Submissions by Mundus
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Golden Cloud Boy
my life in bello monte wasn't easy
I was no golden cloud boy
showering confetti on everybody
the streets were old and cracked
cigarette butts and trash everywhere
still we played baseball and soccer
as if our lives depended on it
nintendo afternoons and coca-cola
kicks to the shins and spit on my face
it was a big merry-go-round
of magic and misery
the 90's were a cake
laced with strychnine
still, I miss it all
maybe I was happy
and never knew it
maybe after all
I was a golden...
I was no golden cloud boy
showering confetti on everybody
the streets were old and cracked
cigarette butts and trash everywhere
still we played baseball and soccer
as if our lives depended on it
nintendo afternoons and coca-cola
kicks to the shins and spit on my face
it was a big merry-go-round
of magic and misery
the 90's were a cake
laced with strychnine
still, I miss it all
maybe I was happy
and never knew it
maybe after all
I was a golden...
#sadness
#memories
#TimeHeals #nostalgia
#TimeHeals #nostalgia
94 reads
6 Comments
Dreams On The Vine
So many dreams hang
on this weary vine,
so many worlds await
the touch of discovery.
They struggle and shiver through
winter's leaden whispers,
they glow, burnt by
a diamond tip of light
in the summertime.
Tears flow, though,
when these battered hands
can't reach them
as they recede into
an unfeeling sky,
fruits turned into birds.
on this weary vine,
so many worlds await
the touch of discovery.
They struggle and shiver through
winter's leaden whispers,
they glow, burnt by
a diamond tip of light
in the summertime.
Tears flow, though,
when these battered hands
can't reach them
as they recede into
an unfeeling sky,
fruits turned into birds.
#sadness
#loneliness
#heartbroken
#disappointment
#emptiness
74 reads
4 Comments
Perception Deception
What flows into my eyes
is but a hypothesis,
an unreliable blueprint.
Truth could be a rabbit,
always urging me to follow it
down a hole of possibilities.
All I have is a rainbow,
seven rays of infinity:
"there could be more",
four words that light
the spark of hunger.
is but a hypothesis,
an unreliable blueprint.
Truth could be a rabbit,
always urging me to follow it
down a hole of possibilities.
All I have is a rainbow,
seven rays of infinity:
"there could be more",
four words that light
the spark of hunger.
#earth
#universe
#philosophical
80 reads
1 Comment
Fraying Rope
After all these years,
you're still there,
crawling among memories
of your childhood
in the basement of life.
So much of you is gone,
so much of you is dust,
yet, you still ask
for a blanket, a kiss,
s bedtime story,
so I light another cigarette,
eat another sandwich
but it's never enough:
your tears keep burning me,
your cries keep tearing me apart
to sad little stripes
until gluing myself back together
becomes almost impossible,
yet, I'm still here.
This fraying rope of a man ...
you're still there,
crawling among memories
of your childhood
in the basement of life.
So much of you is gone,
so much of you is dust,
yet, you still ask
for a blanket, a kiss,
s bedtime story,
so I light another cigarette,
eat another sandwich
but it's never enough:
your tears keep burning me,
your cries keep tearing me apart
to sad little stripes
until gluing myself back together
becomes almost impossible,
yet, I'm still here.
This fraying rope of a man ...
#motivational
#TimeHeals
#frustration
#redemption
#bittersweet
73 reads
2 Comments
Bukowski And The Rain
Sometimes,
you find some relief
in reading Bukowski
while listening
to the simple music of rain,
how it keeps falling
unmanned, purposeless,
and yes, the years still
stab you in the dark
and no amount of cake
will sweeten the pain
of waking up again
wondering how the hell
are the others able
to stand still while
the world spins
like a mad dervish
but, for now,
the rain will do
and so will Bukowski.
you find some relief
in reading Bukowski
while listening
to the simple music of rain,
how it keeps falling
unmanned, purposeless,
and yes, the years still
stab you in the dark
and no amount of cake
will sweeten the pain
of waking up again
wondering how the hell
are the others able
to stand still while
the world spins
like a mad dervish
but, for now,
the rain will do
and so will Bukowski.
#sadness
#hope
#dark #inspirational
#dark #inspirational
96 reads
5 Comments
The Diamond
I need to pause, to look
at this diamond of a moment;
then, I will step inside
the warm core beneath
its tough skin.
There, light doesn't blind
but soothe the dulled eye,
the breathless mind
caught in a broken dance.
That's when I'll become free;
the diamond itself.
at this diamond of a moment;
then, I will step inside
the warm core beneath
its tough skin.
There, light doesn't blind
but soothe the dulled eye,
the breathless mind
caught in a broken dance.
That's when I'll become free;
the diamond itself.
#spiritual
#philosophical
90 reads
2 Comments
In Another Castle
Leading Mario through landscapes
of pixelated woods, water and fire,
we'd feel the hours disappear
in a haze of sunset pink-orange.
