Submissions by antonee19
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
You don't need to know me. You'll find out enough through my poetry.
SELF POEM
Published
25th Nov 2011 5:51pm
25th Nov 2011 5:51pm
Under the Limelight
Warm and white,
I rest comfortably among the hoi polloi.
It is my abode, my tree house of endless retreats.
If they should not know me, I am to be.
If they define friends amidst me, I am not, no.
They are merely a median, a remote grotto.
Black and cold, I pray of the memories bleak and old.
I lay alone, under a sky with no clouds and dark stars,
A moon is my only understanding, a crescent and a scar.
It will not whisper, no matter how much I plead.
It seems to have no conscious, contrary to my creed.
These days are reserved as a meager...
I rest comfortably among the hoi polloi.
It is my abode, my tree house of endless retreats.
If they should not know me, I am to be.
If they define friends amidst me, I am not, no.
They are merely a median, a remote grotto.
Black and cold, I pray of the memories bleak and old.
I lay alone, under a sky with no clouds and dark stars,
A moon is my only understanding, a crescent and a scar.
It will not whisper, no matter how much I plead.
It seems to have no conscious, contrary to my creed.
These days are reserved as a meager...
597 reads
1 Comment
ANGER POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2011 3:40pm
22nd Nov 2011 3:40pm
Two to Seven, Faithless Brethren
I
Sit
Here
And
Do
Nothing.
I
Think
And
Question,
I
Wait
For
Answers.
People
These
Days,
They
Have
No
Grasp.
Not
To
Be
Misanthropic
Or
Loathing.
But
Take
A
Sugar
Cube
And
Step
On
It,
And
Ants
Will
Come.
Make
A
Tune,
Blast
A
Chord;
The
Ants
Will
Dance
Until
They
Die.
If
I
Were
To
Take
One
Simple
Beat
And
One
Image
And...
Sit
Here
And
Do
Nothing.
I
Think
And
Question,
I
Wait
For
Answers.
People
These
Days,
They
Have
No
Grasp.
Not
To
Be
Misanthropic
Or
Loathing.
But
Take
A
Sugar
Cube
And
Step
On
It,
And
Ants
Will
Come.
Make
A
Tune,
Blast
A
Chord;
The
Ants
Will
Dance
Until
They
Die.
If
I
Were
To
Take
One
Simple
Beat
And
One
Image
And...
575 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2011 2:14am
22nd Nov 2011 2:14am
Peripherilia
The climax of my epiphany never seems to occur.
I start to walk but get tired as soon as my sight’s blurred.
Realization fades away into the deep dusk,
Only to be rediscovered soon enough.
I wish that my emotions could be controlled,
That I could recall cracked memories of young and old.
I wish the absence of a conscience could balance
Into the manifestation of morals.
This soul here is insignificant,
And the mind holding it is unpredictable and belligerent.
My trembling hands only shake because I make them.
The Chrysanthemum petals wilt...
I start to walk but get tired as soon as my sight’s blurred.
Realization fades away into the deep dusk,
Only to be rediscovered soon enough.
I wish that my emotions could be controlled,
That I could recall cracked memories of young and old.
I wish the absence of a conscience could balance
Into the manifestation of morals.
This soul here is insignificant,
And the mind holding it is unpredictable and belligerent.
My trembling hands only shake because I make them.
The Chrysanthemum petals wilt...
556 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
18th Nov 2011 2:45am
18th Nov 2011 2:45am
The Death of Fantasy Green
Scramble down the summit,
Slither along the grains.
Tempt the goddess, master the feign.
Throw your head back in accomplishment.
If we can worship Christ, hold dearly to resentment.
Don’t you dare go near that edge.
It will come to you. Don’t be so restless.
Run around like a dying chicken, broken and headless.
Your feathers will smother the air.
Everything you have to offer is depleted.
Your fuel servers no more purpose than piss.
You have one chance to succeed, one to die then miss.
Either way, trudge mindlessly.
Stumble...
Slither along the grains.
Tempt the goddess, master the feign.
Throw your head back in accomplishment.
