Submissions by JC-Luff (JC Luff)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Usually found on some tirade about this that, or the distortion of the other thing, J.C believes that there is spiritual growth to be made through the derangement of the sentences.
STORY POEM
Published
11th May 2014 1:28am
11th May 2014 1:28am
And Quiet, Exactly How It Was
And quiet, exactly how it was
And I had forgotten exactly how this would take effect upon me.
And I had forgotten the star and her sisters,
and the blessed moon above from us...
in one night, we had everything.
I thought about the girl in blue
and how she didn’t want a dime from me,
or consequences of the day.
How everything made a sense ,
in its own little mannerism.
By stinging up your legs, you can be my Easter,
veering clouds of recognition,
from the passionate and angry gods of space.
They did not like how...
And I had forgotten exactly how this would take effect upon me.
And I had forgotten the star and her sisters,
and the blessed moon above from us...
in one night, we had everything.
I thought about the girl in blue
and how she didn’t want a dime from me,
or consequences of the day.
How everything made a sense ,
in its own little mannerism.
By stinging up your legs, you can be my Easter,
veering clouds of recognition,
from the passionate and angry gods of space.
They did not like how...
739 reads
4 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
11th May 2014 1:26am
11th May 2014 1:26am
Seventeen Death
Seventeen Death ,
you are a shadow of my being
so truthful , cold and too opaque
just like the bathroom floor.
Seventeen death,
you are also cloaked in mystery.
Just like the duke and earl of spades
choking in my mirror drops,
asking for a second helping
seventeen death
seventeen death
seventeen death
Lurking calmly in my soup bowls,
curling like the parking greys,
Seventeen death,
you'd called out my names.
Like a church boy in a choir of staples,
and the butter breath without the guns,
...
you are a shadow of my being
so truthful , cold and too opaque
just like the bathroom floor.
Seventeen death,
you are also cloaked in mystery.
Just like the duke and earl of spades
choking in my mirror drops,
asking for a second helping
seventeen death
seventeen death
seventeen death
Lurking calmly in my soup bowls,
curling like the parking greys,
Seventeen death,
you'd called out my names.
Like a church boy in a choir of staples,
and the butter breath without the guns,
...
762 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
4th May 2014 1:59am
4th May 2014 1:59am
Salvation
Roadhouse Urinal Cake surplus.
rusty needle / dog sore kisses.
gratification of the soul through the abuse of english...
what if the end of consciousness is the gradual washing down of thought until all that remains is a simple vibration?
What if the next life is reduced to being a furniture arrangement?
rusty needle / dog sore kisses.
gratification of the soul through the abuse of english...
what if the end of consciousness is the gradual washing down of thought until all that remains is a simple vibration?
What if the next life is reduced to being a furniture arrangement?
735 reads
2 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
2nd May 2014 4:09pm
2nd May 2014 4:09pm
Tree Line Edge Width
Vein seeds in the glass wall sprouting red poetry
strobe light prophesy and holy seizure border length
the engineer approaches and offers me wine.
In this noir placebo for the day,
one more verse has been constructed and the occupation continues.
My birth now justified, I realize that the sun will implode eventually ...
no time for the perfect Christmas, while the saints are all dogs.
Fair ground nerve slop on the broadcast menu,
age will find me and one day, I will transcend this bored condition
Candy color thought disruption in...
strobe light prophesy and holy seizure border length
the engineer approaches and offers me wine.
In this noir placebo for the day,
one more verse has been constructed and the occupation continues.
My birth now justified, I realize that the sun will implode eventually ...
no time for the perfect Christmas, while the saints are all dogs.
Fair ground nerve slop on the broadcast menu,
age will find me and one day, I will transcend this bored condition
Candy color thought disruption in...
657 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Apr 2014 1:40pm
12th Apr 2014 1:40pm
Lapse in Sleep
Box Office Christ, on the golden stairway telephone,
when will the summer materialize for my paranoia to find her?
I am a broken point of reference in a quick silver hedge maze,
and my nerves feel like a set of gelatinous calculations.
The argument to infinity must be defined somehow,
the response to a focal configuration
in distorted frames of psychotic remedy.
... And the lapse in sleep continues
The same trip repeats itself,
and I am consumed by words and bass.
The day is another obligation to be disposed of sometimes.
I...
when will the summer materialize for my paranoia to find her?
I am a broken point of reference in a quick silver hedge maze,
and my nerves feel like a set of gelatinous calculations.
The argument to infinity must be defined somehow,
the response to a focal configuration
in distorted frames of psychotic remedy.
... And the lapse in sleep continues
The same trip repeats itself,
and I am consumed by words and bass.
The day is another obligation to be disposed of sometimes.
I...
673 reads
2 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
11th Apr 2014 00:30am
11th Apr 2014 00:30am
quote: April 10th 2014
.. and my mind was a floral tapestry of inspirational words from the gas station bathroom wall alongside the road into tomorrow.
865 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Mar 2014 2:22am
28th Mar 2014 2:22am
dormant extract
cold morning desk,
recital of the excuses for the conversations
from the holy accident of last night's consumption.
The two characters had never really met before,
until it was years ago.
Wrist watch reminder tunes
of suburban wisps of radio pain.
Electromagnetic false God recital
disruptions in the satellite accusation
of the propagation of meta-physical truth.
To the edges of sky... a televised pharmaceutical excrement commerce
... another wet dream Sunday on the market floor
recital of the excuses for the conversations
from the holy accident of last night's consumption.
The two characters had never really met before,
until it was years ago.
Wrist watch reminder tunes
of suburban wisps of radio pain.
Electromagnetic false God recital
disruptions in the satellite accusation
of the propagation of meta-physical truth.
To the edges of sky... a televised pharmaceutical excrement commerce
... another wet dream Sunday on the market floor
664 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Mar 2014 9:40pm
22nd Mar 2014 9:40pm
company
find me around that corner by the west at dawn,
and I'll be drinking by myself,
with new words for eternity.
I'll remember your views and appetites ...
Around those older ideas,
in that domino bookshelf's waiting for me ...
How I love my wasted angel
until the ends of words.
Find me with no time beside your watch
find me somewhere in the verse I occupy
... in this eternal film for God.
"she could induce seizures with her tentacles."
and I'll be drinking by myself,
with new words for eternity.
I'll remember your views and appetites ...
Around those older ideas,
in that domino bookshelf's waiting for me ...
How I love my wasted angel
until the ends of words.
Find me with no time beside your watch
find me somewhere in the verse I occupy
... in this eternal film for God.
"she could induce seizures with her tentacles."
640 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by JC-Luff (JC Luff)
