Submissions by MindCandy
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Jul 2016 4:15pm
22nd Jul 2016 4:15pm
Questions
What is right or pure,
or wrong,
or solid,
or fake,
or smart,
or not?
What is perfection?
It is different for us all.
It can be a breeze that reminds us of home.
It that perfect? Is it not?
It's complicated.
It's a mess.
Is it the mess?
Is this mess what's perfect? or not?
Will we ever know?
Or is it the fact,
that we get to question at all?
And how in the hell,
will we ever know?
or wrong,
or solid,
or fake,
or smart,
or not?
What is perfection?
It is different for us all.
It can be a breeze that reminds us of home.
It that perfect? Is it not?
It's complicated.
It's a mess.
Is it the mess?
Is this mess what's perfect? or not?
Will we ever know?
Or is it the fact,
that we get to question at all?
And how in the hell,
will we ever know?
492 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Jul 2016 4:14pm
22nd Jul 2016 4:14pm
mundane
cream
sugar
milk
eggs
I will make cake
go to work
"No, I can't mark that down. Yes, I can get my manager."
give a fake laugh
eat nothing
go home
make dinner
chicken
rice
broccoli
for him
a kiss
a hug
to sleep
too tired
not tonight
no cake
sugar
milk
eggs
I will make cake
go to work
"No, I can't mark that down. Yes, I can get my manager."
give a fake laugh
eat nothing
go home
make dinner
chicken
rice
broccoli
for him
a kiss
a hug
to sleep
too tired
not tonight
no cake
390 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Jul 2016 3:59pm
21st Jul 2016 3:59pm
A statement, nothing more, meh
These are not poems.
These are battle cries.
They are not poems.
They are eulogies.
This is not poetry.
This is therapy.
It's not just a handful of words,
scribbled or typed.
It's what keeps us sane, whole, safe,
"normal".
Poetry is the food stuff of our souls.
It is a sweet candy for our minds.
Think and feel.
These are battle cries.
They are not poems.
They are eulogies.
This is not poetry.
This is therapy.
It's not just a handful of words,
scribbled or typed.
It's what keeps us sane, whole, safe,
"normal".
Poetry is the food stuff of our souls.
It is a sweet candy for our minds.
Think and feel.
457 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
20th Jul 2016 5:46pm
20th Jul 2016 5:46pm
the crippling overflow
I can't.
I can't do this.
I can't write it all out; put it into words.
I can't wrap up so much; box it and top it with a bow.
I can't.
It's too much.
It's so much.
I'm drowning in it.
So I'm sorry but I can't write this poem for you.
- for my love,
forever and always
I can't do this.
I can't write it all out; put it into words.
I can't wrap up so much; box it and top it with a bow.
I can't.
It's too much.
It's so much.
I'm drowning in it.
So I'm sorry but I can't write this poem for you.
- for my love,
forever and always
378 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Jul 2016 5:42pm
20th Jul 2016 5:42pm
think
What else is there?
433 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Mar 2016 10:23pm
13th Mar 2016 10:23pm
Clarence
He's dead now.
He's dead and buried.
And no one cares, not really.
They say, "Oh, I'm so sorry."
But they don't really mean it.
Because to them, he didn't really matter.
To them, I'm being childish.
Why cry over his death?
It's nothing to cry about.
But I cried, because I lost my best friend.
I cried because he had seen me through some of the worst parts of my life.
I cried because he always knew what I felt.
And always knew what I needed.
He always gave me hope, love, and home.
I cry because he isn't here....
He's dead and buried.
And no one cares, not really.
They say, "Oh, I'm so sorry."
But they don't really mean it.
Because to them, he didn't really matter.
To them, I'm being childish.
Why cry over his death?
It's nothing to cry about.
But I cried, because I lost my best friend.
I cried because he had seen me through some of the worst parts of my life.
I cried because he always knew what I felt.
And always knew what I needed.
He always gave me hope, love, and home.
I cry because he isn't here....
518 reads
2 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
13th Mar 2016 10:00pm
13th Mar 2016 10:00pm
The Point?
I moved out.
I am my own adult now.
I left behind the judgment of my Christian mother,
and my party going father.
Divorcees that judge, how ironic.
For I am not good, or bad, enough for either of them.
I found a good place in my life.
I have friends that care.
Friends who love and support me, for me.
And now it is spring break,
a time of renewal and birth.
My parents have invited themselves to my new home.
