Submissions by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SELF POEM
Published
6th May 2012 4:07pm
6th May 2012 4:07pm
First Day(long night)
One train ticket,
handful of alien money,
my old clothes, shoes
and a sense of detachment.
So I just walk, still
with my head up in defense.
I pass faces that don't notice me.
More relief than release.
After feeding on disappointing 'free man's food'
I get the train to where home was
where I'm greeted by old bodies
with the same old gestures.
I fall quickly into their world, spiraling.
When enough drugs and alcohol
are pushed through my vessels
I tell the many stories
like a war hero,
what a...
handful of alien money,
my old clothes, shoes
and a sense of detachment.
So I just walk, still
with my head up in defense.
I pass faces that don't notice me.
More relief than release.
After feeding on disappointing 'free man's food'
I get the train to where home was
where I'm greeted by old bodies
with the same old gestures.
I fall quickly into their world, spiraling.
When enough drugs and alcohol
are pushed through my vessels
I tell the many stories
like a war hero,
what a...
602 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th May 2012 4:28pm
5th May 2012 4:28pm
The Openings
Just another face on Anna's pillow;
I turn the other way,
close my eyes
and freely open.
I'm walking with the wilderbeast
easily avoiding the lions,
they're just not wise enough
but their teeth and eyes get me running
every time they leap closer
their gigantic paws thud and echo,
each thud manifests not as a thud, then
(I hone my ears on the thud)
I'm stunned, as I hear something vocal:
help help help help helphell
then its paws are upon me
claws sink through my skin,
muscle and tendons,...
I turn the other way,
close my eyes
and freely open.
I'm walking with the wilderbeast
easily avoiding the lions,
they're just not wise enough
but their teeth and eyes get me running
every time they leap closer
their gigantic paws thud and echo,
each thud manifests not as a thud, then
(I hone my ears on the thud)
I'm stunned, as I hear something vocal:
help help help help helphell
then its paws are upon me
claws sink through my skin,
muscle and tendons,...
841 reads
4 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
4th May 2012 10:29pm
4th May 2012 10:29pm
Over the Slate and Spires
The blossom of the trees passed my window today,
looked like snow in spring.
I look out past the weather's ironic display,
over the slate and spires.
If those patches of blue between the clouds
are what some say they are,
why don't I see anybody waiting with open arms?
The present is just simple wastes of static, but
the future carries it's kinetic power;
power of possibilities with pockets full of maybes,
then it simmering into static.
Disappointment dribbles down our naive faces.
If somebody's there, waiting somewhere
over...
looked like snow in spring.
I look out past the weather's ironic display,
over the slate and spires.
If those patches of blue between the clouds
are what some say they are,
why don't I see anybody waiting with open arms?
The present is just simple wastes of static, but
the future carries it's kinetic power;
power of possibilities with pockets full of maybes,
then it simmering into static.
Disappointment dribbles down our naive faces.
If somebody's there, waiting somewhere
over...
650 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
3rd May 2012 10:03pm
3rd May 2012 10:03pm
Regret
My head was low and hung today,
perhaps the thoughts weren't light enough.
Memories of medieval acts re-surfaced
from times when I was something else,
something
I can say I now hate.
People walk past me with a nod or "hello",
they've made up their mind and labelled me,
gave me a story that fits to my new tolerances.
A picture painted with naive brushes,
they don't know me,
they don't know.
The more I push the memories away
the more prominent they become:
I remember the speed of my hands,
blurring through...
perhaps the thoughts weren't light enough.
Memories of medieval acts re-surfaced
from times when I was something else,
something
I can say I now hate.
People walk past me with a nod or "hello",
they've made up their mind and labelled me,
gave me a story that fits to my new tolerances.
A picture painted with naive brushes,
they don't know me,
they don't know.
The more I push the memories away
the more prominent they become:
I remember the speed of my hands,
blurring through...
625 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
2nd May 2012 6:47pm
2nd May 2012 6:47pm
Galaxies Apart
Synchronized breathing, galaxies apart
in, out
in, out
in,
in
An atom split, not knowing it's a half
smaller than the others
subconscious acceptance
something hard in this soup...
prominent and definite;
indigestible, but
still I chew it anyway
fascinated by a different soul
every night, then
once the shell's cracked
it's gone
Me: An uncrowned
prince of the gutters.
You: With a world folded
within the creases
of...
in, out
in, out
in,
in
An atom split, not knowing it's a half
smaller than the others
subconscious acceptance
something hard in this soup...
prominent and definite;
indigestible, but
still I chew it anyway
fascinated by a different soul
every night, then
once the shell's cracked
it's gone
Me: An uncrowned
prince of the gutters.
You: With a world folded
within the creases
of...
639 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Apr 2012 9:12pm
30th Apr 2012 9:12pm
Traversed
I know you hate to be alone,
but you don't lie
you tell me something you almost believe
and tell me you miss me, and
I force a smile for your consideration.
I'd ask you questions and more -
I'd tell you what you should question,
but I'm lazy, or scared, or grasping at air.
We eat in the dark every night,
guessing with forks, I
suppose we have no appetite with the light on
anymore.
We once traveled far beyond familiarity
to eventually feel, familiar.
When the wet storms...
but you don't lie
you tell me something you almost believe
and tell me you miss me, and
I force a smile for your consideration.
I'd ask you questions and more -
I'd tell you what you should question,
but I'm lazy, or scared, or grasping at air.
