Submissions by DeathnoteWhovian
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Enthusiastic amature... Words and Music are the only ways I can express myself :D
DARK POEM
Published
28th May 2015 9:29am
28th May 2015 9:29am
Burn me when the light goes out.
We have a say in how our bodies are disposed of after death ... I know my choices. When faced with the options provided it isn't difficult.
Our bodies can...
Be lowered into the ground surrounded by your loved ones all mourning your death. Laying they're helpless allowing the embalming fluid to wear of. Allow your body to decompose. The flesh will slowly peel from the muscle, sperate like islands do from one another.
The only company being selfish hungry maggots. Soon all you would be is a box full of bones and possessions provided to keep you loved and entertained;...
Our bodies can...
Be lowered into the ground surrounded by your loved ones all mourning your death. Laying they're helpless allowing the embalming fluid to wear of. Allow your body to decompose. The flesh will slowly peel from the muscle, sperate like islands do from one another.
The only company being selfish hungry maggots. Soon all you would be is a box full of bones and possessions provided to keep you loved and entertained;...
691 reads
6 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
28th May 2015 9:28am
28th May 2015 9:28am
The empty hearse...
When granted with the choice what would you fear most... A visit from an embalmed corpse dressed perfectly or an empty hearse?
I believe I'll fear the latter, though I wouldn't cherish the former.
Just the idea that the hearse would have come to take me to rest is more haunting that a zombie.
A wooden box with my name on it. A row of cars following it to the church in which I'll receive my final blessing. The red hot furnace ready to engulf me. The urn I'll be kept in forever.
Who'll remember me? What would they fear the most? Me or the hearse?
I believe I'll fear the latter, though I wouldn't cherish the former.
Just the idea that the hearse would have come to take me to rest is more haunting that a zombie.
A wooden box with my name on it. A row of cars following it to the church in which I'll receive my final blessing. The red hot furnace ready to engulf me. The urn I'll be kept in forever.
Who'll remember me? What would they fear the most? Me or the hearse?
680 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
27th May 2015 2:19pm
27th May 2015 2:19pm
What of the words we write
Once my words are read, what becomes of them? I write without a particular style, often lacking reason or purpose.
Who I write as changes also ... I can be a struggling teenager, an observant young woman, an abusive male or no one.
I am more myself when I am no one. More at comfort when alone to write. More loved when I am lost.
I can't say I have hopes for my writing, perhaps a matter of insecurity or disbelief?
Does a good point need a notable structure? Not at all my strong point.
What will become of my writing, my thoughts, my views, my...
Who I write as changes also ... I can be a struggling teenager, an observant young woman, an abusive male or no one.
I am more myself when I am no one. More at comfort when alone to write. More loved when I am lost.
I can't say I have hopes for my writing, perhaps a matter of insecurity or disbelief?
Does a good point need a notable structure? Not at all my strong point.
What will become of my writing, my thoughts, my views, my...
690 reads
6 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
21st May 2015 6:54pm
21st May 2015 6:54pm
Peter pan ... the soul collector.
Crowd around children for a story that's Gordy. Not quite as magical as the original but fair in comparison.
Who has asked what happened when we die? Where do we go and what do we see?
Are we faced with a world pearly gates or an eternal blazing pit of fire?
Or are we shown the wonders of red Indians, pirates, mermaids, troublesome shadow and jealous fairy's.
Wendy, Michael and George did.
One night their parents left them in the safe hands of Nana and the family servants for a night of dancing and posh chatter.
It's not very often that...
Who has asked what happened when we die? Where do we go and what do we see?
Are we faced with a world pearly gates or an eternal blazing pit of fire?
Or are we shown the wonders of red Indians, pirates, mermaids, troublesome shadow and jealous fairy's.
Wendy, Michael and George did.
One night their parents left them in the safe hands of Nana and the family servants for a night of dancing and posh chatter.
It's not very often that...
756 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th May 2015 10:36pm
18th May 2015 10:36pm
Sluthed symbol
In a world where the only light is a flicker from a cheaply made candle on a stale winters evening, we must all hold onto the shadows cast at any moment. Guard any warning light that you are still alive; for any signal of existence is nothing short of a blessing – numbness being the curse.
Shield yourself from the forbidding cursed compliments received from both friend and foe. Build your suit of armour, black as night to intermingle with such a depraved sun the universe offers. Inhale the cruel still winds, from lung to lung if that’s what you need to survive.
Become your...
Shield yourself from the forbidding cursed compliments received from both friend and foe. Build your suit of armour, black as night to intermingle with such a depraved sun the universe offers. Inhale the cruel still winds, from lung to lung if that’s what you need to survive.
Become your...
680 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
17th May 2015 7:27pm
17th May 2015 7:27pm
The Boa Constrictor at my lungs
Life has a hold on me stronger than I have a hold on life. My defeat stands like when smoke and air mix - visible yet clouded.
As the fog wraps itself lovingly around my lungs, natures boa constrictor, I allow it to squeeze the life from within me - breath by breath.
All is black and I am lost
As the fog wraps itself lovingly around my lungs, natures boa constrictor, I allow it to squeeze the life from within me - breath by breath.
All is black and I am lost
616 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
16th May 2015 9:28am
16th May 2015 9:28am
Help! A prayer.
Father,
Many things are troubling me.
