Submissions by DeathnoteWhovian
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Enthusiastic amature... Words and Music are the only ways I can express myself :D
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Jul 2015 4:59pm
8th Jul 2015 4:59pm
Your colour - my rainbow
My heart can shine all colours but one;
The missing link,
The deceiving compass,
The dire strength.
Your majestic colours have completed me, I am whole and I am found.
The missing link,
The deceiving compass,
The dire strength.
Your majestic colours have completed me, I am whole and I am found.
658 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Jul 2015 5:44pm
6th Jul 2015 5:44pm
My overgrown garden
Oh how I love my Overgrown garden,
the endless travel between towering blades of grass
home to insects
protruding bushes and weeds
Home to others
Some say it isn't neat, I say it is how it should be
the endless travel between towering blades of grass
home to insects
protruding bushes and weeds
Home to others
Some say it isn't neat, I say it is how it should be
703 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th Jun 2015 10:15am
29th Jun 2015 10:15am
The weekday's judgment.
Tomorrow is indeed another day
yet yesterday still happened
the effortless evaluation standing high.
The difference being a significant dominator – ambition.
The prize is to be all the more bitter sweet
if presented by the losing team.
To gaze upon them in such saccharine sympathy
worn on my face, an eyeless mask.
The act of contemplation and exaggeration
both present in equal measures
to be discarded and humiliated
by coequal foes and demanding friends.
yet yesterday still happened
the effortless evaluation standing high.
The difference being a significant dominator – ambition.
The prize is to be all the more bitter sweet
if presented by the losing team.
To gaze upon them in such saccharine sympathy
worn on my face, an eyeless mask.
The act of contemplation and exaggeration
both present in equal measures
to be discarded and humiliated
by coequal foes and demanding friends.
595 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th Jun 2015 2:01pm
27th Jun 2015 2:01pm
Tomorrow's song
How blind are the eyes that tomorrow can see,
yet how clear yesterday sees tomorrow.
A deaf ear hears the pain, the regret and always the sorrow.
The past dictates at a wicked rate, to forge, conspire and accumulate
the songs ill not sing tomorrow but truly heard yesterday are promised to be sung in the past.
When considered and loved it always shows that the lyrics were wrong anyway.
In an hour or less ill sway to a different beat the notes will find their way from my head and to my feet to carry me away from this tale of woe. To paint an image of happiness...
yet how clear yesterday sees tomorrow.
A deaf ear hears the pain, the regret and always the sorrow.
The past dictates at a wicked rate, to forge, conspire and accumulate
the songs ill not sing tomorrow but truly heard yesterday are promised to be sung in the past.
When considered and loved it always shows that the lyrics were wrong anyway.
In an hour or less ill sway to a different beat the notes will find their way from my head and to my feet to carry me away from this tale of woe. To paint an image of happiness...
679 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Jun 2015 8:59pm
22nd Jun 2015 8:59pm
Choking on an empty sob
Deep within myself, hides another being.
One who can feel and sun on their skin and disintegrate under its judgmental beams.
One who can cry when they need to and not choke on an empty sob.
One who can tell themselves to get up and do what needs to be done.
Then there is me - on the outside, holding the 'one' down.
One who can feel and sun on their skin and disintegrate under its judgmental beams.
One who can cry when they need to and not choke on an empty sob.
One who can tell themselves to get up and do what needs to be done.
Then there is me - on the outside, holding the 'one' down.
667 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Jun 2015 00:38am
22nd Jun 2015 00:38am
She
She sits, drowning in over contemplation and despair.
Dreading yet another second that will tick to a minute, which will pass into an hour which will drag into a day.
Knowing she will suffer the performance of a bitter sweet lie painted on her face above her chin and under her nose.
So long as you look you'll see it there - reflections of over contemplation and despair.
Dreading yet another second that will tick to a minute, which will pass into an hour which will drag into a day.
Knowing she will suffer the performance of a bitter sweet lie painted on her face above her chin and under her nose.
So long as you look you'll see it there - reflections of over contemplation and despair.
601 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
19th Jun 2015 1:35am
19th Jun 2015 1:35am
Grand confines P2/2
Unease is heavy and doubt high. I'll never close the door opened too many times. Never can I stop myself from walking through the creaking frame once more.
Perhaps not
This time was the last, I have sworn to myself of that. I am not trapped in a prison of stone and metal. I am not encased in a pitch black fog, of with entering results in being digested slowly by supernatural being of pitiful sorts.
I am not blind to the outside world - just walking passed closed curtains that blindfold cracked panes of glass and splintered wood.
I take my fist and throw it...
Perhaps not
This time was the last, I have sworn to myself of that. I am not trapped in a prison of stone and metal. I am not encased in a pitch black fog, of with entering results in being digested slowly by supernatural being of pitiful sorts.
