Submissions by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Jul 2019 00:42am
28th Jul 2019 00:42am
BANGS ON FLEEK
he had an understanding of posture
and its functions in this world.
he was getting old but always walked
as tho he’d a life to save somewhere.
I don’t know how old he was
but his once blonde hair
had began whitening sometime ago.
he didn't have any children
and had gambled his life--his whole life.
I was his new neighbour of sorts.
I could hear him singing and slapping
rhythmically in the night on the counter
against my wall on the other side.
at night I could sense his exquisite solitude
and then my own. ...
and its functions in this world.
he was getting old but always walked
as tho he’d a life to save somewhere.
I don’t know how old he was
but his once blonde hair
had began whitening sometime ago.
he didn't have any children
and had gambled his life--his whole life.
I was his new neighbour of sorts.
I could hear him singing and slapping
rhythmically in the night on the counter
against my wall on the other side.
at night I could sense his exquisite solitude
and then my own. ...
#murder
47 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Jul 2019 00:35am
21st Jul 2019 00:35am
COLLECTING DATA
if you could repeat something to your grandma so she'd remember it.
so it'd resist the caterpillars in the garden of her memory you'd say body
is laughter and laughter is the body.
then butterflies.
like pink night clouds on gluey sky.
or you'd tell her
where the walnuts fell
there'll be walnuts again
that turn into hedgehogs at night.
like alzheimer is the opposite of dreaming.
your grandma would say the world is bonkers
and that it's raving. when she was just in fear
of her view describing herself. ...
so it'd resist the caterpillars in the garden of her memory you'd say body
is laughter and laughter is the body.
then butterflies.
like pink night clouds on gluey sky.
or you'd tell her
where the walnuts fell
there'll be walnuts again
that turn into hedgehogs at night.
like alzheimer is the opposite of dreaming.
your grandma would say the world is bonkers
and that it's raving. when she was just in fear
of her view describing herself. ...
#death
66 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
18th Jul 2019 11:15pm
18th Jul 2019 11:15pm
HAPHAZARDNESS
I sit in a plane
my seat is next to a window
I prefer the windows
so I can see the cities move at night.
there are three seats
on each side of the aisle.
a woman sits one seat over to my right.
when we’re in the air
she pushes one of the dividing arms up
and lays down across the two seats
with her head pressed
into my outer thigh and sleeps.
I sleep too.
I’ve been too comfortable
my whole life.
the pilot says we’ll be landing
pretty soon and shortly after
the...
my seat is next to a window
I prefer the windows
so I can see the cities move at night.
there are three seats
on each side of the aisle.
a woman sits one seat over to my right.
when we’re in the air
she pushes one of the dividing arms up
and lays down across the two seats
with her head pressed
into my outer thigh and sleeps.
I sleep too.
I’ve been too comfortable
my whole life.
the pilot says we’ll be landing
pretty soon and shortly after
the...
#technology
54 reads
14 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
17th Jul 2019 4:55pm
17th Jul 2019 4:55pm
GENETIC MEMORY OF HONEY
MORNING
you spoke orange light
fearless creature movements
but fearing to turn inside out
taking more than your share
of oxygen fucking so violently
MIDDAY
we parted as cowards or snails do
keeping ourselves and our limbs in
more than we’d managed to in 10 days
I turned back to watch you walk
AFTERNOON
came home came back to where we’d left
and slowly I realised you’d left so little of you
I could only find traces...
you spoke orange light
fearless creature movements
but fearing to turn inside out
taking more than your share
of oxygen fucking so violently
MIDDAY
we parted as cowards or snails do
keeping ourselves and our limbs in
more than we’d managed to in 10 days
I turned back to watch you walk
AFTERNOON
came home came back to where we’d left
and slowly I realised you’d left so little of you
I could only find traces...
#LifeCycle
55 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
14th Jul 2019 12:18pm
14th Jul 2019 12:18pm
OUROBOROS
I have created; we are all creators/consumers. I have created myself out of silence/filled windows. I have consumed too little from outside of myself—constructed so many close and intricate relationships. only to burn each one and return to the creation of silence. I get lonelier and watch one limb one day turn transparent. another limb the next day. I am a creator. I’ve created my own languages/cultures/philosophies. how long ago did I stop consuming anything around me/how long have I been consuming myself. barely a limb left. what’s left is alien/gets lonelier. I am vanishing. I have...
#food
93 reads
13 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Jul 2019 11:52pm
10th Jul 2019 11:52pm
ALMOST STORM
someone old in this building
reverse slams a door. we all see
and don’t see
the trees absorbing the birds.
a dog knows less of the wilderness
than say an ant
say a washing line.
the difference between
appearing in places
and places appearing.
the difference is surprise.
within a dialogue
between a distant dog
and my clock is the death
of the birds' sound. it is england
all the time. a boy’s red bike
goes dark and glows
the boy leaves a long hair
of sound from the pedal to the door handle.
the...
reverse slams a door. we all see
and don’t see
the trees absorbing the birds.
a dog knows less of the wilderness
than say an ant
say a washing line.
the difference between
appearing in places
and places appearing.
the difference is surprise.
within a dialogue
between a distant dog
and my clock is the death
of the birds' sound. it is england
all the time. a boy’s red bike
goes dark and glows
the boy leaves a long hair
of sound from the pedal to the door handle.
the...
