Submissions by DecipherMe
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I love to write poetry more than anything in the world. I even break my heart at times to see what words I can generate. I want to inspire deeper feelings. I write religious topics and pagan mythology along with violent happiness and depressed titillation
A Sudden Fall and a Romantic Imagination
Close your eyes and it'll go away.
Close your eyes and the wheel will spin a jackpot and you won't have to see the dizzying roll of the many lesser fortunes as they pass as a whirling wind at the change of seasons.
Rebreath the breath of life
skeleton down on the dessert crust.
The Las Vegas strip won't keep you anymore.
To each his or her own path.
In the end you die with no one you originally knew around,
so to progress one must factor in the room for losses.
Two roads diverged, but I am not exceptional.
I am data for a societal statistic.
I...
Close your eyes and the wheel will spin a jackpot and you won't have to see the dizzying roll of the many lesser fortunes as they pass as a whirling wind at the change of seasons.
Rebreath the breath of life
skeleton down on the dessert crust.
The Las Vegas strip won't keep you anymore.
To each his or her own path.
In the end you die with no one you originally knew around,
so to progress one must factor in the room for losses.
Two roads diverged, but I am not exceptional.
I am data for a societal statistic.
I...
653 reads
1 Comment
A Letter to a Proud Woman
Your thoughts are voices in my head
like a strange telepathy that vibrates like cymbals.
Wild leaves of the evergreen in summer shadow.
The time may come when everything ceases to have differences.
That is when it ceases to have its autonomous identity,
but you will always be a woman to me
breaking the world with your changing pace
like a free stallion trotting over open fields of the plain
and watching with your attentive eyes that reflect moonbeam like silver mercury
the road ahead...
like a strange telepathy that vibrates like cymbals.
Wild leaves of the evergreen in summer shadow.
The time may come when everything ceases to have differences.
That is when it ceases to have its autonomous identity,
but you will always be a woman to me
breaking the world with your changing pace
like a free stallion trotting over open fields of the plain
and watching with your attentive eyes that reflect moonbeam like silver mercury
the road ahead...
702 reads
3 Comments
Fresh though Older than Me
Golden sun, aging so slowly
amidst the darkness of this world,
speak to me, to me.
And when the words move like liquid through the canal of your throat
and slide down the slippery honey of your tongue,
my mind goes to that mouth that does all your speaking,
and the energy I had lost for love has returned.
amidst the darkness of this world,
speak to me, to me.
And when the words move like liquid through the canal of your throat
and slide down the slippery honey of your tongue,
my mind goes to that mouth that does all your speaking,
and the energy I had lost for love has returned.
710 reads
3 Comments
A Night That I Call My Own
The night crept over the sky that was dazed and blue before, not noticing the shadow overtaking it.
Night is a ghost, the eclipse of life and the consummation of reality and the liberator of the unconscious in the ambiguity of the dreams.
I don't know why I am awake. My eyes couldn't seem to shut
when the lids of the celestial dome were allowed to rest
with the light of sun fastened out from the security of the closed heavenly doors.
I cannot imagine what I lack this night.
I suppose better luck for tomorrow.
The nights are so safe within the gates, and the...
Night is a ghost, the eclipse of life and the consummation of reality and the liberator of the unconscious in the ambiguity of the dreams.
I don't know why I am awake. My eyes couldn't seem to shut
when the lids of the celestial dome were allowed to rest
with the light of sun fastened out from the security of the closed heavenly doors.
I cannot imagine what I lack this night.
I suppose better luck for tomorrow.
The nights are so safe within the gates, and the...
803 reads
1 Comment
The Melancholy of Realizing the Need to Go on
If
I am forgotten, do I still exist?
I am afraid that I am slowly vanishing.
The light shines on my gradually translucent skin
ridden of the solidness of human ambition.
I am dying to the world, but I am crying to myself.
If
I am no longer with the friends I love and my old company,
is life nostalgia and the rest of my existence the abyss of death?
There is no afterlife while you remain on earth,
so when you're dead on earth, you walk in place
by the blueness of a stormy sea
where the tears flow,
where the tears flow.
This I have...
I am forgotten, do I still exist?
I am afraid that I am slowly vanishing.
The light shines on my gradually translucent skin
ridden of the solidness of human ambition.
I am dying to the world, but I am crying to myself.
If
I am no longer with the friends I love and my old company,
is life nostalgia and the rest of my existence the abyss of death?
There is no afterlife while you remain on earth,
so when you're dead on earth, you walk in place
by the blueness of a stormy sea
where the tears flow,
where the tears flow.
This I have...
595 reads
0 Comments
Hush: the Things I May Never Know
Pain for promise, a moon revealed by the existence of a shadow,
I do not comprehend the melancholic happiness that overfills the hearts to the brink.
The things they do to maintain a bond that troubles them
because they love it.
I would spit out the good part in anticipation of a later impurity sweeping across my tongue as I would continue to bite in-
to the bread of life.
The things they do to maintain a bond that troubles them
because they love it.
They love it, why?
Some fear plays at high frequency in the muscle that hides away in...
I do not comprehend the melancholic happiness that overfills the hearts to the brink.
The things they do to maintain a bond that troubles them
because they love it.
I would spit out the good part in anticipation of a later impurity sweeping across my tongue as I would continue to bite in-
to the bread of life.
The things they do to maintain a bond that troubles them
because they love it.
They love it, why?
Some fear plays at high frequency in the muscle that hides away in...
