Submissions by Donchonorgo (Louis Lee Warner)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SELF POEM
Published
11th Feb 2010 5:56pm
11th Feb 2010 5:56pm
Attack.
Be silent - inflamed feasts, alleviate your writhing-
I know you feel agony and leak your slimy tears.
And don’t I?
Follow in the same grimy steps as your bloody radula-
And spray the same ink – And crush the same
Crustaceans.
Your cuttlebones are fractured, alike my reason.
Your fleshy three fates, pulsating with your threads,
Oozing balloons.
But calm your spectrums, for I am certain – you’re
Just as lethal as your blue-ringed friend, as capable
Of a murder.
Sepia stains – they paint your lands, you’re making such
A...
I know you feel agony and leak your slimy tears.
And don’t I?
Follow in the same grimy steps as your bloody radula-
And spray the same ink – And crush the same
Crustaceans.
Your cuttlebones are fractured, alike my reason.
Your fleshy three fates, pulsating with your threads,
Oozing balloons.
But calm your spectrums, for I am certain – you’re
Just as lethal as your blue-ringed friend, as capable
Of a murder.
Sepia stains – they paint your lands, you’re making such
A...
718 reads
0 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
8th Feb 2010 3:05am
8th Feb 2010 3:05am
Panic.
Here I am, wasting sleep – and extrapolating onto others
The former great slumbers.
The resting of hunger and the easing of ego and the
Mundane procrastinations that we all gorge upon-
Feasting until the final great sleep.
Ingestion to halt the final great sleep, alas:
I am not Bipolar and I am not psychotic
And I do not have Cancer and I do not have AIDs
And I retain both makers and I dwell in warmth
And Doctors care not for me and I still have intercourse
And I am not a slave, therefore:
I must not be ill.
So why, oh race of...
The former great slumbers.
The resting of hunger and the easing of ego and the
Mundane procrastinations that we all gorge upon-
Feasting until the final great sleep.
Ingestion to halt the final great sleep, alas:
I am not Bipolar and I am not psychotic
And I do not have Cancer and I do not have AIDs
And I retain both makers and I dwell in warmth
And Doctors care not for me and I still have intercourse
And I am not a slave, therefore:
I must not be ill.
So why, oh race of...
952 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
4th Feb 2010 00:45am
4th Feb 2010 00:45am
Death.
At first I was a gooey thought-
A liquid desire with a moist sheath.
One that grew for nine pained seconds
Till a little blood twisted in the flaccid fellow
That wept a little innocence
Through a fleeting, light spanking.
Hairs grow evident, as does shrill sweat
Which teases the outlets – breached in secret
Touch and taste become twinning gods
That coronate heavy panting
Through a fiery, deep lament.
Temperamental diving, with only swoops
Can I rise to tease mastery with my tongue?
And grip something concrete to find permanency?...
A liquid desire with a moist sheath.
One that grew for nine pained seconds
Till a little blood twisted in the flaccid fellow
That wept a little innocence
Through a fleeting, light spanking.
Hairs grow evident, as does shrill sweat
Which teases the outlets – breached in secret
Touch and taste become twinning gods
That coronate heavy panting
Through a fiery, deep lament.
Temperamental diving, with only swoops
Can I rise to tease mastery with my tongue?
And grip something concrete to find permanency?...
946 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
2nd Feb 2010 9:04pm
2nd Feb 2010 9:04pm
Dizzy Waltz.
The playing board is grizzly grey,
Its maggot fluffed
And termite lame.
The playing pieces a pewter façade
Oh petrified minis
Weeping resins.
The rolling die is a clotty nub,
Cuticle-crinkled
And:
Break: the time is sliced into trine
Beached, brine – the tang of salt,
The tastes of oceans that consume
And embodied sweetened spelling,
Time expostulates – and gives birth to waves
And waves entrench time
And:
The gritty street is pavement-chic,
It’s Omni-gummed
And horny-garbed.
The grimy coast a slimy...
Its maggot fluffed
And termite lame.
The playing pieces a pewter façade
Oh petrified minis
Weeping resins.
The rolling die is a clotty nub,
Cuticle-crinkled
And:
Break: the time is sliced into trine
Beached, brine – the tang of salt,
The tastes of oceans that consume
And embodied sweetened spelling,
Time expostulates – and gives birth to waves
And waves entrench time
And:
The gritty street is pavement-chic,
It’s Omni-gummed
And horny-garbed.
The grimy coast a slimy...
955 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
26th Jan 2010 8:27pm
26th Jan 2010 8:27pm
Coronation.
