Submissions by JamieCummins
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
A perceiver of things
DRUGS POEM
Published
5th Dec 2012 00:30am
5th Dec 2012 00:30am
Floating
O, sweet inebriate, where are your fumes?
Those sweet bouncing particles
bounce on my brain,
to feed a precious life!
You awake that inner life
through your toxins,
those taboos mean nothing to you,
your biggest weapon a coughing fit.
Mist! A scented mist, muddling the mind and yet enhancement!
It rises like feathers.
Tickle my senses!
Those sweet bouncing particles
bounce on my brain,
to feed a precious life!
You awake that inner life
through your toxins,
those taboos mean nothing to you,
your biggest weapon a coughing fit.
Mist! A scented mist, muddling the mind and yet enhancement!
It rises like feathers.
Tickle my senses!
601 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Dec 2012 00:03am
5th Dec 2012 00:03am
One
I reflect
as a moonlit lake
deep and eternal
whose face
dark and opaque
reflects those poor souls
who wander too close
and lose themselves -
drowned -
in its ancient eye
whose abundant
life kills.
Yet as a desert
I exist
maintaining lake's form
so dry yet so
drowned
and all as One.
Am I as alien to you as you to me?
Do you distance
yourself from this
illusionary reality
- this -
which the Greeks
evaded through art?
Dionysus, Apollo,
what would you say
to that...
as a moonlit lake
deep and eternal
whose face
dark and opaque
reflects those poor souls
who wander too close
and lose themselves -
drowned -
in its ancient eye
whose abundant
life kills.
Yet as a desert
I exist
maintaining lake's form
so dry yet so
drowned
and all as One.
Am I as alien to you as you to me?
Do you distance
yourself from this
illusionary reality
- this -
which the Greeks
evaded through art?
Dionysus, Apollo,
what would you say
to that...
654 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
30th Nov 2012 00:34am
30th Nov 2012 00:34am
Carbon copies
A single Mind is small, compressed
into a hollow shell
whose State is said: "I am a me"
and acts upon itself.
But suddenly, it duplicates
its numbers start rise
A mind of masses now exists
thoughts grow on the same lines.
The Family Tree - of single branch
that Mind did once begin
now plants its seeds and reaps the growth
of those whose blood is thin.
Now Words compress into the Ear
as thousands of one voice.
But Sentence
in Gregorian song
begins to
become Noise.
into a hollow shell
whose State is said: "I am a me"
and acts upon itself.
But suddenly, it duplicates
its numbers start rise
A mind of masses now exists
thoughts grow on the same lines.
The Family Tree - of single branch
that Mind did once begin
now plants its seeds and reaps the growth
of those whose blood is thin.
Now Words compress into the Ear
as thousands of one voice.
But Sentence
in Gregorian song
begins to
become Noise.
531 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Nov 2012 00:05am
28th Nov 2012 00:05am
Double vision
An Action in the world is done -
it draws to it a scene.
Significance can be derived
as Purpose, or a Means.
But echoed in a silver stream
of virtuality
is everything that has occurred
and all that has been seen.
The Mind reflects on reflections
Silver's worth is more than Gold.
Perspective draws its fatal sword
and slices Thought's abode.
These images must come in twos
for Sense to maintain Sight.
So those with eyes
of single view
will never see
the Light.
it draws to it a scene.
Significance can be derived
as Purpose, or a Means.
But echoed in a silver stream
of virtuality
is everything that has occurred
and all that has been seen.
The Mind reflects on reflections
Silver's worth is more than Gold.
Perspective draws its fatal sword
and slices Thought's abode.
These images must come in twos
for Sense to maintain Sight.
So those with eyes
of single view
will never see
the Light.
663 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
24th Nov 2012 12:59pm
24th Nov 2012 12:59pm
Death of normality
To see your mind deteriorate
is such a horrid sight.
The person - Shell - that you once were
Is now a fading light.
A blurring image fades away
and draws ambiguity.
It was a picture of your thoughts
which once was as a sea.
Whose blue expressions harboured life
brought purpose to your Race
But now your saturated world
is fixed upon my face.
To hear your words become so weak
removes you of your crown.
The sea is gone
and thought-full Fish
are screaming
as they drown.
is such a horrid sight.
The person - Shell - that you once were
Is now a fading light.
A blurring image fades away
and draws ambiguity.
It was a picture of your thoughts
which once was as a sea.
Whose blue expressions harboured life
brought purpose to your Race
But now your saturated world
is fixed upon my face.
To hear your words become so weak
removes you of your crown.
The sea is gone
and thought-full Fish
are screaming
as they drown.
618 reads
7 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Nov 2012 00:13am
15th Nov 2012 00:13am
Surface tension
Surface tension - pulsating -
across the barren mind.
A screw begins to turn itself
to loosen and unwind.
A creaking noise rattles Sense
berates it to its end.
and suddenly there is no sound
just silence - long and dead.
But silence screams at worried Ears
who look on tired souls.
And often outreached hands of Hope
extend towards their goal.
But salient is solitude,
in worlds of extraneous growth.
Tension loosens
screws in thought
but Screwdrivers
can't cope.
across the barren mind.
A screw begins to turn itself
to loosen and unwind.
