Submissions by NormalGnome
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Poetry for me is a little joke project that I wok on if the mood strikes me, so don't suspect anything with real thought or frequency out of me. Almost all of my poems are witty dick jokes expect for the ones that aren't.
SELF POEM
Published
14th May 2012 2:17am
14th May 2012 2:17am
Fart Jokes: A Love Story (Part 1)
I hate Walt Whitman, but I take what he has sown
Free form is like a women dancing with a python
It can only end two ways ,one
The movements of the women and the snake come together
to create a hypnotizing display of beauty and thrills
each playing off the others twists and dips
their bodies come together as one ,the face of god is seen.
or
The snake bites her right in the tit
either way I'm going to masturbate to it
Covered in several layers of shame glaze
I feel like an under cooked Thanks Giving Ham
Wait... what was I talking...
Free form is like a women dancing with a python
It can only end two ways ,one
The movements of the women and the snake come together
to create a hypnotizing display of beauty and thrills
each playing off the others twists and dips
their bodies come together as one ,the face of god is seen.
or
The snake bites her right in the tit
either way I'm going to masturbate to it
Covered in several layers of shame glaze
I feel like an under cooked Thanks Giving Ham
Wait... what was I talking...
738 reads
3 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
18th Jan 2012 1:04am
18th Jan 2012 1:04am
Life lessons from the Walrus Take 1
When you start a story, the first thing they tell you is not to have your character wake up, from sleep, from a coma, not from shit.
They tell you that not because it gives cancer to orphans, not because it can give you a blood clot, but because it is overused and stagnant.
Like a dead hooker who had just been stumbled over by that roving, well endowed pack of necrophiliacs, it has been raped, killed and raped some more.
At this point if you have to start off with the poor fuck who is being forced into the position as the main imaginary being into the twisted, piece of fuck...
They tell you that not because it gives cancer to orphans, not because it can give you a blood clot, but because it is overused and stagnant.
Like a dead hooker who had just been stumbled over by that roving, well endowed pack of necrophiliacs, it has been raped, killed and raped some more.
At this point if you have to start off with the poor fuck who is being forced into the position as the main imaginary being into the twisted, piece of fuck...
823 reads
0 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
12th Aug 2011 2:16am
12th Aug 2011 2:16am
I need my medicine!
I go to the doctor twice a day
In the morning and at night
To find a cure form my illness
But every time I come
The same medicine I take
At the moment it flows
Euphoria fills me as I imagine myself
Laughing, running, and without my terrible addiction
But sadly it turns out
That Dr. Pepper's credentials
Are shaky at best
In the morning and at night
To find a cure form my illness
But every time I come
The same medicine I take
At the moment it flows
Euphoria fills me as I imagine myself
Laughing, running, and without my terrible addiction
But sadly it turns out
That Dr. Pepper's credentials
Are shaky at best
823 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
12th Aug 2011 1:49am
12th Aug 2011 1:49am
Playing God with the Godless
I am a shell of an artist
Short bursts of creativity and mirth
Swallowed by violent rampages across a landscape once full of life
So quickly my spirits turn
When playing god doesn't go my way
A sick satisfaction in knowing what I've done
Endless monotony and terror is all my people know from my wrath
My slaves executing others at my demand
Suicide is the highest form of tribute for a pawn
I love playing "The Sims"
Short bursts of creativity and mirth
Swallowed by violent rampages across a landscape once full of life
So quickly my spirits turn
When playing god doesn't go my way
A sick satisfaction in knowing what I've done
Endless monotony and terror is all my people know from my wrath
My slaves executing others at my demand
Suicide is the highest form of tribute for a pawn
I love playing "The Sims"
816 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Aug 2011 3:38am
8th Aug 2011 3:38am
The Truth (book 3 ,chapter 8 ,section 14 ,paragraph 9)
You are different
But only enough to make you an outcast
You are misunderstood
But only because you are difficult
You are lonely
But only because you close yourself off
You are angry
But not enough to make a difference (your wrists may disagree)
You are dark
But only because the sun is foreign to you
You are you
And FUCK You
But only enough to make you an outcast
You are misunderstood
But only because you are difficult
You are lonely
But only because you close yourself off
You are angry
But not enough to make a difference (your wrists may disagree)
You are dark
But only because the sun is foreign to you
You are you
And FUCK You
806 reads
1 Comment
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
2nd Aug 2011 5:53am
2nd Aug 2011 5:53am
I don't remember writing this
Fuck, it’s been so long now. I don’t remember the last time I had time to sit down, that or write. I don’t even know if I still can, but the words still flow out of my pen as smoothly as the varnished wooden top of this desk. I don’t know why I’m even doing this. No one will read it and even if some ones does then to their naive eyes it will be a jumble of meaningless words and stories. Experiences of someone else in a different time. Someone who doesn’t matter, who never mattered, and who will never matter. I am less than a speck on the infinite plane of the universe. Neither I nor anyone...
885 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
1st Aug 2011 6:47am
1st Aug 2011 6:47am
Not too good at the whole "Life" thing
If I had dreams, I forgot them
If I had friends, I ignored them
If I had promises I broke them
If I had hopes, I crushed them
If I had babies, I ate them
If I had friends, I ignored them
If I had promises I broke them
If I had hopes, I crushed them
If I had babies, I ate them
880 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Aug 2011 6:31am
1st Aug 2011 6:31am
Wasted Love
I pour my love onto you
Hot with lust and want
Feeling flowing through me
Stains of passion my proof of devotion
But you reject me
A invisible barrier between us both
My love going to waste
Your scorn forever present
Nothing but rejection and a mess left of my affection
I guess a Hot Carl is not for you
Hot with lust and want
Feeling flowing through me
Stains of passion my proof of devotion
But you reject me
A invisible barrier between us both
My love going to waste
Your scorn forever present
Nothing but rejection and a mess left of my affection
I guess a Hot Carl is not for you
1297 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
31st Jul 2011 7:24am
31st Jul 2011 7:24am
The glow of complacence
I am here as I have been before
The rut accepting me as an equal
The cold glow of content dying my skin
My indifference a force of strength
Overpowering all else
A rush of anger, I stand up and scream
Then sigh and go back to minecraft
The rut accepting me as an equal
The cold glow of content dying my skin
My indifference a force of strength
Overpowering all else
A rush of anger, I stand up and scream
Then sigh and go back to minecraft
691 reads
3 Comments
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