Hello Sun - tender king, you’ve an appointment with our skies,
And with our lochs, and with my meat, and with the concrete-shielded Earth.
We’ve the package of our scents, and of our essence – to deliver;
Don’t be tardy - gentle Sun, for the only recipient you are not,
With metal hands, all calm and crypt, comes the ovule of your enemy:
The Nano-Queen in her pewter glory – the twisted granddaughter of Gaia herself.
So make haste, Lord, to bind our needles before we dimly begin to shape
Monsters of such magnificence that our eyes begin to grey,
Monsters of...
And with our lochs, and with my meat, and with the concrete-shielded Earth.
We’ve the package of our scents, and of our essence – to deliver;
Don’t be tardy - gentle Sun, for the only recipient you are not,
With metal hands, all calm and crypt, comes the ovule of your enemy:
The Nano-Queen in her pewter glory – the twisted granddaughter of Gaia herself.
So make haste, Lord, to bind our needles before we dimly begin to shape
Monsters of such magnificence that our eyes begin to grey,
Monsters of...
839 reads
1 Comment
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
24th Jan 2010 3:53pm
24th Jan 2010 3:53pm
Yggdrasil.
I spit on your lilies, Oh, fie on your weeping,
My atoms bear no emotes, just plastic thane:
Who governs all yet understands nought.
So make inferno from my coffin’s wood;
And writhe, unclothed, in circles of appetite
So that the divinity of ignorance can thrive
Like leeches breaching the skin of a youth’s leg,
And I’ll silently wait for the serpent to twist
With the shrivelled Old Three, remain very quaint-
I’ll hold their blade and bathe their gross feet;
After all, it’s a living.
I run to your girth, oh, timber most blessed,
And suck...
My atoms bear no emotes, just plastic thane:
Who governs all yet understands nought.
So make inferno from my coffin’s wood;
And writhe, unclothed, in circles of appetite
So that the divinity of ignorance can thrive
Like leeches breaching the skin of a youth’s leg,
And I’ll silently wait for the serpent to twist
With the shrivelled Old Three, remain very quaint-
I’ll hold their blade and bathe their gross feet;
After all, it’s a living.
I run to your girth, oh, timber most blessed,
And suck...
1297 reads
1 Comment
DRUGS POEM
Published
15th Jan 2010 6:57pm
15th Jan 2010 6:57pm
Seven Dead-fly Sins.
Seven standing in a room:
Seven that tease entropy.
Pallor vetoes in swaying lines,
Dancing apart from the infinite core.
Their morals cannot begin to match
The sagacious judge that resides within.
His transparent fists clench onto air-
Crafted gear, Crystalline and shining.
A supersized sword, a bleached obelisk:
Physicalizing the tender ego.
Gross inversion of the erected first-
A torrent of forces diverted west:
Caverns of shades are squeezed into
The putrid mould of a human silhouette.
Daggers sprout from his barren limbs,...
Seven that tease entropy.
Pallor vetoes in swaying lines,
Dancing apart from the infinite core.
Their morals cannot begin to match
The sagacious judge that resides within.
His transparent fists clench onto air-
Crafted gear, Crystalline and shining.
A supersized sword, a bleached obelisk:
Physicalizing the tender ego.
Gross inversion of the erected first-
A torrent of forces diverted west:
Caverns of shades are squeezed into
The putrid mould of a human silhouette.
Daggers sprout from his barren limbs,...
1820 reads
9 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
13th Jan 2010 5:51pm
13th Jan 2010 5:51pm
Gelatine.
Where did all my yearning go?
My treacle blue has oozed away
Seeped through my fingers like deviant putty, drenching-
Staining skin that we shed clandestine,
So that we may siesta once again
On the organ-feasting table.
Repetition nulls the wits,
Making blunt the piercing sword-
Dampening it into a bludgeoning mace,
Discharging their testosterone, spurting pretence:
Into my palpable, genderless hollow-
Now I am occupied with wanton abortion.
Am I not just a grubby Mollusc?
A glitzy shell to blind and muddle-
Leaving behind a...
My treacle blue has oozed away
Seeped through my fingers like deviant putty, drenching-
Staining skin that we shed clandestine,
So that we may siesta once again
On the organ-feasting table.
Repetition nulls the wits,
Making blunt the piercing sword-
Dampening it into a bludgeoning mace,
Discharging their testosterone, spurting pretence:
Into my palpable, genderless hollow-
Now I am occupied with wanton abortion.
Am I not just a grubby Mollusc?
A glitzy shell to blind and muddle-
Leaving behind a...
