Submissions by JohnVincent (JVD)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I usually just write whatever's on my mind. Could be anything. Brain-to-hand-to-page.
DARK POEM
Published
19th Jan 2013 4:19pm
19th Jan 2013 4:19pm
The Man in the Corner of My Room
I used to see him at night
When everyone in the house was asleep
I'd be awake, shivering and shuddering
Waiting for the man who'd always make me weep
Now I know how it sounds
Unbelievable, and all
But I know what I saw
What I heard, his nightly call
He'd emerge from the darkness
In the corner of my room
Ask me how I was doing that day
And then inform me of my doom
He said I was a bad boy
And that I deserved to be punished
Said that everyone I loved
Someday, would vanish
The more he'd speak
The more I'd...
When everyone in the house was asleep
I'd be awake, shivering and shuddering
Waiting for the man who'd always make me weep
Now I know how it sounds
Unbelievable, and all
But I know what I saw
What I heard, his nightly call
He'd emerge from the darkness
In the corner of my room
Ask me how I was doing that day
And then inform me of my doom
He said I was a bad boy
And that I deserved to be punished
Said that everyone I loved
Someday, would vanish
The more he'd speak
The more I'd...
571 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
19th Jan 2013 7:42am
19th Jan 2013 7:42am
I Can't Make You Love Me
I don't know what I have to do
All I know is that I love you
Don't know how to make you see
I'm just happy to be
When I'm around you
I clam up, you know it's true
You turn me to stone
I'd even settle for a loan
Just a little love
Just a little love
You say you love me
But you haven't fallen yet
Well I don't remember when I did
But if I do, I'll be sure to get
A hold of you, to show you who I am
To prove to you what you've done to me
You've reduced me to mindless mush
I'm not sure you can ever see
Or hear, or fear, or...
All I know is that I love you
Don't know how to make you see
I'm just happy to be
When I'm around you
I clam up, you know it's true
You turn me to stone
I'd even settle for a loan
Just a little love
Just a little love
You say you love me
But you haven't fallen yet
Well I don't remember when I did
But if I do, I'll be sure to get
A hold of you, to show you who I am
To prove to you what you've done to me
You've reduced me to mindless mush
I'm not sure you can ever see
Or hear, or fear, or...
1655 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Jan 2013 7:21am
19th Jan 2013 7:21am
Drunk Again (But I've Never Seen This Place)
I wish I could bring all the lights
Down for you to see in real life
And I wish I could take you
To the grounds of the truth
But the truth is that I can't say
Everything I want but I won't play
That game because deep down I'm scared
To scare you away
I won't be around forever
I know that's true
I just want to spend
Every single dollar and moment on and with you
But that's wrong, I wasn't supposed to catch feelings
So close, so soon, I'm just wheeling
Through time and time and space
I've never been here, I've never seen this...
Down for you to see in real life
And I wish I could take you
To the grounds of the truth
But the truth is that I can't say
Everything I want but I won't play
That game because deep down I'm scared
To scare you away
I won't be around forever
I know that's true
I just want to spend
Every single dollar and moment on and with you
But that's wrong, I wasn't supposed to catch feelings
So close, so soon, I'm just wheeling
Through time and time and space
I've never been here, I've never seen this...
570 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
17th Jan 2013 9:21pm
17th Jan 2013 9:21pm
My Friend Dreamt About My Funeral
When I was in high school, I had a friend who would always claim that he had premonition dreams. He said that on some random nights, he'd wake up in a cold sweat and would have to wait a few minutes to catch his breath before he could fall back asleep. Now, I'm not sure how true his claims were as he never gave me any real examples of dreaming up the future, but what he said to me one night, while we were just sitting around and talking, really shook me. He told me that the dream he had the night before took place in a funeral parlor. Few people were there to pay their respects to the dead...
571 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Jan 2013 4:10pm
17th Jan 2013 4:10pm
Love & Death
Shala, la, la, la live for today. Don't worry about tomorrow, hey-ey..."
I'm sitting on the edge of my bed listening to songs that make me miss her. I hear her voice in the words of strangers. I see her face before me, though only thin air rests between myself and my vision of her. Her long black hair, falls over her shoulders like Niagara. Her eyes shine on par with the light of the Sun cranked to maximum. My heart sinks at the same time that it floats. Such an odd feeling. It's like dying and being brought back to life by a mysterious, elegant, beautiful angel who you know can't...
I'm sitting on the edge of my bed listening to songs that make me miss her. I hear her voice in the words of strangers. I see her face before me, though only thin air rests between myself and my vision of her. Her long black hair, falls over her shoulders like Niagara. Her eyes shine on par with the light of the Sun cranked to maximum. My heart sinks at the same time that it floats. Such an odd feeling. It's like dying and being brought back to life by a mysterious, elegant, beautiful angel who you know can't...
602 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
16th Jan 2013 10:40pm
16th Jan 2013 10:40pm
Goodnight, Sun. Hello, Moon. (Forever)
Sitting next to her on the hood of my car, the Sun having said goodnight hours ago. Now, we're drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon, our silhouettes bathed in the pale moonlight. She looks to me with those ocean tide eyes. Nuzzles her head on my neck. I feel my blood pumping harder, almost making my jugular vibrate at the mere notion of her touch. She asks for another beer, so I crack it open and hand it to her. She takes it from me with those hands, those hands I saw in my dreams last night. So tiny, so welcoming, so womanly, so lovely. I look down at her and smile as she opens her mouth to speak. I'm...
