Submissions by ilovescarystories
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
When you find yourself all alone. In the dead of night, that's where you will find me. My echo will calm you, my tongue will soothe you. I'm all that is dark, and all that is gone. I am all that is light, and all that is night.
DARK POEM
Published
6th Jan 2016 4:38am
6th Jan 2016 4:38am
The Painting of Death
O, Death
His blood is spread across the walls.
Harsh brush strokes of tar.
Bubbles of paint that stay on the top
O, Death
Fear his chime as his features come to life.
Better paint faster says the voice in your head.
Throwing a bucket of paint at the man who comes.
But oh no, the black paint creaks through the cracks.
His lips do but cross across your wall.
O death!
He comes closer.
Mark him I say.
His bubbly tar falling on your floor.
His white pale eyes gazing back at you.
For he is death.
As he stands,...
His blood is spread across the walls.
Harsh brush strokes of tar.
Bubbles of paint that stay on the top
O, Death
Fear his chime as his features come to life.
Better paint faster says the voice in your head.
Throwing a bucket of paint at the man who comes.
But oh no, the black paint creaks through the cracks.
His lips do but cross across your wall.
O death!
He comes closer.
Mark him I say.
His bubbly tar falling on your floor.
His white pale eyes gazing back at you.
For he is death.
As he stands,...
681 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2015 4:10pm
22nd Dec 2015 4:10pm
Lodged with him
Scenario 3
Lodged with him
Lodged with him.
He sits in the corner on his weakened bed.
He plays with his little doll.
He lays down on his bleeding ear.
He holds his dagger.
He flips his hair.
I watch and wait in the other corridor.
I stare at him through a peeking hole.
Never do I stop.
I watch him change, I watch him brush his hair, read his books .
I wait and watch.
I wait for him to drop his book and meet his eyes with mine.
As he stands and gazes out the window.
I slowly crack open the door. ...
Lodged with him
Lodged with him.
He sits in the corner on his weakened bed.
He plays with his little doll.
He lays down on his bleeding ear.
He holds his dagger.
He flips his hair.
I watch and wait in the other corridor.
I stare at him through a peeking hole.
Never do I stop.
I watch him change, I watch him brush his hair, read his books .
I wait and watch.
I wait for him to drop his book and meet his eyes with mine.
As he stands and gazes out the window.
I slowly crack open the door. ...
638 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
27th Oct 2015 00:00am
27th Oct 2015 00:00am
Roses Are Red, Violets Are Dead
Roses are red, violets are dead.
Roses are red, that's what they say when the blood goes their way.
Violets are blue and so are you.
Red are the roses.
Blue is the sky.
But at least we tried.
Violets are dead.
Gone is the bread.
That's what we read.
They is for me .
Me is for them.
Then again what does it matter?
Since all of the violets are dead.
Since all the red is stale bread.
So here we are closing our show.
Our breed is red, and our old sue soul is blue.
Roses are red, that's what they say when the blood goes their way.
Violets are blue and so are you.
Red are the roses.
Blue is the sky.
But at least we tried.
Violets are dead.
Gone is the bread.
That's what we read.
They is for me .
Me is for them.
Then again what does it matter?
Since all of the violets are dead.
Since all the red is stale bread.
So here we are closing our show.
Our breed is red, and our old sue soul is blue.
708 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
26th Oct 2015 4:50pm
26th Oct 2015 4:50pm
Cancer
Growing deep inside.
Here I am.
Can you remove me?
Here I dwell and here I swell.
Eating at your lungs, until I turn your heart.
Crawling on your brain, resting eggs on you.
Spreading through out your blood.
I control every muscel.
Every motion.
Every vessel.
You choke up words but I flush them out.
I turn your insides all dark.
I make your heart explode like mushy pus.
I lay on your back, I stand on your shoulders.
I destroy your family.
I make you drink your own blood.
Here I grow.
With no dreams I watch you....
Here I am.
Can you remove me?
Here I dwell and here I swell.
