Submissions by gothicsurrealism (Daniel Long)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I have been writing since the age of 10, and still feel the same powerful energy to create a story and to intrigue those who read my work. I write dark, surreal poetry and short stories. I also have several novel manuscripts in the works I hope to publish
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
20th Dec 2018 2:33pm
20th Dec 2018 2:33pm
Psyche of the Dark Poet (Revised)
Oh, what an unsympathetic creature is sanity,
Lurking behind us in its own insanity.
If the dreamlike rays of surrealist art
cannot cast out this relentless foe’s heart,
Our gift of imagination, and will of expressionism,
will ignite this stalking shadow with a vengeance.
I’m proud to be of another psyche.
Our passion’s fire burning brightly.
Without it, would we write with such metaphorical beauty?
That which is Inhered in our inherited genre’s psyche?
I think not,
Look passed the blinding shine to...
Lurking behind us in its own insanity.
If the dreamlike rays of surrealist art
cannot cast out this relentless foe’s heart,
Our gift of imagination, and will of expressionism,
will ignite this stalking shadow with a vengeance.
I’m proud to be of another psyche.
Our passion’s fire burning brightly.
Without it, would we write with such metaphorical beauty?
That which is Inhered in our inherited genre’s psyche?
I think not,
Look passed the blinding shine to...
#dark
#confessional
#LifeAsAWriter #WritingPoetry
#LifeAsAWriter #WritingPoetry
461 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
18th Dec 2018 2:29pm
18th Dec 2018 2:29pm
My Conflict With Schizophrenia
I’ve become a writer to find a truth, buried within me for too long. It’s been screaming deeply within, even sprouting to taste the quenching air it has so longed. Feeding it with my taboo desires, which I’ve chosen to keep hidden from a suspicious world. I cannot stop feeding it, it’s another stomach needing to be filled and stretched, its acid dissolving the virtues inflowing and absorbing the nutrient lust. If I hold these truths to be self-destructive, then maybe I truly am a schizophrenic!
I’ve tried to approach others, but so hesitantly. How could you possibly explain something...
I’ve tried to approach others, but so hesitantly. How could you possibly explain something...
#depression
#confessional
#illness
#MentalHealth
#SelfReflection
593 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
17th Dec 2018 5:10pm
17th Dec 2018 5:10pm
The Agony of Reality
If this is reality, then why does it feel so agonistic to my soul and just?
It is this foul winters’ slapping gust
That wants one to conform their “abnormal” psyche to certainty,
But I want my surrealist mind, and I can only hallucinate the senses of reality.
Can a flame live, breath and burn
In a mold of ice?
I have nowhere else to turn,
The realist world is not very nice.
And why is it when I walk down this surrealist, slush-ridden path
That my shoes don’t damp?
Sometimes I feel it is an innate wrath
When I suffer from...
It is this foul winters’ slapping gust
That wants one to conform their “abnormal” psyche to certainty,
But I want my surrealist mind, and I can only hallucinate the senses of reality.
Can a flame live, breath and burn
In a mold of ice?
I have nowhere else to turn,
The realist world is not very nice.
And why is it when I walk down this surrealist, slush-ridden path
That my shoes don’t damp?
Sometimes I feel it is an innate wrath
When I suffer from...
#confessional
#myself
#SelfReflection #SelfDiscovery
#SelfReflection #SelfDiscovery
494 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Dec 2018 8:29pm
16th Dec 2018 8:29pm
Mirrors
Not a mirror in the room, yet I see myself decay.
Tolerating this no longer, yet I have not much to say!
Now’s the last chance I have before shattering
Around me all the mirrors reality’s erecting.
The shards of mirror; hundreds of reflections
Unveil many dreamy reflections.
Into an icy abyss no more!
Emotionally frigid I am and so sore.
The ground beneath this schizophrenic no deeper
than those who’ve shamed me, for I am beleaguered,
And I alone shame myself.
Self-shame relieves oneself.
...
Tolerating this no longer, yet I have not much to say!
Now’s the last chance I have before shattering
Around me all the mirrors reality’s erecting.
The shards of mirror; hundreds of reflections
Unveil many dreamy reflections.
Into an icy abyss no more!
