Submissions by TyrannicalWorm (Nathan A. Brock)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I write things. Some of these things are good, I suppose.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Dec 2019 10:13pm
30th Dec 2019 10:13pm
Untitled 12/10/2019
I’ll be at this tavern for the next
few hours, chewing my whiskey
as the karaoke brigade
takes turns raping the microphone;
producing sounds that I can
only compare to a
humping dog
forcing its way into my ear canal -
but, I’m not ready to go home
just yet.
She’s there and she’s not happy,
but then, she never is.
Ah… There are several types of women
in this world, and I understand
none of them
so, instead,
...
few hours, chewing my whiskey
as the karaoke brigade
takes turns raping the microphone;
producing sounds that I can
only compare to a
humping dog
forcing its way into my ear canal -
but, I’m not ready to go home
just yet.
She’s there and she’s not happy,
but then, she never is.
Ah… There are several types of women
in this world, and I understand
none of them
so, instead,
...
#women
#alcohol
536 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Dec 2019 7:53am
30th Dec 2019 7:53am
Adventures of a Pervert
Downtown Los Angeles,
October 2019
It’s a sweltering day, and that
bastard sun sits gloating o’er the city -
pouring his arrogance onto those who
dare trespass within his vision.
All the pretty women seem
okay with the heat; as they can be
seen strolling through town
in their shoulderless tops and impossibly
short trousers that showcase a bright
smile under each cheek.
All of their bottoms smile in this way;
encouraging wayward eyes to
misbehave as their owners struggle
to confine them;...
October 2019
It’s a sweltering day, and that
bastard sun sits gloating o’er the city -
pouring his arrogance onto those who
dare trespass within his vision.
All the pretty women seem
okay with the heat; as they can be
seen strolling through town
in their shoulderless tops and impossibly
short trousers that showcase a bright
smile under each cheek.
All of their bottoms smile in this way;
encouraging wayward eyes to
misbehave as their owners struggle
to confine them;...
#funny
509 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Dec 2019 00:32am
30th Dec 2019 00:32am
Fog at 3AM
Deep in the stillness of the night,
as I look out at the city
after a fresh rain
-when the fog lies among
glittering pillars
of iron and glass-
I ponder how the
Los Angeles skyline
looks like Gotham.
Hazed and
half expecting to see
the Batman
perched atop the
U.S. Bank tower,
I rub my eyes and hope
sleep finds me soon
so I may dream of serving
as Catwoman's scratching post,
...
as I look out at the city
after a fresh rain
-when the fog lies among
glittering pillars
of iron and glass-
I ponder how the
Los Angeles skyline
looks like Gotham.
Hazed and
half expecting to see
the Batman
perched atop the
U.S. Bank tower,
I rub my eyes and hope
sleep finds me soon
so I may dream of serving
as Catwoman's scratching post,
...
#sleep
475 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Dec 2019 5:44am
29th Dec 2019 5:44am
Grave Stone
No small rock
discretely marking
my final place of rest;
no!
My marker shall be
a monolithic work
of hand chiseled Stone,
upon which ravens
shall perch
and contemplate the
simplicity of death
as they look to the sun
rising from the fog
on the distant
horizon.
discretely marking
my final place of rest;
no!
My marker shall be
a monolithic work
of hand chiseled Stone,
upon which ravens
shall perch
and contemplate the
simplicity of death
as they look to the sun
rising from the fog
on the distant
horizon.
#death
#graveyard
439 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Dec 2019 1:03am
29th Dec 2019 1:03am
Death by Apathy
You know, those cigarettes kill people."
So does old age,
cancer and disease,
drunk drivers and guns,
angry fathers and husbands,
mountain lions and bears,
global warming and smog,
and somewhere
there's a teacup poodle
eating the body of his owner
who just died of a heart attack
after a vigorous night
with a japanese prostitute.
I dont concern myself with death;
least of all, my own.
So does old age,
cancer and disease,
drunk drivers and guns,
angry fathers and husbands,
mountain lions and bears,
global warming and smog,
and somewhere
there's a teacup poodle
eating the body of his owner
who just died of a heart attack
after a vigorous night
with a japanese prostitute.
I dont concern myself with death;
least of all, my own.
#death
#apathy
487 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
26th Dec 2019 4:59am
26th Dec 2019 4:59am
Lesser Now
It’s remarkable how ones essence can
instantly cling to wet surfaces -
refusing to sail with the tide
washing out from shower shores;
forcing me to solution and cloth,
but it mustn't be left and discovered.
It must never be known that I
would sooner find respite in shadow
than part her silken curtains
with evanescent hopes of radiant glory.
