Submissions by leumas
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
STORY POEM
Published
8th Dec 2014 7:27am
8th Dec 2014 7:27am
Fawn
A fawn lays beneath
a willow. it lays in
innocence, soared by
the wound, it bleeds.
It screams and cries
but only ears to hear
a quiet distress with
each breath its
voice begins to fade.
Among the pasture I
walk a father looking
for his daughter, my
feet come to an end
of despair.
i thought of nothing
frozen by the numbness
of a scene that can't
be abandoned, but
realized.
Where was I?
A daughter found on the midst
of a pasture lifeless, her
virginity torn, and life
scourged by...
a willow. it lays in
innocence, soared by
the wound, it bleeds.
It screams and cries
but only ears to hear
a quiet distress with
each breath its
voice begins to fade.
Among the pasture I
walk a father looking
for his daughter, my
feet come to an end
of despair.
i thought of nothing
frozen by the numbness
of a scene that can't
be abandoned, but
realized.
Where was I?
A daughter found on the midst
of a pasture lifeless, her
virginity torn, and life
scourged by...
548 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
8th Dec 2014 7:22am
8th Dec 2014 7:22am
X.S.V.
Beyond the point,
I become indulged
with satisfaction
urging to exceed the
wanting of sensation.
To give too much,
to be too much,
to go beyond limits
that points at
un-attraction.
At this point, confusion
becomes infested with
regretful interactions,
rebelling against ones
attraction.
Love is not the perfect
seaming less connection
that two hands clasped
together become one
but some fingers missing
and others belonging
to another.
I become indulged
with satisfaction
urging to exceed the
wanting of sensation.
To give too much,
to be too much,
to go beyond limits
that points at
un-attraction.
At this point, confusion
becomes infested with
regretful interactions,
rebelling against ones
attraction.
Love is not the perfect
seaming less connection
that two hands clasped
together become one
but some fingers missing
and others belonging
to another.
530 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th Apr 2014 5:58am
14th Apr 2014 5:58am
Top Floor
I live above everyone's head
lives that are lived under my feet
A room that's awake while everyone's
asleep.
A loud quiet room begins to talk
It talks through the clock
cries from the dripping faucet
and breathes from the air vents.
The ash tray shows, how long
I've been in this room.
Thirty days, not an hour, not a minute,
or a second of sleep.
Welcome on the floor,but no
visitors to come by, a quiet
distress not to be heard, a
deadly dose puts me at rest.
lives that are lived under my feet
A room that's awake while everyone's
asleep.
A loud quiet room begins to talk
It talks through the clock
cries from the dripping faucet
and breathes from the air vents.
The ash tray shows, how long
I've been in this room.
Thirty days, not an hour, not a minute,
or a second of sleep.
Welcome on the floor,but no
visitors to come by, a quiet
distress not to be heard, a
deadly dose puts me at rest.
526 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
9th Jan 2014 9:21pm
9th Jan 2014 9:21pm
NO ANSWER
My breath covers the room,
but my thoughts surround it.
I speak, shout, talk
its slow, fast, fluid, erratic.
A room with no boundaries
I kneel down at the floor
while the carpet imprints my knees hugging it.
I close my eyes to only envision nothing.
Wanting to see, to hear, to touch
an answer.
Where is it,what is it, when is it, empty inside I wait and wait for an answer.
but my thoughts surround it.
I speak, shout, talk
its slow, fast, fluid, erratic.
A room with no boundaries
I kneel down at the floor
while the carpet imprints my knees hugging it.
I close my eyes to only envision nothing.
Wanting to see, to hear, to touch
an answer.
Where is it,what is it, when is it, empty inside I wait and wait for an answer.
714 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Jan 2014 9:15pm
9th Jan 2014 9:15pm
INNOCENCE
An ignorance of purity
an upbringing inside
spiritually a numbness
of hate a persistence
of knowing.
A resistance to temptation
blind by sin
deaf by words
only to see good
and a memory of bad.
an upbringing inside
spiritually a numbness
of hate a persistence
of knowing.
A resistance to temptation
blind by sin
deaf by words
only to see good
and a memory of bad.
585 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th Dec 2013 4:23am
7th Dec 2013 4:23am
confession of a true sadis
I am normal I tell myself but
deep down inside I cant reveal myself
Objects are what I see but I fake my
perception to a certain degree.
Sad,happy,mad are basic emotions in which
I trained myself to do.
To fake my personality to people objects to leave no trace
and no clue.
Humans are just souless creatures that live off the earth
,but I feel like a predator and people are
all tempting and teasing prey.
I am hungry to inflict pain,carrying my life am I normal or insane.
deep down inside I cant reveal myself
Objects are what I see but I fake my
perception to a certain degree.
