you boys and girls of Eden’s gate.
Ignore...
#books
375 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Casted_Runes (Mr Karswell)
