Submissions by CharlesBGill (theChad1337)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Aug 2016 3:41pm
20th Aug 2016 3:41pm
The Wettest Sock
There is nothing wetter than you, wet sock.
No simple saturation could ever match
The overwhelming dampness of your body,
And endless gushing of your squelchy soul.
To me you are a heavy burden,
Weighing down the left side of my being;
But to those thirsty millions of men,
Women, babes and all, across the dry dry sea,
A year of rain you could provide
If I were to ring thy footy neck.
Oh this heavy sopping drip! A waterfall
Is to thee as only a single tear
To a giant with a thousand eyes and ...
No simple saturation could ever match
The overwhelming dampness of your body,
And endless gushing of your squelchy soul.
To me you are a heavy burden,
Weighing down the left side of my being;
But to those thirsty millions of men,
Women, babes and all, across the dry dry sea,
A year of rain you could provide
If I were to ring thy footy neck.
Oh this heavy sopping drip! A waterfall
Is to thee as only a single tear
To a giant with a thousand eyes and ...
560 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Feb 2016 6:52am
11th Feb 2016 6:52am
The Living Paths of Life
It is the treading of this path,
the trepidatious treads that track
back to tiles past trodden,
revealing congealing prints
of past gone pathways
on ancient roads now sodden.
Thick with moist mossy overgrowth,
the only sign of growth of time,
but now though faded still remains
the signage of the rugged climb.
That climb from dark despairing pits
that Pity’s arm does seldom reach,
where come emerging from the dark
the inner flames of one’s desire
to make it out and up...
the trepidatious treads that track
back to tiles past trodden,
revealing congealing prints
of past gone pathways
on ancient roads now sodden.
Thick with moist mossy overgrowth,
the only sign of growth of time,
but now though faded still remains
the signage of the rugged climb.
That climb from dark despairing pits
that Pity’s arm does seldom reach,
where come emerging from the dark
the inner flames of one’s desire
to make it out and up...
507 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
11th Feb 2016 6:46am
11th Feb 2016 6:46am
He Sits
The seated position of the not quite sitting stance,
that, sat in quiet sentimental silence
sounds only out the sounding of simple solitude.
He sits,
in dark semi lightness regarding lightly
the dull flicker of the box set
as it sizzles static symbols
of simmering background rays and signals
of past days
that neither box sets nor backlit lights
illuminating the semi seated see.
He sits.
Regards the darkened spaces
around which seats the desks and empty places
and which...
that, sat in quiet sentimental silence
sounds only out the sounding of simple solitude.
He sits,
in dark semi lightness regarding lightly
the dull flicker of the box set
as it sizzles static symbols
of simmering background rays and signals
of past days
that neither box sets nor backlit lights
illuminating the semi seated see.
He sits.
Regards the darkened spaces
around which seats the desks and empty places
and which...
514 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
10th Feb 2016 9:34pm
10th Feb 2016 9:34pm
This poor muscle beating on
Alas,
A lass has felled me.
Wooden as I was in company
As soundless as the fallen trunks
Of trees.
My speech reflected nothing save
The clear and outward vestige
Of my ardour;
And trying as I might
I felt her slip away as glass in hand
Smashed aside the wholeness
Of my heart.
It matters not.
In what world was I a reason for
A batted eye, a cheery smile?
That though she has as bright as day
Cannot unbind the frosty thud
Of this poor muscle beating...
A lass has felled me.
Wooden as I was in company
As soundless as the fallen trunks
Of trees.
My speech reflected nothing save
The clear and outward vestige
Of my ardour;
And trying as I might
I felt her slip away as glass in hand
Smashed aside the wholeness
Of my heart.
It matters not.
In what world was I a reason for
A batted eye, a cheery smile?
That though she has as bright as day
Cannot unbind the frosty thud
Of this poor muscle beating...
444 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
29th May 2014 11:09pm
29th May 2014 11:09pm
The Prisoner of Tartarus
Ether, bedsit of Zeus,
whose wispy peaks align the doors of heaven;
and bring to shame the hallowed halls of Hades seat of stone,
I entreat thee:
deliver me from this timeless torment,
this bane of lives that ceaseless strikes while dead men die alone.
What agony.
By that divinity shaped by element,
Let He who forged it cast it out from heavens throne
And free me.
Unmeant for worldly things, firmament and field alike,
the splintered shells of innocent men are left behind its wake.
Unearthly.
I pray, by...
whose wispy peaks align the doors of heaven;
and bring to shame the hallowed halls of Hades seat of stone,
I entreat thee:
deliver me from this timeless torment,
this bane of lives that ceaseless strikes while dead men die alone.
What agony.
By that divinity shaped by element,
Let He who forged it cast it out from heavens throne
And free me.
Unmeant for worldly things, firmament and field alike,
the splintered shells of innocent men are left behind its wake.
Unearthly.
I pray, by...
560 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
28th May 2014 5:53pm
28th May 2014 5:53pm
A timely problem in writing
A problem arises in writing.
The problem being that I have really nothing to say.
There is nothing really to say about such problems as these
That have left nothing but unfortunately
The really rather bad writing now here.
Here now this writing is meant to release some pain,
Some pain, some suffering,
But what pain, what suffering?
How in all of everything can it help me
When there is nothing in naught and nowhere
that can help this writing?
Attempting to continue is this pursuit
Is quite pointless as mentioned,
Yet the pen is...
The problem being that I have really nothing to say.
There is nothing really to say about such problems as these
That have left nothing but unfortunately
The really rather bad writing now here.
