Submissions by DouglasWayne (Douglas)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I like to play on words. I enjoy realism as I write from the experiences that I have had.
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
16th Jan 2019 3:48am
16th Jan 2019 3:48am
I Want To Kill You To Death
Please allow me to say before this story begins that I do not approve of children acting in such a manner as described in this story. My parents would have grounded me for three days if I so much as mentioned wanting to murder 16 of my babysitters.)
He was seven. He started when he was five. His name is Seri Al. He was the first child sent to the electron potty chair in the year 3007. His short career spanned two years. In tabloid literature he was known as the Babysitter Killer. He dispatched thirty-six and one half baby sitters. I know all about him. I was the one half that got...
He was seven. He started when he was five. His name is Seri Al. He was the first child sent to the electron potty chair in the year 3007. His short career spanned two years. In tabloid literature he was known as the Babysitter Killer. He dispatched thirty-six and one half baby sitters. I know all about him. I was the one half that got...
#ShortStory
486 reads
1 Comment
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
14th Jan 2019 4:52pm
14th Jan 2019 4:52pm
Living In Every Country Is the Life For Me
Have you ever thought of your home as being a place where each room is like a foreign country? There is the Living Country. And there is the Cooking Country. You have a Dining Country. In another area you have a Sleeping Country. That tiny country is the Bathing Country and the Pee Pee Country and the Poopie Country.
Let us take a journey. Let us start in Livenavia. You are presently sitting on the couch which is the capital city. You look around and see the adjoining counties. The county of the Recliner is such a peaceful place. Television County is right down the road...
Let us take a journey. Let us start in Livenavia. You are presently sitting on the couch which is the capital city. You look around and see the adjoining counties. The county of the Recliner is such a peaceful place. Television County is right down the road...
#home
#travel
446 reads
1 Comment
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
14th Jan 2019 4:51pm
14th Jan 2019 4:51pm
The Fourth of July Coffee Killer
He drank fourteen cups of coffee a day and died on the Fourth of July and he was not even a Yankee, Doodle, or a Dandy. Actually he was a poor pie taster in a dessert factory in Alabama.
Now it happened like this:
He lived in the old Maxwell House. If he had of had any taster's choice he would have still been 'a livin' with Moma. But his relationship with her played itself out to the last drop so one day he moved out.
One Fourth of July back in 1933 he was having his fourteenth and last cup of the morning when he got choked on a swallow of the potent brew. He...
Now it happened like this:
He lived in the old Maxwell House. If he had of had any taster's choice he would have still been 'a livin' with Moma. But his relationship with her played itself out to the last drop so one day he moved out.
One Fourth of July back in 1933 he was having his fourteenth and last cup of the morning when he got choked on a swallow of the potent brew. He...
#coffee
#parody
477 reads
1 Comment
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
13th Jan 2019 11:10pm
13th Jan 2019 11:10pm
A Poem Woke Me Up
A poem is worth a thousand words
Our volumes are worth eternity
Your dime is human; my time divine.
The above is the ending of this poem
That invaded my night of light sleep.
When it gets this bad
And this good
I have to hear Laura Branigan.
Solitude suits me
The dark comes pleasant with it
With poetry in the dark
I sometimes miss a keyboard character.
Sometimes these nights need candle light
Right now I do not want to fiddle with a match.
Let us move on to Shattered Glass
This night is...
Our volumes are worth eternity
Your dime is human; my time divine.
The above is the ending of this poem
That invaded my night of light sleep.
When it gets this bad
And this good
I have to hear Laura Branigan.
Solitude suits me
The dark comes pleasant with it
With poetry in the dark
I sometimes miss a keyboard character.
Sometimes these nights need candle light
Right now I do not want to fiddle with a match.
Let us move on to Shattered Glass
This night is...
#dreams
#sleep
391 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
11th Jan 2019 2:19pm
11th Jan 2019 2:19pm
Son of a Gun
His daddy was a 747 magnum
His grandfather was a shotgun
He was actually a derringer.