Eating at your lungs, until I turn your heart.
Crawling on your brain, resting eggs on you.
Spreading through out your blood.
I control every muscel.
Every motion.
Every vessel.
You choke up words but I flush them out.
I turn your insides all dark.
I make your heart explode like mushy pus.
I lay on your back, I stand on your shoulders.
I destroy your family.
I make you drink your own blood.
Here I grow.
With no dreams I watch you....
684 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
21st Oct 2015 5:15am
21st Oct 2015 5:15am
Gods Intention
Was it Gods intention, or the devils curse?
When the roses have bloomed in mud.
And was the world always spinning around the sun?
Or as they once said the sun revolts around the world?
Or does the earth revolt around the moon.
When it revolts around darkness when do the flowers bloom?
Are all roses bloomed in mud?
If they are.
Then what makes world any less darker?
In the end, the main question is will everything be alright?
And will everyone bloom in the dark?
And if the light only comes in light.
Then how are fire lilies made?...
When the roses have bloomed in mud.
And was the world always spinning around the sun?
Or as they once said the sun revolts around the world?
Or does the earth revolt around the moon.
When it revolts around darkness when do the flowers bloom?
Are all roses bloomed in mud?
If they are.
Then what makes world any less darker?
In the end, the main question is will everything be alright?
And will everyone bloom in the dark?
And if the light only comes in light.
Then how are fire lilies made?...
611 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
24th Sep 2015 10:00pm
24th Sep 2015 10:00pm
You Greedy Bastards
Look at them, with their thick iron claws.
I came with a cup of water in the desert.
I came with a bit of meat in my hair.
For these greedy birds would eat their own young if they could.
And look how they flew! look how they come!
They swirl their tongues.
They stretch their bellies.
They crawl like snakes.
like a night terror they fly.
They reach their hands for my water.
Too many hands touched such grace.
I couldn't save...
For every last drop burned and smoked...
The wrapped their hot breaths around me in the...
I came with a cup of water in the desert.
I came with a bit of meat in my hair.
For these greedy birds would eat their own young if they could.
And look how they flew! look how they come!
They swirl their tongues.
They stretch their bellies.
They crawl like snakes.
like a night terror they fly.
They reach their hands for my water.
Too many hands touched such grace.
I couldn't save...
For every last drop burned and smoked...
The wrapped their hot breaths around me in the...
658 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
19th Sep 2015 3:46pm
19th Sep 2015 3:46pm
If the world never ran out
The waters will never go muddy.
The skies will never go cloudy.
The trees will be evergreen.
The waters are clear.
The animals are festive.
The people are in the surplus.
And it's a brotherhood of humans.
But the factories won't stop pumping.
The waters must be filtered.
The gold has gone stale.
There is no value.
Lands are all conquered.
But knights still fight.
The surplus of water floods all the towns.
The world is cracked from all of the weight.
The people search for their king only to see he has been...
The skies will never go cloudy.
The trees will be evergreen.
The waters are clear.
The animals are festive.
The people are in the surplus.
And it's a brotherhood of humans.
But the factories won't stop pumping.
The waters must be filtered.
The gold has gone stale.
There is no value.
Lands are all conquered.
But knights still fight.
The surplus of water floods all the towns.
The world is cracked from all of the weight.
The people search for their king only to see he has been...
703 reads
3 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
17th Aug 2015 5:19am
17th Aug 2015 5:19am
A few drops of cyanide
My name is Blakely, I was born in a small farm in Boston.
My address isn't included.
My life is nothing short of a crime.
My room nothing short of a cell.
My life is just in hell.
A photo of her is all I have left.
Since all memories, are just
nightmares in the form of roses.
And I must find the way.
And I guess you can say, that's why I painted a door on my wall.
Yes, that is why I painted a blood door on my wall.
And that's why my soul decided to fall.
When the candy man opened it.
I knew he let me...
My address isn't included.
My life is nothing short of a crime.
My room nothing short of a cell.
My life is just in hell.
