Submissions by Sublime
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
ANGER POEM
Published
3rd Sep 2012 2:38pm
3rd Sep 2012 2:38pm
Riot
Let's burn this city alive
eradicate the idiocy
behind each cement wall
We can blow the churches
that spew bullshit into the mouths
of insecure minds
Laugh at the hordes of girls
having not-so-holy thoughts
for the handsome priest
All the cheaters, liars, fornicators
Men of God, not so
They'll burn with us
all of us, when the bottle's gone dry
and our lips thirst for something else
We can nail our doors shut and
bar ourselves off from the outside world
and when the Crusades come knocking
have your Bible in...
eradicate the idiocy
behind each cement wall
We can blow the churches
that spew bullshit into the mouths
of insecure minds
Laugh at the hordes of girls
having not-so-holy thoughts
for the handsome priest
All the cheaters, liars, fornicators
Men of God, not so
They'll burn with us
all of us, when the bottle's gone dry
and our lips thirst for something else
We can nail our doors shut and
bar ourselves off from the outside world
and when the Crusades come knocking
have your Bible in...
1002 reads
9 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
26th Aug 2012 3:28pm
26th Aug 2012 3:28pm
Orange Soda
She was always pretty
long legs and cute freckles
linking fingers with womanhood
yet only softly
Quirky too
she always ate the same thing for lunch
peanut butter and jelly with
an apple for dessert
Always walked on only the white parts
of the crosswalk
she liked to count yellow cars
on her walks home from school
she always always always
stopped at the musky general store
nameless
for a bottled orange soda
The man behind the counter
he was young and handsome
always careful to give her a wink
or a...
long legs and cute freckles
linking fingers with womanhood
yet only softly
Quirky too
she always ate the same thing for lunch
peanut butter and jelly with
an apple for dessert
Always walked on only the white parts
of the crosswalk
she liked to count yellow cars
on her walks home from school
she always always always
stopped at the musky general store
nameless
for a bottled orange soda
The man behind the counter
he was young and handsome
always careful to give her a wink
or a...
1045 reads
10 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
14th Aug 2012 5:11am
14th Aug 2012 5:11am
Links (a collaboration with 13)
Folded, tucked in a corner
his parched throat shrills
infectious, contagious, lethargic
knighted and knotted in misery
when time stops
apathy doesn't.
how could you feel?
the torque his stomach takes
when a soft wail becomes a plea
and an oath becomes a stake
interfere; you're not a hero
you're out of place
by the boots of steel-toed injustice
we're all beaten
and ragged
discriminate and
salivate like a dog
spit we will
unlike on animals, still
one man's castle is
another...
his parched throat shrills
infectious, contagious, lethargic
knighted and knotted in misery
when time stops
apathy doesn't.
how could you feel?
the torque his stomach takes
when a soft wail becomes a plea
and an oath becomes a stake
interfere; you're not a hero
you're out of place
by the boots of steel-toed injustice
we're all beaten
and ragged
discriminate and
salivate like a dog
spit we will
unlike on animals, still
one man's castle is
another...
1055 reads
8 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
5th Aug 2012 11:08am
5th Aug 2012 11:08am
The Death of a Sailor
Across a jazzblue tapestry so keenly woven
speckled shine scatteres across the blue-black backdrop
grizzled and grey,
he sits inhaling the smoke of death
once a vision of yellow boots slushing in the deckwater
Grown to hard cursing and soft undertones
and onward to a haggard old man
he sits stillborn, pipe dangling
hands folded in content; a seafarer's dream
the smoke crowding in his lungs, the pipe drops to the deck
and a slow smile of retribution catches
the sailor's face
as his body falls off the edge
into the...
speckled shine scatteres across the blue-black backdrop
grizzled and grey,
he sits inhaling the smoke of death
once a vision of yellow boots slushing in the deckwater
Grown to hard cursing and soft undertones
and onward to a haggard old man
he sits stillborn, pipe dangling
hands folded in content; a seafarer's dream
the smoke crowding in his lungs, the pipe drops to the deck
and a slow smile of retribution catches
the sailor's face
as his body falls off the edge
into the...
