Submissions by Tristitude
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
“I am old, Gandalf. I don't look it, but I am beginning to feel it in my heart of hearts. Well-preserved indeed! Why I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. That can't be right'
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
10th Dec 2020 1:57pm
10th Dec 2020 1:57pm
political rant
Skill is "the ability to do something well" it is not something gained through practice or hard work exclusively. (skilled labor)
We only know, what we know because we had the opportunity to learn it. Everyone is dumb and everyone is stupid until they educate themselves contextually. ( the for-profit university/college paywall is gatekeeping knowledge + recognition of being educated +acess to higher wages)
Agreeing to disagree does not magically split reality in two so that it can support all perceptions. (disagreements of indisputable truths)
With greater...
We only know, what we know because we had the opportunity to learn it. Everyone is dumb and everyone is stupid until they educate themselves contextually. ( the for-profit university/college paywall is gatekeeping knowledge + recognition of being educated +acess to higher wages)
Agreeing to disagree does not magically split reality in two so that it can support all perceptions. (disagreements of indisputable truths)
With greater...
#politics
#WritersBlock
252 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Nov 2020 4:28am
15th Nov 2020 4:28am
Ty
Was it wasted?
Was it not?
Either way, I learned a lot.
You reached out, open hand.
I didn't know what to say.
The advice you gave lay... untouched,
dusted on the top shelf.
As I have, for far too long, focused on myself.
Only now am I realizing its worth.
I would say “I'm sorry,”
but I don't want to sound insincere
Instead, I'll beat back the fear and get to work.
Kickin’ down this great bulwark
Of insecurity.
Incredulity of my own abilities
I remember... nothing is written in vain.
You have helped strengthen my...
Was it not?
Either way, I learned a lot.
You reached out, open hand.
I didn't know what to say.
The advice you gave lay... untouched,
dusted on the top shelf.
As I have, for far too long, focused on myself.
Only now am I realizing its worth.
I would say “I'm sorry,”
but I don't want to sound insincere
Instead, I'll beat back the fear and get to work.
Kickin’ down this great bulwark
Of insecurity.
Incredulity of my own abilities
I remember... nothing is written in vain.
You have helped strengthen my...
#WritersBlock
284 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Nov 2020 4:24am
15th Nov 2020 4:24am
awafsdfhjhjkkoljkjytre
Dust covered.
Pulled from cellar,
poured on
special occasions.
Scotch for depression
Wine for sophistication
Beer to feel like shit
And whiskey for that Irish prick.
I knew a man,
once.
He liked to sing
and dance,
but he didn’t stand a chance
Unless he was
intoxicated.
Pulled from cellar,
poured on
special occasions.
Scotch for depression
Wine for sophistication
Beer to feel like shit
And whiskey for that Irish prick.
I knew a man,
once.
He liked to sing
and dance,
but he didn’t stand a chance
Unless he was
intoxicated.
#WritersBlock
218 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Sep 2020 8:00am
29th Sep 2020 8:00am
uh
By shallow river bridge, we sigh.
Above grass, on rock, we lie.
We think of things: in time, and space
A catalogue of moments. A multitude of face.
Singularities, behind. The present, Infront;
Infinity, and Beyond.
A collection of thoughts
“Who is ‘I’?” we wonder.
And then, we are gone…
Above grass, on rock, we lie.
We think of things: in time, and space
A catalogue of moments. A multitude of face.
Singularities, behind. The present, Infront;
Infinity, and Beyond.
A collection of thoughts
“Who is ‘I’?” we wonder.
And then, we are gone…
#universe
264 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Jul 2020 4:56am
21st Jul 2020 4:56am
details
Beneath the barbed wire trim of their useless tin roofs
Birds perch on industrial windows and brick crumbles to the curb
and coffee-stained concrete
Whose cracks shaped like trees
mimic the vegetation ripping through
A graveyard fence that once took the front of a car
A lichen-covered bench of wood soaked from last springs rain.
Two flush trees
A stagnant river
100 dragon flys
A shopping cart caught by the weeds
Likely thrown by a frustrated shopper or an abstract artist
Or someone trying to make some fun In an otherwise...
Birds perch on industrial windows and brick crumbles to the curb
and coffee-stained concrete
Whose cracks shaped like trees
mimic the vegetation ripping through
A graveyard fence that once took the front of a car
A lichen-covered bench of wood soaked from last springs rain.
Two flush trees
A stagnant river
100 dragon flys
A shopping cart caught by the weeds
Likely thrown by a frustrated shopper or an abstract artist
Or someone trying to make some fun In an otherwise...
#animals
353 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Jul 2020 11:47pm
5th Jul 2020 11:47pm
Ides of Mayo Minus Ten-o
Driver,
passenger.
Which side
is the flip side?
Would ya
rather?
Church
or shit...
My moneys
on two birds
in a bush,
2001.
Which book
are we
readin’
to kids?
You got the goods?
Christ!
Semi-automatic,
easy
reload system.
