Submissions by lolasurf99 (Shawnelle Martineaux)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I've been searching forever. For what? I don't know...but I've managed to find some cool relics to prove I'm on the right road.
DRUGS POEM
Published
5th Jan 2014 5:10am
5th Jan 2014 5:10am
Vindicated
I'm a veteran flyer.
A soldier in the army of my lord.
For years I slew the armies of truth
that tried to conquer my nation with guilt.
My pockets have sung hymns to that god.
Powder. The smell of victory!
I pray you open my eyes even more!
That green man trying to possess me must be killed.
Hearing my son's cry for clothes on an empty stomach
never shook my faith.
I had to go to war again.
I had to win.
My demons would not rest until I cast them into hell.
Life is my godforsaken game of Russian roulette where I like...
A soldier in the army of my lord.
For years I slew the armies of truth
that tried to conquer my nation with guilt.
My pockets have sung hymns to that god.
Powder. The smell of victory!
I pray you open my eyes even more!
That green man trying to possess me must be killed.
Hearing my son's cry for clothes on an empty stomach
never shook my faith.
I had to go to war again.
I had to win.
My demons would not rest until I cast them into hell.
Life is my godforsaken game of Russian roulette where I like...
712 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2013 7:22pm
22nd Nov 2013 7:22pm
He is...
He's an onion;
layered in sweet complexity.
And as I cut him open he burns my eyes.
Conscious of the self inflicted suffering,
I cry tears of joy and determination,
fostering the truth that he dares deny.
And love's way, often parched and hard,
draws me closer to his brilliance.
I smile as he smiles.
He is a sunrise.
At a distance he glows and
up close he blinds me by his overwhelming incandescence.
He is a new day but he
doesn't know how to start over.
He has blinded many. He has burnt many.
He...
layered in sweet complexity.
And as I cut him open he burns my eyes.
Conscious of the self inflicted suffering,
I cry tears of joy and determination,
fostering the truth that he dares deny.
And love's way, often parched and hard,
draws me closer to his brilliance.
I smile as he smiles.
He is a sunrise.
At a distance he glows and
up close he blinds me by his overwhelming incandescence.
He is a new day but he
doesn't know how to start over.
He has blinded many. He has burnt many.
He...
699 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Nov 2013 7:54am
1st Nov 2013 7:54am
Haikus on Nature
Glory shine on down!
A new day's dawn ignites
a fire within.
Trees sway back and forth,
humbled by the wind.
Hurricane rage on!
Moonlight guide me by
thy grace, To keep the darkness
from overtaking.
Winter is cold for
all those who have no power
to fight for their love.
I see the green life.
Death's angel lingers here still.
Spring brings me no hope.
Summer dear! My summer!
Come quickly. Go slowly please.
I need a break dude!
Grass loses no sleep
over the fact that he will
be stepped...
A new day's dawn ignites
a fire within.
Trees sway back and forth,
humbled by the wind.
Hurricane rage on!
Moonlight guide me by
thy grace, To keep the darkness
from overtaking.
Winter is cold for
all those who have no power
to fight for their love.
I see the green life.
Death's angel lingers here still.
Spring brings me no hope.
Summer dear! My summer!
Come quickly. Go slowly please.
I need a break dude!
Grass loses no sleep
over the fact that he will
be stepped...
672 reads
10 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
1st Nov 2013 7:39am
1st Nov 2013 7:39am
Pointer
A red spot on the whiteboard
moving left to right,
line to line,
pointing stories out so we can see exactly what they mean.
Clasped in a teacher's hand,
while the drone of students dictating the
content of a textbook or website or document
overpowers the purpose of the reading.
Education. Edification. Illumination.
You illuminate every line.
You make the message clear.
We never have to wonder what we have to learn to do
or fix.
A red spot on the whiteboard moving
ever forward.
Your light never shines back on you....
moving left to right,
line to line,
pointing stories out so we can see exactly what they mean.
Clasped in a teacher's hand,
while the drone of students dictating the
content of a textbook or website or document
overpowers the purpose of the reading.
Education. Edification. Illumination.
You illuminate every line.
You make the message clear.
We never have to wonder what we have to learn to do
or fix.
A red spot on the whiteboard moving
ever forward.
Your light never shines back on you....