707 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Jan 2013 4:18pm
16th Jan 2013 4:18pm
My Great-Grandfather (or: Just Another Asshole Who's Blood Lives on Inside of Me)
I don't know much about him
The only thing I know for sure though
Is that he was an asshole
And that's putting it lightly
I've only heard about him on a couple of occasions
From my father
Who also, fittingly
Once called him a "motherfucker"
Which is a pretty
Literal description of the man
See, he liked to drink
Prohibition wasn't over with
For more than 20 years
But the man was in bars
Almost every night
Drinking his brains, guts and wits out
Somewhere along the line
He got involved with a woman...
The only thing I know for sure though
Is that he was an asshole
And that's putting it lightly
I've only heard about him on a couple of occasions
From my father
Who also, fittingly
Once called him a "motherfucker"
Which is a pretty
Literal description of the man
See, he liked to drink
Prohibition wasn't over with
For more than 20 years
But the man was in bars
Almost every night
Drinking his brains, guts and wits out
Somewhere along the line
He got involved with a woman...
570 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
16th Jan 2013 1:09am
16th Jan 2013 1:09am
Holes in Heads
A man limps down the street. His right leg drags as his left one tries to keep balanced. Blood drips down from a bullet-sized hole from his forehead to his chin in a thin, crimson line. His eyes bulge and his nostrils flare.
A woman walks past him, headed in the other direction. She is staring down at the cell phone in her hand, furiously tapping away as the headphones she's wearing blare an incoherent pop song. The man halts just as they pass and grunts loudly, hot blood spewing from his throat in the process. The blood paints the back of the passing woman's milky white sweater as...
A woman walks past him, headed in the other direction. She is staring down at the cell phone in her hand, furiously tapping away as the headphones she's wearing blare an incoherent pop song. The man halts just as they pass and grunts loudly, hot blood spewing from his throat in the process. The blood paints the back of the passing woman's milky white sweater as...
640 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
16th Jan 2013 00:38am
16th Jan 2013 00:38am
I Sit in Bars and Listen to Dead People Talk
I'm sitting in a bar. A place where they all collect. They come together with smiling eyes and open hearts and sit, drink and just shoot the shit. They are all noteworthy people, not a boring or reserved soul among the bunch. And they share stories of their highs, lows and purgatories.
One of them, his name's Jimmy, tells the story he always tells when he's teetering between coherency and slop-talk. He tells of how he died. He hopped in his car one day, and boy did he love his cars. And that particular car, the one his heart stopped beating in, was his favorite. He sped down the...
One of them, his name's Jimmy, tells the story he always tells when he's teetering between coherency and slop-talk. He tells of how he died. He hopped in his car one day, and boy did he love his cars. And that particular car, the one his heart stopped beating in, was his favorite. He sped down the...
539 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
15th Jan 2013 4:35pm
15th Jan 2013 4:35pm
Taste Your Own Blood
You have to taste
The crunchy gravel
On the grounds of a house
Shrouded in misery
Feel your teeth breaking
As your face
Slams again and again
And again
Swallow the blood
And revel
In the internal bleeding
Seeping and soaking
From your organs
Into your thoughts
You have to die
An agonizing death
The end of a heart string
Stitched forever to your heart
But now lays limp
Apart from you
On the ground
Smiling up
It's teeth stained red
As it's screaming at you, beaming
To just go fuck yourself...
The crunchy gravel
On the grounds of a house
Shrouded in misery
Feel your teeth breaking
As your face
Slams again and again
And again
Swallow the blood
And revel
In the internal bleeding
Seeping and soaking
From your organs
Into your thoughts
You have to die
An agonizing death
The end of a heart string
Stitched forever to your heart
But now lays limp
Apart from you
On the ground
Smiling up
It's teeth stained red
As it's screaming at you, beaming
To just go fuck yourself...
650 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Jan 2013 4:33pm
15th Jan 2013 4:33pm
Everyone Dies Their Own Death, Just as Soon as They Live Their Own Life
Everybody dies alone
It's a fact of living
Dying
Just another intrinsic truth
That life bestows
Upon it's (mostly) reluctant
Livers
And for that reason
I believe everyone
Should spend as much time
As humanly possible
With themselves
By themselves
With no other souls
To lean on
You have to become
Comfortable
And if not truly so
Then comfortably
Numb
Should probably be settled for
Because
In the end
Though void
Though empty
It's still you
Evolving
Changing
Content
With...
It's a fact of living
Dying
Just another intrinsic truth
That life bestows
Upon it's (mostly) reluctant
Livers
And for that reason
I believe everyone
Should spend as much time
As humanly possible
With themselves
By themselves
With no other souls
To lean on
You have to become
Comfortable
And if not truly so
Then comfortably
Numb
Should probably be settled for
Because
In the end
Though void
Though empty
It's still you
Evolving
Changing
Content
With...
537 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
15th Jan 2013 2:34am
15th Jan 2013 2:34am
Murder House
There is a house that sits high on a hill, downtown
Shrubbery and vines are the open arms that welcome anyone who passes
And when they do, they're always sent away with cold bones and blood
A fitting departure package
No one knows exactly what went on in that house
Tales of violence, rape, lies and unholy rituals plague the stories
But there is no record, no way of knowing for sure
A crimson question-mark
Forever, it seems, the house will sit ominously on that hill
Eyes and ears, always curious, will direct themselves to it
Curiousity kills,...
Shrubbery and vines are the open arms that welcome anyone who passes
And when they do, they're always sent away with cold bones and blood
A fitting departure package
No one knows exactly what went on in that house
Tales of violence, rape, lies and unholy rituals plague the stories
But there is no record, no way of knowing for sure
A crimson question-mark
Forever, it seems, the house will sit ominously on that hill
Eyes and ears, always curious, will direct themselves to it
Curiousity kills,...
600 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by JohnVincent (JVD)
