Submissions by Nirvana_ophelia
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Manson
Sun sets, Ra on tired windows.
A newscast about your death,
like a Charles Manson cult at a
magazine cover. A laundrymat,
where you sit and wait for the laundry,
at the grey moments of life. Grey pigeons on the
windowpane, picking for dust and seeds.
Son of Sam and I dine, moms fall
into the sunday laundry. A naked woman
in a white room, whose body dances in the fullmoons
light, smokes thoughts and the thoughts go to the roof
as spirits. She left her home playing a flute,
listening to Beatles the white album.
In cubic, this woman, with...
A newscast about your death,
like a Charles Manson cult at a
magazine cover. A laundrymat,
where you sit and wait for the laundry,
at the grey moments of life. Grey pigeons on the
windowpane, picking for dust and seeds.
Son of Sam and I dine, moms fall
into the sunday laundry. A naked woman
in a white room, whose body dances in the fullmoons
light, smokes thoughts and the thoughts go to the roof
as spirits. She left her home playing a flute,
listening to Beatles the white album.
In cubic, this woman, with...
525 reads
0 Comments
Beautiful
A single tear
falls down her cheeks
in the cold landscape
that is her spring
lilies grow
sheīs an angel
a fae
her white wings soar
gently warm and tender
her long white hair
falls down her sides
sheīs a beauty
her lips red as blood
her eyes two lavender flowers
or lilacs. Her smile, her
laughter like tinkling glasses.
A supernatural being, a elvish
queen. Her heart is a lily,
her skin like alabaster.
The moon a crescent made of
glass, and with flowers inside.
She has a white robe on,
and a crown.
falls down her cheeks
in the cold landscape
that is her spring
lilies grow
sheīs an angel
a fae
her white wings soar
gently warm and tender
her long white hair
falls down her sides
sheīs a beauty
her lips red as blood
her eyes two lavender flowers
or lilacs. Her smile, her
laughter like tinkling glasses.
A supernatural being, a elvish
queen. Her heart is a lily,
her skin like alabaster.
The moon a crescent made of
glass, and with flowers inside.
She has a white robe on,
and a crown.
501 reads
0 Comments
Ugly
I feel ugly
dumb, idiotic
grisly and
wicked. Like I canīt
help and canīt fix anyone
least of all myself.
Iīve had enough.
Giggles, stares and
pointing me out downtown.
Laughters. Abandonement
and girly tears, sad soul
about to perish.
Reacbing out towards
the other side,
looking at the life fighting,
smiling and taking the big step
into the nothing.
dumb, idiotic
grisly and
wicked. Like I canīt
help and canīt fix anyone
least of all myself.
Iīve had enough.
Giggles, stares and
pointing me out downtown.
Laughters. Abandonement
and girly tears, sad soul
about to perish.
Reacbing out towards
the other side,
looking at the life fighting,
smiling and taking the big step
into the nothing.
560 reads
0 Comments
Little women
All the bees and the flowers, farewell, the faeries fly around, and in pleasant satisfaction they write plays and words flew around them and Louisa wrote Little women all alone in the cottage. Crouched together they acted in plays and stomped like elephants. Little women, sisters and another an actress. And another died of yellow fever, Beth. Her faerielike dreams, please open the window she said. Hair lost, foggy and pale and lost. Sick and gone. It was sweet watching her enter paradise. To see her was to love her. Stars fade one after one and moonlight fades from flower and rose. Unseen by...
490 reads
0 Comments
Origami
Origami
sweet sedative leafs
of marijuana
paperbirds
in your hand
at the windowsill
hanging unseen at
the window.
Yellow, blue,
red...
the girl plucks them
clean of bones,
their tiny veins
and tiny hearts thumping
like candy, like sweet
numbing cataracts of
gold. Flying, dead,
still and silent...
the girl has dark hair
and blue eyes,
soaring above heavens
and daydreams of the
origami birds to sail across
the sky. Her heart is made
of yello and candy
and her eyes are...
sweet sedative leafs
of marijuana
paperbirds
in your hand
at the windowsill
hanging unseen at
the window.
Yellow, blue,
red...
the girl plucks them
clean of bones,
their tiny veins
and tiny hearts thumping
like candy, like sweet
numbing cataracts of
gold. Flying, dead,
still and silent...
the girl has dark hair
and blue eyes,
soaring above heavens
and daydreams of the
origami birds to sail across
the sky. Her heart is made
of yello and candy
and her eyes are...
536 reads
1 Comment
Ghost
Ghosts hide in the room
as orbs, as mist or shapes
as voices, disembodied
or floating, whispering
secrets to the living.
Ghostchildren play
hide and seek, (out the door
the harmless phantom glides,)
trying to make contact with the
living, through seances, through
spiritboards. We must listen, to them
crying, talking, screaming. Children,
dead, play with toys, floating in midair.
Still the victorian ghostly mother rocks her
dead stillborn babe, and dead lovers are embraced
from hereafter. Ghosts crowd the house, the...
as orbs, as mist or shapes
as voices, disembodied
or floating, whispering
secrets to the living.
Ghostchildren play
hide and seek, (out the door
the harmless phantom glides,)
trying to make contact with the
living, through seances, through
spiritboards. We must listen, to them
crying, talking, screaming. Children,
dead, play with toys, floating in midair.
Still the victorian ghostly mother rocks her
dead stillborn babe, and dead lovers are embraced
from hereafter. Ghosts crowd the house, the...
591 reads
1 Comment
Hyacinthe
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The hyacinths and
the jasmine trees stood
in the way of the moon.
Looking overhead, you could see
wildgeese making their way over the sky.
The house stood itīs ground, and the
girl inside it, could not wait to see
the cheese moon flying about on the sky.
Lavenderscent and ambrosia, roses immortal
and water and grass, dewkissed, June night!
Her hair was tousled, and her watergrass lips
still unkissed, and her starry kiss balm eyes
were looking at father moon and stars,...
The hyacinths and
the jasmine trees stood
in the way of the moon.
Looking overhead, you could see
wildgeese making their way over the sky.
The house stood itīs ground, and the
girl inside it, could not wait to see
the cheese moon flying about on the sky.
Lavenderscent and ambrosia, roses immortal
and water and grass, dewkissed, June night!
Her hair was tousled, and her watergrass lips
still unkissed, and her starry kiss balm eyes
were looking at father moon and stars,...
579 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by Nirvana_ophelia
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