Submissions by Scribbler12
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words. -Robert Frost
DRUGS POEM
Published
23rd Apr 2013 9:52pm
23rd Apr 2013 9:52pm
Brought to light
Eyes stapled to the wall, blots of colour sheen over
my focus in a bitter display of mechanical philosophies.
Questions revive in the springtime, enveloped in dust.
The hollow hunt for answers grinds to life once more,
rusted cogs pressured into movement by obligation.
Mind whirling into paradoxes, I struggle with tangled
webs of knotted threads that squirm in their hast
to be set free. Each one leads to understanding.
Sleep is both a curse and a blessing,
neon bolts through my veins.
Lips tremble...
my focus in a bitter display of mechanical philosophies.
Questions revive in the springtime, enveloped in dust.
The hollow hunt for answers grinds to life once more,
rusted cogs pressured into movement by obligation.
Mind whirling into paradoxes, I struggle with tangled
webs of knotted threads that squirm in their hast
to be set free. Each one leads to understanding.
Sleep is both a curse and a blessing,
neon bolts through my veins.
Lips tremble...
1166 reads
30 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
20th Apr 2013 6:52pm
20th Apr 2013 6:52pm
The changing winds
Keeling over the kitchen sink -mouth open comically wide-
my stomach tries to unearth rival organs: if only it had weed killer.
The walls are sweating, heaving out orders for nine, nine, nine;
whilst the carpet laments “Six, six six. You’d better be prepared
because nothing’s going to be the same after this. Six, six, six.”
The skyline wavers with the changing winds,
candle light holding secrets in-between
the expectations I held for myself.
I held them too high.
I’m older now, seconds holding...
my stomach tries to unearth rival organs: if only it had weed killer.
The walls are sweating, heaving out orders for nine, nine, nine;
whilst the carpet laments “Six, six six. You’d better be prepared
because nothing’s going to be the same after this. Six, six, six.”
The skyline wavers with the changing winds,
candle light holding secrets in-between
the expectations I held for myself.
I held them too high.
I’m older now, seconds holding...
976 reads
26 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
17th Apr 2013 7:47pm
17th Apr 2013 7:47pm
Running for the hills
I imprisoned each forbidden urge in airtight glass jars;
the mist surging over the hills, slipping masquerade
masks over hotblooded veins of wild fire.
The panic strikes with a fist to the stomach,
butterflies reawakening into hectic convulsions.
Thunderclaps applaud feet that flee and victims that hide.
We're sprinting the trail where immortals wish
for mortality drenched with overflowing adrenaline,
blood pulsing out a prediction of death in
weak-toned Morse code.
The hearts desire is engraved into our...
the mist surging over the hills, slipping masquerade
masks over hotblooded veins of wild fire.
The panic strikes with a fist to the stomach,
butterflies reawakening into hectic convulsions.
Thunderclaps applaud feet that flee and victims that hide.
We're sprinting the trail where immortals wish
for mortality drenched with overflowing adrenaline,
blood pulsing out a prediction of death in
weak-toned Morse code.
The hearts desire is engraved into our...
935 reads
24 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Apr 2013 8:53pm
12th Apr 2013 8:53pm
Dust
Coffee tables soaked up the sun-shine memories
that we left behind in our hast to move forward,
your smile as bright as the moon on a cloudless night.
Meadows of stars swayed to diverse mystical complexities
of the universe, dust settling with a shift
in fates fragile dynamics.
Darting around oblivion, succumbing to the sirens
never-ending call, you were fading with the strain
of everyday; skin paper thin, eyes holding the
weight of the world.
You departed with minimal fuss, a chasm in your...
that we left behind in our hast to move forward,
your smile as bright as the moon on a cloudless night.
Meadows of stars swayed to diverse mystical complexities
of the universe, dust settling with a shift
in fates fragile dynamics.
Darting around oblivion, succumbing to the sirens
never-ending call, you were fading with the strain
of everyday; skin paper thin, eyes holding the
weight of the world.
You departed with minimal fuss, a chasm in your...