623 reads
2 Comments
The Citizen of the Blue Celestial Dome and the Shadow of Damnation
A book flies from the shelf, and the roof cracks as a hand breaks through and shows me the blue heavenlies.
"Read the book! Read the book, young hero, before death comes,"
a strange voice whispers inside my mind as I sense the reaper shadow rising from behind me.
The book's aroma is euphoric as I break it's seal and flip through
the flimsy ancient pages, and a man screams from the library's entrance room.
He is jealous that I get life and death first.
Death massages out the knots in my back while the naked lady in the sky reaches out...
"Read the book! Read the book, young hero, before death comes,"
a strange voice whispers inside my mind as I sense the reaper shadow rising from behind me.
The book's aroma is euphoric as I break it's seal and flip through
the flimsy ancient pages, and a man screams from the library's entrance room.
He is jealous that I get life and death first.
Death massages out the knots in my back while the naked lady in the sky reaches out...
624 reads
0 Comments
The Most Humane of War
Fallen,
I'm staring down the throat of forthcoming death.
Why do you want to live Mr. Jaguar?
Gripping the rifle at my side, I wonder who has more to live for.
The white long teeth and red tongue.
I wish I was home at dinner right now
feasting on the cooked carcasses of creatures I didn't have to know,
back there in my mother's arms.
Its tongue whips the air, and the jaguar snarls.
Walking down to me
through the earth's green and dusty rubble.
Marks are left by its paws.
Mr. Jaguar, do you know what it's like to be human?...
I'm staring down the throat of forthcoming death.
Why do you want to live Mr. Jaguar?
Gripping the rifle at my side, I wonder who has more to live for.
The white long teeth and red tongue.
I wish I was home at dinner right now
feasting on the cooked carcasses of creatures I didn't have to know,
back there in my mother's arms.
Its tongue whips the air, and the jaguar snarls.
Walking down to me
through the earth's green and dusty rubble.
Marks are left by its paws.
Mr. Jaguar, do you know what it's like to be human?...
696 reads
0 Comments
Lower the Anchor of the North Star
I feel so small in between my arms. My mind has already accelerated to the North Star.
A deconstructed tune plays off my heart,
and I hum like a gentle violin.
Blending into the Sistine chapel walls
I hear secrets that are not becoming of a painter.
Oh, well, if walls could talk...
and all of those hypothetics.
I won't speak. I'll just try to look beautiful.
Don't touch me. Don't touch me.
Just stare into my eyes of innocent beauty.
It is at moments as these that I want to realize...
A deconstructed tune plays off my heart,
and I hum like a gentle violin.
Blending into the Sistine chapel walls
I hear secrets that are not becoming of a painter.
Oh, well, if walls could talk...
and all of those hypothetics.
I won't speak. I'll just try to look beautiful.
Don't touch me. Don't touch me.
Just stare into my eyes of innocent beauty.
It is at moments as these that I want to realize...
635 reads
0 Comments
Engaged Evergreens of the Wood
Summer is a thing that is young and immortal.
Summer is a euphemism for life.
My skin burns, but to know that it was free to burn
is why summer is so lovely.
A heart was locked in a box in social ineptness
and couldn't feel the existence of other hearts.
Lo and behold, the box was opened and the heart freed.
A fellow heart met it, and the latter was frightened into retreat.
The cool of the box chilled the heart with embrace.
The heart fell in love with the box.
We hearts were born to love each other
but away from each other
we can only...
Summer is a euphemism for life.
My skin burns, but to know that it was free to burn
is why summer is so lovely.
A heart was locked in a box in social ineptness
and couldn't feel the existence of other hearts.
Lo and behold, the box was opened and the heart freed.
A fellow heart met it, and the latter was frightened into retreat.
The cool of the box chilled the heart with embrace.
The heart fell in love with the box.
We hearts were born to love each other
but away from each other
we can only...
641 reads
3 Comments
A Tear's Final Bravado
The sky floats to the space beyond me
thrust by the pillar of clouds.
The others play with the clouds coming to meet the sun we all love
while I fall reaching a hand for what I never could have known.
They can fly!
Those celestial hybrids that are so much more representative of human evolution.
I fall like a teardrop that was torn from the dreamy horizon
upon the horizon's discovery that sometimes dreams don't come true
and that she, the horizon, would never be touched or held
or know...
thrust by the pillar of clouds.
The others play with the clouds coming to meet the sun we all love
while I fall reaching a hand for what I never could have known.
They can fly!
Those celestial hybrids that are so much more representative of human evolution.
I fall like a teardrop that was torn from the dreamy horizon
upon the horizon's discovery that sometimes dreams don't come true
and that she, the horizon, would never be touched or held
or know...
697 reads
6 Comments
The Goddess that Lives On and On
Hand through lightly pigmented curls,
what tropical fragrance do you bring me?
The cherry pop that passed through her mouth with red suspires through the clean tentacles of her conditioned locks that beg to
experience the world
and to be experienced by a lingering stroke.
The smell of red.
I ease onto your shoulder. Then my head collapses into your lap, and your face becomes my sky.
One moment of humility in the presence of the one
who truly loves me knocked me down to be praying to your heavens
(because I have always figured ...
what tropical fragrance do you bring me?
The cherry pop that passed through her mouth with red suspires through the clean tentacles of her conditioned locks that beg to
experience the world
and to be experienced by a lingering stroke.
The smell of red.
I ease onto your shoulder. Then my head collapses into your lap, and your face becomes my sky.
One moment of humility in the presence of the one
who truly loves me knocked me down to be praying to your heavens
(because I have always figured ...
723 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by DecipherMe