I am not blind to the outside world - just walking passed closed curtains that blindfold cracked panes of glass and splintered wood.
I take my fist and throw it...
616 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
19th Jun 2015 1:32am
19th Jun 2015 1:32am
Grand confines P1/2
Idea of a castle was from Ian, my own spin was added, thanks Ian :3]
The echoes from my being bounce from wall to wall in a heated whisper of panicked conversation.
My laboured breaths from beaten lungs and humidity fill the air with a wheezing layer.
My careful footsteps from worn shoes on stone cold floors mock my footfall with a repetitive pitter patter.
My pointless whimpers which are defiantly escaping from my dried mouth dance with my attempted breaths to the ballads of my suffering.
And the shadows that hang above and all around me...
The echoes from my being bounce from wall to wall in a heated whisper of panicked conversation.
My laboured breaths from beaten lungs and humidity fill the air with a wheezing layer.
My careful footsteps from worn shoes on stone cold floors mock my footfall with a repetitive pitter patter.
My pointless whimpers which are defiantly escaping from my dried mouth dance with my attempted breaths to the ballads of my suffering.
And the shadows that hang above and all around me...
613 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
17th Jun 2015 10:49pm
17th Jun 2015 10:49pm
I guess guess God just had writer's block
At the lower stages of my life I often ponder.
At what point did the lord say that I should embody depression and anxiety.
When was it that he said that I should feel empty and numb and hate my own reflection.
The answer unknown, yet perhaps it's that he wanted me to grow from my suffering?
Or perhaps he had writer's block and filled it with teenage cliché rubbish.
[As a christian, this sounds far to insulting, more than I intended ... I do not blame the lord for my problems]
At what point did the lord say that I should embody depression and anxiety.
When was it that he said that I should feel empty and numb and hate my own reflection.
The answer unknown, yet perhaps it's that he wanted me to grow from my suffering?
Or perhaps he had writer's block and filled it with teenage cliché rubbish.
[As a christian, this sounds far to insulting, more than I intended ... I do not blame the lord for my problems]
658 reads
2 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
14th Jun 2015 1:50pm
14th Jun 2015 1:50pm
Good F***ing morning!
The golden sun shines down on me in the morning, showing me what k have been missing all this time.
The morning birds sing their song at the tip if their voice, feeding the world compliments.
I awaken ... WITH A HEADACHE FROM THE HEAT AND CONSTANT TWEETS.
I open the window and drag that bird in with a simple twist, crack the tweeting stops.
I'll close the window and the curtains and return to the shadows of eternal sleep in peace.
The morning birds sing their song at the tip if their voice, feeding the world compliments.
I awaken ... WITH A HEADACHE FROM THE HEAT AND CONSTANT TWEETS.
I open the window and drag that bird in with a simple twist, crack the tweeting stops.
I'll close the window and the curtains and return to the shadows of eternal sleep in peace.
767 reads
8 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Jun 2015 7:31pm
13th Jun 2015 7:31pm
YOU, yes YOU are beautiful.
YOU, yes YOU are beautiful.
I use words everyday and yet I am still unable to tell you what you need to hear.
I know you are not likely to trust what I say, just please know that I BELIEVE it - because I truly do.
Put simply - you are beautiful, I'll try not to put this to you personally so I'll just post it and hope you stumble across it.
This is directly to YOU, whoever you want to be, however you're feeling - you are sublime and you are worthy.
These are the words of a friend yes - but not limited to...
They are the words of honesty....
I use words everyday and yet I am still unable to tell you what you need to hear.
I know you are not likely to trust what I say, just please know that I BELIEVE it - because I truly do.
Put simply - you are beautiful, I'll try not to put this to you personally so I'll just post it and hope you stumble across it.
This is directly to YOU, whoever you want to be, however you're feeling - you are sublime and you are worthy.
These are the words of a friend yes - but not limited to...
They are the words of honesty....
1075 reads
3 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
10th Jun 2015 11:46am
10th Jun 2015 11:46am
My room full of demons
Thoughts thrust into the darkest of corners through fear of glimpses of pure sunlight from above.
Under the floor boards lie the dead and buried positive emotions - through promise of their release long forgotten and broken.
In the closet hide all the fears and anxieties ... The dark faces that watch me and the horrific concerns.
Under the bed lurk all the monsters ready to grasp at my unconscious body and leave insecurities behind with a bonus of self doubt.
It's proven by me that there is no safe Haven anymore... Where I take up space so do my daemons ......
Under the floor boards lie the dead and buried positive emotions - through promise of their release long forgotten and broken.
In the closet hide all the fears and anxieties ... The dark faces that watch me and the horrific concerns.
Under the bed lurk all the monsters ready to grasp at my unconscious body and leave insecurities behind with a bonus of self doubt.
It's proven by me that there is no safe Haven anymore... Where I take up space so do my daemons ......
742 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by DeathnoteWhovian