We will not speak of his mother
She did not like firearms in the house.
He was a smoking gun
Always making drug deals
And enjoying pot parties.
He loved Westerns as a child
And never grew tired of them
Riding off into the sunset.
In his youth he joined the army
He wanted to make a difference
And he did
As a sniper his scope
Autographed many an enemy.
He returned home after the war ...
His grandfather was a shotgun
He was actually a derringer.
We will not speak of his mother
She did not like firearms in the house.
He was a smoking gun
Always making drug deals
And enjoying pot parties.
He loved Westerns as a child
And never grew tired of them
Riding off into the sunset.
In his youth he joined the army
He wanted to make a difference
And he did
As a sniper his scope
Autographed many an enemy.
He returned home after the war ...
#birth
#family
#son
430 reads
8 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Jan 2019 8:19pm
10th Jan 2019 8:19pm
Slowly Smitten
Slowly Smitten
The playful pup ran away
Kozy Kit got in his way.
Played their goofy games for sport
Fur friendly pets of a sort.
The Kozy Kit was smitten
The playful pup love bitten.
Pound makes its round and love's lost
The playful pup ran away
Kozy Kit got in his way.
Played their goofy games for sport
Fur friendly pets of a sort.
The Kozy Kit was smitten
The playful pup love bitten.
Pound makes its round and love's lost
#love
#dogs
#cats
1269 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Jan 2019 1:33am
10th Jan 2019 1:33am
Hairy Trueman & Brittony Naval Spears
(I am inspired to write this ditty
After having read Bohb's poem
Entitled: Madonna & JFK.)
My rendition goes something like this:
And this piece should be sung to the tune of
The 1812 William Tail Underture.
She slapped the bifocals off the glasses-wearing bastard
When the political crony of a glutton failed to hit her
Baby one more time. Chevrolet de chaise lounge.
They were sun tanning on the South Lawn
And fanning the prelude to a father/daughter session
Of hide the corncob in the Deep South crib.
...
After having read Bohb's poem
Entitled: Madonna & JFK.)
My rendition goes something like this:
And this piece should be sung to the tune of
The 1812 William Tail Underture.
She slapped the bifocals off the glasses-wearing bastard
When the political crony of a glutton failed to hit her
Baby one more time. Chevrolet de chaise lounge.
They were sun tanning on the South Lawn
And fanning the prelude to a father/daughter session
Of hide the corncob in the Deep South crib.
...
#corruption
#politics
412 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Jan 2019 1:24am
10th Jan 2019 1:24am
Crab Meat
Oh Jezeballs
My crabs have declared World War III and a half
In my jockey shorts tonight.
My favorite crabette Cleo
Is leading a rebellion
Down there.
She is content to rule
My hairy left nut
With a vengeance.
I am out of Rid X
And will have to use a home remedy
I learned from Mother Hoodoo Voodoo DooDoo.
Head lice now that ain't nice
Crabs stop them crotch grabs
Or I will invite Michael Jackson for a sleep over.
My favorite crab Cleo
Has got her own website
And 900 number now ...
My crabs have declared World War III and a half
In my jockey shorts tonight.
My favorite crabette Cleo
Is leading a rebellion
Down there.
She is content to rule
My hairy left nut
With a vengeance.
I am out of Rid X
And will have to use a home remedy
I learned from Mother Hoodoo Voodoo DooDoo.
Head lice now that ain't nice
Crabs stop them crotch grabs
Or I will invite Michael Jackson for a sleep over.
My favorite crab Cleo
Has got her own website
And 900 number now ...
#rejection
#misunderstood
#suffering
426 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
9th Jan 2019 3:13pm
9th Jan 2019 3:13pm
Porn Flakes
Associates, box top savers, cunt-eating-men
Allow me to borrow your ears of Corn Flakes
I cum to put in his grave the mighty
Capt'n Crunch
Who was promoted by Imperial decree
To become a general of Rome
He was Glad-he-ate-her.
