Submissions by SychophanticSlag
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Often flawed, rarely favored.
STORY POEM
Published
28th Jun 2011 8:29am
28th Jun 2011 8:29am
Fairytales; The Little Mermaid
They pulled her from the sea,
Algae tangled in her crimson locks.
Stained a sickening green,
No clothes to be seen.
Threw her on the deck,
Prodded her with needles,
and fondled with barbaric hands.
No use of a mermaid without a heartbeat,
and so the ship had a succulent,
forbidden feast.
The chef got the best piece.
Used up her scaled body,
Til it seeped with too many debauched liquids.
He was a spineless squid.
And so the sea raged,
Dishonored.
Triton swore the ship to the depths of Hell. ...
Algae tangled in her crimson locks.
Stained a sickening green,
No clothes to be seen.
Threw her on the deck,
Prodded her with needles,
and fondled with barbaric hands.
No use of a mermaid without a heartbeat,
and so the ship had a succulent,
forbidden feast.
The chef got the best piece.
Used up her scaled body,
Til it seeped with too many debauched liquids.
He was a spineless squid.
And so the sea raged,
Dishonored.
Triton swore the ship to the depths of Hell. ...
1040 reads
6 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
27th Jun 2011 11:29am
27th Jun 2011 11:29am
Cigarette Stains, Satan Makes.
He leaves the window open.
I can hear him swearing,
brooding.
Underneath I wait,
and he knows.
Flicking ashes,
Burning down on my spine.
Laughing and taunting.
Don't I dare look up.
Though, everyone knows
Why I've arrived.
Still I clutch my veil tighter.
It's time.
His tail dangles down,
Tangles around my heart,
and Legs.
He pulls me up.
Smoke fogs up my mind,
Serpent tongue plays around,
Prodding my neck,
Burning holes with each taste.
Hacking,
He paints me...
I can hear him swearing,
brooding.
Underneath I wait,
and he knows.
Flicking ashes,
Burning down on my spine.
Laughing and taunting.
Don't I dare look up.
Though, everyone knows
Why I've arrived.
Still I clutch my veil tighter.
It's time.
His tail dangles down,
Tangles around my heart,
and Legs.
He pulls me up.
Smoke fogs up my mind,
Serpent tongue plays around,
Prodding my neck,
Burning holes with each taste.
Hacking,
He paints me...
801 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
27th Jun 2011 3:55am
27th Jun 2011 3:55am
Tired of bullshit on this site. Grow up.
I am really very tired of this 'woe is me' shit.
Get over yourself bitch.
Attention seeking,
Like blood sucking creeps.
Preying on other 'emotionally' 'distraught' kids.
This isn't the place,
we are not therapists,
if you even need one at all.
When did depression become a fad?
Argue, argue and say it hasn't.
You're a truly very sad young lad.
Now fill up the comments, forums and all.
"You don't know me!"
"Is this about so and so?"
"How can you say this?"
Yeah, go hide behind your 'scars'.
Get over yourself bitch.
Attention seeking,
Like blood sucking creeps.
Preying on other 'emotionally' 'distraught' kids.
This isn't the place,
we are not therapists,
if you even need one at all.
When did depression become a fad?
Argue, argue and say it hasn't.
You're a truly very sad young lad.
Now fill up the comments, forums and all.
"You don't know me!"
"Is this about so and so?"
"How can you say this?"
Yeah, go hide behind your 'scars'.
875 reads
5 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Jun 2011 7:50pm
22nd Jun 2011 7:50pm
Fame.
Let's rape the women,
and sell thechildren.
Sex symbols made in the womb,
You're alive now time tosoccumb to fame.
Fame for fucksworth.
No talent is needed,
Aslong as you leave your audience naively cheated.
Media whore,
Horror show.
Don't let them see you have emotions,
In fact you shouldn't have any at all!
Slit on smile, make this play worth their while.
Kiss the babies, fuck their fathers, be a friend to their mothers.
Anything to make them love you,
They will love you.
and sell thechildren.
Sex symbols made in the womb,
You're alive now time tosoccumb to fame.
Fame for fucksworth.