1051 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Jan 2010 10:53pm
12th Jan 2010 10:53pm
Voraphilia.
Come you monsters, spewing cables,
Concrete mouths that dribble labels-
Around your throat – a thick, black lead,
Government – yank, it’s time to feed.
Mass-media munching, false fact – swallow,
Perspire identity into your bathtub – wallow.
Peel your tepid skin of ripe identity.
Suck out your phlegm – reduce your density.
Soon your stomach acid will rightly adapt,
Soon your digestion shall become tight, compact.
No longer will fresh, crisp ideas be consumed-
And the monotone leadership-summit, resumed:
Shall cause the...
Concrete mouths that dribble labels-
Around your throat – a thick, black lead,
Government – yank, it’s time to feed.
Mass-media munching, false fact – swallow,
Perspire identity into your bathtub – wallow.
Peel your tepid skin of ripe identity.
Suck out your phlegm – reduce your density.
Soon your stomach acid will rightly adapt,
Soon your digestion shall become tight, compact.
No longer will fresh, crisp ideas be consumed-
And the monotone leadership-summit, resumed:
Shall cause the...
968 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Jan 2010 9:15pm
10th Jan 2010 9:15pm
Education.
Concentration’, said the teacher –
Bearing down her wooden lance-
Once a ruler, now the measure
Has become corrupt with chance.
‘Come headmistress’ mused the teacher,
Ripping off her faking mask-
Shall the twain pick ecstasy
To substitute her vodka flask?
‘Cut out that one’ laughed the teacher,
Seeing tumour in her kids-
Suffocate the education –
Eradiate the cancer-bids.
‘Children that -’ scorned the teacher,
‘Dare to ever fall behind’
Shall be locked in brick-house cells,
Emancipated for the grind.
Bearing down her wooden lance-
Once a ruler, now the measure
Has become corrupt with chance.
‘Come headmistress’ mused the teacher,
Ripping off her faking mask-
Shall the twain pick ecstasy
To substitute her vodka flask?
‘Cut out that one’ laughed the teacher,
Seeing tumour in her kids-
Suffocate the education –
Eradiate the cancer-bids.
‘Children that -’ scorned the teacher,
‘Dare to ever fall behind’
Shall be locked in brick-house cells,
Emancipated for the grind.
864 reads
3 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
10th Jan 2010 8:37pm
10th Jan 2010 8:37pm
Sister.
There she sat, in a puddle of soup-
Crème Tomato, or so it seemed:
It was not till I grew full knurling teeth
That I learned the girl was not meat.
I took her skin for peasant clothing
And wore it over my churlish pale.
A handsome dress, is all it seemed
With sloppy entrails fastened like bows.
And then I scalped her infant head,
And grew the hair like crystal weeds.
Sewing made my fingers bleed-
As I caught my thumbs, nicked my crown.
I squeezed my hoggish foot into
The insides of her dispatched legs,
And shivered as...
Crème Tomato, or so it seemed:
It was not till I grew full knurling teeth
That I learned the girl was not meat.
I took her skin for peasant clothing
And wore it over my churlish pale.
A handsome dress, is all it seemed
With sloppy entrails fastened like bows.
And then I scalped her infant head,
And grew the hair like crystal weeds.
Sewing made my fingers bleed-
As I caught my thumbs, nicked my crown.
I squeezed my hoggish foot into
The insides of her dispatched legs,
And shivered as...
965 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Jan 2010 2:24am
9th Jan 2010 2:24am
Thank You Note.
Little stranger, here is some gratitude,
For all the comfort you have singed into me-
through gilded knife, you imprinted on my skin
And the seeping heat breathes
'Thanks, kind sir.'
Brief encounter, here is some gratefulness,
For all the logic you have sliced into me-
With golden tongue, you parted my wetted lips
And the viscous blood murmurs
‘Thank you, mister.’
Fleshed spectre, to you I owe all,
No longer shall I be open for business-
Through lusty fortune I did dutifully aspire
When the swollen members whispers
‘Best...
For all the comfort you have singed into me-
through gilded knife, you imprinted on my skin
And the seeping heat breathes
'Thanks, kind sir.'
Brief encounter, here is some gratefulness,
For all the logic you have sliced into me-
With golden tongue, you parted my wetted lips
And the viscous blood murmurs
‘Thank you, mister.’
Fleshed spectre, to you I owe all,
No longer shall I be open for business-
Through lusty fortune I did dutifully aspire
When the swollen members whispers
‘Best...
951 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Donchonorgo (Louis Lee Warner)