1983 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Aug 2012 2:57pm
4th Aug 2012 2:57pm
Calm
Move the mist from faraway
Creeps eager on green meadows
Fingers laces through the trees
Of vivid dreams and fantasies
Creep forth what sweet sentiments do not contain
a tantalizing dewdrop trickling into hungry mist
With crimson washes away the resigned smell of
lilac and ocean
And with such breaking dawn or sunset
comes the air of big calm
a slight blanket over the icing roofs
and the haggard country
In a place not so abrasive nor chafing
a place to delve underneath the folds
of a stone-bridged green river ...
Creeps eager on green meadows
Fingers laces through the trees
Of vivid dreams and fantasies
Creep forth what sweet sentiments do not contain
a tantalizing dewdrop trickling into hungry mist
With crimson washes away the resigned smell of
lilac and ocean
And with such breaking dawn or sunset
comes the air of big calm
a slight blanket over the icing roofs
and the haggard country
In a place not so abrasive nor chafing
a place to delve underneath the folds
of a stone-bridged green river ...
879 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Jul 2012 5:03pm
20th Jul 2012 5:03pm
Murphy
I.
Never change
always as she is now
an image of slight snow
Pale hands tugging at the ends
of canvas tan hair
Dark pistachio eyes
framed by eggplant lashes
cheeks shine when tearstained
hair concealing self-proclaimed
less-than-perfect ears
An array of complex features
yet a simple sheet of paper
beautiful wingspan of art and loyalty
never to toy around
not simple nor stickstraight
yet relating
to our minor differences.
II.
I have loved her
across tables of despair...
Never change
always as she is now
an image of slight snow
Pale hands tugging at the ends
of canvas tan hair
Dark pistachio eyes
framed by eggplant lashes
cheeks shine when tearstained
hair concealing self-proclaimed
less-than-perfect ears
An array of complex features
yet a simple sheet of paper
beautiful wingspan of art and loyalty
never to toy around
not simple nor stickstraight
yet relating
to our minor differences.
II.
I have loved her
across tables of despair...
900 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Jul 2012 6:36am
15th Jul 2012 6:36am
Bottom
If I lie here
on blue and white striped sheets
maybe I'll build a life in this little hole
that I've dug myself into
and those days
when it's too hot under the covers
I'll sing myself to sleep
a lullaby of sugar and smoke
I think I'm just cheap fun
toyed with at no expense
led astray by wishbones and
broken promises
but I'll wander back onto the path
and quit dangling above
temptation's maw
and maybe
if I really want to
I can touch the ground too.
on blue and white striped sheets
maybe I'll build a life in this little hole
that I've dug myself into
and those days
when it's too hot under the covers
I'll sing myself to sleep
a lullaby of sugar and smoke
I think I'm just cheap fun
toyed with at no expense
led astray by wishbones and
broken promises
but I'll wander back onto the path
and quit dangling above
temptation's maw
and maybe
if I really want to
I can touch the ground too.
983 reads
8 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
13th Jul 2012 5:53am
13th Jul 2012 5:53am
A Whore in Discontent
It was always over something stupid
but maybe it's because I never believed
in the idiocy of giving yourself up
to get the momentary thrill of feeling worth it
and us girls,
we're just whores to them
their waters
in which they pissed and shat
and splashed about
something to touch up and leave their
sticky white fingerprints everywhere
they're just dogs claiming territory
by crapping on what they claim as theirs
like a box of discarded toys,
or at least
that's what they make it out to be like
so what, they say...
but maybe it's because I never believed
in the idiocy of giving yourself up
to get the momentary thrill of feeling worth it
and us girls,
we're just whores to them
their waters
in which they pissed and shat
and splashed about
something to touch up and leave their
sticky white fingerprints everywhere
they're just dogs claiming territory
by crapping on what they claim as theirs
like a box of discarded toys,
or at least
that's what they make it out to be like
so what, they say...
