Submissions by Lunga
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Sanity Insanity
Insanity Sanity
Who is to decide which has more vanity.
Shameless facades.
Condescending eyes.
Am I losing mind or losing your respect.
Because I stoped chasing normality.
Sanity Insanity
Who is to decide which is which.
Psychiatrists lack the figures of speech.
Actually, fuck therapy.
He spends all day around lunatics.
People who suffer from emotional politics.
He cannot be in a state to tell me whether I'm sane or insane.
I don't mean to cause you pain.
But the company you keep.
Influences the thoughts you weep.
So forgive...
Who is to decide which has more vanity.
Shameless facades.
Condescending eyes.
Am I losing mind or losing your respect.
Because I stoped chasing normality.
Sanity Insanity
Who is to decide which is which.
Psychiatrists lack the figures of speech.
Actually, fuck therapy.
He spends all day around lunatics.
People who suffer from emotional politics.
He cannot be in a state to tell me whether I'm sane or insane.
I don't mean to cause you pain.
But the company you keep.
Influences the thoughts you weep.
So forgive...
802 reads
6 Comments
Its not worth your thoughts (self-centered)
I reckon I spoke.
I spoke and I broke.
The bond of air and word.
I spoke and I showed.
Words that stood and posed.
Like man whose hearing is being overdosed.
It might not be worth your thoughts.
But I hope you heard,
What I'm yet to say.
I reckon my words have no destination.
Ever since our separation.
Simply because they needed liberation.
I ask you give my words shelter.
Residence within your mind.
They might not be worth your thoughts.
But please listen attentively.
Sometimes I speak in reverse.
Or should I say...
I spoke and I broke.
The bond of air and word.
I spoke and I showed.
Words that stood and posed.
Like man whose hearing is being overdosed.
It might not be worth your thoughts.
But I hope you heard,
What I'm yet to say.
I reckon my words have no destination.
Ever since our separation.
Simply because they needed liberation.
I ask you give my words shelter.
Residence within your mind.
They might not be worth your thoughts.
But please listen attentively.
Sometimes I speak in reverse.
Or should I say...
919 reads
4 Comments
Something About Love
Love
I slept with pain drenched in it.
Caressed me silently I thought it's it.
I loved sadness, when I bleed.
Bleed the love, I thought I had.
Love
I've felt it once or maybe twice.
It's nothing much, but it was nice.
Simply strange butterflies.
The kind that flatter by.
Love
Is the beauty in the chase.
Love
Is the beauty in saving Grace.
Once you catch up to love.
It's more about commitment and drive.
That's how I lost love.
I found it before I knew this.
Love
I hate that you carve.
Thoughts of you...
I slept with pain drenched in it.
Caressed me silently I thought it's it.
I loved sadness, when I bleed.
Bleed the love, I thought I had.
Love
I've felt it once or maybe twice.
It's nothing much, but it was nice.
Simply strange butterflies.
The kind that flatter by.
Love
Is the beauty in the chase.
Love
Is the beauty in saving Grace.
Once you catch up to love.
It's more about commitment and drive.
That's how I lost love.
I found it before I knew this.
Love
I hate that you carve.
Thoughts of you...
843 reads
3 Comments
My Apology
I thought before I could think.
Acted before I could blink.
Regretfully now I sink.
My apology into ink.
I'm sorry I was inconsiderate.
But I can't change that I'm an idiot.
Sometimes I do things on auto pilot.
Only to realise when my heart feels regret.
That I'm dumb enough to not just wait.
Tell me how to make it up to you.
However you choose, I will do.
Tell me I'm forgiven.
And I'll smile as if it's forbidden.
Accept my apology.
And I'll dance around my stupid psychology.
Sorry is just a summary.
And this is...
Acted before I could blink.
Regretfully now I sink.
My apology into ink.
I'm sorry I was inconsiderate.
But I can't change that I'm an idiot.
Sometimes I do things on auto pilot.
Only to realise when my heart feels regret.
That I'm dumb enough to not just wait.
Tell me how to make it up to you.
However you choose, I will do.
Tell me I'm forgiven.
And I'll smile as if it's forbidden.
Accept my apology.
And I'll dance around my stupid psychology.
Sorry is just a summary.
And this is...
885 reads
3 Comments
Punching holes on walls (laws are whores)
Punching holes on walls.
To feed my flaws.
Life gave me chores.
So I get rid of whores.
The same whores that stood on corners.
Waiting for my vulnerable moment.
So they can torment.
These whores with diabolical arrows.
Point me to living in entrapment.
Yes they are in the parliament.
Punching holes on all closed door.
To reveal these whores.
Whom we address as LAWS.
The kind that bend me over.
To bend you higher.
Through whores your build an empire.
Still grows the desire.
So you bend me further to get higher.
As if...
To feed my flaws.
Life gave me chores.
So I get rid of whores.
The same whores that stood on corners.
Waiting for my vulnerable moment.
So they can torment.
These whores with diabolical arrows.
Point me to living in entrapment.
Yes they are in the parliament.
Punching holes on all closed door.
To reveal these whores.
