Submissions by KOPPE
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I'm I have been writing since my teens and I try hard to do so.
SELF POEM
Published
1st Mar 2014 10:59pm
1st Mar 2014 10:59pm
Heart Sick
I just sit and think only of myself,
because of my sick heart.
Through my acknowledgment I've started the healing process.
It is preposterous to think of this ill-heartedness.
Sick hearts have no room to hide,
this sickness fills up on the inside.
Yet on the outside there is no sign of my hearts disease.
Though at the core of it's a cold and bitter heart.
This doesn't leave the body have a chance to consider a healthy way of recovering.
I'm lost on this path I my heart has blazed.
Spewing out nonsense
from this vileness stored up...
because of my sick heart.
Through my acknowledgment I've started the healing process.
It is preposterous to think of this ill-heartedness.
Sick hearts have no room to hide,
this sickness fills up on the inside.
Yet on the outside there is no sign of my hearts disease.
Though at the core of it's a cold and bitter heart.
This doesn't leave the body have a chance to consider a healthy way of recovering.
I'm lost on this path I my heart has blazed.
Spewing out nonsense
from this vileness stored up...
549 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
27th Jan 2014 9:45pm
27th Jan 2014 9:45pm
Must be Diction Talking
August 14, 2010
Must Be Diction Talking
Why so sensitive,
wigging with the testiness?
Are you a detective kid?
Come get a lecture, you and your tiff.
Fit’s and split’s all things amiss.
Now I’m reliving this battle of wits.
This scramble of fling’s,
putting a big flex in my stature.
It’s a matter left to the bashful artist.
Who might try and capture the rift?
Any allied subsistence shall prove omniscient.
...
Must Be Diction Talking
Why so sensitive,
wigging with the testiness?
Are you a detective kid?
Come get a lecture, you and your tiff.
Fit’s and split’s all things amiss.
Now I’m reliving this battle of wits.
This scramble of fling’s,
putting a big flex in my stature.
It’s a matter left to the bashful artist.
Who might try and capture the rift?
Any allied subsistence shall prove omniscient.
...
498 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th Jan 2014 3:21pm
26th Jan 2014 3:21pm
The Otherside
The Other Sides
The road to redemption should go past at last.
The road to perdition could be full of indecision,
and leave terror as harmful as the past.
Follow on paths led by souls of fallen out brothers.
Please stay in control, not under it, that’s for the slow.
Following on my path, I go,
passing by planters of perished paper,
preserving pesky poetry.
Presenting a way,
it’s hard to say where I might be.
I have to outlast each side,
because of....
II Corinthians 4:8
"We are troubled on every side, yet not...
The road to redemption should go past at last.
The road to perdition could be full of indecision,
and leave terror as harmful as the past.
Follow on paths led by souls of fallen out brothers.
Please stay in control, not under it, that’s for the slow.
Following on my path, I go,
passing by planters of perished paper,
preserving pesky poetry.
Presenting a way,
it’s hard to say where I might be.
I have to outlast each side,
because of....
II Corinthians 4:8
"We are troubled on every side, yet not...
468 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
20th Jan 2014 4:22am
20th Jan 2014 4:22am
Gossiping
Gossiping
Dainty and so shapely,
This feeling in your stomach.
The taste of another’s words,
That spoke and muttered.
Utterances of things that could put you asunder,
Splitting through you,
as a sword through butter.
The gossip that leaves you full and scared from
every
word
sworn.
Dainty and so shapely,
This feeling in your stomach.
The taste of another’s words,
That spoke and muttered.
Utterances of things that could put you asunder,
Splitting through you,
as a sword through butter.
The gossip that leaves you full and scared from
every
word
sworn.
534 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
18th Feb 2012 4:28am
18th Feb 2012 4:28am
FOUND
Found
I’ve lost the way, that I’ve found.
Missing undiscovered joy that’s within us all.
The finding’s of a life that’s meant for all.
I want to find this ultimate way,
to be victorious in what I find and have to say.
My minds in search of this ultimate way,
in order to present my poetry.
I’m seeking out any confounded way to restore to a medium my word of honor.
The word that has been displayed upon me
to reach out to all that need to be free.
Indeed the Lord has impeached me
to convey what I’ve heard.
The finding’s of his master...
I’ve lost the way, that I’ve found.
Missing undiscovered joy that’s within us all.
The finding’s of a life that’s meant for all.
I want to find this ultimate way,
to be victorious in what I find and have to say.
My minds in search of this ultimate way,
in order to present my poetry.
I’m seeking out any confounded way to restore to a medium my word of honor.
The word that has been displayed upon me
to reach out to all that need to be free.
Indeed the Lord has impeached me
to convey what I’ve heard.
The finding’s of his master...
601 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
10th Dec 2011 9:16pm
10th Dec 2011 9:16pm
Try to Write My Mind
Try to Write My Mind
As I turn on my minds light, to write.
I sense that its dark and I don't know how to start.
So, I state the art, that my minds all apart.
Not in tune with the light of day.
It only comes around at night, after I pray.
Fights in the mental, surge spite like the devil.
I go on to stage a revival, on top of this paper.
What I find is what my mind has encaged.
There is a voice there, I can actually hear you.
My conscience calls, though I fear it has been seared.
Because my...
As I turn on my minds light, to write.
I sense that its dark and I don't know how to start.
So, I state the art, that my minds all apart.
Not in tune with the light of day.
It only comes around at night, after I pray.
Fights in the mental, surge spite like the devil.
I go on to stage a revival, on top of this paper.
What I find is what my mind has encaged.
There is a voice there, I can actually hear you.
My conscience calls, though I fear it has been seared.
Because my...
662 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Dec 2011 3:14am
8th Dec 2011 3:14am
"I <3 Reading" and "Writing" 2 poems
These are two poems read at an open mic night. I think it was in July of 2011.
Please check out some of my websites.
www.writerighton.com
http://www.litsay.com/author/Koppe/
Thanks and I hope this works.
If you know a better way to post vid's on here please let me know.
Please check out some of my websites.
www.writerighton.com
http://www.litsay.com/author/Koppe/
Thanks and I hope this works.
If you know a better way to post vid's on here please let me know.
794 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th Dec 2011 6:21am
6th Dec 2011 6:21am
Dirt
Dirt
To see the illness in man
is to see the complexity,
that derives from the soil
of the Universe.
Our world is surrounded by dirt.
Every inch, even in the depth’s
of the sea, there is dirt.
To see this sickness
is to see the derivative
of everyday living.
We are the clay
the dirt per say.
All that the creator
ordained us to be.
Being of no other likeness
of another molded being.
We are not the same.
I’m the dirt of my ancestors,
I’m the concentrated masterpiece
of my Fathers sperm....
To see the illness in man
is to see the complexity,
that derives from the soil
of the Universe.
Our world is surrounded by dirt.
Every inch, even in the depth’s
of the sea, there is dirt.
To see this sickness
is to see the derivative
of everyday living.
We are the clay
the dirt per say.
All that the creator
ordained us to be.
Being of no other likeness
of another molded being.
We are not the same.
I’m the dirt of my ancestors,
I’m the concentrated masterpiece
of my Fathers sperm....
796 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by KOPPE
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