Submissions by K-masterOfReason
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Kwanmaster Of Reason
STORY POEM
Published
15th Jul 2012 5:22am
15th Jul 2012 5:22am
Dimension Hopper p.1
Slpash of chemicals create a spark in the brain
euphoric light makes it all ignite tingling the nerves sending signals through the center of this train
the engine in my chest began to sputter at the sight, I shudder as this portal opens up before me
a swirling vortex inside draws me in
body sucked up like a vaccuum as my mind transcends
the flesh disinegrates
converts into energy
swallowed by the force unbound
My body materializes in a different place
another zone
head spins of thoughts of missing...
euphoric light makes it all ignite tingling the nerves sending signals through the center of this train
the engine in my chest began to sputter at the sight, I shudder as this portal opens up before me
a swirling vortex inside draws me in
body sucked up like a vaccuum as my mind transcends
the flesh disinegrates
converts into energy
swallowed by the force unbound
My body materializes in a different place
another zone
head spins of thoughts of missing...
596 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Jun 2012 4:23am
3rd Jun 2012 4:23am
The leaves are burning
Each pedal on the flower of life has a rythym
opening anothers eyes to either delight or despise
unbound untamed yet some way defined latching on to a prism
Can't you tell? The leaves are burning
As the flame on your candle burns out wax drips away from the moments left
a stain on the carpet scolding hot enough to scorch flesh remains for a time until it fades from sight
Can't you tell? The leaves are burning
Gunshots fired
bullets hit their mark
drained from the strain that sever's the brain
now the victom has expired
...
opening anothers eyes to either delight or despise
unbound untamed yet some way defined latching on to a prism
Can't you tell? The leaves are burning
As the flame on your candle burns out wax drips away from the moments left
a stain on the carpet scolding hot enough to scorch flesh remains for a time until it fades from sight
Can't you tell? The leaves are burning
Gunshots fired
bullets hit their mark
drained from the strain that sever's the brain
now the victom has expired
...
596 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th May 2012 6:41am
26th May 2012 6:41am
Hidden pain
It's hidden in laughter
masked by rage, holds me in doubt
I never shout, as you can see it never takes center stage
it grows from time to time and holds me by my feet
I cannot walk without a reminder of what lurks inside
that makes me cry until I drown in a puddle of deceit
it fuels my existence further, while at the same time creates a reason for me to get snagged
roaming in the shadows of my mind I hope not to find
but common sense shines bright, despite my pleading from fear of my plight it shows itself for a minute, and then exits for a return...
masked by rage, holds me in doubt
I never shout, as you can see it never takes center stage
it grows from time to time and holds me by my feet
I cannot walk without a reminder of what lurks inside
that makes me cry until I drown in a puddle of deceit
it fuels my existence further, while at the same time creates a reason for me to get snagged
roaming in the shadows of my mind I hope not to find
but common sense shines bright, despite my pleading from fear of my plight it shows itself for a minute, and then exits for a return...
1315 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
17th May 2012 3:06am
17th May 2012 3:06am
What am I?
If I was a tree I'd stand real tall, firmly planted with no care at all.
If I was a bird I'd fly real far, go higher than the addicts stealing your car. I'd be so fast,so free, clearer than a reflection they refuse to see.
If I was the sun I'd spread my light, surround your mind with force so bright, shining through your town
with knowledge on earth yet to be found, still searching for the truth, that's all I live for, my inspiration, my will, my drive.But I still haven't learned what am I.
If I was a bird I'd fly real far, go higher than the addicts stealing your car. I'd be so fast,so free, clearer than a reflection they refuse to see.
If I was the sun I'd spread my light, surround your mind with force so bright, shining through your town
with knowledge on earth yet to be found, still searching for the truth, that's all I live for, my inspiration, my will, my drive.But I still haven't learned what am I.
643 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
16th May 2012 8:25pm
16th May 2012 8:25pm
The Journey
The path set before you is a road of lies
An illusion of purpose given for one to like, yet you still might despise
Everything they claim you are to achieve, but in reality your life is the car and you own the keys
Nothing is ever promised or set in stone no life is concrete, but at the end of the day each of us have one we own
To feel, to live, and work to be free
Missing the underlying irony
What it means to be free has nothing to with what one ultimately wants to feel and see
Freedom: unchained, unbound, something we have yet to achieve with beliefs tugging at...
An illusion of purpose given for one to like, yet you still might despise
Everything they claim you are to achieve, but in reality your life is the car and you own the keys
Nothing is ever promised or set in stone no life is concrete, but at the end of the day each of us have one we own
To feel, to live, and work to be free
Missing the underlying irony
What it means to be free has nothing to with what one ultimately wants to feel and see
Freedom: unchained, unbound, something we have yet to achieve with beliefs tugging at...
698 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
14th May 2012 9:32pm
14th May 2012 9:32pm
Fallen Art
Fallen art is worst than than falling arches
the brains creativity zone stops dripping with imagination it becomes fractured
numb
frozen in limbo
depriving
conniving
no whisper
no hum
motivational circuits burned to a crisp, dried and used up
focus non existent with thoughts barely floating through a mind
shattered by trauma
filled with regret, illusions take over, the creativity has fallen asleep in the attic of the brain and refuses to be woken up
Is it dead?
on life support?
can it be revived?...
the brains creativity zone stops dripping with imagination it becomes fractured
numb
frozen in limbo
depriving
conniving
no whisper
no hum
motivational circuits burned to a crisp, dried and used up
focus non existent with thoughts barely floating through a mind
shattered by trauma
filled with regret, illusions take over, the creativity has fallen asleep in the attic of the brain and refuses to be woken up
Is it dead?
on life support?
can it be revived?...
835 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th May 2012 5:43pm
14th May 2012 5:43pm
Me V.S. Me internal struggle of the mind
Submerged in a battle locked in a game of wits against my reflection my polar opposite who remains weak, uncertain, thinks irrational, failing to hold a bases like mine that stands on the line and maintains itself to be factual
I'm in it deep it's become a war parts I refuse to listen to start to speak louder, start to speak more
"You're ungrateful towards who you have in your life angry about things that are not of your concern
living through misery as if it were an every day sport longing to teach what no one wants to learn."
Thoughts roll in deep and hit...
I'm in it deep it's become a war parts I refuse to listen to start to speak louder, start to speak more
"You're ungrateful towards who you have in your life angry about things that are not of your concern
living through misery as if it were an every day sport longing to teach what no one wants to learn."
Thoughts roll in deep and hit...
882 reads
4 Comments
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