If we can worship Christ, hold dearly to resentment.
Don’t you dare go near that edge.
It will come to you. Don’t be so restless.
Run around like a dying chicken, broken and headless.
Your feathers will smother the air.
Everything you have to offer is depleted.
Your fuel servers no more purpose than piss.
You have one chance to succeed, one to die then miss.
Either way, trudge mindlessly.
Stumble...
685 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
13th Nov 2011 6:13pm
13th Nov 2011 6:13pm
Christ Consciousness
Who are you to judge my intent?
Who are you to burn my advent?
Why would you point out my mistakes?
Why would you drink the tonic for my heartache?
If I could, I would ravage you for all you hide,
I would dissect you, until I was forced to know you lied.
I would climb into the deep recesses of your mind,
And pick apart the neurons to see what secrets I could find.
You would let me, I know this,
You would be my only witness,
Because you want me to think I have some upper-hand,
So you can take the floor right under me so I drown in...
Who are you to burn my advent?
Why would you point out my mistakes?
Why would you drink the tonic for my heartache?
If I could, I would ravage you for all you hide,
I would dissect you, until I was forced to know you lied.
I would climb into the deep recesses of your mind,
And pick apart the neurons to see what secrets I could find.
You would let me, I know this,
You would be my only witness,
Because you want me to think I have some upper-hand,
So you can take the floor right under me so I drown in...
562 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
10th Nov 2011 4:08pm
10th Nov 2011 4:08pm
Gehenna
Tripping back and forth through incarnations,
Into the sheol, into the limbo.
I do not rest, I shall not rest.
The horizon fades into the dimensions.
I wish I could get out, once and for all.
The mighty tree, standing before me,
The bloody willow, dancing to my demise.
It resides in my world, in this comedy of paradise.
I walk and stumble and do not eat.
I wish I could get out, once and for all.
Hidden before me, right behind the veil,
Right under my nose, drifting in the shadows.
It is a message, a secret, a little rotting hole,...
Into the sheol, into the limbo.
I do not rest, I shall not rest.
The horizon fades into the dimensions.
I wish I could get out, once and for all.
The mighty tree, standing before me,
The bloody willow, dancing to my demise.
It resides in my world, in this comedy of paradise.
I walk and stumble and do not eat.
I wish I could get out, once and for all.
Hidden before me, right behind the veil,
Right under my nose, drifting in the shadows.
It is a message, a secret, a little rotting hole,...
589 reads
0 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
9th Nov 2011 3:18pm
9th Nov 2011 3:18pm
Beautiful, Sexy Mama, Come Give Your Man Some Sugah.
895 reads
0 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
9th Nov 2011 2:39am
9th Nov 2011 2:39am
Rebirth into Wine
Finally coming down from my last experience.
The smoke was sweet like dew and cold like frost.
My eyes are burning red with elevation.
The only thing I have is a grip on reality.
All the rest is nirvana and serenity.
The hemp makes me grin, the light makes me scared.
I think I’m finally coming down after all this time.
The yellows are amidst the only thing I got left.
And that’s on the brink of fading away into reality.
Finally going up, into Jupiter’s heaven,
Into Hades, into the barren red of mars.
Finally plunging into Neptune’s...
The smoke was sweet like dew and cold like frost.
My eyes are burning red with elevation.
The only thing I have is a grip on reality.
All the rest is nirvana and serenity.
The hemp makes me grin, the light makes me scared.
I think I’m finally coming down after all this time.
The yellows are amidst the only thing I got left.
And that’s on the brink of fading away into reality.
Finally going up, into Jupiter’s heaven,
Into Hades, into the barren red of mars.
Finally plunging into Neptune’s...
673 reads
1 Comment
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
8th Nov 2011 3:24pm
8th Nov 2011 3:24pm
Aureola
Oscillating and spiraling,
Dripping down in dissatisfaction,
Scintillating and reminiscing,
With differing secrets to reveal.
Cowering and phobic,
Twitching with dementia,
Biting off nails, piece by piece,
The split-hair ends of sanity are breaking down.
Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,
This passion is what someone is truly meant to be.
The harbinger of Calypso, the philosopher of Hermes,
Float like a butterfly, on winged boots.
Out into the true unknown,
Ready for the wilderness,
Trekking to the bleak wide open,...
Dripping down in dissatisfaction,
Scintillating and reminiscing,
With differing secrets to reveal.
Cowering and phobic,
Twitching with dementia,
Biting off nails, piece by piece,
The split-hair ends of sanity are breaking down.
Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,
This passion is what someone is truly meant to be.
The harbinger of Calypso, the philosopher of Hermes,
Float like a butterfly, on winged boots.
Out into the true unknown,
Ready for the wilderness,
Trekking to the bleak wide open,...
687 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Nov 2011 00:46am
3rd Nov 2011 00:46am
Libby
Cling on to that dream, with the blood under your fingernails.
Clutch that stick shift, floor that pedal until you crash into a wall.
Sit and stare at the open sky until the sun blinds you into whiteness.
Think and hope, love and wonder…you are the maker of your choices.
Serenity and placidity…security and safety…rest in these comforts,
Before they’re taken from you.
Stride forward, with steps of a giant.
Reign shadows on the earth with your ego.
Keep going to the light, like you’re dying.
If you ever stop, I’ll grab you by the spine and rip it out....
Clutch that stick shift, floor that pedal until you crash into a wall.
Sit and stare at the open sky until the sun blinds you into whiteness.
Think and hope, love and wonder…you are the maker of your choices.
Serenity and placidity…security and safety…rest in these comforts,
Before they’re taken from you.
Stride forward, with steps of a giant.
Reign shadows on the earth with your ego.
Keep going to the light, like you’re dying.
If you ever stop, I’ll grab you by the spine and rip it out....
621 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
31st Oct 2011 1:28am
31st Oct 2011 1:28am
Yahweh and Mephistopheles Are My Brothers. They Fight A Lot. A LOT.
Hades, purgatory,
Shining lights, newfound glory.
Greasy shadows and hoofed feet,
Split-open heads and bloody meat.
Ropes and bullets, knives and guns.
Better get down, son, better fucking run.
You stoop so low you can’t think straight.
You don’t even know the difference between compassion and hate.
I want to befriend you, I want to be your guide.
This is the end of the road, nowhere to hide.
Nowhere to hide.
Nowhere to hide.
You lied.
You fucking lied.
You will bleed green, fantasy.
You are in love with my fruit, my clean.
Shining lights, newfound glory.
Greasy shadows and hoofed feet,
Split-open heads and bloody meat.
Ropes and bullets, knives and guns.
Better get down, son, better fucking run.
You stoop so low you can’t think straight.
You don’t even know the difference between compassion and hate.
I want to befriend you, I want to be your guide.
This is the end of the road, nowhere to hide.
Nowhere to hide.
Nowhere to hide.
You lied.
You fucking lied.
You will bleed green, fantasy.
You are in love with my fruit, my clean.
679 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
30th Oct 2011 9:46pm
30th Oct 2011 9:46pm
Vainglory
Remorseless and with an ill prerogative,
I lack a grudge but I desire one to fulfill.
I need a victim, I need a chance.
But I have no friends to betray.
I have enough hate to stop a bullet,
Enough fire in my heart to burn down a mansion.
Enough moral ground to murder my original sin.
But I lack a grudge.
I’ll get one, I swear, I’ll slaughter every sheep and cow,
Climb every building and jump off them all.
I would whisper in my own ears for days on end,
About desires and things I don’t deserve.
That should fire me up.
Next,...
I lack a grudge but I desire one to fulfill.
I need a victim, I need a chance.
But I have no friends to betray.
I have enough hate to stop a bullet,
Enough fire in my heart to burn down a mansion.
Enough moral ground to murder my original sin.
But I lack a grudge.
I’ll get one, I swear, I’ll slaughter every sheep and cow,
Climb every building and jump off them all.
I would whisper in my own ears for days on end,
About desires and things I don’t deserve.
That should fire me up.
Next,...
650 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by antonee19
