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'
Napoleonic: I. Enemy
The light snow flurries through the air
settling onto everything in sight.
The upper layer of the hard snow crunched and collapsed beneath my pace,
opening casam after casam of watery pits.
I tried moving fast
yet with each quickening step more force was applied to the hard icy film,
sharding and breaking it.
The crevasses’ splashing out water, that water dampening and freezing my boots,
` my feet with them
I tore my gauntlets off,
as they fell one clanged up against the hilt of my sword
Forming a strikingly crisp sound within the...
settling onto everything in sight.
The upper layer of the hard snow crunched and collapsed beneath my pace,
opening casam after casam of watery pits.
I tried moving fast
yet with each quickening step more force was applied to the hard icy film,
sharding and breaking it.
The crevasses’ splashing out water, that water dampening and freezing my boots,
` my feet with them
I tore my gauntlets off,
as they fell one clanged up against the hilt of my sword
Forming a strikingly crisp sound within the...
#politics
#war
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Blank
Smoke billowed from the depths of the definitionless.
Bright highlighted mellow violet
Blue rays, parallel. Yellowed skylights
Joy- simplified, to capital consumption.
but though there is nothing but absence,
incomplex expression
uninterested in emotion. I say
“Take hold of me
...
Bright highlighted mellow violet
Blue rays, parallel. Yellowed skylights
Joy- simplified, to capital consumption.
but though there is nothing but absence,
incomplex expression
uninterested in emotion. I say
“Take hold of me
...
#PopCulture
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Breath
Mine eyes inhale light
every beautiful sight.
The wind on leaves... that sounds just right
Fists bleed and break when they fight
and I feel aite
just alright.
A hole in the ground
or the dirt lying around
uneven, but relatively flat,
Waiting for a moment that’ll last.
An unsure future.
A thoughtless past.
Time moves as the shadows cast.
I’m just waiting for what?
Good luck?
But I don't believe in that shit.
So no siree.
Nigh I.
Not me....
and the robin stands tall and proud
upon a stump ...
every beautiful sight.
The wind on leaves... that sounds just right
Fists bleed and break when they fight
and I feel aite
just alright.
A hole in the ground
or the dirt lying around
uneven, but relatively flat,
Waiting for a moment that’ll last.
An unsure future.
A thoughtless past.
Time moves as the shadows cast.
I’m just waiting for what?
Good luck?
But I don't believe in that shit.
So no siree.
Nigh I.
Not me....
and the robin stands tall and proud
upon a stump ...
#conflict
#birds
#confessional
#morality
#SelfWorth
472 reads
0 Comments
Ode To Fall Too.
I.
Crows are the bringers of the frost,
the late dawn and
the eerie dreary days that haunt us;
by September,
come October,
gone December.
The fallen colors of false flame sparks
remnants of the warmth we once had,
now gone
soon to fade, to brown and fallen to the dirt
crushed beneath the snow
forgotten.
II.
Plank wood fences and ballast roads
Iron equators:
not unlike rib, not unlike bone.
Fall- the golden spike
The transeasonal railway.
Luxurious dining cars serve as our hideaways
From...
Crows are the bringers of the frost,
the late dawn and
the eerie dreary days that haunt us;
by September,
come October,
gone December.
The fallen colors of false flame sparks
remnants of the warmth we once had,
now gone
soon to fade, to brown and fallen to the dirt
crushed beneath the snow
forgotten.
II.
Plank wood fences and ballast roads
Iron equators:
not unlike rib, not unlike bone.
Fall- the golden spike
The transeasonal railway.
Luxurious dining cars serve as our hideaways
From...
#LifeAsAWriter
470 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Tristitude