Submissions by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SELF POEM
Published
5th Jul 2012 6:53pm
5th Jul 2012 6:53pm
Bored
The buses go past here every half an hour,
each one a reminder of lost time.
I read, write something, look out the window
and there's another fucking bus
full of miserable bodies. I emphasize
then get back to despising the bus
like it's at fault for my hour-draining pretensions.
Can't even wank anymore.
It only gets hard when I get aggressive
or is it the other way 'round?
Not even sure and I'd rather not know.
The more I try the more I'm repulsed
by attractive women.
There's the next bus.
Driving off with my empty thirty...
each one a reminder of lost time.
I read, write something, look out the window
and there's another fucking bus
full of miserable bodies. I emphasize
then get back to despising the bus
like it's at fault for my hour-draining pretensions.
Can't even wank anymore.
It only gets hard when I get aggressive
or is it the other way 'round?
Not even sure and I'd rather not know.
The more I try the more I'm repulsed
by attractive women.
There's the next bus.
Driving off with my empty thirty...
786 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
3rd Jul 2012 6:29pm
3rd Jul 2012 6:29pm
It
It's in the deer tracks
in the trampled grass
turning green to brown
It's in the thin skin of hope
you're comfortable to wear
after years of being skinned
by Its hidden blade
It's in the smile of infants
licking their ice-creams
as they look at their mothers
like viewing a fossil
It's in the kiss of lovers
at the foot of the ocean
as their hearts beat faster
ticking like a stopwatch
and the waves ripple
towards Its day too
It's...
in the trampled grass
turning green to brown
It's in the thin skin of hope
you're comfortable to wear
after years of being skinned
by Its hidden blade
It's in the smile of infants
licking their ice-creams
as they look at their mothers
like viewing a fossil
It's in the kiss of lovers
at the foot of the ocean
as their hearts beat faster
ticking like a stopwatch
and the waves ripple
towards Its day too
It's...
949 reads
7 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Jul 2012 8:17am
3rd Jul 2012 8:17am
sedation
lips were a blur and eyes that look
like they expect a response
but don't wait for a millisecond
eye brows are horizontal crescents
whipping around like hungry leeches
sucking nothing but my attention
I'm not just silent through this ritual
I hear nothing and see from an almost
metaphysical perspective
where I observe the functions
of a premenstrual warrior
I don't mean to dismiss her
with shrugs and vacous nods
but I can't help admiring
the performance in offending
and rassling neutral air
...
like they expect a response
but don't wait for a millisecond
eye brows are horizontal crescents
whipping around like hungry leeches
sucking nothing but my attention
I'm not just silent through this ritual
I hear nothing and see from an almost
metaphysical perspective
where I observe the functions
of a premenstrual warrior
I don't mean to dismiss her
with shrugs and vacous nods
but I can't help admiring
the performance in offending
and rassling neutral air
...
677 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
2nd Jul 2012 9:43am
2nd Jul 2012 9:43am
Town of Gold
There's a valley of gold in the middle of Germany tonight
in a humble town of historic unimportance, in fact
the only importance this rubble in the pit possesses
is a paradox quality of distributing copious amounts of beer
and a huge cathedral that is more of a statement than a place of worship.
I look down the valley every evening from my window.
With the Rayliegh scattering blended with vapours and pollution
I feed my eyes on every colour in the ultraviolet spectrum
often alternating through every colour before the sun escapes.
It starts with...
in a humble town of historic unimportance, in fact
the only importance this rubble in the pit possesses
is a paradox quality of distributing copious amounts of beer
and a huge cathedral that is more of a statement than a place of worship.
I look down the valley every evening from my window.
With the Rayliegh scattering blended with vapours and pollution
I feed my eyes on every colour in the ultraviolet spectrum
often alternating through every colour before the sun escapes.
It starts with...
667 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Jun 2012 9:48pm
30th Jun 2012 9:48pm
The Weld
Blister me on your celestial tour
and force me to yearn for your foe
when this mother reduces me to puddles
and hunting elusive shades,
I long:
I long for the twiggy fingers
on bony branches that scratch up
at the greys and whites;
trees on their knees reaching for heaven
hoping for seasonal mercy,
I long for the sharp wind
that cuts the air
and cuts whatever's too bold or stupid.
You may dazzle me when the mood fits
when you're sitting low
and gracing skyscapes with reds and oranges
as you set or rise...
and force me to yearn for your foe
when this mother reduces me to puddles
and hunting elusive shades,
I long:
I long for the twiggy fingers
on bony branches that scratch up
at the greys and whites;
trees on their knees reaching for heaven
hoping for seasonal mercy,
I long for the sharp wind
that cuts the air
and cuts whatever's too bold or stupid.
You may dazzle me when the mood fits
when you're sitting low
and gracing skyscapes with reds and oranges
as you set or rise...
603 reads
5 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
30th Jun 2012 00:12am
30th Jun 2012 00:12am
weightlessness
I saw an angel once in the snow
I was young, being a man
behaving more like an idiot
I think she loved my idiocy
she stood before me
both severely intoxicated
on wine, beer and each other
at that very moment
the whole world slowed down
the snow flakes were huge
bigger than my eyes falling
so slow they almost reversed
I weighed nothing
disembodied with heart
I was weightless for a week
chipping away at the angelic frame
with my much adored bravado
turns out there are no fucking angels
but sometimes...