We eat in the dark every night,
guessing with forks, I
suppose we have no appetite with the light on
anymore.
We once traveled far beyond familiarity
to eventually feel, familiar.
When the wet storms...
933 reads
18 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Apr 2012 9:02pm
29th Apr 2012 9:02pm
between the flakes
egg-shell-leaves burst beneath
as the air freezes my excess;
a mist to swirl around me
my body shudders in survival
my head tells it, it's idiotic
shudder later,
when the stars are closer
and conspire against tomorrow
for they know tomorrow's weak
the clock's ticking quicker
as age shows its silhouette
and these words are not so bold
the snow floats slowly down
spontaneous arrangements
imitating constellations
before changing form
I've always fell
quicker than the flakes
landing...
as the air freezes my excess;
a mist to swirl around me
my body shudders in survival
my head tells it, it's idiotic
shudder later,
when the stars are closer
and conspire against tomorrow
for they know tomorrow's weak
the clock's ticking quicker
as age shows its silhouette
and these words are not so bold
the snow floats slowly down
spontaneous arrangements
imitating constellations
before changing form
I've always fell
quicker than the flakes
landing...
651 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
28th Apr 2012 8:46pm
28th Apr 2012 8:46pm
To be believed is stronger than to believe
"Then the arrow, sharp as hate, shears through the same air she blesses and misses her by several feet." Paul Hoffman - The Last Four Things
He glistens:
like the sun off the sea.
He moves:
like the waves: fluid, methodical.
He carries the face of a man
outside the heart of a bear, caged
looking, wanting but cannot touch.
Designed purely to rip flesh, and
drive himself through the heart of life.
He is who he is told he is;
the left hand of God.
Belief in him is what makes him,
for he is just a boy,...
He glistens:
like the sun off the sea.
He moves:
like the waves: fluid, methodical.
He carries the face of a man
outside the heart of a bear, caged
looking, wanting but cannot touch.
Designed purely to rip flesh, and
drive himself through the heart of life.
He is who he is told he is;
the left hand of God.
Belief in him is what makes him,
for he is just a boy,...
630 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th Apr 2012 6:39pm
27th Apr 2012 6:39pm
By The Window
I never thought I'd feared death, but
now I feel it, I hear its footsteps
slowly walking up and down the hallways.
Do I just sit here scared and wait for it?
Or meet him in the hallways and
look him in his hollow eyes?
I wish I had the time to choose.
This tea's been in my hand
for almost an hour now, untouched.
It's purpose was to warm my hands
now I'm warming the cup.
In my ancient, second-hand mind,
a look out the window is most fulfilling.
The clouds, birds and their song
were never this beautiful.
...
now I feel it, I hear its footsteps
slowly walking up and down the hallways.
Do I just sit here scared and wait for it?
Or meet him in the hallways and
look him in his hollow eyes?
I wish I had the time to choose.
This tea's been in my hand
for almost an hour now, untouched.
It's purpose was to warm my hands
now I'm warming the cup.
In my ancient, second-hand mind,
a look out the window is most fulfilling.
The clouds, birds and their song
were never this beautiful.
...
713 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
26th Apr 2012 5:50pm
26th Apr 2012 5:50pm
Skin deep
She rises with the sun, and stretches like clouds,
but the sky is an unblemished blue.
She stands with the sycamores then
walks with honeysuckle
and the apple tree leans so she mustn't
offering its most mouth watering.
Beauty is always drawn to her
for she cannot be rivalled;
winds don't intrude, they double back
and choose another path.
The day sets sail around the sphere
like a boat in a bottle hovering on strings.
The stars appear, then disperse and
reappear from the thin, puce clouds.
She looks at the stars with...
but the sky is an unblemished blue.
She stands with the sycamores then
walks with honeysuckle
and the apple tree leans so she mustn't
offering its most mouth watering.
Beauty is always drawn to her
for she cannot be rivalled;
winds don't intrude, they double back
and choose another path.
The day sets sail around the sphere
like a boat in a bottle hovering on strings.
The stars appear, then disperse and
reappear from the thin, puce clouds.
She looks at the stars with...
607 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
25th Apr 2012 11:25am
25th Apr 2012 11:25am
Under Wings
Such fragility shouldn't be exposed
without guidance and reassurance.
I enfold you in my arms tightly, and absorb
every delicate cell of your physical existence:
Feel the pound of my bloody pump
and flood me through your gentle arteries.
I'll wear your scars and dry your tears
as you nestle in my skin.
Sit inside my loving fortress while I secure your soul,
and in the safety within me you'll play with the world;
pushing and prodding, however you please,
fearlessly.
without guidance and reassurance.
I enfold you in my arms tightly, and absorb
every delicate cell of your physical existence:
Feel the pound of my bloody pump
and flood me through your gentle arteries.
I'll wear your scars and dry your tears
as you nestle in my skin.
Sit inside my loving fortress while I secure your soul,
and in the safety within me you'll play with the world;
pushing and prodding, however you please,
fearlessly.
846 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
24th Apr 2012 4:01pm
24th Apr 2012 4:01pm
Not for the old
With schedules tightening around their necks;
bus drivers with a welded foot are losing races.
There's no time and no place for the old.
They're herded by masters that lack compassion;
a word that has no place in this public ant farm.
bus drivers with a welded foot are losing races.
There's no time and no place for the old.
They're herded by masters that lack compassion;
a word that has no place in this public ant farm.
632 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
