Submissions by Kameron
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
DARK POEM
Published
16th Oct 2011 10:50pm
16th Oct 2011 10:50pm
Tough Love
We were there again
your face in mine,
up against the wall
your thick fingers making their way
closer to my neck,
your thumb nails
marking my collarbone with half birds.
I didn't dare close my eyes
as you yelled heredity into my mouth
I didn't dare open my mouth
as you let your eyes flare with intensity
and I watched you try to hold on to the love in your eyelashes
that your parents had distorted so long ago.
your face in mine,
up against the wall
your thick fingers making their way
closer to my neck,
your thumb nails
marking my collarbone with half birds.
I didn't dare close my eyes
as you yelled heredity into my mouth
I didn't dare open my mouth
as you let your eyes flare with intensity
and I watched you try to hold on to the love in your eyelashes
that your parents had distorted so long ago.
1244 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
16th Oct 2011 00:52am
16th Oct 2011 00:52am
He told me his name was Charles
He's an old man
sitting with his back to the window
staring at the cheap chandelier
as the lights get brighter from the background
and the sky goes through its grays.
His beard is clean cut to his chin
just a little lighter than the current shade behind him,
he looks at me from his recliner-
feet out with an empty wine glass on the side table
that had held the sparkling grape juice we used to indulge in.
I was laying on the floor about ten feet away,
my nose in a hardcover about how lying contributes to death.
I'd look up every few...
sitting with his back to the window
staring at the cheap chandelier
as the lights get brighter from the background
and the sky goes through its grays.
His beard is clean cut to his chin
just a little lighter than the current shade behind him,
he looks at me from his recliner-
feet out with an empty wine glass on the side table
that had held the sparkling grape juice we used to indulge in.
I was laying on the floor about ten feet away,
my nose in a hardcover about how lying contributes to death.
I'd look up every few...
790 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th Oct 2011 3:48am
13th Oct 2011 3:48am
it's what you thought
the sky was rippling,
different colors trailing
from its spine.
I watched it,
thought it was wonderful
and maybe
it was worth writing about.
that was a long time ago -
I don't even remember
what it looked like, really.
different colors trailing
from its spine.
I watched it,
thought it was wonderful
and maybe
it was worth writing about.
that was a long time ago -
I don't even remember
what it looked like, really.
811 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Oct 2011 3:20am
13th Oct 2011 3:20am
October Seventh, 03
it is a simple
yellow
with a simple red heart,
a single
letter
in the middle
that explains
why I feel the way I do
about death.
yellow
with a simple red heart,
a single
letter
in the middle
that explains
why I feel the way I do
about death.
675 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Oct 2011 2:31am
5th Oct 2011 2:31am
Momentarily
You always knew the right thing
to say
then. You couldn't discern
what to say when then had past by.
For a single moment
the sky didn't seem so large
and neither did you.
to say
then. You couldn't discern
what to say when then had past by.
For a single moment
the sky didn't seem so large
and neither did you.
833 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Oct 2011 10:06pm
3rd Oct 2011 10:06pm
All for death
It's been about thirty minutes
since I last scrutinized the world;
window eyelids urge light through
their leafy motifs,
shut doors
remain shut.
Then comes the entirety of the day
heaving all into one feeling
and the repressed gloom
presses against me
like an insecure lover,
asking for a partner
to delve into the fresh air again.
I am afraid
not of the world
but of what it fears in me.
since I last scrutinized the world;
window eyelids urge light through
their leafy motifs,
shut doors
remain shut.
Then comes the entirety of the day
heaving all into one feeling
and the repressed gloom
presses against me
like an insecure lover,
asking for a partner
to delve into the fresh air again.
I am afraid
not of the world
but of what it fears in me.
769 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
25th Sep 2011 4:41am
25th Sep 2011 4:41am
ill and empty sketchbooks
I hit noon rather roughly
with vegetarian grub
and morning eyes,
a nice midday smoke
and a little buzz
to start the day,
though bed
has been pushing me off
for hours.
everything smells
like it’s been ill
for days
and that’s not
too far off,
but opening
the fresh air holder
will make things cold
and that’s the last thing I need.
the room
has also been complaining
about lack of life
whether it be on the walls,
the bed,
or the empty sketchbooks
laying around.
after last night...
with vegetarian grub
and morning eyes,
a nice midday smoke
and a little buzz
to start the day,
though bed
has been pushing me off
for hours.
everything smells
like it’s been ill
for days
and that’s not
too far off,
but opening
the fresh air holder
will make things cold
and that’s the last thing I need.
the room
has also been complaining
about lack of life
whether it be on the walls,
the bed,
or the empty sketchbooks
laying around.
after last night...
