Submissions by Thethree3 (Shane Hawks)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
ANGER POEM
Published
11th Sep 2015 5:54am
11th Sep 2015 5:54am
Ode to Animus
Ode to Animus
The Gods know I'd spill the marrow from my bones
and deliver that rancid pound of flesh
to see you safely home
and save us from this creeping death.
I'd split the spalling earth in two,
divide the crust and crack the mantle
to expose the molten core in you,
and discover why I can't hold a
candle,
which burns and turns
like the fuming passion
within my ashen heart.
Come press your head against my
heaving chest.
Can you hear the dirge of restlessness
resonating from my ribcage,
lamenting every subtle...
The Gods know I'd spill the marrow from my bones
and deliver that rancid pound of flesh
to see you safely home
and save us from this creeping death.
I'd split the spalling earth in two,
divide the crust and crack the mantle
to expose the molten core in you,
and discover why I can't hold a
candle,
which burns and turns
like the fuming passion
within my ashen heart.
Come press your head against my
heaving chest.
Can you hear the dirge of restlessness
resonating from my ribcage,
lamenting every subtle...
649 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Jan 2015 10:57pm
9th Jan 2015 10:57pm
Quarter-life crisis
When did the magic and mystery of childhood innocence become the apathetic endurance of adulthood?
The degrade into vulgar debauchery and perverse corruption is so gradual we never took notice,
but while our attention is diverted to our adolescent trivial travesties a tragedy is taking place.
The world was closing in on us and before we knew it we were surrounded with enemies bearing down all around us.
Somewhere along the way we forgot how to breathe but became familiar with screaming.
Upon inspection,
in retrospect, it seems I've fallen short and the vast...
The degrade into vulgar debauchery and perverse corruption is so gradual we never took notice,
but while our attention is diverted to our adolescent trivial travesties a tragedy is taking place.
The world was closing in on us and before we knew it we were surrounded with enemies bearing down all around us.
Somewhere along the way we forgot how to breathe but became familiar with screaming.
Upon inspection,
in retrospect, it seems I've fallen short and the vast...
925 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
26th Nov 2014 11:30pm
26th Nov 2014 11:30pm
Revival
Swollen and distended
we shiver as one.
We swell and break
like waves against the rocks.
It isn't spoken,
isn't affirmed by tone or pitch or cleverly assembled syllables,
but we recognize the amorphous atrophy of our vestigial hearts,
So we rebel
and buffer each others abrasions,
absorbing the seismic vibrations that tremble within the void
where my flesh ends and yours begins.
We revolt lest we implode
but we sing for different,
indifferent souls.
Your subtle idiosyncrasies compliment my madness.
You are the darkness...
we shiver as one.
We swell and break
like waves against the rocks.
It isn't spoken,
isn't affirmed by tone or pitch or cleverly assembled syllables,
but we recognize the amorphous atrophy of our vestigial hearts,
So we rebel
and buffer each others abrasions,
absorbing the seismic vibrations that tremble within the void
where my flesh ends and yours begins.
We revolt lest we implode
but we sing for different,
indifferent souls.
Your subtle idiosyncrasies compliment my madness.
You are the darkness...
822 reads
6 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
12th Feb 2014 3:59am
12th Feb 2014 3:59am
Bottomless
To love as a junkie,
to lose the fight,
to succumb to disaster
and give into the night.
I long for your touch,
just a taste of this hate
that spreads like fire
and lays everything to waste.
It's a venomous warmth,
this love for pain,
this need to suffer
from within the flame.
I'm screaming inside
for salvation to come,
for some kind of savior
yet praying to none.
Please,
a chance is all I ask,
to take this breathe
and make it my last
because within the fray
I feel so feeble
for seeking redemption...
to lose the fight,
to succumb to disaster
and give into the night.
I long for your touch,
just a taste of this hate
that spreads like fire
and lays everything to waste.
It's a venomous warmth,
this love for pain,
this need to suffer
from within the flame.
I'm screaming inside
for salvation to come,
for some kind of savior
yet praying to none.
Please,
a chance is all I ask,
to take this breathe
and make it my last
because within the fray
I feel so feeble
for seeking redemption...
998 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
1st Dec 2013 3:02am
1st Dec 2013 3:02am
Rabid
I enter you deep and strong
as reason fades to tatters,
when the grey closes in
and only fury matters.
A primal rush of feral lust
that blurs the borders between feed and fuck.
Your flesh is flushed with wanting heat,
my jaws are made for hunting meat.
The scent is thick, the chase is on,
the price is rather steep.
The game is sick, the prey is gone
and there are promises to keep.
Gnashing teeth and bucking bones,
two wild beasts hewn from stone,
entwined within the vines
of deaths enticing throes.
We feast upon the...
as reason fades to tatters,
when the grey closes in
and only fury matters.
A primal rush of feral lust
that blurs the borders between feed and fuck.
Your flesh is flushed with wanting heat,
my jaws are made for hunting meat.
The scent is thick, the chase is on,
the price is rather steep.
The game is sick, the prey is gone
and there are promises to keep.
Gnashing teeth and bucking bones,
two wild beasts hewn from stone,
entwined within the vines
of deaths enticing throes.
We feast upon the...
934 reads
5 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
6th Aug 2013 9:13pm
6th Aug 2013 9:13pm
When the crimson cloud blooms.