I have friends in plight
A mother and uncle in distress
And sisters I cannot see.
My friends are lost
Hiding their pain
Find them father
send me the cost.
I'll hold their hand
When they need it
Help me support them
Help me understand.
My mother and uncle do their best.
Not giving in
But under pressure
They're strong but demonstrably stressed
I'll hold their hand
When they needs it
Help me support them
Help me understand.
My sisters ignored...
Many things are troubling me.
I have friends in plight
A mother and uncle in distress
And sisters I cannot see.
My friends are lost
Hiding their pain
Find them father
send me the cost.
I'll hold their hand
When they need it
Help me support them
Help me understand.
My mother and uncle do their best.
Not giving in
But under pressure
They're strong but demonstrably stressed
I'll hold their hand
When they needs it
Help me support them
Help me understand.
My sisters ignored...
713 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th May 2015 00:00am
14th May 2015 00:00am
Blissful, controlled Mutilation.
605 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th May 2015 11:58pm
13th May 2015 11:58pm
Silver lining? Rubbish.
I expect people to know what I want, with out having to say it.
I'm always being analysed anyway.
Like when they 'just let it out' do they even know how that sounds. Patronizing, duplicitous and out of bounds.
I bury all emotion deeper than six feet under. Hid the sins with a shovel and tons of mud.
"Be your self and be proud. Hold on to you." Don't let them change you, it's what they want to do.
Cope how you want to. Then peace can be found. On the other side of the tunnel. Or beneath the shroud.
I'm always being analysed anyway.
Like when they 'just let it out' do they even know how that sounds. Patronizing, duplicitous and out of bounds.
I bury all emotion deeper than six feet under. Hid the sins with a shovel and tons of mud.
"Be your self and be proud. Hold on to you." Don't let them change you, it's what they want to do.
Cope how you want to. Then peace can be found. On the other side of the tunnel. Or beneath the shroud.
653 reads
2 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
11th May 2015 6:02pm
11th May 2015 6:02pm
You won't scratch mine ... but claw! Part Two
YOU DON'T CARE FOR ME
NEVER ASKED YOU TO
BUT STILL
I'LL ALWAYS BE THERE FOR YOU.
YOU SPONGE OF MY KINDNESS
AND HIDE FROM THE TRUTH
KIND WORDS AND PREETY LIES
ARE WHAT I MUST FEED YOU.
I AM YOUR SUPPORT
TO ALWAYS HOLD YOU UP.
YOU ARE MY GRAVE DIGGER,
BURYING ME BENEATH THE MUD.
I'LL MOURNE YOUR DEATH,
YOU'LL MOURNE MINE TOO.
NOT BECAUSE YOU MISS ME
BUT YOU MISS THE 'FREEBIES'
NEVER ASKED YOU TO
BUT STILL
I'LL ALWAYS BE THERE FOR YOU.
YOU SPONGE OF MY KINDNESS
AND HIDE FROM THE TRUTH
KIND WORDS AND PREETY LIES
ARE WHAT I MUST FEED YOU.
I AM YOUR SUPPORT
TO ALWAYS HOLD YOU UP.
YOU ARE MY GRAVE DIGGER,
BURYING ME BENEATH THE MUD.
I'LL MOURNE YOUR DEATH,
YOU'LL MOURNE MINE TOO.
NOT BECAUSE YOU MISS ME
BUT YOU MISS THE 'FREEBIES'
597 reads
9 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th May 2015 6:01pm
11th May 2015 6:01pm
"I'll scratch your back..." Part one
I can say I want to help you
I can't say I know how.
The right words are hard to find.
Where exactly are you now.
I'll put aside my problems
And make room for yours.
Don't worry I'll not ignore mine
I promise, it's one of my flaws.
Everyone else comes first
For I make sure of that.
Hearing you isn't a chore
Your anxieties we'll combat.
Allow me to help
Your friend I will be.
I'll always help you
You don't have to help me
I can't say I know how.
The right words are hard to find.
Where exactly are you now.
I'll put aside my problems
And make room for yours.
Don't worry I'll not ignore mine
I promise, it's one of my flaws.
Everyone else comes first
For I make sure of that.
Hearing you isn't a chore
Your anxieties we'll combat.
Allow me to help
Your friend I will be.
I'll always help you
You don't have to help me
758 reads
13 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th May 2015 8:18pm
9th May 2015 8:18pm
I am hated (interpretation)
(Poetic interpretation of Slipknot's 'I am Hated')
The world is alone
As are we.
Blatantly the despised
Minority.
Live by there rules,
Or make ones own.
We shall stand our ground,
Refuse to atone.
We all have a story,
What makes ours so special?
In this world, It's give all
Or have all.
We're worth more
Than all of them think?
Should we let their opinions matter?
If we do, we'll not rise but sink.
Social norms, what are they?
Can't afford to know them.
When I want to do is
Break them.
...
The world is alone
As are we.
Blatantly the despised
Minority.
Live by there rules,
Or make ones own.
We shall stand our ground,
Refuse to atone.
We all have a story,
What makes ours so special?
In this world, It's give all
Or have all.
We're worth more
Than all of them think?
Should we let their opinions matter?
If we do, we'll not rise but sink.
Social norms, what are they?
Can't afford to know them.
When I want to do is
Break them.
...
601 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by DeathnoteWhovian