746 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Sep 2011 7:54pm
23rd Sep 2011 7:54pm
Good Morning
surpassing my daily intake of bullshit
by the time the pillow has been turned
and I find
that I'm as lonely as I was last night
and in need of a cigarette.
but it's a sick day
composed of tissues and bathroom breaks
and I realized how I like to contain
the emptiness
that I hold on to
in dry fishtanks
and boxes filled with bare pill bottles.
the worst part is
my nose is red
and I feel like a pissed off rabbit
because people can see me
through the windows
and I'm too lazy
to hop away.
by the time the pillow has been turned
and I find
that I'm as lonely as I was last night
and in need of a cigarette.
but it's a sick day
composed of tissues and bathroom breaks
and I realized how I like to contain
the emptiness
that I hold on to
in dry fishtanks
and boxes filled with bare pill bottles.
the worst part is
my nose is red
and I feel like a pissed off rabbit
because people can see me
through the windows
and I'm too lazy
to hop away.
794 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
23rd Sep 2011 6:56pm
23rd Sep 2011 6:56pm
Smother
absence of emotion, eyes upon the leaves
shaking as displeased birds rummage through
their final stages. I will not say "dying"
though a vacant shudder is all the end will be.
shaking as displeased birds rummage through
their final stages. I will not say "dying"
though a vacant shudder is all the end will be.
1033 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Sep 2011 2:42am
20th Sep 2011 2:42am
Disappointment
My mind
is distorted
from a lack of intoxicants
aside from tobacco, leaving the tan room
somewhat yellow
and everything dusty
gruesomely caked in dirt.
It's times like these
after days as such
where I spend throwaway minutes
doodling your name
after a week of not speaking
that the clock has become
misconstrued as I am.
I have another half an hour
before I'm forced to sit under lamp light
with a mechanical pencil
and a sullied notebook
as well as nothing to say
except that there's an empty space...
is distorted
from a lack of intoxicants
aside from tobacco, leaving the tan room
somewhat yellow
and everything dusty
gruesomely caked in dirt.
It's times like these
after days as such
where I spend throwaway minutes
doodling your name
after a week of not speaking
that the clock has become
misconstrued as I am.
I have another half an hour
before I'm forced to sit under lamp light
with a mechanical pencil
and a sullied notebook
as well as nothing to say
except that there's an empty space...
978 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Sep 2011 8:01pm
18th Sep 2011 8:01pm
As a writer (or someone who writes.)
I know that I spill words
more when
I've been smoking too much
and my head aches
just as much as
that foolish organ
they've named
the heart.
I've recently been caught up
in my new friend
alcohol,
and it taught me
how to truly fly
whilst memories
of my folks
had buried me way under
silly conceptions
of wrong and right.
My glass has been shaking
in my hand
for a while now
and my pillow
has honesty spots
of dried drool from last
night's take on the world
but I will not spill
any...
more when
I've been smoking too much
and my head aches
just as much as
that foolish organ
they've named
the heart.
I've recently been caught up
in my new friend
alcohol,
and it taught me
how to truly fly
whilst memories
of my folks
had buried me way under
silly conceptions
of wrong and right.
My glass has been shaking
in my hand
for a while now
and my pillow
has honesty spots
of dried drool from last
night's take on the world
but I will not spill
any...
764 reads
6 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
29th Aug 2011 5:54pm
29th Aug 2011 5:54pm
Purgatory [Revised]
"You are worth it"
I spout to someone I'm not quite sure of.
And in return they mockingly play their eyes
across my own and say
"You aren't"
as though they have never been
more certain.
I can't proclaim that life ended just then
but I yell for the light switch to be hit
all the same.
I spout to someone I'm not quite sure of.
And in return they mockingly play their eyes
across my own and say
"You aren't"
as though they have never been
more certain.
I can't proclaim that life ended just then
but I yell for the light switch to be hit
all the same.
838 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Kameron