Emotionally frigid I am and so sore.
The ground beneath this schizophrenic no deeper
than those who’ve shamed me, for I am beleaguered,
And I alone shame myself.
Self-shame relieves oneself.
...
#identity
#confessional
#myself
#SelfReflection
#SelfDiscovery
567 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Dec 2018 4:17pm
16th Dec 2018 4:17pm
The Elegance of Our Sunset
Death shall have a dominion.
Dawn’s birth to day’s life,
Dusk’s decay to the death of night:
Tis’ not our mortal decision.
Youth’s innocent juvenility,
Vitality’s vibrancy,
The elegantly decaying morbidity,
A corpse in the clay of its grave perishing –
The funeral of darkness at moonset.
Morning’s nativity bears us,
Afternoon’s perennial years,
Evening’s eve of death,
Night’s mortality.
Our flowering... we beautiful cherry blossoms!
The senescent years of our ripening,
The weathering of...
Dawn’s birth to day’s life,
Dusk’s decay to the death of night:
Tis’ not our mortal decision.
Youth’s innocent juvenility,
Vitality’s vibrancy,
The elegantly decaying morbidity,
A corpse in the clay of its grave perishing –
The funeral of darkness at moonset.
Morning’s nativity bears us,
Afternoon’s perennial years,
Evening’s eve of death,
Night’s mortality.
Our flowering... we beautiful cherry blossoms!
The senescent years of our ripening,
The weathering of...
#death
#LifeCycle
#aging
640 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
15th Dec 2018 7:53pm
15th Dec 2018 7:53pm
Psyche of the Dark Poet
Sanity is an unsympathetic creature lurking in our blind spots.
If the dusky rays of Gothic art can’t cast out this relentless foe,
Then our gift of imagination and will of expressionism
will ignite its stalking shadow with a vengeance.
I’m proud to be of another psyche.
Without it, would we write
with such metaphorical beauty?
I think not.
In fact,
all these words
would be ordinary.
The hell with ordinary!
I want my head to whirl around without the sense
of what is in front or in back of me.
Can a head...
If the dusky rays of Gothic art can’t cast out this relentless foe,
Then our gift of imagination and will of expressionism
will ignite its stalking shadow with a vengeance.
I’m proud to be of another psyche.
Without it, would we write
with such metaphorical beauty?
I think not.
In fact,
all these words
would be ordinary.
The hell with ordinary!
I want my head to whirl around without the sense
of what is in front or in back of me.
Can a head...
#anxiety
#depression
#LifeStruggles
#MentalHealth
#SelfReflection
727 reads
3 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
15th Dec 2018 2:45am
15th Dec 2018 2:45am
Nurtured By Sorrows in Childhood
Nurtured by sorrows in childhood”
…what the hell does that even mean?
I thought it, I wrote it.
I lived it, I remember it…
A child in darkness puts hell in ovation…
but where was my heaven?
I swear I was touched once then…
by an angel, I think.
I’m not sure, for its face was blackened
in the dimmed basement.
Cold, wet cement walls echoed whining.
Please… please why can’t it be a dream?
My angel, my protector and my hero
you should have been.
Your touch felt kind, caring...
…what the hell does that even mean?
I thought it, I wrote it.
I lived it, I remember it…
A child in darkness puts hell in ovation…
but where was my heaven?
I swear I was touched once then…
by an angel, I think.
I’m not sure, for its face was blackened
in the dimmed basement.
Cold, wet cement walls echoed whining.
Please… please why can’t it be a dream?
My angel, my protector and my hero
you should have been.
Your touch felt kind, caring...