No talent is needed,
Aslong as you leave your audience naively cheated.
Media whore,
Horror show.
Don't let them see you have emotions,
In fact you shouldn't have any at all!
Slit on smile, make this play worth their while.
Kiss the babies, fuck their fathers, be a friend to their mothers.
Anything to make them love you,
They will love you.
752 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Jun 2011 7:33pm
22nd Jun 2011 7:33pm
Gerascophobia
My hair is brown with scarlet undertones.
But I can easily see it turning grey,
Till it all disapears one day.
My skin tone is warm,
And never have I suffered from acne of any form.
Still I see wrinkles, and dark spots coming my way,
And then sagging, deteriorating skin from my bones.
I can recite all of your poems and songs front to back,
and remember every word you ever spoke to me.
Though, sometimes I'll forget somebodies name, or my own phone number.
And I see it getting worse.
I know someday those words will cease to...
But I can easily see it turning grey,
Till it all disapears one day.
My skin tone is warm,
And never have I suffered from acne of any form.
Still I see wrinkles, and dark spots coming my way,
And then sagging, deteriorating skin from my bones.
I can recite all of your poems and songs front to back,
and remember every word you ever spoke to me.
Though, sometimes I'll forget somebodies name, or my own phone number.
And I see it getting worse.
I know someday those words will cease to...
1173 reads
7 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
21st Jun 2011 11:31am
21st Jun 2011 11:31am
Fear of Love
Is it normal for young girls to cower away from love?
The thought of it twisting their insides,
and not in the butterfly way.
Well, I find love horrifying.
And to most degrees disgusting.
Love makes men and women alike mindless, baffling idiots.
I steer far, far away from anyone who might pull my heart strings.
Because in the end they will pull the plug on my sanity.
Most girls lust for attention,
confusing it with love.
They will do anything to achieve it.
Stand around in abusive relationships,
Cheat other girls out of relationships....
The thought of it twisting their insides,
and not in the butterfly way.
Well, I find love horrifying.
And to most degrees disgusting.
Love makes men and women alike mindless, baffling idiots.
I steer far, far away from anyone who might pull my heart strings.
Because in the end they will pull the plug on my sanity.
Most girls lust for attention,
confusing it with love.
They will do anything to achieve it.
Stand around in abusive relationships,
Cheat other girls out of relationships....
941 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
21st Jun 2011 10:42am
21st Jun 2011 10:42am
I'll hide you in my walls.
You're really beautiful.
The kind of beauty I could hide in my walls.
Hidden from the eager eyes of scum.
So what do you say doll?
I'll treat you nice, real nice.
Shield you from the cancerous rays,
Protecting that pale quivering face.
Why are you shaking?
Don't resist this,
You'll fit just fine.
I carved out a perfect space,
To fit your hourglass waist.
I'm stacking these bricks for you my dear,
Encasing your beauty forever.
Just a few more...and you'll be gorgeously preserved.
Damn, I should have built...
The kind of beauty I could hide in my walls.
Hidden from the eager eyes of scum.
So what do you say doll?
I'll treat you nice, real nice.
Shield you from the cancerous rays,
Protecting that pale quivering face.
Why are you shaking?
Don't resist this,
You'll fit just fine.
I carved out a perfect space,
To fit your hourglass waist.
I'm stacking these bricks for you my dear,
Encasing your beauty forever.
Just a few more...and you'll be gorgeously preserved.
Damn, I should have built...
1080 reads
7 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Jun 2011 8:43am
20th Jun 2011 8:43am
Cara Mia
Dashing,
Dead and ever so dapper.
Your decayed fingers trace portraits on my heart,
Caricatures of destructive love, forbidden love.
Appalling yet ever so appealing.
Try and try to shake these feelings,
But, Dear, I simply cannot.
Is it the way your skin so pale drapes off your bones?
Or the way you stare?
Empty sockets but I know you see the real me.
No, no.
It's your stubborn attitude.
Refusing to undress yourself at night,
or brush your rotting teeth.
Honestly it can get quite annoying,
but it's just your cry for...
Dead and ever so dapper.