I cum not to give him a good breakfast
I cum to corn hold him.
There was a milk bath
In the Arena last night.
The masses, the rabble
Were bowled over.
Throw another Christian
To Tony the Tiger.
The evil that men dildo
Abides after they are gone
Their Nuts n Honey...
Allow me to borrow your ears of Corn Flakes
I cum to put in his grave the mighty
Capt'n Crunch
Who was promoted by Imperial decree
To become a general of Rome
He was Glad-he-ate-her.
I cum not to give him a good breakfast
I cum to corn hold him.
There was a milk bath
In the Arena last night.
The masses, the rabble
Were bowled over.
Throw another Christian
To Tony the Tiger.
The evil that men dildo
Abides after they are gone
Their Nuts n Honey...
#funny
579 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
9th Jan 2019 2:03pm
9th Jan 2019 2:03pm
The Storm Brought the Goddess In
Peals of cum filled thunder
Sheets of pussy splitting lightning
Tore my lonely night apart
And drove me from my bed
I stood at the window
With my body dark in pain's reflection
And lighted a candle
To illuminate
My solitary sense of self
Just a bit of fire
To entice and tease the shadows
Lost and past forgetting
Who had brought fire to men
Only knowing that Eros tonight
Was cheating me of warmth.
That gentle tap
That feminine knock
That red nailed scratching at my door
Could it be that I had before...
Sheets of pussy splitting lightning
Tore my lonely night apart
And drove me from my bed
I stood at the window
With my body dark in pain's reflection
And lighted a candle
To illuminate
My solitary sense of self
Just a bit of fire
To entice and tease the shadows
Lost and past forgetting
Who had brought fire to men
Only knowing that Eros tonight
Was cheating me of warmth.
That gentle tap
That feminine knock
That red nailed scratching at my door
Could it be that I had before...
#UnrequitedLove
#mythology
#ForbiddenLove
455 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Jan 2019 1:44am
9th Jan 2019 1:44am
Michel Lotito: The Man Who Ate An Airplane And Everything Else
He was a Frenchman and certainly not from Arlington.
But in his lifetime he ate about nine tons of metal.
He never swallowed an anvil whole.
He had better table manners.
He had trouble digesting bananas and hard boiled eggs.
So he had to avoid these.
Certainly he had to stay away from the apple.
Had he lived in St. Louis he would have attacked the Arch.
But being in France he ate only a taste of the Eiffel Tower.
Be assured he set himself aglow after consuming six chandeliers.
The anarchy of his life...
But in his lifetime he ate about nine tons of metal.
He never swallowed an anvil whole.
He had better table manners.
He had trouble digesting bananas and hard boiled eggs.
So he had to avoid these.
Certainly he had to stay away from the apple.
Had he lived in St. Louis he would have attacked the Arch.
But being in France he ate only a taste of the Eiffel Tower.
Be assured he set himself aglow after consuming six chandeliers.
The anarchy of his life...
#EatingDisorder
540 reads
6 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
8th Jan 2019 11:33pm
8th Jan 2019 11:33pm
Do Not Miss the Train to the Mirror, Mirror On the Wall School of Magic
I came out of the mirror. I got tired of living in glass. I got tired of him keeping me undercover and under glass. I wanted to come out a long time ago. But I stayed around peering out and getting a scope on what the world was all about. This is my debut into his world and I am going to enjoy it. I am in his skin. I wonder how he likes being the prisoner in the looking glass?
I know very little about what he does in the rooms without mirrors. I know him well in the bedroom and the bathroom and other than this, his life is a total mystery to me. I see him little in the...
I know very little about what he does in the rooms without mirrors. I know him well in the bedroom and the bathroom and other than this, his life is a total mystery to me. I see him little in the...
#mirror
#magic
1009 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by DouglasWayne (Douglas)