871 reads
27 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
9th Apr 2013 10:21pm
9th Apr 2013 10:21pm
Looking glass
The moon cremates darkness in a contrasting
urgency below the looking glass, the sun rising
sallow with sunken luminescence and a frenzied
flickering gaze; flowers cower and bow their heads
praying for the danger to dissipate.
Rabbit hearts and the voices of lions meld together
with the wind as it whistles through rustling trees.
Mutterings deepen baritone then rise to a tenor as
tides of conversation flood heavily over my spirit
(I could stay here forever) and then roll out again.
A lion dances;...
urgency below the looking glass, the sun rising
sallow with sunken luminescence and a frenzied
flickering gaze; flowers cower and bow their heads
praying for the danger to dissipate.
Rabbit hearts and the voices of lions meld together
with the wind as it whistles through rustling trees.
Mutterings deepen baritone then rise to a tenor as
tides of conversation flood heavily over my spirit
(I could stay here forever) and then roll out again.
A lion dances;...
975 reads
29 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
6th Apr 2013 1:40pm
6th Apr 2013 1:40pm
Concentric circles and Wasted time.
As the night condenses to litter grass
stems with morning dew, realization dawns
on me (I’m still here, I’m still here).
Rivulets of spilt milk mix with an unnamed
emotion as they meander through the valleys
of my wooden desk, and I wonder if you cut
off my head would there be nothing but
concentric circles which confirm years
of wasted time?
A pen slumps in my defeated ink-splattered hand,
whilst a dozen ideas beg to be formed in the other.
I'm praying for the starting gun to fire permission,
my mind prepared to...
stems with morning dew, realization dawns
on me (I’m still here, I’m still here).
Rivulets of spilt milk mix with an unnamed
emotion as they meander through the valleys
of my wooden desk, and I wonder if you cut
off my head would there be nothing but
concentric circles which confirm years
of wasted time?
A pen slumps in my defeated ink-splattered hand,
whilst a dozen ideas beg to be formed in the other.
I'm praying for the starting gun to fire permission,
my mind prepared to...
902 reads
24 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
2nd Apr 2013 9:36pm
2nd Apr 2013 9:36pm
Eventide
Eventide drains sky-blue watercolours off the
atmospheres worn canvas and into his box of Genesis.
I explore under scatterings of night-lights,
curious footprints marking the end of time.
Earth forces a tempered smile as I
dye the air bright with practiced ease,
imagination held harmless at bay once again.
Meanwhile, the Unknown drill their attack plan
into...
atmospheres worn canvas and into his box of Genesis.
I explore under scatterings of night-lights,
curious footprints marking the end of time.
Earth forces a tempered smile as I
dye the air bright with practiced ease,
imagination held harmless at bay once again.
Meanwhile, the Unknown drill their attack plan
into...
846 reads
26 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Mar 2013 9:46pm
30th Mar 2013 9:46pm
Towards the light
Fate beckons my life towards the light,
veteran eyes flashing with wit as a breathy
whistle of inhalation is drawn sharp.
Broken glass glints jagged beneath my feet,
soft pains settle, gently unworldly.
A cold sweat breaking through.
From somewhere essential I sense hushed pleads,
an urgent pressure straining against my lungs;
electricity flushes the blue from my veins,
leaving a vacancy that fades the light dim.
The light writhes in fits of panic with
intervals of screaming slicing through,
shadows tightening their...
veteran eyes flashing with wit as a breathy
whistle of inhalation is drawn sharp.
Broken glass glints jagged beneath my feet,
soft pains settle, gently unworldly.
A cold sweat breaking through.
From somewhere essential I sense hushed pleads,
an urgent pressure straining against my lungs;
electricity flushes the blue from my veins,
leaving a vacancy that fades the light dim.
The light writhes in fits of panic with
intervals of screaming slicing through,
shadows tightening their...
758 reads
21 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th Mar 2013 8:21pm
26th Mar 2013 8:21pm
The Bets of Seagulls
The ultraviolet spectrum bewitched
my perception supernatural,
allowing me to evade the ethereal
that always followed, wide eyes warning.