We never knew it wouldn't last:
8 bit colors weren't enough
to keep our own private Bowser away
from our tiny, frail kingdom of happiness.
Darkness was coming:
days and nights of newborn screams,
curses and tears hurled at ourselves and God;
our world reduced to a diorama of lava and ash.
Many times I've looked at my parents,
mostly nervously, silently,
many times I've thought: we're the...
of pixelated woods, water and fire,
we'd feel the hours disappear
in a haze of sunset pink-orange.
We never knew it wouldn't last:
8 bit colors weren't enough
to keep our own private Bowser away
from our tiny, frail kingdom of happiness.
Darkness was coming:
days and nights of newborn screams,
curses and tears hurled at ourselves and God;
our world reduced to a diorama of lava and ash.
Many times I've looked at my parents,
mostly nervously, silently,
many times I've thought: we're the...
#sadness
#conflict
#escape #disappointment
#escape #disappointment
98 reads
2 Comments
Ingratitude
I see you, mom, as you leave
a trace of yourself
on everything you touch:
the shallow glasses my sister
keeps filling up with Coke,
the doorknob that sends you
into a world of supermarkets,
pharmacies and banks,
the bright screen that passes
for a friend from Monday morning
to Sunday evening.
You leave a trace of yourself
on everything, on everyone,
yet, who gives back to you?
What's the reward for the years
that fall behind you
as you work your sad magic?
People and things
remain cold to your touch, ...
a trace of yourself
on everything you touch:
the shallow glasses my sister
keeps filling up with Coke,
the doorknob that sends you
into a world of supermarkets,
pharmacies and banks,
the bright screen that passes
for a friend from Monday morning
to Sunday evening.
You leave a trace of yourself
on everything, on everyone,
yet, who gives back to you?
What's the reward for the years
that fall behind you
as you work your sad magic?
People and things
remain cold to your touch, ...
#mother
#parent
#motherhood
#son
#responsibility
96 reads
1 Comment
Oneiros
A slippery mirror
upon which
the eye slides
as chameleon fantasies
bloom like children,
joining every theory
in a tapestry of dirt,
a shallow imitation
of meaning;
casting countless lives
like dandelion seeds
in a void that sings
of identities colliding,
refracting in a din
of opposite rainbows:
the mind chiseled
by the translucent hands
of sleep.
upon which
the eye slides
as chameleon fantasies
bloom like children,
joining every theory
in a tapestry of dirt,
a shallow imitation
of meaning;
casting countless lives
like dandelion seeds
in a void that sings
of identities colliding,
refracting in a din
of opposite rainbows:
the mind chiseled
by the translucent hands
of sleep.
#dreams
#night
#sleep
89 reads
2 Comments
Deliverance
The desire to survive,
in a landscape strewn
with rocks and weeds,
grows weaker and weaker
with each waning moon,
every time less able
to revive what little light
I might still dream of.
Thus, the tiger that follows me
to the edge of the night
looks like a friend,
eyes gleaming with promise,
teeth as soft as deliverance.
in a landscape strewn
with rocks and weeds,
grows weaker and weaker
with each waning moon,
every time less able
to revive what little light
I might still dream of.
Thus, the tiger that follows me
to the edge of the night
looks like a friend,
eyes gleaming with promise,
teeth as soft as deliverance.
#sadness
#loneliness
#dark
#despair
#boredom
189 reads
10 Comments
The Night
One day, the candle will go out;
I will stand in the dark
groping for the key to the sun,
gathering only dust.
That day, my breath will be useless,
another absurd gesture,
a habit to quit.
You will leave me, mother,
and I will only have eyes for the night.
I will stand in the dark
groping for the key to the sun,
gathering only dust.
That day, my breath will be useless,
another absurd gesture,
a habit to quit.
You will leave me, mother,
and I will only have eyes for the night.
#anxiety
#grief
#loneliness
#mother
#fear
157 reads
2 Comments
Flesh of a Bully
Pour my feelings
onto the frying pan,
prepare the lights
for another show
of disrespect;
don't worry about me,
I'll play the lamb
before the wolf
lurking in your soul.
Throw boiling sand
in the face of courtesy,
slash my tires,
rig this race,
but don't mind me,
I'll just clean up
the blood and shit
after your parade.
Yet, one day
the black sheep
will become
a white lion,
prey upon the fear
buried beneath
your arrogance.
I'll be hungry ...
onto the frying pan,
prepare the lights
for another show
of disrespect;
don't worry about me,
I'll play the lamb
before the wolf
lurking in your soul.
Throw boiling sand
in the face of courtesy,
slash my tires,
rig this race,
but don't mind me,
I'll just clean up
the blood and shit
after your parade.
Yet, one day
the black sheep
will become
a white lion,
prey upon the fear
buried beneath
your arrogance.
I'll be hungry ...
#anger
#hate
#dark
#shame
#frustration
230 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Mundus