Here now this writing is meant to release some pain,
Some pain, some suffering,
But what pain, what suffering?
How in all of everything can it help me
When there is nothing in naught and nowhere
that can help this writing?
Attempting to continue is this pursuit
Is quite pointless as mentioned,
Yet the pen is...
844 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Jun 2013 9:14pm
13th Jun 2013 9:14pm
Wherefore art thou missing love?
Wherefore art thou missing love?
Tis not a say that I say light.
For missing thee is missing that
Which brightens all the brightest bright .
Wherefore art thou missing love?
In no abundance all around?
For countless are the lonesome souls
That still not has your presence found.
Wherefore art thou missing love?
A dwindling heart does search thee.
In taking place, an absence aches
And fears that this will always be.
Wherefore art thou missing love?
Guide not falsely, only true;
That I...
Tis not a say that I say light.
For missing thee is missing that
Which brightens all the brightest bright .
Wherefore art thou missing love?
In no abundance all around?
For countless are the lonesome souls
That still not has your presence found.
Wherefore art thou missing love?
A dwindling heart does search thee.
In taking place, an absence aches
And fears that this will always be.
Wherefore art thou missing love?
Guide not falsely, only true;
That I...
761 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th May 2013 7:04pm
28th May 2013 7:04pm
Blue
Blue.
Blue the skies.
Deep the blue escapes the eyes.
What finite earth is whole or true?
The endless blue above belies
that Time will conquer what is new
- too short the time til Time is due.
The veil of Heaven, wisps of sky,
anon til once more all is blue.
Blue the skies.
Deep the blue escapes the eyes.
What finite earth is whole or true?
The endless blue above belies
that Time will conquer what is new
- too short the time til Time is due.
The veil of Heaven, wisps of sky,
anon til once more all is blue.
618 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
5th May 2013 2:25pm
5th May 2013 2:25pm
The Strangeness's of Love
There’s a strangeness in me that thinks it not odd
That I still be in love with you so,
And in such a strangeness I find only joy
Til the time comes again that you go.
And when you are gone such a strangeness retreats,
That to speak is to utter a cry,
For the absence of you in the depths of my heart
Is a strangeness too often come by.
That I still be in love with you so,
And in such a strangeness I find only joy
Til the time comes again that you go.
And when you are gone such a strangeness retreats,
That to speak is to utter a cry,
For the absence of you in the depths of my heart
Is a strangeness too often come by.
540 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
27th Apr 2013 9:49pm
27th Apr 2013 9:49pm
It's Starting to get Cold
It's starting to get cold.
On the outside that is.
I've been cold on the inside for a while.
Not that it matters to you,
the coldness;
you give me the cold shoulder,
I give you a cold look.
The world is a cold place.
This seems fitting, being the birthplace of man.
And was there ever a species colder than he?
Man, who invented fire,
should use heat and light to do dark things, cold things.
Man, who would set alight a place of warmth - a home,
so that his fellow man would through the flame feel the cold.
To burn that which is warming,...
On the outside that is.
I've been cold on the inside for a while.
Not that it matters to you,
the coldness;
you give me the cold shoulder,
I give you a cold look.
The world is a cold place.
This seems fitting, being the birthplace of man.
And was there ever a species colder than he?
Man, who invented fire,
should use heat and light to do dark things, cold things.
Man, who would set alight a place of warmth - a home,
so that his fellow man would through the flame feel the cold.
To burn that which is warming,...
757 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
26th Apr 2013 8:26pm
26th Apr 2013 8:26pm
of Gods and Men
Weeping Skies bleed fading light
and sap the moisture from the air,
while gods bemoan their raucous might
the lands are left to mortal care.
Mercy sweet sits in her seat
but pays no heed to our despair,
and in her wake the face of Woe,
it slithers from its ancient lair.
But who are we to question she,
who knowing what we cannot know,
will mind the void her brothers made
in keeping titans caged below?
She cannot keep the joys of sleep,
to venture free escaping pain,
when once again the skies...
and sap the moisture from the air,
while gods bemoan their raucous might
the lands are left to mortal care.
Mercy sweet sits in her seat
but pays no heed to our despair,
and in her wake the face of Woe,
it slithers from its ancient lair.
But who are we to question she,
who knowing what we cannot know,
will mind the void her brothers made
in keeping titans caged below?
She cannot keep the joys of sleep,
to venture free escaping pain,
when once again the skies...
764 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Apr 2013 11:25pm
17th Apr 2013 11:25pm
When wrongly I be loving you
Love may waste my passing time
Should wrongly I be loving you.
Love is not now hers or mine
If night is spent in lonesome two.
Love is not the sacred bond
Unless it be discovered found,
From secret dwellings far beyond
And in so doing bind us bound.
Love is neither high nor low
In cosmic orders dull or bright,
Yet being all places at once
Scarce it comes when darkest night.
Love is nothing save the fact
That love is nature in its force
And when two beings come to act
Their loving feels with no remorse.
Love is in...
Should wrongly I be loving you.
Love is not now hers or mine
If night is spent in lonesome two.
Love is not the sacred bond
Unless it be discovered found,
From secret dwellings far beyond
And in so doing bind us bound.
Love is neither high nor low
In cosmic orders dull or bright,
Yet being all places at once
Scarce it comes when darkest night.
Love is nothing save the fact
That love is nature in its force
And when two beings come to act
Their loving feels with no remorse.
Love is in...
934 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by CharlesBGill (theChad1337)
