Submissions by DolphinAmbassador
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I write what I feel, and sometimes I don't feel well.
blue covered-wagon
i read a book (one,
two, three years ago)
about a girl who found a blue
covered-wagon with a
tattered tarp. on the inside,
there was a new mother,
and she was dying. the mother
told this girl to take
her baby and find it a home.
so she did. and
when she got home,
her mother’s baby had died.
so, they took the dead baby
and buried it. and put the new baby
in its crib.
without telling the mother.
and that was that.
maybe that happened to me.
maybe at the hospital, some poor,
lonely, single, teen mother...
two, three years ago)
about a girl who found a blue
covered-wagon with a
tattered tarp. on the inside,
there was a new mother,
and she was dying. the mother
told this girl to take
her baby and find it a home.
so she did. and
when she got home,
her mother’s baby had died.
so, they took the dead baby
and buried it. and put the new baby
in its crib.
without telling the mother.
and that was that.
maybe that happened to me.
maybe at the hospital, some poor,
lonely, single, teen mother...
641 reads
1 Comment
Philosophical Gibberish
What do you think about
radios and
cardboard boxes and
the quiet drip of leaky taps at night?
Tell me,
how do you feel about that?
When you look at
praying mantises and
music stands and
grazing white-tailed deer,
tell me,
what comes to your mind?
Take a moment and listen to
the clink of pans and
clucking red roosters and
my oboe’s whining tune.
Tell me,
what do they sound like?
All of these things –
emotions, sensations –
what do you think of them?
Of glasses with prisms and
dogs that need...
radios and
cardboard boxes and
the quiet drip of leaky taps at night?
Tell me,
how do you feel about that?
When you look at
praying mantises and
music stands and
grazing white-tailed deer,
tell me,
what comes to your mind?
Take a moment and listen to
the clink of pans and
clucking red roosters and
my oboe’s whining tune.
Tell me,
what do they sound like?
All of these things –
emotions, sensations –
what do you think of them?
Of glasses with prisms and
dogs that need...
513 reads
0 Comments
I Am The Cold
When you’re freezing
From the winters or the snow,
Please remember: I am the cold.
I won’t be there to warm you
In your darkest of times or
Even when tears fall from your eyes.
If you want me there, just know:
My cold is contagious,
Carcinogenic, and bold.
The steady 35º that I run
Is chilling to the core
And to everything around me.
If you touch me when you’re sad,
The cold will sting your hand,
And try to make you his.
So, for your own good,
Don’t love the cold;
He’ll bring you pain.
Leave...
From the winters or the snow,
Please remember: I am the cold.
I won’t be there to warm you
In your darkest of times or
Even when tears fall from your eyes.
If you want me there, just know:
My cold is contagious,
Carcinogenic, and bold.
The steady 35º that I run
Is chilling to the core
And to everything around me.
If you touch me when you’re sad,
The cold will sting your hand,
And try to make you his.
So, for your own good,
Don’t love the cold;
He’ll bring you pain.
Leave...
666 reads
1 Comment
Used To
Once upon a time, I could think.
But, that was before I met you.
Now I just sit here with my triplets.
I used to be able to write.
The words’d be flying across a page
Appearing behind my flashing cursor.
They don’t really do that anymore.
My words trudge now, in kind of
A dizzy walk across the page.
I used to be able to splatter feelings
All over my Word documents.
But I can’t do that anymore.
The only thing I feel now
Is this confused happiness.
Who decided to let me be happy?
I don’t want to write about...
But, that was before I met you.
Now I just sit here with my triplets.
I used to be able to write.
The words’d be flying across a page
Appearing behind my flashing cursor.
They don’t really do that anymore.
My words trudge now, in kind of
A dizzy walk across the page.
I used to be able to splatter feelings
All over my Word documents.
But I can’t do that anymore.
The only thing I feel now
Is this confused happiness.
Who decided to let me be happy?
I don’t want to write about...
543 reads
1 Comment
Good Person
I’m a good person.
So what if I pull some strings?
I’m a good person.
Whatever you think that means.
Each day I stumble blindly
And pull myself along.
But while I stumble blindly
At least I know what’s wrong.
The common people dance around
And they enjoy their day.
They’re happy to cluelessly dance around
But they’re wrong in every way.
They are loud, and they are proud
And they treat this world like shit.
They act proud and they are proud
Because they don’t know it’s not worth it.
These fools joke around...
So what if I pull some strings?
I’m a good person.
Whatever you think that means.
Each day I stumble blindly
And pull myself along.
But while I stumble blindly
At least I know what’s wrong.
The common people dance around
And they enjoy their day.
They’re happy to cluelessly dance around
But they’re wrong in every way.
They are loud, and they are proud
And they treat this world like shit.
They act proud and they are proud
Because they don’t know it’s not worth it.
These fools joke around...
599 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by DolphinAmbassador
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