Submissions by Mundus
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Clocks And Calendars
Crumbling cathedrals
of emotion and thought,
faintly glowing
in the ever-widening
expanse of the years;
I choose to dwell here,
in the twilight
of clocks and calendars,
where only ghosts
glide through the emptiness
of days gone by.
Colors vanish,
everything's painted
a dim shade of blue
in the mist
of half-forgotten scenes
that clouds my eyes,
blinding them
to the beckoning light
of the future.
of emotion and thought,
faintly glowing
in the ever-widening
expanse of the years;
I choose to dwell here,
in the twilight
of clocks and calendars,
where only ghosts
glide through the emptiness
of days gone by.
Colors vanish,
everything's painted
a dim shade of blue
in the mist
of half-forgotten scenes
that clouds my eyes,
blinding them
to the beckoning light
of the future.
#loneliness
#memories
#emptiness
396 reads
2 Comments
This Lunar Twilight
Let the evening pass
through rings of fire,
let our worlds
intertwine
in a kaleidoscope
of delirium,
the pulse of
our conjoined minds
giving birth
to liquid stars
flowing through
this lunar twilight.
through rings of fire,
let our worlds
intertwine
in a kaleidoscope
of delirium,
the pulse of
our conjoined minds
giving birth
to liquid stars
flowing through
this lunar twilight.
#lust
#erotic
#lover
#sensual
#orgasm
569 reads
5 Comments
Every Day
Every day spreads
like a spiteful spiral,
malignant, ungrateful,
moored to murky dreams
drenched in bitter dew.
I watch the sun swim
like a saint, pristine,
yet pitilessly practical
while I'm caught
'tween smoke rings
and glassy things
that keep on breaking,
like branches or bread,
only fruitless,
tasteless.
Thus,
after the diaphanous daze
of daily dementia,
the moon comes
like a cooing dove
or a milky pillow,
placating the pulse
of existence,
expurgating
the spiny whispers ...
like a spiteful spiral,
malignant, ungrateful,
moored to murky dreams
drenched in bitter dew.
I watch the sun swim
like a saint, pristine,
yet pitilessly practical
while I'm caught
'tween smoke rings
and glassy things
that keep on breaking,
like branches or bread,
only fruitless,
tasteless.
Thus,
after the diaphanous daze
of daily dementia,
the moon comes
like a cooing dove
or a milky pillow,
placating the pulse
of existence,
expurgating
the spiny whispers ...
#sadness
#hope
#frustration
#redemption
#emptiness
379 reads
2 Comments
A Particle of Happiness
When your image
runs through my mind
like a golden train,
the wavelenght of desire
gives birth
to rainbows unseen,
reality morphs
into a butterfly.
A simple thought
and I'm cast
into the wind
like a particle
of happiness,
no longer bound
to the neurosis
of cold inertia.
Now, the stars
are in tune
with your rhythm,
the moon
is a picture
of delight,
dripping
with the honey
of infinity.
runs through my mind
like a golden train,
the wavelenght of desire
gives birth
to rainbows unseen,
reality morphs
into a butterfly.
A simple thought
and I'm cast
into the wind
like a particle
of happiness,
no longer bound
to the neurosis
of cold inertia.
Now, the stars
are in tune
with your rhythm,
the moon
is a picture
of delight,
dripping
with the honey
of infinity.
#happiness
#love
#strength
#hope
#emotions
377 reads
8 Comments
The Weeping Child
A shroud of clouds
obscures her colors
while a mute melody
plays in her mind,
clouds of time
converging to conceal
truth from her eyes,
her last shelter
frozen in fright.
Thus, an unseen mouth
convinces her
to drown in the ocean
of shadows
beyond the border
of reality,
where no hand
can reach
the weeping child
inside.
obscures her colors
while a mute melody
plays in her mind,
clouds of time
converging to conceal
truth from her eyes,
her last shelter
frozen in fright.
Thus, an unseen mouth
convinces her
to drown in the ocean
of shadows
beyond the border
of reality,
where no hand
can reach
the weeping child
inside.
#sadness
#dark
#heartbroken
#emptiness
#apathy
423 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Mundus