Submissions by CeCe
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Blah-trouble-blah-bad relationships-blah-people die-drugs-fuckin blah-I write all this shit down in some way, twisted in metaphor, verbs slung through vague descriptions or blunt force with harsh words. Blah-
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2012 2:48am
2nd Nov 2012 2:48am
The Hour Of The Goddess
In the hour of the goddess,
The night time becomes me.
I wear nothing but her moonlight on my skin,
In these woods we gather.
We form into a circle.
We chant your name three times.
And then I begin...
I speak aloud the hurt you brought.
The lies you told.
We start to dance...
We speak secret words of revenge three times fold.
Slowly...
Our circle flows.
To a rhythm only we can hear.
I throw into the fire...
A small thing you once held dear.
My circle throws things from the earth.
Dirt, herbs, leaves & worms. ...
The night time becomes me.
I wear nothing but her moonlight on my skin,
In these woods we gather.
We form into a circle.
We chant your name three times.
And then I begin...
I speak aloud the hurt you brought.
The lies you told.
We start to dance...
We speak secret words of revenge three times fold.
Slowly...
Our circle flows.
To a rhythm only we can hear.
I throw into the fire...
A small thing you once held dear.
My circle throws things from the earth.
Dirt, herbs, leaves & worms. ...
835 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2012 2:31am
2nd Nov 2012 2:31am
Amber Lee
One night I came upon a girl, she was laying naked by the river bed,
I hope you understand this image was only in my head.
She had mud soaked blond hair,
And a glassy dead stare.
Pasty white flesh,
Rust colored blood, pooled & drying between her bare breasts.
She had an innocent, child like, makeup free face,
And a deep slash along her neck from where her blood had been drained.
That face, maybe she's about 15, such an age to die, to be stuck in that age of belief,
On verge of too young & almost there, just between. ...
I hope you understand this image was only in my head.
She had mud soaked blond hair,
And a glassy dead stare.
Pasty white flesh,
Rust colored blood, pooled & drying between her bare breasts.
She had an innocent, child like, makeup free face,
And a deep slash along her neck from where her blood had been drained.
That face, maybe she's about 15, such an age to die, to be stuck in that age of belief,
On verge of too young & almost there, just between. ...
914 reads
5 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
31st Oct 2012 9:41pm
31st Oct 2012 9:41pm
The Cemetery at Midnight
I hear the cemetery at midnight,
The shadows of the dead dance until the light.
Quiet whispers of insanity in my mind,
Tortured cries of pain from the blackness outside.
The shadows the scream hate & they worship only pain,
I can hear them because I am the same.
Written in 2002 in Winnemucca, NV. It was actually far past midnight.
The shadows of the dead dance until the light.
Quiet whispers of insanity in my mind,
Tortured cries of pain from the blackness outside.
The shadows the scream hate & they worship only pain,
I can hear them because I am the same.
Written in 2002 in Winnemucca, NV. It was actually far past midnight.
786 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
31st Oct 2012 9:29pm
31st Oct 2012 9:29pm
Lovely Slave
In the dark I walk.
Walk for me...
The devil speaks.
Wanna bleed ?
Well then, bleed for me.
The beast speaks softly.
Underneath his breath.
Caress me...
And you can be.
One of my little puppets.
I call earthly beings.
Sweet, softly.
He whispers in my ear.
Dear...dear lovely slave.
You behave.
As I command you.
True.
I am he, root of all evil.
But still you yearn...
To stay awhile,
In my sin filled temple.
Wanna Bleed ?
Well, bleed for me.
He speaks.
Softly, sweet.
My love...
Walk for me...
The devil speaks.
Wanna bleed ?
Well then, bleed for me.
The beast speaks softly.
Underneath his breath.
Caress me...
And you can be.
One of my little puppets.
I call earthly beings.
Sweet, softly.
He whispers in my ear.
Dear...dear lovely slave.
You behave.
As I command you.
True.
I am he, root of all evil.
But still you yearn...
To stay awhile,
In my sin filled temple.
Wanna Bleed ?
Well, bleed for me.
He speaks.
Softly, sweet.
My love...
808 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Oct 2012 3:50am
30th Oct 2012 3:50am
We Bleed Ink
We bleed ink.
We...
Draw it out on cryptic paper.
We write it beneath.
Beneath the lines of regular society.
Beneath what you see.
What you believe in.
What you dream of.
Deep in the night.
We bleed ink around it.
Like a shell holding an ancient creature.
Around the possibilities of us.
Of we...flawed human beings.
We bleed ink underneath.
Underneath the teaching of genius minds.
Twisting in the wind like leaves in a future storm.
You warn me.
Warn me not to stray from my soul.
We bleed ink.
Around...
We...
Draw it out on cryptic paper.
We write it beneath.
Beneath the lines of regular society.
Beneath what you see.
What you believe in.
What you dream of.
Deep in the night.
We bleed ink around it.
Like a shell holding an ancient creature.
Around the possibilities of us.
Of we...flawed human beings.
We bleed ink underneath.
Underneath the teaching of genius minds.
Twisting in the wind like leaves in a future storm.
You warn me.
Warn me not to stray from my soul.
We bleed ink.
Around...
875 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Oct 2012 3:20am
30th Oct 2012 3:20am
Messa De Verbones
Crazy stupid random blackness...
Is what I feel beneath.
Stupid crazy random blackness...
Never been released.
Hear what I may say untethered from this past prison of words.
This jungle of unrequited verbs.
This river of adjectives unreleased upon the world.
Breaking down boundaries of the disappointed & disturbed.
Be still & listen...
Can you hear the roar of my arrangement?
Or do you deafen yourself with complacement?
Written 5/28/2010
Is what I feel beneath.
Stupid crazy random blackness...
Never been released.
Hear what I may say untethered from this past prison of words.
This jungle of unrequited verbs.
This river of adjectives unreleased upon the world.
Breaking down boundaries of the disappointed & disturbed.
Be still & listen...
Can you hear the roar of my arrangement?
Or do you deafen yourself with complacement?
Written 5/28/2010
820 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by CeCe