#misunderstood
55 reads
9 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Jul 2019 8:06pm
9th Jul 2019 8:06pm
guiltSQUAREshameONEregret
I lie my body on a concrete floor for three days.
I just put air into it.
sometimes I'm conscious of that.
my body has 3 positions it can use
when the numbness gets unbearable.
there is a permanent strip light
on above where I lie.
I think I am guessing pretty well
when it's night/day.
my body is a metronome.
when I piss I piss dark
into a steel toilet that's seen
a gruesome amount of shrivelled dicks.
lying I always have a hand or forearm
across my eyes...
I just put air into it.
sometimes I'm conscious of that.
my body has 3 positions it can use
when the numbness gets unbearable.
there is a permanent strip light
on above where I lie.
I think I am guessing pretty well
when it's night/day.
my body is a metronome.
when I piss I piss dark
into a steel toilet that's seen
a gruesome amount of shrivelled dicks.
lying I always have a hand or forearm
across my eyes...
#birds
105 reads
8 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
5th Jul 2019 11:48pm
5th Jul 2019 11:48pm
AFRICA
you once described my penis phonetically as imph
which admittedly is a visually small word/a water fairy
of a word. we go lie in the room where the moon is.
our shadows sit on the wall. In the living room
is the analogue wall clock/altho the time is visible digitally
on the TV receiver/the wall clock’s metronomic ticking
tempers the silence I normally live in
there my dog dreams loudly
making most ppl and even neighbours
concerned I imagine/she’s an excited zebra.
if you visit me you visit africa.
my dog is africa/visiting you in her...
which admittedly is a visually small word/a water fairy
of a word. we go lie in the room where the moon is.
our shadows sit on the wall. In the living room
is the analogue wall clock/altho the time is visible digitally
on the TV receiver/the wall clock’s metronomic ticking
tempers the silence I normally live in
there my dog dreams loudly
making most ppl and even neighbours
concerned I imagine/she’s an excited zebra.
if you visit me you visit africa.
my dog is africa/visiting you in her...
#bees
70 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
9th Nov 2018 11:12pm
9th Nov 2018 11:12pm
AND IF I DON'T STOP SO FKN WHAT
if we knew each other's true secrets we'd be
single forever but then we write
them in poems and hope nobody
takes it seriously. my dog wrote
a poem about how he'd love
to learn to swim in me.
his honesty is an alien love.
I must drink beer. moderately end regularly
to calm my inside dragon.
if you think you are zero percent dragon
you are ridiculous.
I'm not radical or made of wind alone.
ewe touch me like a melting lake.
by waking I slay dragons.
I watched a deep red sunrise ...
single forever but then we write
them in poems and hope nobody
takes it seriously. my dog wrote
a poem about how he'd love
to learn to swim in me.
his honesty is an alien love.
I must drink beer. moderately end regularly
to calm my inside dragon.
if you think you are zero percent dragon
you are ridiculous.
I'm not radical or made of wind alone.
ewe touch me like a melting lake.
by waking I slay dragons.
I watched a deep red sunrise ...
#water
149 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Apr 2018 10:47pm
16th Apr 2018 10:47pm
ALL THE I LOVE YOUS
#humankind
270 reads
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
25th Mar 2018 3:18am
25th Mar 2018 3:18am
IT'S BEEN A DARK FEW DAYS
young falcons are making seagull cries the fields are stationary green waves glistening smell of cow shit wet shoes crickets unmoving sound dancing out the flowers everywhere sign refusing dog shit hidden by a big bush sign saying wanderweg without an arrow body runs in every direction at the same time instinctively the sun widens only if I look at its photospheric emission so it stays thin as music you're singing too am I paranoid is everything singing when I'm not there
#aliens
266 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
22nd Mar 2018 9:10pm
22nd Mar 2018 9:10pm
MAYBE THEY DON'T SOUND LIKE GULLS AT ALL
fledgling falcons sound just like seagulls again today
and when I hear it I shut my eyes
and feel the sun
and hear the wind
and it's enough
to remind my skinless beast
of vast edges.
nostalgia is a melancholic great
waste of emotion.
time is an onion being sliced
slowly and forever.
I fear artificial lighting and vascular hangovers
and being too proud to just turn alien on drugs and really
embrace my islandness.
I can shut my eyes in the rain and think
of absolutely nothing.
not even absence ...
and when I hear it I shut my eyes
and feel the sun
and hear the wind
and it's enough
to remind my skinless beast
of vast edges.
nostalgia is a melancholic great
waste of emotion.
time is an onion being sliced
slowly and forever.
I fear artificial lighting and vascular hangovers
and being too proud to just turn alien on drugs and really
embrace my islandness.
I can shut my eyes in the rain and think
of absolutely nothing.
not even absence ...
#aliens
308 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