Fans
that suck
air
outta
rooms.
Oh god,
so embarrassed.
Spaghetti
From the shirt pocket.
Sauce everywhere.
noodles, cooked in a washing machine.
2gether,
by 5gether
Audiobook
of...
passenger.
Which side
is the flip side?
Would ya
rather?
Church
or shit...
My moneys
on two birds
in a bush,
2001.
Which book
are we
readin’
to kids?
You got the goods?
Christ!
Semi-automatic,
easy
reload system.
Fans
that suck
air
outta
rooms.
Oh god,
so embarrassed.
Spaghetti
From the shirt pocket.
Sauce everywhere.
noodles, cooked in a washing machine.
2gether,
by 5gether
Audiobook
of...
#friendship
241 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
3rd Jul 2020 6:34pm
3rd Jul 2020 6:34pm
Heavens Gates
Heaven's gates are not made of pearls,
But Ivory- the husks of the dead deflecting
the hopeless wishes of the damned.
Hell is no place of torture, but of torment
and the wind's lament feeds the flames.
gods merely politicians and demons criminals
in the eyes of the law.
What labels drive which meanings?
But Ivory- the husks of the dead deflecting
the hopeless wishes of the damned.
Hell is no place of torture, but of torment
and the wind's lament feeds the flames.
gods merely politicians and demons criminals
in the eyes of the law.
What labels drive which meanings?
#religion
258 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
3rd Jul 2020 6:10am
3rd Jul 2020 6:10am
Smolder
Each branch and twig and needle green,
A cut across the frigid seam.
Each star a burn and smoke and haze,
A plight upon the clear blue days.
Treetops burning- branches flames,
And smoke and fog laid out the plains.
Gazing out with vision keen,
Embracing the fate of destruction.
Those of us awake wait to see who is left.
A cut across the frigid seam.
Each star a burn and smoke and haze,
A plight upon the clear blue days.
Treetops burning- branches flames,
And smoke and fog laid out the plains.
Gazing out with vision keen,
Embracing the fate of destruction.
Those of us awake wait to see who is left.
#fire
305 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
3rd Jul 2020 00:56am
3rd Jul 2020 00:56am
Some simile
I am worn out
like a traveler,
Like a car left in the sun,
Like an old man.
I am slow
Like the erosion of stone,
Like a changing mind,
Like the falling snow.
I am empty
like a rotted tree,
Like a brand new home,
Like a widow's bed.
I am confused
Like an ant on the hand,
Like a student in calculus,
Like a cat on a lift.
like a traveler,
Like a car left in the sun,
Like an old man.
I am slow
Like the erosion of stone,
Like a changing mind,
Like the falling snow.
I am empty
like a rotted tree,
Like a brand new home,
Like a widow's bed.
I am confused
Like an ant on the hand,
Like a student in calculus,
Like a cat on a lift.
#WritersBlock
280 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Jul 2020 10:56pm
1st Jul 2020 10:56pm
i should be able to save a daft without a f**king title.
I am sliding down the sidewalks of my youth
where the grass and dirt cling to my shoes
I count the turns of the wheel on my bike
Of moments of isolation and warmth of friends alike
My hands block the glaring sun from my eyes
Never wanting them to end, my childhood highs
On my back, in the grass
thinking on my not so distant past
I miss the places that have seen much change
Such times with you I would never exchange
where the grass and dirt cling to my shoes
I count the turns of the wheel on my bike
Of moments of isolation and warmth of friends alike
My hands block the glaring sun from my eyes
Never wanting them to end, my childhood highs
On my back, in the grass
thinking on my not so distant past
I miss the places that have seen much change
Such times with you I would never exchange
#memories
287 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th Jun 2020 9:39pm
27th Jun 2020 9:39pm
Monument
O’ dreaded pillar at the center of its pit
Clanging to blackened walls. To specks of light.
Sounding our demise with each booming iteration.
Bounding through the air above us all
If not for your consistent measure
Then the source for which you derive a horrible pleasure.
Would be silence without
Perhaps you stand at the center of the void
For otherwise there would be nothing.
Clanging to blackened walls. To specks of light.
Sounding our demise with each booming iteration.
Bounding through the air above us all
If not for your consistent measure
Then the source for which you derive a horrible pleasure.
Would be silence without
Perhaps you stand at the center of the void
For otherwise there would be nothing.
#silence
351 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
26th Jun 2020 8:35pm
26th Jun 2020 8:35pm
Decrepit Portrait
Brittle bones that bleed when they break.
Skin stretched stiffly cover not a face,
a false face, frustratingly unfixable,
fronting a mind remarkably unredeemable.
Sitting atop a gangly gaunt corpse,
angrily analyzing existential angst.
Skin stretched stiffly cover not a face,
a false face, frustratingly unfixable,
fronting a mind remarkably unredeemable.
Sitting atop a gangly gaunt corpse,
angrily analyzing existential angst.
#identity
304 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by Tristitude
