Submissions by LennyBlue
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Diagnosed
Soup & Hershey Kisses
When you see me stop writing,
you’ll know I’m dead.
Like an empty can of soup,
I ‘ve left my head.
I’m racing my clock , feels like I’m not going win,
Gandhi says I’ll be back again.
For now I wanna leave these words,
To prove I breathed and flew with birds.
Some of my poems float in the gutter,
cigarette butts, spit and mudder.
But even if I only get one like,
Hershey Kiss will make it right.
My underground friends read my write,
So it does not matter that you’ve taken flight.
One door closes and another one...
you’ll know I’m dead.
Like an empty can of soup,
I ‘ve left my head.
I’m racing my clock , feels like I’m not going win,
Gandhi says I’ll be back again.
For now I wanna leave these words,
To prove I breathed and flew with birds.
Some of my poems float in the gutter,
cigarette butts, spit and mudder.
But even if I only get one like,
Hershey Kiss will make it right.
My underground friends read my write,
So it does not matter that you’ve taken flight.
One door closes and another one...
#strength
#WritingPoetry
235 reads
2 Comments
I'm f**ked
#sex
337 reads
8 Comments
Death Is Easy
I googled my mind
but then it cRASheD,
deleted words ,
unabashed.
I sp0ke some words
but it came out wrong ,
It sounded like a broken song.
An alphabet where "Z" comes first ,
with some numbers throw in with every verse.
Doctors ask ;
"what's my name,
who's the president"
............Is this a game?
Images in the mirror fill me with fear,
Why do I walk around with no underwear?
A well written...
but then it cRASheD,
deleted words ,
unabashed.
I sp0ke some words
but it came out wrong ,
It sounded like a broken song.
An alphabet where "Z" comes first ,
with some numbers throw in with every verse.
Doctors ask ;
"what's my name,
who's the president"
............Is this a game?
Images in the mirror fill me with fear,
Why do I walk around with no underwear?
A well written...
#sadness
#love
#mother
#illness
#MentalHealth
392 reads
1 Comment
Last Stop
The hot old train entered the dark long tunnel,
Two hands on your wrist kiss the threes again.
Rumbling screeching metal shakes tired wrinkled skin
clutching yesterdays paper with a briefcase and a dried pen.
Flickering lights the fire flies of the rails, make faces half appear
as if you care.
Sand bags like eyes, pull the lids close,
unshaven again , dirty clothes.
The train stalls, the stop is not on the map,
the lights don’t come back the train never goes.
Two hands on your wrist kiss the threes again.
Rumbling screeching metal shakes tired wrinkled skin
clutching yesterdays paper with a briefcase and a dried pen.
Flickering lights the fire flies of the rails, make faces half appear
as if you care.
Sand bags like eyes, pull the lids close,
unshaven again , dirty clothes.
The train stalls, the stop is not on the map,
the lights don’t come back the train never goes.
#death
382 reads
1 Comment
OH HENRY!
A rusted bike chained to a grey fence,
The story behind it and its sad events
James wanted his usual treats,
Bubble gum ,chocolate and other sweets.
School work was done he had the time,
gathered a nickel,
a quarter,
a dime.
The ride was short he'd be there soon,
Pass the bar called The Last Saloon.
He paid the old man as he did before ,
said "thanks Mister"
as he headed to the door.
The dented van, tinted windows and all,
James turned around as his name was called.
OH HENRY bar crushed on the cold...
The story behind it and its sad events
James wanted his usual treats,
Bubble gum ,chocolate and other sweets.
School work was done he had the time,
gathered a nickel,
a quarter,
a dime.
The ride was short he'd be there soon,
Pass the bar called The Last Saloon.
He paid the old man as he did before ,
said "thanks Mister"
as he headed to the door.
The dented van, tinted windows and all,
James turned around as his name was called.
OH HENRY bar crushed on the cold...
#evil
352 reads
9 Comments
I Forgive You With Death
I tasted blood last night in
in the dark dripping red light alleyway of my mind.
We meet online, I told you I’m gay,
you believed your gift was easy prey.
I lived with your touch since I was eight,
now this is my time this is your fate.
A soldier preparing for war,
everything was thought out before,
a hidden knife,
the note to my wife.
Walking slowly to me, a familiar stench,
your dark black gaze greeting mine.
Embracing you like a tiger with his kill,...
in the dark dripping red light alleyway of my mind.
We meet online, I told you I’m gay,
you believed your gift was easy prey.
I lived with your touch since I was eight,
now this is my time this is your fate.
A soldier preparing for war,
everything was thought out before,
a hidden knife,
the note to my wife.
Walking slowly to me, a familiar stench,
your dark black gaze greeting mine.
Embracing you like a tiger with his kill,...
#childhood
#murder
#death
#prison
#revenge
343 reads
9 Comments
Curious White Stuff
Dirty little boy
On a hot summer night ,
"Would you put your hands down my pants, It will be alright."
