Submissions by adamsmiller
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Id Monster.
SELF POEM
Published
2nd Feb 2021 11:32pm
2nd Feb 2021 11:32pm
The All or Nothing Days
Age fueled delusions
A slow study in giving up control
The illusion of self
Turning inward on itself
I serve the machines in gods head
Dying at the palpit
Not sure what else to do
Fading voices
The background noise a lullaby
I barely sleep at all
Go ahead,
Tell me it was better back then
“You don’t know, you don’t know!”
remember feeling phony depth?
Hours on the floor trying to articulate the ceiling tiles
These are truly the days
The all or nothing days
Stripped of youthful hubris
I...
A slow study in giving up control
The illusion of self
Turning inward on itself
I serve the machines in gods head
Dying at the palpit
Not sure what else to do
Fading voices
The background noise a lullaby
I barely sleep at all
Go ahead,
Tell me it was better back then
“You don’t know, you don’t know!”
remember feeling phony depth?
Hours on the floor trying to articulate the ceiling tiles
These are truly the days
The all or nothing days
Stripped of youthful hubris
I...
#LifeStruggles
#SelfReflection
#meditation
335 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
10th Feb 2018 1:59am
10th Feb 2018 1:59am
Black Constellation
The movements that have shaped my life will awkwardly act as the final inscription, halfheartedly, floating above the frenzied rivers of my whispering childhood. Where one day my ashes will oscillate anxiously, burdened by the inevitable collapse of a cosmic rhythm we all share.
480 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Dec 2017 4:12am
17th Dec 2017 4:12am
Coughing Blood
the words drowning between two vectors
an attempt to regain a moment lost
carrying zero as the last echo before the fall
organizing bones in wayward constellations
black faces burning in the cities
assaults on floating prisons
producing dead children
we have abandoned ourselves
to nihilism
and ignited
the new vulture wars
humanity a rotting corpse
left to bake in the hot afternoon sun of inertia
an attempt to regain a moment lost
carrying zero as the last echo before the fall
organizing bones in wayward constellations
black faces burning in the cities
assaults on floating prisons
producing dead children
we have abandoned ourselves
to nihilism
and ignited
the new vulture wars
humanity a rotting corpse
left to bake in the hot afternoon sun of inertia
546 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
17th Dec 2017 4:04am
17th Dec 2017 4:04am
Train Talk
The trains take turns howling
Their voices strained and void
of empathy
Destitute wanderers and those mourning the old world
Flood the darkness near rivers and abandoned warehouses
Their hunger akin to the piranhas paranoia
A frenzied feeding at midnight
Each of the railroad cars screeched and murmured
the stench of progress hot on their breath
wheels winding whispers into lost minutes
digging claws down
deep
into earth
and clay
the moon stumbles drunkenly
and predictably into view
I...
Their voices strained and void
of empathy
Destitute wanderers and those mourning the old world
Flood the darkness near rivers and abandoned warehouses
Their hunger akin to the piranhas paranoia
A frenzied feeding at midnight
Each of the railroad cars screeched and murmured
the stench of progress hot on their breath
wheels winding whispers into lost minutes
digging claws down
deep
into earth
and clay
the moon stumbles drunkenly
and predictably into view
I...
529 reads
1 Comment
DRUGS POEM
Published
10th Jul 2017 7:11am
10th Jul 2017 7:11am
Maer Deht
Eyelids stapled to maroon moonless sky
A thought, barely formed—
impregnating feeble synapses
Feral visions permuting arenas of amplified social vivisection
Footing deliberately idiosyncratic against the soft whispers of desperation
Lifted veil stuttering discordant doomsday hymns
congregants praying for nuclear gods
quivering to be martyrs
stampede of egos rushing towards gates of Valhalla
specters of primal provocation
bending linear torrents underground
buried cities profuse growth...
A thought, barely formed—
impregnating feeble synapses
Feral visions permuting arenas of amplified social vivisection
Footing deliberately idiosyncratic against the soft whispers of desperation
Lifted veil stuttering discordant doomsday hymns
congregants praying for nuclear gods
quivering to be martyrs
stampede of egos rushing towards gates of Valhalla
specters of primal provocation
bending linear torrents underground
buried cities profuse growth...
635 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
17th Mar 2017 7:42pm
17th Mar 2017 7:42pm
Dust
Found this old relic going through an old blog, wrote it 6 years ago today
In my spine
I bear the weight of youthful days
The hours taking turns as they slowly peel back my skin
A series of twenty-four sacrificial ceremonies
A serial propagation of days into years
Within this system of seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks:
I remember things
Like
Giant women
With hearts in various shapes and sizes
Some were road side bombs
And some ladybugs on the curves of my memories
Some had soft intentional gazes
And some banged...
In my spine
I bear the weight of youthful days
The hours taking turns as they slowly peel back my skin
A series of twenty-four sacrificial ceremonies
A serial propagation of days into years
Within this system of seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks:
I remember things
Like
Giant women
With hearts in various shapes and sizes
Some were road side bombs
And some ladybugs on the curves of my memories
Some had soft intentional gazes
And some banged...
