Submissions by jswissman
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
She Wants To Hang Herself Tonight
I know your sky is not blue,
But I cannot let you go.
I found you in a world so cruel,
Your heart it will not show.
Slow seed of poison sown,
Your emotions are so dim.
I love you as my very own,
And your loss I lose a limb.
For if you shall be gone so soon,
My heart will forever skip a beat.
You are & shall be my greatest boon,
A soul upon my seat.
How do I wait and let you hang
When my own heart is in yours?
When I met you the Heavens sang,
And now my heart it pours.
But I cannot let you go.
I found you in a world so cruel,
Your heart it will not show.
Slow seed of poison sown,
Your emotions are so dim.
I love you as my very own,
And your loss I lose a limb.
For if you shall be gone so soon,
My heart will forever skip a beat.
You are & shall be my greatest boon,
A soul upon my seat.
How do I wait and let you hang
When my own heart is in yours?
When I met you the Heavens sang,
And now my heart it pours.
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This Martian Landscape
In this Martian landscape
This desert where no human breathes
Noxious odors hover above
The spirits of the unfulfilled dead
Boxcar magic under a midnight sun
Burnt out streetlamp hides the happy gun
I meet the alien craft outside the alleyway
Hoping for that wisdom that lead us all astray
Redemption now is on a distant world
For those who want to seek
A paragon of emptiness
And dirt below their feet
I carry my spade with me as I travel out of bounds
No longer seeing my tissue
Or hearing
The howling...
This desert where no human breathes
Noxious odors hover above
The spirits of the unfulfilled dead
Boxcar magic under a midnight sun
Burnt out streetlamp hides the happy gun
I meet the alien craft outside the alleyway
Hoping for that wisdom that lead us all astray
Redemption now is on a distant world
For those who want to seek
A paragon of emptiness
And dirt below their feet
I carry my spade with me as I travel out of bounds
No longer seeing my tissue
Or hearing
The howling...
592 reads
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I Cannot Continue To Beg
I marvel at the mystery I find in you,
Yet I feel hurt as though I can feel the sting in your soul
Every time I try to make contact again.
I have my own pile of bones in my closet,
And one of them is clearly labeled “REJECTION.”
And I’m too old to feel this way anymore,
Too old to be writing monologues to ghosts.
You are but an evanescent attachment
That brings me an empty bowl when I beg for food.
Please forgive me, but I cannot continue to beg.[/b]
Yet I feel hurt as though I can feel the sting in your soul
Every time I try to make contact again.
I have my own pile of bones in my closet,
And one of them is clearly labeled “REJECTION.”
And I’m too old to feel this way anymore,
Too old to be writing monologues to ghosts.
You are but an evanescent attachment
That brings me an empty bowl when I beg for food.
Please forgive me, but I cannot continue to beg.[/b]
630 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by jswissman