Whom we address as LAWS.
The kind that bend me over.
To bend you higher.
Through whores your build an empire.
Still grows the desire.
So you bend me further to get higher.
As if...
796 reads
4 Comments
The Morning After
The morning after I held you in my arms.
After I cupped your breasts in my palms.
Like fragile cookie doe.
No regrets, I just hope you know.
After your mysterious eyes.
Led me to within your thighs.
Your charm suddenly became allure.
Deeper emotions, galore.
White sheets and bare skin.
From beneath your chin,
To between twins.
Past the deeply inhaled air in your chest.
Down to where sensation is best.
My tongue idled.
Proving to be not only to cast words.
But to cast her cheering sigh.
I'm shy but I do try.
...
After I cupped your breasts in my palms.
Like fragile cookie doe.
No regrets, I just hope you know.
After your mysterious eyes.
Led me to within your thighs.
Your charm suddenly became allure.
Deeper emotions, galore.
White sheets and bare skin.
From beneath your chin,
To between twins.
Past the deeply inhaled air in your chest.
Down to where sensation is best.
My tongue idled.
Proving to be not only to cast words.
But to cast her cheering sigh.
I'm shy but I do try.
...
1181 reads
3 Comments
Death Has A Fear
Death has A fear
But does not care.
Death fears to bare
A glimpse of love it's heir.
Death cause no pain.
Thus creates a balance.
But upon it's memory lane.
Death fails to announce the innocence.
Death does not live with the dead.
Nor does he take away the alive.
Death merely transports does who have passed.
To different destination by different belief.
Death fails to sympathize.
For those eager to compromise.
Death's etiquette balance.
Thus becomes the rumour's resemblance.
Death: my sleep so long.
Fear:...
But does not care.
Death fears to bare
A glimpse of love it's heir.
Death cause no pain.
Thus creates a balance.
But upon it's memory lane.
Death fails to announce the innocence.
Death does not live with the dead.
Nor does he take away the alive.
Death merely transports does who have passed.
To different destination by different belief.
Death fails to sympathize.
For those eager to compromise.
Death's etiquette balance.
Thus becomes the rumour's resemblance.
Death: my sleep so long.
Fear:...
940 reads
4 Comments
Who Am I (alliteration)
Am I perhaps that precious parcel of person we people pass in.
Maybe that vividly vile, victimtious being of volatile vulnerability.
That cautious coward always consciously counting captures, while you yourself are "court" behind your self righteous cautious-ness.
That simple silent soul, solemnly sinking sadness with several sedatives.
That bashful being battering to be or not to be: birth by bad, belched by broads or branded by blood.
That innocent idiot, ill but illustratively impressive, idiotic but inseparable with his innocence....
Maybe that vividly vile, victimtious being of volatile vulnerability.
That cautious coward always consciously counting captures, while you yourself are "court" behind your self righteous cautious-ness.
That simple silent soul, solemnly sinking sadness with several sedatives.
That bashful being battering to be or not to be: birth by bad, belched by broads or branded by blood.
That innocent idiot, ill but illustratively impressive, idiotic but inseparable with his innocence....
2345 reads
4 Comments
this crazy thing called GRACE
Crazy I'm a certain manner.
Grace on a certain day.
Bashful her crazy smile. Revealing her cheerful charms.
A lady she be.
From the women she has been.
She is what she imagines, not we.
Disguised as dignity and honour.
She can be what she sets out to be.
Yet she choose non to be but her.
A lady not in fear.
That touches you with the gentleness you feel inside.
Ohh my, this crazy special thing called grace.
You see grace is not crazy.
Nor is a person.
Continuously she'll knock on you heart.
And say "hi my name is...
Grace on a certain day.
Bashful her crazy smile. Revealing her cheerful charms.
A lady she be.
From the women she has been.
She is what she imagines, not we.
Disguised as dignity and honour.
She can be what she sets out to be.
Yet she choose non to be but her.
A lady not in fear.
That touches you with the gentleness you feel inside.
Ohh my, this crazy special thing called grace.
You see grace is not crazy.
Nor is a person.
Continuously she'll knock on you heart.
And say "hi my name is...
793 reads
2 Comments
Addicted To Society
Am I a slave to this poverty.
This hunger of my personality.
That desire to have verbal equity..
I'm just another addict to society.
She spent my childhood preparing me to hate being alone..
To never do things on my own..
She made sure I'm sad without society..
But I'm glad.
I'm not bound by shackles of verbal equity.
I'm still glad, she's mad about what she had..
To often she asked me "why"?
Why am I not the precious parcel of person people pass in..
To surpass the subduing smack of smile on thou infinitely subduing face.....
This hunger of my personality.
That desire to have verbal equity..
I'm just another addict to society.
She spent my childhood preparing me to hate being alone..
To never do things on my own..
She made sure I'm sad without society..
But I'm glad.
I'm not bound by shackles of verbal equity.
I'm still glad, she's mad about what she had..
To often she asked me "why"?
Why am I not the precious parcel of person people pass in..
To surpass the subduing smack of smile on thou infinitely subduing face.....
918 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lunga
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