Submissions by Mundus
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
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
174 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
169 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
172 reads
3 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
171 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
158 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
292 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
229 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
280 reads
7 Comments
Plagued
Eyes like broken windows
stare into oblivion,
the milky smoke of absence
rises up to lonely lips
of snow and ash
birthing a lullaby
caught in time,
festooned with
terminal sadness,
the frozen lament
of who I once was
now buried beneath
glassy tears
until death
will wake me.
stare into oblivion,
the milky smoke of absence
rises up to lonely lips
of snow and ash
birthing a lullaby
caught in time,
festooned with
terminal sadness,
the frozen lament
of who I once was
now buried beneath
glassy tears
until death
will wake me.
#sadness
#dark
#frustration
#despair
#boredom
207 reads
0 Comments
No Life, No Life
Everything seems to be
charred sky or suicide sun,
unmistakable,
inescapable,
either that or some kind
of nondescript peace,
bloodless,
lifeless,
no pulse in it at all.
The blade runs
back and forth
across my brain
or it is consumed
by empty laughter,
the same music,
the same food
day in, day out.
Whether a million
hands pull at
my consciousness
or the landscape
drowns into
the tasteless cream
of sleep, all I do
is throw my hands up
and ask: why, oh, why?
charred sky or suicide sun,
unmistakable,
inescapable,
either that or some kind
of nondescript peace,
bloodless,
lifeless,
no pulse in it at all.
The blade runs
back and forth
across my brain
or it is consumed
by empty laughter,
the same music,
the same food
day in, day out.
Whether a million
hands pull at
my consciousness
or the landscape
drowns into
the tasteless cream
of sleep, all I do
is throw my hands up
and ask: why, oh, why?
#sadness
#anxiety
#loneliness
#frustration
#emptiness
205 reads
2 Comments
The Night Holds Its Breath
The night holds its breath
as love, lust and fear dance
with the jester of my dreams
as he plays his silver flute
to make diamonds bloom,
to flood the sky with milk,
to awaken the icy butterfly
that rests upon your lips
like a lock upon a white door.
Will you grant me the key
to the slowly-forming city of dawn?
Will you compose the word
that births the rainfall of roses?
The night holds its breath
as I pray for the secret sound
from which the gold of life flows.
as love, lust and fear dance
with the jester of my dreams
as he plays his silver flute
to make diamonds bloom,
to flood the sky with milk,
to awaken the icy butterfly
that rests upon your lips
like a lock upon a white door.
Will you grant me the key
to the slowly-forming city of dawn?
Will you compose the word
that births the rainfall of roses?
The night holds its breath
as I pray for the secret sound
from which the gold of life flows.
#love
#lust
#hope
#courage
#emotions
400 reads
3 Comments
I'll See Myself Out
#sadness
#dark
#confusion
#despair
#emptiness
262 reads
0 Comments
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