Submissions by Geff_Bad_Bear (...)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Nov 2015 8:20pm
20th Nov 2015 8:20pm
Far Beyond
She watches from far away
with eyes of deepest warmth
though I cannot see her face
I feel the gentle emotion
she may barely notice my heart
that beats so softly for her
but she will feel my soul
a whisper on the passing breeze.
She lives behind a flimsy veil
it hides nothing that matters
her thoughts are conveyed
through those mahogany eyes
is that her heartbeat I hear
or blood rushing past my ears
I long for her to reveal
her innermost hopes and desires.
with eyes of deepest warmth
though I cannot see her face
I feel the gentle emotion
she may barely notice my heart
that beats so softly for her
but she will feel my soul
a whisper on the passing breeze.
She lives behind a flimsy veil
it hides nothing that matters
her thoughts are conveyed
through those mahogany eyes
is that her heartbeat I hear
or blood rushing past my ears
I long for her to reveal
her innermost hopes and desires.
463 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Sep 2015 7:45pm
30th Sep 2015 7:45pm
My Garden Shed
What do I keep in my shed?
A big desk with many a drawer
Too big to have got in the door
A strange shiny brass thing from an old bed.
What have I got in my shed?
On the wall a sharp metal hook
On the desk a gardening book
Cobwebby corners where insects hang dead.
What do I store in my shed?
Paintbrushes in an old jam jar
A seat taken from a vintage car
And many sharp implements above my head.
What do I hide in my shed?
A dusty bottle of weedkiller
An unopened pack of wall filler
My favourite old...
A big desk with many a drawer
Too big to have got in the door
A strange shiny brass thing from an old bed.
What have I got in my shed?
On the wall a sharp metal hook
On the desk a gardening book
Cobwebby corners where insects hang dead.
What do I store in my shed?
Paintbrushes in an old jam jar
A seat taken from a vintage car
And many sharp implements above my head.
What do I hide in my shed?
A dusty bottle of weedkiller
An unopened pack of wall filler
My favourite old...
514 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Sep 2015 7:54pm
29th Sep 2015 7:54pm
The Monster In The Basement
There’s a monster in the basement
I can hear his slithering sound
That’s the noise his scales make
As he slithers noisily around.
That monster in the basement
He likes to hiss and roar
Two very frightening sounds
That’s what his two mouths are for.
The monster in the basement
I know he’s always there
The double headed child eater
That fearsome Dragon-Bear.
There’s a monster in the basement
All day he stamps and prowls
As he comes upstairs at night time
I hear his snuffles and growls.
That monster in the...
I can hear his slithering sound
That’s the noise his scales make
As he slithers noisily around.
That monster in the basement
He likes to hiss and roar
Two very frightening sounds
That’s what his two mouths are for.
The monster in the basement
I know he’s always there
The double headed child eater
That fearsome Dragon-Bear.
There’s a monster in the basement
All day he stamps and prowls
As he comes upstairs at night time
I hear his snuffles and growls.
That monster in the...
467 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
26th Sep 2015 8:05pm
26th Sep 2015 8:05pm
Pathway To Perdition
The trees wait whispering their malice
each step is heavier than the last
but I cannot stop
cannot turn back
the only way is forward
and the trees wait with deadly intent.
A malign forest will be my final home
for a painful screaming eternity
there is no return
no hope for me
salvation left long ago
on a train from a station gone astray.
The dark woods of cold perdition lurk
on the edges of sanity and reason
the home of Abaddon
of the lord of the abyss
therein I shall forever remain
lost life and...
each step is heavier than the last
but I cannot stop
cannot turn back
the only way is forward
and the trees wait with deadly intent.
A malign forest will be my final home
for a painful screaming eternity
there is no return
no hope for me
salvation left long ago
on a train from a station gone astray.
The dark woods of cold perdition lurk
on the edges of sanity and reason
the home of Abaddon
of the lord of the abyss
therein I shall forever remain
lost life and...
484 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Sep 2015 00:29am
25th Sep 2015 00:29am
The Salmon Run
Like fish swimming upstream
All the little workers strive
But for all they manage to do
They merely exist to survive.
One might rarely make progress
But by the time he or she is done
Their working life has worn them out
There is no time for fun.
The day you retire my friends
The state wants you to die
You see you’ll cost them money
As your pension is too high.
So struggle up and struggle on
Endure the tiring ride
I am of course just like you
Swimming against the tide.
But if you just decide to stop
To go...
All the little workers strive
But for all they manage to do
They merely exist to survive.
One might rarely make progress
But by the time he or she is done
Their working life has worn them out
There is no time for fun.
The day you retire my friends
The state wants you to die
You see you’ll cost them money
As your pension is too high.
So struggle up and struggle on
Endure the tiring ride
I am of course just like you
Swimming against the tide.
But if you just decide to stop
To go...
478 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
25th Sep 2015 00:26am
25th Sep 2015 00:26am
The Ivy House
The ivy crawls up the crumbling wall
The twisted oak stands outside so tall
As twilight descends hear the owl call
Chimney smoke hovers, a greyish pall.
In a top floor window is a lonely light
It’s from a candle so it’s not so bright
By its orange glow a man starts to write
Now the moon rises so cold, so white.
The quill scratches across the yellowing page
Words of wisdom from this scholarly sage
His words spread like some inky phage*
The edge of the paper becomes their cage.
Outside the house remains deathly still
So quiet...
The twisted oak stands outside so tall
As twilight descends hear the owl call
Chimney smoke hovers, a greyish pall.
In a top floor window is a lonely light
It’s from a candle so it’s not so bright
By its orange glow a man starts to write
Now the moon rises so cold, so white.
The quill scratches across the yellowing page
Words of wisdom from this scholarly sage
His words spread like some inky phage*
The edge of the paper becomes their cage.
Outside the house remains deathly still
So quiet...
562 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
17th Sep 2015 6:53pm
17th Sep 2015 6:53pm
Footsteps In Your Memory
The dead only walk
in the dark of your mind
their footsteps are real enough.
They are always there just waiting
for the opportunity to be heard.
Deep in the corners
of your memory and mine
the dead lurk awaiting their time.
A time that may be brief but poignant
a time when you will allow them room.
The dead are there
not hiding but hidden
the mists of time swirl around
creating distance, healing and hope
hope that the dead will guide your steps.
The dead only walk
when held by the living
faded memories that...
in the dark of your mind
their footsteps are real enough.
They are always there just waiting
for the opportunity to be heard.
Deep in the corners
of your memory and mine
the dead lurk awaiting their time.
A time that may be brief but poignant
a time when you will allow them room.
The dead are there
not hiding but hidden
the mists of time swirl around
creating distance, healing and hope
hope that the dead will guide your steps.
The dead only walk
when held by the living
faded memories that...
643 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Geff_Bad_Bear (...)
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