I was young, being a man
behaving more like an idiot
I think she loved my idiocy
she stood before me
both severely intoxicated
on wine, beer and each other
at that very moment
the whole world slowed down
the snow flakes were huge
bigger than my eyes falling
so slow they almost reversed
I weighed nothing
disembodied with heart
I was weightless for a week
chipping away at the angelic frame
with my much adored bravado
turns out there are no fucking angels
but sometimes...
661 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
29th Jun 2012 9:46pm
29th Jun 2012 9:46pm
Plastic Bags
Those relentless winds swooped you up
right from under my nose.
My grip too weak; the winds too strong.
Like a bad cliche our fingers departed.
You were flapping, snapping and pulling higher
like a discarded plastic bag
barely brushing the surfaces.
I'm in a dull room with a chess board and a loaded gun
this shapeless grim figure before me
always played with a loaded gun.
I couldn't take a pawn, never mind a queen.
You flew over tall church spires with bells
that did not ring anymore.
Floods of people poured...
right from under my nose.
My grip too weak; the winds too strong.
Like a bad cliche our fingers departed.
You were flapping, snapping and pulling higher
like a discarded plastic bag
barely brushing the surfaces.
I'm in a dull room with a chess board and a loaded gun
this shapeless grim figure before me
always played with a loaded gun.
I couldn't take a pawn, never mind a queen.
You flew over tall church spires with bells
that did not ring anymore.
Floods of people poured...
854 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
29th Jun 2012 1:27am
29th Jun 2012 1:27am
Still
Just after midnight on the grass
there's a wind through the still
after baked humidity,
barely noticeable.
The sky is some kind of opaque
puce on a navy blue skin.
Can't seem to categorize or describe it,
not even with poetry,
but that doesn't matter.
The lack of movement and sound
is pure, virgin and innocent.
If it wasn't for my conscience
this would be death.
there's a wind through the still
after baked humidity,
barely noticeable.
The sky is some kind of opaque
puce on a navy blue skin.
Can't seem to categorize or describe it,
not even with poetry,
but that doesn't matter.
The lack of movement and sound
is pure, virgin and innocent.
If it wasn't for my conscience
this would be death.
716 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th Jun 2012 5:29pm
27th Jun 2012 5:29pm
Her Belonging
Her slender vases exposed her frailty
and blasphemous primal tendencies.
Never a spec of dust had sat for more than an hour
without her religious dusting substituting her lust.
She gets up in the mornings just to keep alive, hoping
though she doesn't know what for.
She doesn't understand loneliness, she knows
she's alone and her being is poised on evading thoughts.
She feared the sky at night; to her it appeared
as fireflies caught in a giant cobweb
because reality would give her a stroke
and she's scared enough of...
and blasphemous primal tendencies.
Never a spec of dust had sat for more than an hour
without her religious dusting substituting her lust.
She gets up in the mornings just to keep alive, hoping
though she doesn't know what for.
She doesn't understand loneliness, she knows
she's alone and her being is poised on evading thoughts.
She feared the sky at night; to her it appeared
as fireflies caught in a giant cobweb
because reality would give her a stroke
and she's scared enough of...
719 reads
8 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Jun 2012 5:20pm
27th Jun 2012 5:20pm
what I know
there's enough that I don't know I
don't know
how to breathe in water but you know
you know I
don't know how to swim upstream I
know you know
and that's why we are. You shouldn't -
be around me I
have to be around you this
I know I
know that you shouldn't be around me
don't know
how to breathe in water but you know
you know I
don't know how to swim upstream I
know you know
and that's why we are. You shouldn't -
be around me I
have to be around you this
I know I
know that you shouldn't be around me
673 reads
10 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Jun 2012 12:08pm
23rd Jun 2012 12:08pm
sometimes I peel back a seem
from the fabric of our being
then force a reluctant eye through
and become overwhelmed
I see people, clothed
with haircuts and watches
developed by man
in his dying hours
I see resources drained
regardless of the cost
but look how far we've come
we floated through water
squirmed in mud
swung in trees
and walked on the moon
an accomplishment
to be proud of
no knowledge gained
creation forever
enshrouded
we throw...
from the fabric of our being
then force a reluctant eye through
and become overwhelmed
I see people, clothed
with haircuts and watches
developed by man
in his dying hours
I see resources drained
regardless of the cost
but look how far we've come
we floated through water
squirmed in mud
swung in trees
and walked on the moon
an accomplishment
to be proud of
no knowledge gained
creation forever
enshrouded
we throw...
660 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
21st Jun 2012 7:37pm
21st Jun 2012 7:37pm
the left hand
your faithful sun hangs idle in the sky
looking tired, abandoned and impatient
I've grown restless from waiting;
gnawing on the same air and solids
night
after day
after night
somewhere beyond that dying star
is a God who hates me;
who's kept me breathing(alive) -
forsaking me with a touch that kills
and a love that defines insanity
I am lost in circles of shamans and mystics
though I accompany them into Tartarus
somewhere beyond that dying star...
looking tired, abandoned and impatient
I've grown restless from waiting;
gnawing on the same air and solids
night
after day
after night
somewhere beyond that dying star
is a God who hates me;
who's kept me breathing(alive) -
forsaking me with a touch that kills
and a love that defines insanity
I am lost in circles of shamans and mystics
though I accompany them into Tartarus
somewhere beyond that dying star...
602 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