Your decayed fingers trace portraits on my heart,
Caricatures of destructive love, forbidden love.
Appalling yet ever so appealing.
Try and try to shake these feelings,
But, Dear, I simply cannot.
Is it the way your skin so pale drapes off your bones?
Or the way you stare?
Empty sockets but I know you see the real me.
No, no.
It's your stubborn attitude.
Refusing to undress yourself at night,
or brush your rotting teeth.
Honestly it can get quite annoying,
but it's just your cry for...
1036 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Jun 2011 00:58am
18th Jun 2011 00:58am
Love; a word used so carelessly.
In order to live,
We must always have someone holding our hearts...
Or maybe just our fancy.
Afterall what is the meaning of life without a body to hold?
There is no such thing as finding happiness without infatuation,
Which is often confused with love.
God knows we can't function by ourselves.
And the thought of rejection is absolutely terrifying.
Rejection will come almost always.
Leaving us feeling worthless.
Just one person ruining our whole aspect on a million.
How could he say no?
It isn't fair.
No dear it isn't,
We all know...
We must always have someone holding our hearts...
Or maybe just our fancy.
Afterall what is the meaning of life without a body to hold?
There is no such thing as finding happiness without infatuation,
Which is often confused with love.
God knows we can't function by ourselves.
And the thought of rejection is absolutely terrifying.
Rejection will come almost always.
Leaving us feeling worthless.
Just one person ruining our whole aspect on a million.
How could he say no?
It isn't fair.
No dear it isn't,
We all know...
1105 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Jun 2011 10:25am
17th Jun 2011 10:25am
let the youth rot away, we don't need these brains afterall.
Son, Daughter.
Girl, Boy.
It's all the same, different sound.
"We are we, as you are he"
Yet we are not all together.
Children raised by animals,
Using outdated abusive morals.
Sons afraid of unholy affection,
Daughters afraid of opposing religions.
Shield our youth!
Coddle them from filth.
Don't you dare ask them to challenge their beliefs.
Afterall, Lord knows questioning is wrong.
Mothers don't just stand and watch,
As your children are dared to open their eyes to a new world.
Girl, Boy.
It's all the same, different sound.
"We are we, as you are he"
Yet we are not all together.
Children raised by animals,
Using outdated abusive morals.
Sons afraid of unholy affection,
Daughters afraid of opposing religions.
Shield our youth!
Coddle them from filth.
Don't you dare ask them to challenge their beliefs.
Afterall, Lord knows questioning is wrong.
Mothers don't just stand and watch,
As your children are dared to open their eyes to a new world.
802 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
17th Jun 2011 9:53am
17th Jun 2011 9:53am
Raw
I'm peeling the skin from my body,
Bones and muscle, no sense of casualty.
It's strange, because now that I've shown my self raw,
Nobody seems to like me.
Bones and muscle, no sense of casualty.
It's strange, because now that I've shown my self raw,
Nobody seems to like me.
886 reads
1 Comment
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
16th Jun 2011 7:13am
16th Jun 2011 7:13am
Disoriented Devotee
Barbed wire crown.
Pull it tighter,
Tighter till the blood pours plenty.
Schizophrenia,
Much like Ambrosia.
Jesus,
Can you here me Christ?
My minds running at a dull pace.
But they're telling me to calm down,
Down that rabbit hole.
I'm just seeking that Holy place. Cheeks blazing scarlet,
Preaching, more like screaming,
Irrational vehemence.
Lungs are lacerated.
Lord, oh Lord,
My brains being grated.
Spare me, Help me, Save me; I am the disoriented devotee.
Pull it tighter,
Tighter till the blood pours plenty.
Schizophrenia,
Much like Ambrosia.
Jesus,
Can you here me Christ?
My minds running at a dull pace.
But they're telling me to calm down,
Down that rabbit hole.
I'm just seeking that Holy place. Cheeks blazing scarlet,
Preaching, more like screaming,
Irrational vehemence.
Lungs are lacerated.
Lord, oh Lord,
My brains being grated.
Spare me, Help me, Save me; I am the disoriented devotee.
712 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by SychophanticSlag