A photo of her is all I have left.
Since all memories, are just
nightmares in the form of roses.
And I must find the way.
And I guess you can say, that's why I painted a door on my wall.
Yes, that is why I painted a blood door on my wall.
And that's why my soul decided to fall.
When the candy man opened it.
I knew he let me...
681 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
3rd Aug 2015 2:46am
3rd Aug 2015 2:46am
We never were
You never loved me..
And if you did why would leave me here.
And if you did, why is it you never talk to me?
And if you did, why are all your tears for me your packaged up lie.
You never cared...
You never loved...
We never were...
You never said goodbye.
You couldn't even if you tried.
And I Never Loved YOU!
And if you did why would leave me here.
And if you did, why is it you never talk to me?
And if you did, why are all your tears for me your packaged up lie.
You never cared...
You never loved...
We never were...
You never said goodbye.
You couldn't even if you tried.
And I Never Loved YOU!
776 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
31st Jul 2015 8:16pm
31st Jul 2015 8:16pm
Nobody will...
Help us, otherwise no one will.
We are all outcasts, nobody listens to our cries.
Somebody save us, because here in the darkness, you can hear the whispers in the night.
When you paint with your soul, nobody will know your meaning.
And when you live on a hill.
All you will hear are the whispers of the night.
Where you can play your music and no one will listen.
Where you can dance and nobody will glance at your faults.
The only problem is... When you live on a hill, you will live alone.
We are all outcasts, nobody listens to our cries.
Somebody save us, because here in the darkness, you can hear the whispers in the night.
When you paint with your soul, nobody will know your meaning.
And when you live on a hill.
All you will hear are the whispers of the night.
Where you can play your music and no one will listen.
Where you can dance and nobody will glance at your faults.
The only problem is... When you live on a hill, you will live alone.
659 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
27th Jul 2015 6:16am
27th Jul 2015 6:16am
Shellie's Hell
Turn left maybe there's a dead body down there.
turn right and you will surely say goodbye
Strain the blood from the stab wounds.
Tie, tie, dig, dig for little Shelly choked on a fig.
Twisting guts.
Crawling flies.
Run! Run away! Little Shelly
Turn right for you will enter her hell.
How the chains fade...
How the faces are painted.
Hot oil that pours.
Boils and sores.
Run! Run away for death lies
How the maggots feast, and the demons dine.
On unholy flesh this much is true.
Come away! For hell lies
For heaven lies...
turn right and you will surely say goodbye
Strain the blood from the stab wounds.
Tie, tie, dig, dig for little Shelly choked on a fig.
Twisting guts.
Crawling flies.
Run! Run away! Little Shelly
Turn right for you will enter her hell.
How the chains fade...
How the faces are painted.
Hot oil that pours.
Boils and sores.
Run! Run away for death lies
How the maggots feast, and the demons dine.
On unholy flesh this much is true.
Come away! For hell lies
For heaven lies...
578 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th Jul 2015 2:42am
27th Jul 2015 2:42am
I ain't no poet
Every word is a time drawn threw.
Every mumble you hear in the dark were your one thoughts.
Don't you know that dreams are made from concrete?
If I were a poet, I would write my own story.
I would recite a word, confess my heart.
Tell if the things I want.
I'd taste the salt and wind.
Swim in the ocean, I'd fall into the sea.
I'd paint the clouds with my heart.
And I'd do it all while dreaming.
But as I know, I was never meant to dance.
I was never meant to write.
There's a new way of talking.
There's a new way of speaking....
Every mumble you hear in the dark were your one thoughts.
Don't you know that dreams are made from concrete?
If I were a poet, I would write my own story.
I would recite a word, confess my heart.
Tell if the things I want.
I'd taste the salt and wind.
Swim in the ocean, I'd fall into the sea.
I'd paint the clouds with my heart.
And I'd do it all while dreaming.
But as I know, I was never meant to dance.
I was never meant to write.
There's a new way of talking.
There's a new way of speaking....
618 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ilovescarystories