A creaking noise rattles Sense
berates it to its end.
and suddenly there is no sound
just silence - long and dead.
But silence screams at worried Ears
who look on tired souls.
And often outreached hands of Hope
extend towards their goal.
But salient is solitude,
in worlds of extraneous growth.
Tension loosens
screws in thought
but Screwdrivers
can't cope.
669 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Nov 2012 7:05pm
8th Nov 2012 7:05pm
Box
Harrowed, worn thing. Skin box -
peeling
looser every day.
Open it. There is nothing.
Close it, and explosions.
Reactions of happy to sad to discontent to everything.
Nothing can stop it.
Delve deeper, only skin exists.
Things disappear in it.
Any ideas put into it are lost, like vague freckles brought on by the sunshine of brief enlightenment gradually fading away to pale.
But it is neat and tidy and inconspicuous.
It exists as a statue, lamenting me.
It conceals all and reveals nothing.
There is nothing.
peeling
looser every day.
Open it. There is nothing.
Close it, and explosions.
Reactions of happy to sad to discontent to everything.
Nothing can stop it.
Delve deeper, only skin exists.
Things disappear in it.
Any ideas put into it are lost, like vague freckles brought on by the sunshine of brief enlightenment gradually fading away to pale.
But it is neat and tidy and inconspicuous.
It exists as a statue, lamenting me.
It conceals all and reveals nothing.
There is nothing.
800 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th Nov 2012 8:32pm
7th Nov 2012 8:32pm
The blank product of the infinite canvas
Mind, you are a blank page in time's journal.
Most would write in pen, a permanence, resonating
leaving pressure imprints on every page of the long blue-black galleries.
A memoir written in ink, recorded in time.
Yes, handwritten passages are oft subject to change of form, but always there is a continuity, a signature of being pulsating through the pages like a heart beating.
Cardiac response is an unknown resident in this journal.
Traces of blood and life are always there,
but never in abundance, never in the obvious fashion exhibited by its...
Most would write in pen, a permanence, resonating
leaving pressure imprints on every page of the long blue-black galleries.
A memoir written in ink, recorded in time.
Yes, handwritten passages are oft subject to change of form, but always there is a continuity, a signature of being pulsating through the pages like a heart beating.
Cardiac response is an unknown resident in this journal.
Traces of blood and life are always there,
but never in abundance, never in the obvious fashion exhibited by its...
568 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
7th Nov 2012 00:48am
7th Nov 2012 00:48am
Outsider
The Outsider is standing still,
observing carefully,
these little People are alive
as far as he can see.
Flowers grow inside their brains
emerging from their mouths
the Outsider blows gentle breeze
and petals fly about.
He often yearns to join them -
to see things as they see -
but too big is the observer
he is but a tree.
The size of mind's reflection
On narcissism's mirror
Leaves the Outsider
stranded
and lights
growing dimmer.
observing carefully,
these little People are alive
as far as he can see.
Flowers grow inside their brains
emerging from their mouths
the Outsider blows gentle breeze
and petals fly about.
He often yearns to join them -
to see things as they see -
but too big is the observer
he is but a tree.
The size of mind's reflection
On narcissism's mirror
Leaves the Outsider
stranded
and lights
growing dimmer.
641 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Nov 2012 1:49am
3rd Nov 2012 1:49am
A superficial shadow
A superficial shadow
Passing through my eyes
Was wrapped in narcissism
To nobody's surprise.
Surprise was not an issue
In apathy affairs
And self-indulgence stiffened
As only it could care.
And on this empty vision
The see began to saw
And vague realisation
Slowly began to dawn.
The information flickered, flashed and was no more.
The narcissism
Draining
Only to fill
Once more.
Passing through my eyes
Was wrapped in narcissism
To nobody's surprise.
Surprise was not an issue
In apathy affairs
And self-indulgence stiffened
As only it could care.
And on this empty vision
The see began to saw
And vague realisation
Slowly began to dawn.
The information flickered, flashed and was no more.
The narcissism
Draining
Only to fill
Once more.
605 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2012 5:57pm
2nd Nov 2012 5:57pm
Touch numbing thought
Time; its brittle bones lie motionless before my eyes.
Never a pure room, always interposition.
Flies everywhere.
Where is it that I can be - absorb -
yet not feel the cold
Sting of people's being
breaking timely bones in front of me?
Cracks, snaps,
Buzzing
from aloof maladroits stampeding towards me
Like crazed pachyderms.
Always growing, frequenting time.
Like office blocks now.
Order interrupting thought.
Here is routine, embrace it or live in a cave, isolated by solitude.
If I could inhabit that...
Never a pure room, always interposition.
Flies everywhere.
Where is it that I can be - absorb -
yet not feel the cold
Sting of people's being
breaking timely bones in front of me?
Cracks, snaps,
Buzzing
from aloof maladroits stampeding towards me
Like crazed pachyderms.
Always growing, frequenting time.
Like office blocks now.
Order interrupting thought.
Here is routine, embrace it or live in a cave, isolated by solitude.
If I could inhabit that...
553 reads
0 Comments
SONG LYRICS
Published
29th Oct 2012 11:38am
29th Oct 2012 11:38am
Glass Camouflage
1199 reads
12 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by JamieCummins
