Submissions by Xavier-Earl-Jones1
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I still wonder if somewhere there is a place where I don't do this and everything has a meaning I understand.
SELF POEM
Published
24th Aug 2013 8:50pm
24th Aug 2013 8:50pm
The beckoning remnants
My mother’s friend lived near a perfume factory.
Her well kept garden smelt of a hundred cashmere cardigans...
Worn by old ladies with merry cheeks
And milky eyes
Knitting crochet lovingly
Hold me
I would climb the apple tree
To try to reach the sky
And catch the pale blue sapphire
gleaming,
on a golden pinwheel, spinning.
How a rose can smell so sweetly
When the scent is not its own.
I could have stayed
Instead we would leave,
To drive home in the car ...
Her well kept garden smelt of a hundred cashmere cardigans...
Worn by old ladies with merry cheeks
And milky eyes
Knitting crochet lovingly
Hold me
I would climb the apple tree
To try to reach the sky
And catch the pale blue sapphire
gleaming,
on a golden pinwheel, spinning.
How a rose can smell so sweetly
When the scent is not its own.
I could have stayed
Instead we would leave,
To drive home in the car ...
572 reads
3 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
22nd Aug 2013 11:32pm
22nd Aug 2013 11:32pm
Dark Humour
Thunder claps;
and seems to applaud the hilarity of life's joke,
but it's resonance is somewhat strained.
This pun is too true for the laughter to last.
So it concedes to brood within it's deception,
feigning subsidence until some darker comedy comes about.
And I am that.
For even the dead must spread lifeless grins at my expense
and the condemned shake sympathetic heads at my demise.
If not, then the psychotic audience in my head
must be happy in their solitude.
Otherwise why would they continue to poke and prod
at a life...
and seems to applaud the hilarity of life's joke,
but it's resonance is somewhat strained.
This pun is too true for the laughter to last.
So it concedes to brood within it's deception,
feigning subsidence until some darker comedy comes about.
And I am that.
For even the dead must spread lifeless grins at my expense
and the condemned shake sympathetic heads at my demise.
If not, then the psychotic audience in my head
must be happy in their solitude.
Otherwise why would they continue to poke and prod
at a life...
617 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
22nd Aug 2013 9:17pm
22nd Aug 2013 9:17pm
Far away
There is a man on a hill
far away
by the sea.
With no boats on the waves or birds in the trees.
He sits on a bench that is close to the edge
he can see up above and below from his ledge.
He can see to the left
to the right
and beyond
and of sitting alone on his ledge he is fond.
He sits through the wind and the rain and the snow,
for this is a man with nowhere to go.
He covets the birds as he watches them fly
and looks to the sky as to ponder the why.
The beard that he wears is tangled and long
much in need of a wash let...
far away
by the sea.
With no boats on the waves or birds in the trees.
He sits on a bench that is close to the edge
he can see up above and below from his ledge.
He can see to the left
to the right
and beyond
and of sitting alone on his ledge he is fond.
He sits through the wind and the rain and the snow,
for this is a man with nowhere to go.
He covets the birds as he watches them fly
and looks to the sky as to ponder the why.
The beard that he wears is tangled and long
much in need of a wash let...
672 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
22nd Aug 2013 12:30pm
22nd Aug 2013 12:30pm
Ecarlate Lune
I walk the streets most times at night
Through the limpid pools of light
Trees cast veins upon my face.
Night,
Is such a silent place.
All the better so to hear demons whisper in my ear
Chuckle dryly on my face,
As my thoughts keep even pace.
Phantom shadows dart and wheel
And my soul does cease to feel,
Part and portion
Shard and seam
Of my mortal mirrors gleam
Damned is my soul to all possession
To attend the nights confession
For morality knows not in all the things it does confide;
To the voyeur of humanity
The...
Through the limpid pools of light
Trees cast veins upon my face.
Night,
Is such a silent place.
All the better so to hear demons whisper in my ear
Chuckle dryly on my face,
As my thoughts keep even pace.
Phantom shadows dart and wheel
And my soul does cease to feel,
Part and portion
Shard and seam
Of my mortal mirrors gleam
Damned is my soul to all possession
To attend the nights confession
For morality knows not in all the things it does confide;
To the voyeur of humanity
The...
724 reads
3 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
22nd Aug 2013 11:21am
22nd Aug 2013 11:21am
HIgh and Dry
So far below
is the foaming sea.
To place my soul in sanctuary.
To float away upon the waves,
to learn to live within the caves.
A single step
A final bound
For just both feet to leave the ground.
And never touch it's soil again
for now I leave to join my friends.
A mournful wind depletes the mist
the sky is low
the clouds resist.
They strain with tears of absent friends,
and as they fall my own begin.
To sob, to cry;
to shed a tear.
A lifeless droplet
empty sphere.
What does it mean when they are...
is the foaming sea.
To place my soul in sanctuary.
To float away upon the waves,
to learn to live within the caves.
A single step
A final bound
For just both feet to leave the ground.
And never touch it's soil again
for now I leave to join my friends.
A mournful wind depletes the mist
the sky is low
the clouds resist.
They strain with tears of absent friends,
and as they fall my own begin.
To sob, to cry;
to shed a tear.
A lifeless droplet
empty sphere.
What does it mean when they are...
514 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
21st Aug 2013 10:45pm
21st Aug 2013 10:45pm
Bad place
Slap me hard in the face
I'm in a bad place.
Bloodstains on me
Handprints from the rage that wrought me
the struggle that this life has brought me
Demonized
My tears are glass shards
That leave me red.
The streets are paved with hate and malice
I drink and drain this poison chalice
It fills my veins
To bring me back again
Slap me hard in the face
I need a taste
Of the pain I've inflicted
the life that I evicted; violently
They never lie silently
My tears are glass shards
That...
I'm in a bad place.
Bloodstains on me
Handprints from the rage that wrought me
the struggle that this life has brought me
Demonized
My tears are glass shards
That leave me red.
The streets are paved with hate and malice
I drink and drain this poison chalice
It fills my veins
To bring me back again
Slap me hard in the face
I need a taste
Of the pain I've inflicted
the life that I evicted; violently
They never lie silently
My tears are glass shards
That...
655 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Aug 2013 10:32pm
21st Aug 2013 10:32pm
Journey me
In times like this when silence reigns there is no meaning...
When the void is warmer than the candlelight that feebly lights the walls of the cell and
confines
confines, false truth,
no freedom. This place where me and I
reside.
These four walls I push
Confines
confines
there is no freedom
confined to earth, to breath
to soil in death
there is no freedom,
confines
These four walls I push
Trapped in motions drawn by sorrow
anchored to indifference by personality
society blames itself
confines...
When the void is warmer than the candlelight that feebly lights the walls of the cell and
confines
confines, false truth,
no freedom. This place where me and I
reside.
These four walls I push
Confines
confines
there is no freedom
confined to earth, to breath
to soil in death
there is no freedom,
confines
These four walls I push
Trapped in motions drawn by sorrow
anchored to indifference by personality
society blames itself
confines...
727 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
21st Aug 2013 1:07am
21st Aug 2013 1:07am
The memory of substance
944 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Xavier-Earl-Jones1