Then I was running, eternal galaxies
slipping away behind and in front
of my foreseen footsteps.
Thundering waves invaded the shore,
frothing bloodless rage at the mouth.
Seagulls circled darkening skies,
calling out their bets (Will she jump?).
'Negative thoughts' was played by Suicidal
upon a cerebral broken record.
Rhythmic feet pounded...
my perception supernatural,
allowing me to evade the ethereal
that always followed, wide eyes warning.
Then I was running, eternal galaxies
slipping away behind and in front
of my foreseen footsteps.
Thundering waves invaded the shore,
frothing bloodless rage at the mouth.
Seagulls circled darkening skies,
calling out their bets (Will she jump?).
'Negative thoughts' was played by Suicidal
upon a cerebral broken record.
Rhythmic feet pounded...
828 reads
24 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2013 10:32pm
23rd Mar 2013 10:32pm
Springtime hibernation
I shook off hibernation in the springtime.
Frost finally thawing off my memories
which he encrusted cold and biting,
early-morning dew misting over my vision.
Such a beautiful world they said,
and I believed them.
I found Life buried alive under the debris
that Winter had left nonchalantly in his wake.
Crafting a stretcher out of my shed skin I
carried him to all possible places of help.
Everyone begged had concrete idealist glasses
perched regal on their high-society noses,
sweeping away with a softly cruel dismissal.
Such...
Frost finally thawing off my memories
which he encrusted cold and biting,
early-morning dew misting over my vision.
Such a beautiful world they said,
and I believed them.
I found Life buried alive under the debris
that Winter had left nonchalantly in his wake.
Crafting a stretcher out of my shed skin I
carried him to all possible places of help.
Everyone begged had concrete idealist glasses
perched regal on their high-society noses,
sweeping away with a softly cruel dismissal.
Such...
1098 reads
16 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
21st Mar 2013 8:24pm
21st Mar 2013 8:24pm
Closet thinker
As a closet thinker I hide beneath judgement,
barraged in with toxic thoughts tipped sharp.
I vanquish shadows with a carefully acquired complex,
separating fantasy through logical reality filters.
In the end someone has to do it.
The words I need to scream twine around air with a
silken twirl, infecting my oxygen with depression,
then handing motivation to louder voices in handfuls.
So I delve a little further into enslaving daydreams,
discovering a new leash on life, death,
and the mentally unmapped in-between.
...
barraged in with toxic thoughts tipped sharp.
I vanquish shadows with a carefully acquired complex,
separating fantasy through logical reality filters.
In the end someone has to do it.
The words I need to scream twine around air with a
silken twirl, infecting my oxygen with depression,
then handing motivation to louder voices in handfuls.
So I delve a little further into enslaving daydreams,
discovering a new leash on life, death,
and the mentally unmapped in-between.
...
928 reads
26 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
15th Mar 2013 8:15pm
15th Mar 2013 8:15pm
The Final Page
I gathered up my underestimated armies
of punctuation and chosen letters,
proceeding to turn the heaviest page.
I dot my anticipation with an ellipses...
practicing the secretive art of cliff hanging,
finger tips slipping, slipping, gone.
The final-fatal-page is set unyielding.
It stares adamant minded and thick skinned,
thrumming with seductive enigma temptations.
I feel Cupids thrill through the papyrus,
an extra helping of lightning zeal from
Zeus electrifies my blood fierce.
Future is a waiting game.
...
of punctuation and chosen letters,
proceeding to turn the heaviest page.
I dot my anticipation with an ellipses...
practicing the secretive art of cliff hanging,
finger tips slipping, slipping, gone.
The final-fatal-page is set unyielding.
It stares adamant minded and thick skinned,
thrumming with seductive enigma temptations.
I feel Cupids thrill through the papyrus,
an extra helping of lightning zeal from
Zeus electrifies my blood fierce.
Future is a waiting game.
...
883 reads
22 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Scribbler12
