Submissions by Mitochondrial (Will lou White)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Cynical, satire and romantic with subtle surrealist touches. Not all in one go though obviously. Most of my poems are non rhyming, poetic short stories.
LOVE POEM
Published
29th Jul 2013 4:52pm
29th Jul 2013 4:52pm
A message to guys with pierced lips and screwed up noses.
When she throws a tantrum,
tips over the lillies;
breaks the vase
and throws
all of your clothes
out of the suitcases
guarding her bed:
Don't ask why.
Instead,
repair the vase even
if you can't find
all of the lillies.
Throw out the broken stems.
Put the flowers back
and use all of your spare shirts
to soak up the water
on her floor because
she won't tell you where the paper towels are.
Tell her that you don't know
his exact frustration,
but you know one similar.
Tell her your...
tips over the lillies;
breaks the vase
and throws
all of your clothes
out of the suitcases
guarding her bed:
Don't ask why.
Instead,
repair the vase even
if you can't find
all of the lillies.
Throw out the broken stems.
Put the flowers back
and use all of your spare shirts
to soak up the water
on her floor because
she won't tell you where the paper towels are.
Tell her that you don't know
his exact frustration,
but you know one similar.
Tell her your...
806 reads
0 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
21st Jul 2013 3:48am
21st Jul 2013 3:48am
thats all you will be to them.
In time, maybe, you'll meet someone
whose hands only touch paper,
their palms forever open and
marked with minute cuts.
They will write postcards
on your feet and plays
in your chest. They will
fill you with words,
write novels about you,
show that maybe words
can outweigh actions.
You'll become a book
filled with their thoughts.
Maybe you'll meet someone with
conductor fingers and
piano hands. They will be
able to play symphonies
along the ivory notches of
your spine and conduct ...
whose hands only touch paper,
their palms forever open and
marked with minute cuts.
They will write postcards
on your feet and plays
in your chest. They will
fill you with words,
write novels about you,
show that maybe words
can outweigh actions.
You'll become a book
filled with their thoughts.
Maybe you'll meet someone with
conductor fingers and
piano hands. They will be
able to play symphonies
along the ivory notches of
your spine and conduct ...
1064 reads
5 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
20th Jul 2013 10:25am
20th Jul 2013 10:25am
Running
From someones sheets to her sheets;
Seeing one wet promise become the broken one.
The butt of the joke can be summed up
by our relationships.
The meaningless comedown
that seemingly outweighs the spasms
that undertake our daily body
to the tipping point of the scales
where we realise that
this compound
was never really worth it at all.
Seeing one wet promise become the broken one.
The butt of the joke can be summed up
by our relationships.
The meaningless comedown
that seemingly outweighs the spasms
that undertake our daily body
to the tipping point of the scales
where we realise that
this compound
was never really worth it at all.
794 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Jun 2013 6:49am
30th Jun 2013 6:49am
Carpet ideas
I've lost my mind
on a train with
my friends while
buzzing on ecstasy.
I've been to seedy Jamaican clubs
and drunk moonshine
in the heart of london.
I've caught trams with
fashion designers,
writers, artists,
producers and
lovers.
I've caught buses
with pretty girls
on bright sunny days.
But it comes at no surprise
that I'm sitting on my floor
writing about you.
on a train with
my friends while
buzzing on ecstasy.
I've been to seedy Jamaican clubs
and drunk moonshine
in the heart of london.
I've caught trams with
fashion designers,
writers, artists,
producers and
lovers.
I've caught buses
with pretty girls
on bright sunny days.
But it comes at no surprise
that I'm sitting on my floor
writing about you.
856 reads
4 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
25th Jun 2013 6:22am
25th Jun 2013 6:22am
Completely Amsterdamned
Near the windmills
of rural Holland
I lost my beanie
while walking
from the place I stayed
to Schiphol airport
because I spent
all of my money
and time sitting
next to people
I didn't know in
coffee shops I can't
remember and I stared
at the tiled floors of my
hotel's bathroom
to find out
that i was two days
late for my flight.
It took me 531 kilometres
and my remaining two days
in London to notice
my beanie was gone.
of rural Holland
I lost my beanie
while walking
from the place I stayed
to Schiphol airport
because I spent
all of my money
and time sitting
next to people
I didn't know in
coffee shops I can't
remember and I stared
at the tiled floors of my
hotel's bathroom
to find out
that i was two days
late for my flight.
It took me 531 kilometres
and my remaining two days
in London to notice
my beanie was gone.
913 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
16th Jun 2013 10:27pm
16th Jun 2013 10:27pm
Amsterdam
Its an understatement how distance is perceptive
How in a physical presence, you couldn't be further away
but in the least bitterest sense
I still feel your soul impose on my presence
Thats amazing and proof that no one can describe consciousness
and like we've said a million times before, speaking to drunk gods and stoned harlots
that we're all too far away from where we need to be.
How in a physical presence, you couldn't be further away
but in the least bitterest sense
I still feel your soul impose on my presence
Thats amazing and proof that no one can describe consciousness
and like we've said a million times before, speaking to drunk gods and stoned harlots
that we're all too far away from where we need to be.