#sadness
#depression
851 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Dec 2018 1:48pm
14th Dec 2018 1:48pm
Much Madness is Divinest Sense
Much madness
is divinest sense –
An eye that hath discerned the severest madness,
according to Emily’s judicious eyes, hath much sense –
The starker lunacy
be equated to divinity –
‘Tis common, unwritten law that we assent common beliefs
And ‘tis uncommon beliefs that common law demurs –
In this, as all overcome,
The stoic few as she will come –
Sanity hath common sanction
Or, you’re forthwith a risk –
Touched by a chain
And bound in shame –
#EmilyDickinson
is divinest sense –
An eye that hath discerned the severest madness,
according to Emily’s judicious eyes, hath much sense –
The starker lunacy
be equated to divinity –
‘Tis common, unwritten law that we assent common beliefs
And ‘tis uncommon beliefs that common law demurs –
In this, as all overcome,
The stoic few as she will come –
Sanity hath common sanction
Or, you’re forthwith a risk –
Touched by a chain
And bound in shame –
#EmilyDickinson
#politics
#freedom
#HumanRights
#ignorance
#feminism
669 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Dec 2018 7:28pm
13th Dec 2018 7:28pm
Icy Reminiscence
Mirrors within your eyes…
Stare tranquilly in ice.
Those fog risen lids…
stilled moments echoing.
Frozen they are…
seasoning affection
nowhere near
to thaw tearcicles.
Stare tranquilly in ice.
Those fog risen lids…
stilled moments echoing.
Frozen they are…
seasoning affection
nowhere near
to thaw tearcicles.
#sadness
#love
#dark
#relationships
#breakup
576 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th Dec 2018 7:26pm
13th Dec 2018 7:26pm
Goth Girl
Black leather boots and shimmering chrome buckles.
Tight leather straps grip her calves,
blanketing a smooth sheet of pale skin.
Her satin purple valerie corset complimenting
her Goth-architecture.
She’ll dance and she’ll surely sing…
…she’ll have to journey with her soul-compass.
This story’s the path one dared to explore…
“I wanna grow to sing…”
she often confided to Father.
“Fools Paradise!” declared Father.
Such little incisions into her dreams
never seem to derail her
off the...
Tight leather straps grip her calves,
blanketing a smooth sheet of pale skin.
Her satin purple valerie corset complimenting
her Goth-architecture.
She’ll dance and she’ll surely sing…
…she’ll have to journey with her soul-compass.
This story’s the path one dared to explore…
“I wanna grow to sing…”
she often confided to Father.
“Fools Paradise!” declared Father.
Such little incisions into her dreams
never seem to derail her
off the...
#dark
#gothic
#emotional
540 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
13th Dec 2018 5:33am
13th Dec 2018 5:33am
Tis' The Hour of Rebirth (Christmas Eve)
Midnight,
An hour for evil to be smite.
The fallen angel said: let there be night!
And God said: let there be light!
Tis’ the hour of His birth,
And the time of our rebirth.
Oh, believers of the heavens,
Tis’ the hour of your redemptions!
To within our souls,
God has sloped his hands over Heaven’s grassy knolls
To cleanse the ink of sin
That too many of our free-wills are stained within.
On the eve of His birth
And the time of our prayer for rebirth,
All the peoples of the Faith...
An hour for evil to be smite.
The fallen angel said: let there be night!
And God said: let there be light!
Tis’ the hour of His birth,
And the time of our rebirth.
Oh, believers of the heavens,
Tis’ the hour of your redemptions!
To within our souls,
God has sloped his hands over Heaven’s grassy knolls
To cleanse the ink of sin
That too many of our free-wills are stained within.
On the eve of His birth
And the time of our prayer for rebirth,
All the peoples of the Faith...
#Christmas
#religion
#God
#Christian
#faith
514 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Dec 2018 4:14am
12th Dec 2018 4:14am
The Tears Not Raining
Two tear-rivers diverged in a dark wood,
And sorry I could not dam it both
And be it I’ve longed to change; I should,
And with parting eyelids, as far as I could
To where I tear in the rain;
Then locked both the eyelids, as just as teary,
And quench perhaps their better cry,
Because it was thundery, and wanted misery;
Though as for that within the passing the rain I was sly
Had falling tear-showers really be from the sinking sky,
And both his eyes on the world equally keen...
And sorry I could not dam it both
And be it I’ve longed to change; I should,
And with parting eyelids, as far as I could
To where I tear in the rain;
Then locked both the eyelids, as just as teary,
And quench perhaps their better cry,
Because it was thundery, and wanted misery;
Though as for that within the passing the rain I was sly
Had falling tear-showers really be from the sinking sky,
And both his eyes on the world equally keen...
#sadness
628 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by gothicsurrealism (Daniel Long)