Sad,happy,mad are basic emotions in which
I trained myself to do.
To fake my personality to people objects to leave no trace
and no clue.
Humans are just souless creatures that live off the earth
,but I feel like a predator and people are
all tempting and teasing prey.
I am hungry to inflict pain,carrying my life am I normal or insane.
591 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Oct 2013 7:55pm
16th Oct 2013 7:55pm
I KILLED A MAN THE OTHER DAY
I've been watching this pedophile
who lives five blocks away.
He is tall and young, and raped
a five year old girl, that's what
my neighbors' say.
He leaves the house around
seven to go to work comes
back home around seven
eats a TV dinner with just
a fork.
I decided on a time not to soon
killing him would be best in the
afternoon.
I approached his door dressed like
a Mormon thinking he wouldn't mind
a Joseph smith sermon.
He opens the door, and I see the
fork he was using, to eat his TV dinner.
I...
who lives five blocks away.
He is tall and young, and raped
a five year old girl, that's what
my neighbors' say.
He leaves the house around
seven to go to work comes
back home around seven
eats a TV dinner with just
a fork.
I decided on a time not to soon
killing him would be best in the
afternoon.
I approached his door dressed like
a Mormon thinking he wouldn't mind
a Joseph smith sermon.
He opens the door, and I see the
fork he was using, to eat his TV dinner.
I...
734 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Oct 2013 1:17am
16th Oct 2013 1:17am
PRESENT SHORT FLASHBACK
As I am washing my face
I pause, and take a second of a
moment in the past and take
a deep breath as if it is my last.
A movement will break my concentration
to resist that heart scourging penetration.
My mind lives in regret
but my heart urges to forget.
I pause, and take a second of a
moment in the past and take
a deep breath as if it is my last.
A movement will break my concentration
to resist that heart scourging penetration.
My mind lives in regret
but my heart urges to forget.
587 reads
1 Comment
STORY POEM
Published
15th Oct 2013 8:13pm
15th Oct 2013 8:13pm
THE DOG I FOUND
One day I was walking didn't know why
It was cold, but a bright sunny sky.
The trees on the ground slim and tall
Like an opening between schools of open halls.
I walk through the pines, like a stranger in the woods, I tried to go off the trails but remembered I never should.
Walking pass a bush I heard a rumble it was a old shabby dog who look like he was in trouble.
Skinny that old fella looked, with its ribs higher than its skin. It approaches me rubbing against my shin.
These ponds that, though in forests, still reflect I stare at it...
It was cold, but a bright sunny sky.
The trees on the ground slim and tall
Like an opening between schools of open halls.
I walk through the pines, like a stranger in the woods, I tried to go off the trails but remembered I never should.
Walking pass a bush I heard a rumble it was a old shabby dog who look like he was in trouble.
Skinny that old fella looked, with its ribs higher than its skin. It approaches me rubbing against my shin.
These ponds that, though in forests, still reflect I stare at it...
576 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Oct 2013 8:49am
15th Oct 2013 8:49am
NORMAL?
I like my other mind
The mind that is different
And in many ways still
Kind.
Look through my eyes and
You will see distinct
Ways one can be free
Hear through my ears
And indulge things differently
And listen to the chaos
Of the world simultaneously.
I find people close to me
In a trend in which i cannot
Cope, with my distinct mind
That cannot comprehend
I abhor normality the
Other mind suits me.
The mind that is different
And in many ways still
Kind.
Look through my eyes and
You will see distinct
Ways one can be free
Hear through my ears
And indulge things differently
And listen to the chaos
Of the world simultaneously.
I find people close to me
In a trend in which i cannot
Cope, with my distinct mind
That cannot comprehend
I abhor normality the
Other mind suits me.
693 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Oct 2013 8:44am
15th Oct 2013 8:44am
AM I A PSYCHO ?
I FEEL DIFFERENT
THE WAY I FELT BEFORE.
THE FEELING OF KILLING
AT MY HEARTS BOTTOM CORE.
MY MIND IS CONTROLLING ME
TELLING ME ONLY TO HARM ME.
GOD FORGIVES ONLY WHEN YOU PRAY,
BUT HUNGER LASHES AT ME STALKING
MY ONLY PREY.
IS THIS WHO I AM OR IS
THIS WHO I WANT TO BE?
THE WAY I FELT BEFORE.
THE FEELING OF KILLING
AT MY HEARTS BOTTOM CORE.
MY MIND IS CONTROLLING ME
TELLING ME ONLY TO HARM ME.
GOD FORGIVES ONLY WHEN YOU PRAY,
BUT HUNGER LASHES AT ME STALKING
MY ONLY PREY.
IS THIS WHO I AM OR IS
THIS WHO I WANT TO BE?
545 reads
0 Comments
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