813 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Jul 2012 5:37am
13th Jul 2012 5:37am
The Town
The thoughtless whispers at the end of the hallway
are replaced by the delicate steps of children
on a hot, hot sidewalk,
muffled
by the thirty-dollar sneakers their mothers bought
on sale
a couple kiss beneath a Technicolor picture
of David Bowie
their tired lips twin butterflies
fluttering together in bruised battle
while a young man in the next room over
receives a feel under a dirty blanket
from a girl no more respected
than her prostitute of a mum
And even though I've got no right
I'll sit there, fiddling with the...
are replaced by the delicate steps of children
on a hot, hot sidewalk,
muffled
by the thirty-dollar sneakers their mothers bought
on sale
a couple kiss beneath a Technicolor picture
of David Bowie
their tired lips twin butterflies
fluttering together in bruised battle
while a young man in the next room over
receives a feel under a dirty blanket
from a girl no more respected
than her prostitute of a mum
And even though I've got no right
I'll sit there, fiddling with the...
847 reads
4 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
10th Jul 2012 4:30am
10th Jul 2012 4:30am
Purist
Bone-marrow Sunday,
He strikes me with a
good-morning kiss
as the static electricity
swarms the blaring television set
in the next room over
when I've got the guts
I take my complaints
and rant to a countertop
in hopes to see the granite surface
twitch or twist
in agreement
and then I escape the place
only to waver at a bus station
as an unseen woman calls me a liar
and a bitch
her words searing my ears
flooding from her coral lips
straight into my head
I was born and made
to die dead...
He strikes me with a
good-morning kiss
as the static electricity
swarms the blaring television set
in the next room over
when I've got the guts
I take my complaints
and rant to a countertop
in hopes to see the granite surface
twitch or twist
in agreement
and then I escape the place
only to waver at a bus station
as an unseen woman calls me a liar
and a bitch
her words searing my ears
flooding from her coral lips
straight into my head
I was born and made
to die dead...
759 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Jul 2012 6:51am
8th Jul 2012 6:51am
Waterfire
Bathed and wrung,
she sits heavily
on a wooden bench
popcorn crushed
beneath her boots
as the hot summer night air
drifts her and surrounds her
pushes feverishly on her back
and shoulders
begging and pleading for recognition
a man stands nearby
toes pointed towards the river
that runs through the city
like a sword through
his heart
his hand trembles as he
brings a cigarette to and from
his mouth
his hair the color
of a cream rug stained with wine
and a chin hard and rough
as stucco
his...
she sits heavily
on a wooden bench
popcorn crushed
beneath her boots
as the hot summer night air
drifts her and surrounds her
pushes feverishly on her back
and shoulders
begging and pleading for recognition
a man stands nearby
toes pointed towards the river
that runs through the city
like a sword through
his heart
his hand trembles as he
brings a cigarette to and from
his mouth
his hair the color
of a cream rug stained with wine
and a chin hard and rough
as stucco
his...
742 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
30th Jun 2012 6:09am
30th Jun 2012 6:09am
Hypocorism
As I sit in a draft
sunk into trimmed grass
I read the letters of
poor-me souls
and I laugh at the way
they bleed all over themselves
and expect the sympathy
of others
I mock that which others
find so tragic and awful
and I complain
when one is judged by
one's appearance alone
As I sit on that plateau
I mimic and snicker
at what I believe to be
the stupidity of others
but I do not allow myself
to glance further across the field
because there I will find a pond
so crystal clear
my reflection...
sunk into trimmed grass
I read the letters of
poor-me souls
and I laugh at the way
they bleed all over themselves
and expect the sympathy
of others
I mock that which others
find so tragic and awful
and I complain
when one is judged by
one's appearance alone
As I sit on that plateau
I mimic and snicker
at what I believe to be
the stupidity of others
but I do not allow myself
to glance further across the field
because there I will find a pond
so crystal clear
my reflection...
889 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Sublime