It’s not her form; she is - now - as
ravishing as the day I jeweled her finger,
but I can not endure the inevitable
...
instantly cling to wet surfaces -
refusing to sail with the tide
washing out from shower shores;
forcing me to solution and cloth,
but it mustn't be left and discovered.
It must never be known that I
would sooner find respite in shadow
than part her silken curtains
with evanescent hopes of radiant glory.
It’s not her form; she is - now - as
ravishing as the day I jeweled her finger,
but I can not endure the inevitable
...
#disappointment
#relationships
#marriage
533 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
26th Dec 2019 4:19am
26th Dec 2019 4:19am
Network Printers and Anxious Felines
My desk is a boring place.
I sit for
hours scrolling through
long lists of emails and
service requests;
barely enough coffee in
my cup to erase the
blur from my screen.
Ahh, my desk is a
boring place.
There’s a cat on my
calendar that
stares at me in a
perpetual state of nervous
anticipation,
as if awaiting my
next movement
so it might
spring out of view
and...
I sit for
hours scrolling through
long lists of emails and
service requests;
barely enough coffee in
my cup to erase the
blur from my screen.
Ahh, my desk is a
boring place.
There’s a cat on my
calendar that
stares at me in a
perpetual state of nervous
anticipation,
as if awaiting my
next movement
so it might
spring out of view
and...
#boredom
390 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
25th Dec 2019 3:44pm
25th Dec 2019 3:44pm
Triumphant Absurdity
My words have been
held
within the confines
of my head; locked
behind tight iron lips;
bouncing
off the walls of my skull
in wondrous merriment
multiplying
and making new friends
amongst themselves.
Collating in an uprising
of sentences
- nouns and verbs
set aside their differences,
and become one
for one purpose.
They charge the iron gate
that is my clenched jaw,
as I fight...
held
within the confines
of my head; locked
behind tight iron lips;
bouncing
off the walls of my skull
in wondrous merriment
multiplying
and making new friends
amongst themselves.
Collating in an uprising
of sentences
- nouns and verbs
set aside their differences,
and become one
for one purpose.
They charge the iron gate
that is my clenched jaw,
as I fight...
#funny
498 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
25th Dec 2019 3:31pm
25th Dec 2019 3:31pm
Mute
I cut the chords from my throat
presenting them as a gift
in homage to the gods of the citadel
burying my resentment
with the bones of my ancestors.
I ripped the nerves from my face
and offered my apathy
to the wraiths that would prey
on the bitterness of mute lamentation.
I tore the veins from my arm
to free the repressed tears
that flowed like a creek over my wrist
and into a silver phial.
I dipped my quill in the phial
...
presenting them as a gift
in homage to the gods of the citadel
burying my resentment
with the bones of my ancestors.
I ripped the nerves from my face
and offered my apathy
to the wraiths that would prey
on the bitterness of mute lamentation.
I tore the veins from my arm
to free the repressed tears
that flowed like a creek over my wrist
and into a silver phial.
I dipped my quill in the phial
...
#dark
#silence
702 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
24th Dec 2019 8:07pm
24th Dec 2019 8:07pm
Idle
I let night swallow
me whole;
a strange solace
in the waning of my soul,
my tattered form lying
beneath the crimson glow
of the blood moon.
Blind to it's lunar
light, the colors
of the lonesome night
-lost on my eyes
-eclipsed-
as the shadows whisper
through the parting
of my lips
words without meaning,
and apathy resigns
me to idle
daydreaming
me whole;
a strange solace
in the waning of my soul,
my tattered form lying
beneath the crimson glow
of the blood moon.
Blind to it's lunar
light, the colors
of the lonesome night
-lost on my eyes
-eclipsed-
as the shadows whisper
through the parting
of my lips
words without meaning,
and apathy resigns
me to idle
daydreaming
#dark
501 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
24th Dec 2019 7:58pm
24th Dec 2019 7:58pm
-1
I took my broken pain
and laid it in a cradle;
I hid it from the world
in the dark corners
of my secluded dwelling,
caressed it tenderly,
and fed it bite sized bits
of anger and contempt,
until it blossomed
the most beautiful hatred
I have ever known.
It stretched forth vines
-gnarled and twisted-
with barbed thorns
that clung
to my every limb,
enshrouding me in a deep
and comfortable nirvana. ...
and laid it in a cradle;
I hid it from the world
in the dark corners
of my secluded dwelling,
caressed it tenderly,
and fed it bite sized bits
of anger and contempt,
until it blossomed
the most beautiful hatred
I have ever known.
It stretched forth vines
-gnarled and twisted-
with barbed thorns
that clung
to my every limb,
enshrouding me in a deep
and comfortable nirvana. ...
#hate
#dark
456 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by TyrannicalWorm (Nathan A. Brock)