I hate them for it.
Why can't they just LEAVE ME ALONE?
What is the purpose of still judging me and making my life...
I am my own adult now.
I left behind the judgment of my Christian mother,
and my party going father.
Divorcees that judge, how ironic.
For I am not good, or bad, enough for either of them.
I found a good place in my life.
I have friends that care.
Friends who love and support me, for me.
And now it is spring break,
a time of renewal and birth.
My parents have invited themselves to my new home.
I hate them for it.
Why can't they just LEAVE ME ALONE?
What is the purpose of still judging me and making my life...
482 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Jan 2016 8:20am
15th Jan 2016 8:20am
Up?
We climb, up, up, up,
We wish to reach the top,
To feel the sun on our face,
the wind in our hair.
We climb, up, up, up,
We strive to be free of the green plumage around us that is this jungle,
to drink up the vast ocean of pure blue sky.
We climb, up, up, up,
To know the names of the clouds,
And to kiss the face of God.
We climb, up, up, up,
But SNAP!
And we're falling, tumbling,
Thud.
Stuck in the dirt and mud.
Do we dare?
Do we depart from our new home in the dust?
Do we climb?
Do you...
We wish to reach the top,
To feel the sun on our face,
the wind in our hair.
We climb, up, up, up,
We strive to be free of the green plumage around us that is this jungle,
to drink up the vast ocean of pure blue sky.
We climb, up, up, up,
To know the names of the clouds,
And to kiss the face of God.
We climb, up, up, up,
But SNAP!
And we're falling, tumbling,
Thud.
Stuck in the dirt and mud.
Do we dare?
Do we depart from our new home in the dust?
Do we climb?
Do you...
445 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
23rd Jul 2014 6:03am
23rd Jul 2014 6:03am
Symbolism of the Seasons in My Life
Broken branches.
Cold wind blows dead leaves around my face.
Dead.
Every thing is dead.
It is cold and depressing.
Why does the cold cut so annoyingly deep.
The tv. plays snow.
I hurt, but I always hurt.
This incessant symbolism of my pathetic life is making it all worse.
I die waiting for spring.
Will I also be reborn?
Cold wind blows dead leaves around my face.
Dead.
Every thing is dead.
It is cold and depressing.
Why does the cold cut so annoyingly deep.
The tv. plays snow.
I hurt, but I always hurt.
This incessant symbolism of my pathetic life is making it all worse.
I die waiting for spring.
Will I also be reborn?
732 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Jun 2013 4:58am
17th Jun 2013 4:58am
Point of View of a Loner
I'm in a sea of people
People I see every day
Every week
Yet I do not know them
And they do not know me
This day is cold
And alone
I feel the hypothermia setting in
The cold sea of people chills my skin
I try to cling to life,
But am only pushed away
I decide to hide but there is no place to hide in an ocean.
Quietly, silently, and with out notice I disappear into the cold dark abyss
I am invisible, gone
I am unseen in a sea of people.
The end.
People I see every day
Every week
Yet I do not know them
And they do not know me
This day is cold
And alone
I feel the hypothermia setting in
The cold sea of people chills my skin
I try to cling to life,
But am only pushed away
I decide to hide but there is no place to hide in an ocean.
Quietly, silently, and with out notice I disappear into the cold dark abyss
I am invisible, gone
I am unseen in a sea of people.
The end.
683 reads
3 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
17th Jun 2013 4:50am
17th Jun 2013 4:50am
Prayers
Dear God,
What do you want me to do?
I just feel like I have no clue.
I'm so lost all the time.
I'm torn between his and hers,
what about mine.
They all need me to survive,
But I can't hsndle being theirs.
Sometimes I just want to run awat from messed up lives.
Dear God,
It's Father's Day.
I went to church and couldn't focus.
Because it's moments like these when U have to choose,
between step dad and father.
Lord God, what do I do?
Dear God,
I let them all down again.
I messed up and hated myself for it....
What do you want me to do?
I just feel like I have no clue.
I'm so lost all the time.
I'm torn between his and hers,
what about mine.
They all need me to survive,
But I can't hsndle being theirs.
Sometimes I just want to run awat from messed up lives.
Dear God,
It's Father's Day.
I went to church and couldn't focus.
Because it's moments like these when U have to choose,
between step dad and father.
Lord God, what do I do?
Dear God,
I let them all down again.
I messed up and hated myself for it....
699 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by MindCandy
