Submissions by Orc_Pirate_68 (Sabrina Kirk-Caldwell)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction I write poetry on many topics, but my favorite topics are Love (particularly age-gap, and age-gap between human and humanoid mythical creatures), high seas piracy, Paganism, morbidity, and my emotions.
Upon all my things, The unseen warnings, I have drawn these symbols, As subtle and silent reminders of the evils, The harbinger of the omens, Of the actions, Of the path that I have chose, But to no one, will disclose.
During the day, one face, I show, true, During the night, another face too, During the day, happy, and jolly, At night, selfish, sadistic, torturesome, folly, Few would I ever smarm, No one I love, or any animals, would I harm, Just the few on my list, That I would promptly pound to a bloody pulp...
Been going through emotions like crazy, Leaving my days hazy, From waves, to sprinkles of feelings over moods, To whole time periods of moods.
From anger, to melancholy, to love, to wonder, And I wonder, And think about you every day, Do you think of me?
Sometimes, it feels as if you do think of me, Especially at night, As if, after a long day, longing for a night, Of peaceful slumber, When the world, and all your worries melt away, you remember, The night, vedelecet, May 4th, of 2018, when we met, And the...
There she swings, an empty hulk, not a soul below now, Number seven starboard mess misses Jack and Joe now." Echoed from the ghosts on the sea floor, Walking through the wreckage of a ship now, nevermore.
Once the mightiest of sea vessels, And partook in the mightiest of sea battles, But now overrun with barnacles, seaweed, and kelp, And plundered by merfolk, a ship beyond help.
Amongst the rotting wood, half buried in the sand, Glimmers a doubloon, from a treasure once grand, Caught by a rare ray of sunlight, That...
The smile you used to know, is gone for a while, During all this relentless toil, Though I feel dead inside, Deep within, the spark, I know, still resides, Although it hides, For it is tired, and weak, And waiting for the right time to speak.
Day in and day out, My shell grows weaker, gets knocked about, My eyes have gone lifeless and dark, The faint glow of the spark, Of my soul, can still be seen, Only if one does tediously glean, And looks long, and deep, Studying, searching, my eyes that do weep.
Drowning in a sea of dryness, Yearning for that next breath, Sinking, sinking, into the dark blackness, Pursy, a niente of pacifist and scortched earth. Necrosis by the megadeath, Elegiac, speechless, cries, Air hunger, overpowereth.
Heretofore, I wished for a spiritual experience like in the talkies, I had them but nary did I notice. Not meet, or realistic, I guess, Natheless, I wanted an epiphany, and/or physical, visual, experience, But I have heretofore learned, every painful experience, Is forsooth, my spiritual experience. The gods, providing obstacles, As miracles, To teach me what I need to learn.
I threw the book into the flames to watch it burn, Full of scorn. The pages did curl, Before burning, the book made me want to hurl. I had no other option. I prodded it with the iron, To make sure it was consumed, By the flames, it was illumed. The fire grew, and an ember hit the carpet, and it began to consume, I jumped up in fright, This is not right, The flame bacame a fire whirl! Within the flames, I was sure I saw the silhouette of a girl.
I ran to the stairs... We don't have stairs... ...Nothing but a...