You could have said NO,
But you gave him a yes,
As he watched through the torn screen a stripper undress.
You grabbed his member like a batter at the plate,
What's this thing he asked "to masturbate?"
He smiled and said go faster,
while little curious hands tugged away,
"Could a eight year old boy really be gay?"
I hated you from that time on,
Dreamed of Murdering you and having my fun.
That Dirty Little Boy...
On a hot summer night ,
"Would you put your hands down my pants, It will be alright."
You could have said NO,
But you gave him a yes,
As he watched through the torn screen a stripper undress.
You grabbed his member like a batter at the plate,
What's this thing he asked "to masturbate?"
He smiled and said go faster,
while little curious hands tugged away,
"Could a eight year old boy really be gay?"
I hated you from that time on,
Dreamed of Murdering you and having my fun.
That Dirty Little Boy...
#anger
#hate
#childhood
#murder
#abuse
351 reads
12 Comments
Better Dead than Read
I wanna murder my words,
Those stupid structures of rhyming
Trying to keep up with the
timing.
Ha, their you did it again jerk.
Shaken not stirred , the words
pour out of a mind hungry to be eaten,
Ted Bundys appetite snacking on a young boy at night
Desperate thoughts escaping a prison
Captured by another victim
Innocent eyes corrupted by what you think is important.
Nobody cares about your last release, a lonely man with tired aching hands,
A child chasing butterfly's or
Mom dying on a winter...
Those stupid structures of rhyming
Trying to keep up with the
timing.
Ha, their you did it again jerk.
Shaken not stirred , the words
pour out of a mind hungry to be eaten,
Ted Bundys appetite snacking on a young boy at night
Desperate thoughts escaping a prison
Captured by another victim
Innocent eyes corrupted by what you think is important.
Nobody cares about your last release, a lonely man with tired aching hands,
A child chasing butterfly's or
Mom dying on a winter...
#honesty
#WritingPoetry
286 reads
8 Comments
Winter Death
The quiet dark night was blanketed with the
soft white touches of winter.
Moms cold mattress stained with death
void of warmth of her flesh,
now discarded to the curb where dogs pee.
A day and a night ago you existed for me,
I held your hand as you sipped tea.
A single dim lamp barely illuminated the tearful clown poster you loved.
We emptied the small clean apartment as if you never lived there, everything is gone.
Silence, nothingness, bare, lifeless,
all you left is memories and tears.
soft white touches of winter.
Moms cold mattress stained with death
void of warmth of her flesh,
now discarded to the curb where dogs pee.
A day and a night ago you existed for me,
I held your hand as you sipped tea.
A single dim lamp barely illuminated the tearful clown poster you loved.
We emptied the small clean apartment as if you never lived there, everything is gone.
Silence, nothingness, bare, lifeless,
all you left is memories and tears.
#sadness
#mother
#death #emptiness
#death #emptiness
297 reads
7 Comments
The Storm
#love
#romantic
#sex
#storm
#lover
634 reads
6 Comments
Peanut Butter & Jelly
Bring me back to the days of
Peanut Butter and Jelly,
A metallic box packed with love ,
a snack or two to remind me of your sweetness.
Every day a different treat, never disappointing.
Bring me back to the days of
a worm on a hook, dad rowing in the silence of the dawn,
a world all our own.
Bring me back to the days of
a family ThanksGiving , complete with all the pieces,
Dads not missing.
They treated the day like a beautiful dance,
Each partner having a part ,working in unison.
Bring me back to the days
so I...
Peanut Butter and Jelly,
A metallic box packed with love ,
a snack or two to remind me of your sweetness.
Every day a different treat, never disappointing.
Bring me back to the days of
a worm on a hook, dad rowing in the silence of the dawn,
a world all our own.
Bring me back to the days of
a family ThanksGiving , complete with all the pieces,
Dads not missing.
They treated the day like a beautiful dance,
Each partner having a part ,working in unison.
Bring me back to the days
so I...
#childhood
#family
#IMissYou
342 reads
4 Comments
f**king Coward
If i were dead would you be out of my head?
Oh sweet relief from your disease of my brain.
Every cell punches me , dripping blood from my eyes,
Staining any beauty of how you use to be
My head aches like an atomic bomb
Your face pounding away with no escape.
The tracks of pain running up my veins
Only teasing never pleasing, the marks of things to come.
You wear your scars like a soldiers badge,
But you never won a battle in your life.
Fucking coward.
If I were dead would you be out of my head?
Oh sweet relief from your disease of my brain.
Every cell punches me , dripping blood from my eyes,
Staining any beauty of how you use to be
My head aches like an atomic bomb
Your face pounding away with no escape.
The tracks of pain running up my veins
Only teasing never pleasing, the marks of things to come.
You wear your scars like a soldiers badge,
But you never won a battle in your life.
Fucking coward.
If I were dead would you be out of my head?
#death
#suicide
#suffering
409 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by LennyBlue