Submissions by brickhardpoetry (Larry)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SELF POEM
Published
12th Dec 2009 1:40pm
12th Dec 2009 1:40pm
Miscellaneous
The trouble with me...
Well, where do I begin?
Like a pornstar's penis,
I just don't fit in.
I tried my hardest,
But I tried in vain,
Like a pornstar's penis,
All I bring is pain.
Fallen away,
From the ideal of perfection,
Like a pornstar's penis,
I have no protection.
Spiralling down,
The long-forgotten,
Like a pornstar's penis,
I've just hit the bottom.
Like a pornstar's penis,
All I watch is porn,
I'm sad and unhappy,
Just watching porn.
Well, where do I begin?
Like a pornstar's penis,
I just don't fit in.
I tried my hardest,
But I tried in vain,
Like a pornstar's penis,
All I bring is pain.
Fallen away,
From the ideal of perfection,
Like a pornstar's penis,
I have no protection.
Spiralling down,
The long-forgotten,
Like a pornstar's penis,
I've just hit the bottom.
Like a pornstar's penis,
All I watch is porn,
I'm sad and unhappy,
Just watching porn.
876 reads
2 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
2nd Dec 2009 9:09pm
2nd Dec 2009 9:09pm
Pissed
I'll have a stiff one.'
The fat man behind me chuckles.
I turn round and punch his fat head.
'It's not funny, I'm an alcoholic!'
He falls on the floor, crying,
And I feel like I'm in Fight Club.
Then I drink some more whisky,
And get pissed.
The fat man behind me chuckles.
I turn round and punch his fat head.
'It's not funny, I'm an alcoholic!'
He falls on the floor, crying,
And I feel like I'm in Fight Club.
Then I drink some more whisky,
And get pissed.
897 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
29th Nov 2009 6:07pm
29th Nov 2009 6:07pm
Deep Cleanse
I look down,
Into myself.
I pull back the skin;
The stench of the unclean rises.
Purple human flesh.
I reach in and grasp,
As pain shoots through me;
Fingers running through the filth.
I pull away,
But feel resistance.
All that is rotten within,
Is scoured away,
Eventually.
Yellow and accrid.
For now I am cleansed;
But the filth will be back,
Accumulating always.
So on another day,
I'll be looking down,
Deep cleansing,
Once more.
Into myself.
I pull back the skin;
The stench of the unclean rises.
Purple human flesh.
I reach in and grasp,
As pain shoots through me;
Fingers running through the filth.
I pull away,
But feel resistance.
All that is rotten within,
Is scoured away,
Eventually.
Yellow and accrid.
For now I am cleansed;
But the filth will be back,
Accumulating always.
So on another day,
I'll be looking down,
Deep cleansing,
Once more.
667 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
29th Nov 2009 5:59pm
29th Nov 2009 5:59pm
Pilgrimage to The World's End
My feet shuffling through the decaying ash,
In snowshoes made of human bone;
The post-apocalyptic rhumba.
I'm on a walk, man.
With my walkman on.
'The Streets' came on shuffle.
I'm listening to 'The Streets,'
Whilst I'm walking through the streets.
I notice the coincidence.
I wonder if this has happened before.
Maybe,
I could have been listening to 'Blue,'
And saw something blue?
It's quite possible.
Lot's of things are blue.
In snowshoes made of human bone;
The post-apocalyptic rhumba.
I'm on a walk, man.
With my walkman on.
'The Streets' came on shuffle.
I'm listening to 'The Streets,'
Whilst I'm walking through the streets.
I notice the coincidence.
I wonder if this has happened before.
Maybe,
I could have been listening to 'Blue,'
And saw something blue?
It's quite possible.
Lot's of things are blue.
629 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
26th Nov 2009 11:28pm
26th Nov 2009 11:28pm
Homeless
When I was seventeen,
The anoraked man approached me,
Two pound a month,'
'For the homeless.'
I'm saving up for Uni,
Though I very much believe in your cause.
I walk away,
Leaving the anorak;
Still,
Behind me.
When I was twenty two,
Jobless.
The recession bit us hard.
Anoraks around me on the cold street;
'The homeless are dying,'
'Two pound a month.'
Apologies,
I would find it queer,
To give away the governments money,
But when I have a job...
The rain lashes the anoraks.
As I take leave.
When I...
The anoraked man approached me,
Two pound a month,'
'For the homeless.'
I'm saving up for Uni,
Though I very much believe in your cause.
I walk away,
Leaving the anorak;
Still,
Behind me.
When I was twenty two,
Jobless.
The recession bit us hard.
Anoraks around me on the cold street;
'The homeless are dying,'
'Two pound a month.'
Apologies,
I would find it queer,
To give away the governments money,
But when I have a job...
The rain lashes the anoraks.
As I take leave.
When I...
824 reads
3 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
26th Nov 2009 10:54pm
26th Nov 2009 10:54pm
Head
Here sit I,
My head on the desk.
It's an old desk.
It splinters my chin,
And fixes my head to it,
So I can't move.
All I can do is watch.
Watch the sinking ship.
All the crewman laughing,
As their mouths and lungs fill with pissy water.
I'm not laughing;
I'm just watching.
Watching the time hemhorrage;
Bleeding down,
From the trunk of the mighty oak,
As it gets axed.
Some people smirk,
Others gawp, some cry.
'It was the last tree',
They say.
As I'm watching,
I feel my eye move it's socket....
My head on the desk.
It's an old desk.
It splinters my chin,
And fixes my head to it,
So I can't move.
All I can do is watch.
Watch the sinking ship.
All the crewman laughing,
As their mouths and lungs fill with pissy water.
I'm not laughing;
I'm just watching.
Watching the time hemhorrage;
Bleeding down,
From the trunk of the mighty oak,
As it gets axed.
Some people smirk,
Others gawp, some cry.
'It was the last tree',
They say.
As I'm watching,
I feel my eye move it's socket....
771 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by brickhardpoetry (Larry)
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