971 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
9th Jun 2013 6:35am
9th Jun 2013 6:35am
London on a tight schedule
Dosing in and out
of consciousness
with the relative
awareness of
the slow, subtle
pace of my heart,
asking myself
in all fairness
why is it that
the kids who
seem the happiest
run the hardest
towards the balcony?
My mind isn't helping
me, nor them as they
break the mould
while they break
the cement,
never realising
that genius
often comes
with a tourniquet
without
the sense that
it's all betterment
in the end if you
rise from the
smoke filled friends. ...
of consciousness
with the relative
awareness of
the slow, subtle
pace of my heart,
asking myself
in all fairness
why is it that
the kids who
seem the happiest
run the hardest
towards the balcony?
My mind isn't helping
me, nor them as they
break the mould
while they break
the cement,
never realising
that genius
often comes
with a tourniquet
without
the sense that
it's all betterment
in the end if you
rise from the
smoke filled friends. ...
1096 reads
6 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
25th May 2013 5:46am
25th May 2013 5:46am
Timid Transactions
They entered the hotel, and walked from the terminal point
of consciousness to the elevated perspective
of derailing derangement.
Sharing a timid transaction,
on an old, corroded balcony
staring at a peak
off in the horizon;
Their hands found each
other in the cold air
The lilac sheets
and twirling cigarette smoke
that hung around their naked shoulders
only solidified the broken remnants of what
they had become.
Just broken Gods,
sharing the...
of consciousness to the elevated perspective
of derailing derangement.
Sharing a timid transaction,
on an old, corroded balcony
staring at a peak
off in the horizon;
Their hands found each
other in the cold air
The lilac sheets
and twirling cigarette smoke
that hung around their naked shoulders
only solidified the broken remnants of what
they had become.
Just broken Gods,
sharing the...
1067 reads
4 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
23rd May 2013 2:58pm
23rd May 2013 2:58pm
Until it all runs out.
We trickled into a broken light symphony,
drunk on our own timelines and youth,
providing the facts that we thought we knew
and relying on healthpack chemicals
that weren't first placed into our bodies.
Feeling the blasting of our capillaries
form into intricately themed rochaches.
So soullessly involved and cemented
into a momentary significance, feeling the emotions
of abandoned tree houses that kids were born
to grow out of and forget
and keeping the coolness of integrity
pulsating through our veins.
Hanging from the bars of society,...
drunk on our own timelines and youth,
providing the facts that we thought we knew
and relying on healthpack chemicals
that weren't first placed into our bodies.
Feeling the blasting of our capillaries
form into intricately themed rochaches.
So soullessly involved and cemented
into a momentary significance, feeling the emotions
of abandoned tree houses that kids were born
to grow out of and forget
and keeping the coolness of integrity
pulsating through our veins.
Hanging from the bars of society,...
982 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
23rd May 2013 10:23am
23rd May 2013 10:23am
Human Hill
Heartfelt particles remain
to captivate the stage of ants
that preform an old play which
seamlessly co-ordinates
itself into a seen farce;
The sinister hang mans joke
correlating and mimicking
on what they have become;
So one noble trip, or
tangling, maybe rethreading
or cutting the tangible
ribbons of ones essence
to induce a sense of working
relevance.
To be idol Gods in an ideal,
a spear of destiny
in the wheel of enlightenment
that jolts and halts the ever
changing tide of society
momentarily,
whilst...
to captivate the stage of ants
that preform an old play which
seamlessly co-ordinates
itself into a seen farce;
The sinister hang mans joke
correlating and mimicking
on what they have become;
So one noble trip, or
tangling, maybe rethreading
or cutting the tangible
ribbons of ones essence
to induce a sense of working
relevance.
To be idol Gods in an ideal,
a spear of destiny
in the wheel of enlightenment
that jolts and halts the ever
changing tide of society
momentarily,
whilst...
816 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th May 2013 6:10am
15th May 2013 6:10am
Any cat or mother
Happiness isn't an emotion that can be given or forced;
You can make someone feel
depression or insane, anger or
pride or patriotism or
apathy or nostalgia; even fury and angst,
jealousy, lust, despair, sorrow,
contempt, sadness, lost, forgotten,
remembered, paranoid,
untraceable, unloveable,
sometimes even loveable.
These feelings can even be forced
all at the same time.
But peeling back the skin,
You find that any cat
or mother could tell you
happiness can't be replicated
and passed on.
...
You can make someone feel
depression or insane, anger or
pride or patriotism or
apathy or nostalgia; even fury and angst,
jealousy, lust, despair, sorrow,
contempt, sadness, lost, forgotten,
remembered, paranoid,
untraceable, unloveable,
sometimes even loveable.
These feelings can even be forced
all at the same time.
But peeling back the skin,
You find that any cat
or mother could tell you
happiness can't be replicated
and passed on.
...
975 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Mitochondrial (Will lou White)