670 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Mar 2017 3:11am
12th Mar 2017 3:11am
Apogee
Down tiny flights of stairs
the gears and cogs of cognition
barrel dreamlessly into the
sodden hours of labor
transition a new verbal tradition
clawing at the synaptic slave trade
ribbons destroyed in their auditory systems
a call to arms, a silent struggle
at midnight the mind melds moonless
and shapeless across the horizon
on the wings of decay
where humanity finds it's purpose.
the gears and cogs of cognition
barrel dreamlessly into the
sodden hours of labor
transition a new verbal tradition
clawing at the synaptic slave trade
ribbons destroyed in their auditory systems
a call to arms, a silent struggle
at midnight the mind melds moonless
and shapeless across the horizon
on the wings of decay
where humanity finds it's purpose.
566 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
25th Jul 2016 8:57pm
25th Jul 2016 8:57pm
Veritas
Grown over like so many distant lullabies
The coarsest coastline
crystallized in my daydreams
I am the last gasping salmon
struggling upstream
Desperate for war
on sandy shorelines
In eyes of crab nebula nerve ended eulogies
we ferret lessons clawed into our sleepy spines
Flee the cities
and live to regret your life
Because you don't get back what's unused
Avoid the stones that serve
to grind away every last inch
until there's nothing left
but the memory of youth
Clotted sewers baring
a million...
The coarsest coastline
crystallized in my daydreams
I am the last gasping salmon
struggling upstream
Desperate for war
on sandy shorelines
In eyes of crab nebula nerve ended eulogies
we ferret lessons clawed into our sleepy spines
Flee the cities
and live to regret your life
Because you don't get back what's unused
Avoid the stones that serve
to grind away every last inch
until there's nothing left
but the memory of youth
Clotted sewers baring
a million...
684 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th May 2016 3:30am
28th May 2016 3:30am
Toilet
It's late and the beer is in me now
I dimmed the lights hours ago to see less of
the nightmare
And the only sound comes from the toilet
That runs, and runs, and runs
If I could count the smokestacks
buried beneath the living room rug
I'm sure the doctors wouldn't believe me
the damn dirty dogs
howling at the moon
my curiosity bellows
something fierce
I quiet for a moment
to pay my respects to
daybreak
it's funny how
the martyrs always ring the bell
right before the audience
sees their ass
...
I dimmed the lights hours ago to see less of
the nightmare
And the only sound comes from the toilet
That runs, and runs, and runs
If I could count the smokestacks
buried beneath the living room rug
I'm sure the doctors wouldn't believe me
the damn dirty dogs
howling at the moon
my curiosity bellows
something fierce
I quiet for a moment
to pay my respects to
daybreak
it's funny how
the martyrs always ring the bell
right before the audience
sees their ass
...
684 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Mar 2016 5:24pm
17th Mar 2016 5:24pm
Monuments of Monotony
I'm on the toilet
she walks out of the bedroom
kid asleep behind her
The bathroom door is open
I'm in it
She sees me
tells me to close the door before I flush,
For the hundredth time.
I express my contempt for being
told how to take a shit
I'm irritated.
She goes into the kitchen to eat.
five minutes of silence
then: "YOU'RE A FUCKIN PRICK, JUST SO YOU KNOW!"
I'm silent
Unusual for me.
She continues to eat
standing at the kitchen counter,
In total silence....
she walks out of the bedroom
kid asleep behind her
The bathroom door is open
I'm in it
She sees me
tells me to close the door before I flush,
For the hundredth time.
I express my contempt for being
told how to take a shit
I'm irritated.
She goes into the kitchen to eat.
five minutes of silence
then: "YOU'RE A FUCKIN PRICK, JUST SO YOU KNOW!"
I'm silent
Unusual for me.
She continues to eat
standing at the kitchen counter,
In total silence....
662 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
21st Jan 2016 2:24pm
21st Jan 2016 2:24pm
Discord
There is no freedom
in the curvature of
another person's
body
Bound by promises
unspoken
but laid down
in seminal fluids
A quiet respite from
the cacophonies of
man's machinery
Drowned bodies
lining cobblestone
streets in the
moonlight of twenty years
from now
I spread my hands over
stubborn seas, trembling so
violently
that the tide breaks pattern
and rises to meet me
Frozen tundra stiff
and screaming atonal
tirades at the stars
Delineated lines indelibly
drawn...
in the curvature of
another person's
body
Bound by promises
unspoken
but laid down
in seminal fluids
A quiet respite from
the cacophonies of
man's machinery
Drowned bodies
lining cobblestone
streets in the
moonlight of twenty years
from now
I spread my hands over
stubborn seas, trembling so
violently
that the tide breaks pattern
and rises to meet me
Frozen tundra stiff
and screaming atonal
tirades at the stars
Delineated lines indelibly
drawn...
770 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Aug 2014 8:10pm
30th Aug 2014 8:10pm
Bad Moon Wanting
Barrel gaze leveled
stuttering deep forest growth
Forgiving
no one
Loathed for words
spilled during viscous
violence
Greif a symptom
born systematic
in utero
Listen to the lies
percussing ubiquitous
Syllabic steel plates pressed
into every last pinhole
reminding flesh to back
away
slowly
The skyline dancing
in so many
distant caverns
Wherein the body quiets
a
dense dead rock
never forgiven
but forgotten
without
end
stuttering deep forest growth
Forgiving
no one
Loathed for words
spilled during viscous
violence
Greif a symptom
born systematic
in utero
Listen to the lies
percussing ubiquitous
Syllabic steel plates pressed
into every last pinhole
reminding flesh to back
away
slowly
The skyline dancing
in so many
distant caverns
Wherein the body quiets
a
dense dead rock
never forgiven
but forgotten
without
end
674 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by adamsmiller