Alone with my sorrow
and a carbon coated spoon
I forget about tomorrow
once the crimson cloud bloom.
A tourniquet to stop the bleeding
of severed thoughts in the act of breeding.
My rotting veins distending, swollen with doom
I get a taste of the grave
when the crimson cloud blooms.
It's a kiss of bliss concealed in a pin prick,
too much or too little will both leave me sick.
An entire lifetime of love is consumed
when I push in that plunger
after the crimson cloud blooms.
These tracks guide the train straight to the station,...
and a carbon coated spoon
I forget about tomorrow
once the crimson cloud bloom.
A tourniquet to stop the bleeding
of severed thoughts in the act of breeding.
My rotting veins distending, swollen with doom
I get a taste of the grave
when the crimson cloud blooms.
It's a kiss of bliss concealed in a pin prick,
too much or too little will both leave me sick.
An entire lifetime of love is consumed
when I push in that plunger
after the crimson cloud blooms.
These tracks guide the train straight to the station,...
1120 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th Mar 2013 9:24pm
29th Mar 2013 9:24pm
The Philosopher
He's a deep thinker,
A philosopher,
A ponderer upon the sands of time.
He has stood on the brink and stared
into worlds where atomic ions collide
and ventured in thought from
primordial pools to ancient societies
that never survived.
He's debated theology and deities,
benevolent, malevolent and divine.
He's explored the clandestine faults
that riddle the surfaces of his mind
to seek out the answers regarding
existence and the flaws in humanities design.
He is a man of mental fortitude
who is brilliant and wise
and you can...
A philosopher,
A ponderer upon the sands of time.
He has stood on the brink and stared
into worlds where atomic ions collide
and ventured in thought from
primordial pools to ancient societies
that never survived.
He's debated theology and deities,
benevolent, malevolent and divine.
He's explored the clandestine faults
that riddle the surfaces of his mind
to seek out the answers regarding
existence and the flaws in humanities design.
He is a man of mental fortitude
who is brilliant and wise
and you can...
661 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th Feb 2013 6:49am
24th Feb 2013 6:49am
Passing penumbra.
Every second that passes is a crisis averted
or a fading memory of a dream deserted.
The best thing we'll ever lose
is our hearts to another
and the worst thing we'll ever lose
is the heart of a lover.
or a fading memory of a dream deserted.
The best thing we'll ever lose
is our hearts to another
and the worst thing we'll ever lose
is the heart of a lover.
692 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Feb 2013 8:41am
18th Feb 2013 8:41am
Mistake.
Lo, I've stumble upon a box,
ornate and gilded in gold.
It is faded and weathered,
and engraved with alien letters yet elegant in its age of old.
I could not stay my hand from cracking the hinge
nor stay my eye from peering within but,
woe, once opened and able to breath
a darkness poured out and Pandora was freed.
ornate and gilded in gold.
It is faded and weathered,
and engraved with alien letters yet elegant in its age of old.
I could not stay my hand from cracking the hinge
nor stay my eye from peering within but,
woe, once opened and able to breath
a darkness poured out and Pandora was freed.
713 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Jan 2013 1:18am
29th Jan 2013 1:18am
October eve.
Beneath an onyx sky and a moon
wreathed in lunar fire,
Lies a hibernating wood
where we gather for the pyre.
And the leaves that crackle underfoot
remind me of the flames
and their wanton iridescence
upon the corpses that they claim.
Beneath a field of stars
and wraithlike wisps of cloud,
Nature sings to me an opera of sound.
And the mists upon the breeze
can ease the weariest of hearts,
as sure as the rains will bring dew
to the desolate and parched.
wreathed in lunar fire,
Lies a hibernating wood
where we gather for the pyre.
And the leaves that crackle underfoot
remind me of the flames
and their wanton iridescence
upon the corpses that they claim.
Beneath a field of stars
and wraithlike wisps of cloud,
Nature sings to me an opera of sound.
And the mists upon the breeze
can ease the weariest of hearts,
as sure as the rains will bring dew
to the desolate and parched.
639 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
19th Jan 2013 10:19am
19th Jan 2013 10:19am
Upon the mountain. Act II
Legions below.
A writhing mass squirming beneath soot and ash.
The view from atop the precipice is one of glorious horror.
The eons that man has slithered through the sands of time,
Every child birthed, every grave dug or war waged,
every possible point in the filthy, avarice riddled human timeline has converged and coalesced into the present.
This day, this moment.
(These last moments.)
The bloated star above has cast the surrounding landscape
in hues of scarlet and vermillion that bleed into deep,
abysmal crimson upon entering the shade. ...
A writhing mass squirming beneath soot and ash.
The view from atop the precipice is one of glorious horror.
The eons that man has slithered through the sands of time,
Every child birthed, every grave dug or war waged,
every possible point in the filthy, avarice riddled human timeline has converged and coalesced into the present.
This day, this moment.
(These last moments.)
The bloated star above has cast the surrounding landscape
in hues of scarlet and vermillion that bleed into deep,
abysmal crimson upon entering the shade. ...
811 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Jan 2013 5:25am
9th Jan 2013 5:25am
Omnipotent Haiku.
Don't ask me to dance.
Dancing is for the jesters.
Fools dance for their king.
Dancing is for the jesters.
Fools dance for their king.
771 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Thethree3 (Shane Hawks)