703 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
18th Oct 2013 2:12am
18th Oct 2013 2:12am
Beauty
His eyes scan every curve
of a body beaten around
constantly by
the need for validation.
Every head given
to the lusts of nature
Ravenous beasts feasting on her
chest in glances.
If it were your mother,
what would you want?
If it were your mother,
what would you want him
to want?
They judge and see her fit
not even knowing her name or
from whence she came.
Because it is only skin deep and
nobody knows that in her is a
brilliant soul.
She will never know that one day
someone would say
I can...
of a body beaten around
constantly by
the need for validation.
Every head given
to the lusts of nature
Ravenous beasts feasting on her
chest in glances.
If it were your mother,
what would you want?
If it were your mother,
what would you want him
to want?
They judge and see her fit
not even knowing her name or
from whence she came.
Because it is only skin deep and
nobody knows that in her is a
brilliant soul.
She will never know that one day
someone would say
I can...
789 reads
13 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Oct 2013 2:04am
18th Oct 2013 2:04am
The Beauty of the Beast
Honesty.
It is the one thing that separates people from dogs.
Yet at first glance, his sharp
teeth and
tough skin makes you brand him a dog.
Up in his mansion he sits
day in, day out almost not existing.
Not existing yet instilling fear in every man, woman and child who
lives in the shadows of his wealth.
He was a vain man.
In the presence of his money, his face shone like gold.
His money was his face
and the power of hate bred in his loins festered until he became
dead to his own lust for wealth.
He pretends to be no man....
It is the one thing that separates people from dogs.
Yet at first glance, his sharp
teeth and
tough skin makes you brand him a dog.
Up in his mansion he sits
day in, day out almost not existing.
Not existing yet instilling fear in every man, woman and child who
lives in the shadows of his wealth.
He was a vain man.
In the presence of his money, his face shone like gold.
His money was his face
and the power of hate bred in his loins festered until he became
dead to his own lust for wealth.
He pretends to be no man....
823 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th Oct 2013 8:56pm
14th Oct 2013 8:56pm
Me
I vacillate between the whimsical and disruptive
Scolding myself for not being me
Hating myself for being me
Wondering who I am.
I soar in a world unknown to my eyes
feel its breeze on my skin and swear I have never known it.
The pity of conscience combats the empathy of emptiness I feel.
I transform into verses,
colour a page in confusion;
oh bright hues it burns!
And some people call it art.
Others call me the artist, yet it is I on the page.
Who or what am I?
Scolding myself for not being me
Hating myself for being me
Wondering who I am.
I soar in a world unknown to my eyes
feel its breeze on my skin and swear I have never known it.
The pity of conscience combats the empathy of emptiness I feel.
I transform into verses,
colour a page in confusion;
oh bright hues it burns!
And some people call it art.
Others call me the artist, yet it is I on the page.
Who or what am I?
1119 reads
5 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
10th Oct 2013 5:46am
10th Oct 2013 5:46am
Labyrinth
Corners,
twisting and turning through my mind;
a coiled nothingness stacked atop my existence
and bending my back to breaking.
Like Theseus' journey.
My minotaurs attack me with hopes to tear me to shreds.
My thoughts gnarl and scratch at my life.
I am torn between the knowledge that every maze has an end
and the fact that I am still on my way to finding that end; that grace; that peace.
Self annihilation or resilience?
I curse the day I made myself a puzzle so tough to crack.
twisting and turning through my mind;
a coiled nothingness stacked atop my existence
and bending my back to breaking.
Like Theseus' journey.
My minotaurs attack me with hopes to tear me to shreds.
My thoughts gnarl and scratch at my life.
I am torn between the knowledge that every maze has an end
and the fact that I am still on my way to finding that end; that grace; that peace.
Self annihilation or resilience?
I curse the day I made myself a puzzle so tough to crack.
572 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
10th Oct 2013 5:16am
10th Oct 2013 5:16am
My Ex Is Sexy
Everybody has that sexy ex-boyfriend.
You know the one…
With the piercing eyes and washboard abs?
He’s so SMART.
He’s so good at sports and speaks such flawless
English.
You always have to remind yourself why he was a bad idea because
He sure as hell looks like a great one.
I’m sure we all remember the details too!
There was always the sexy way he avoided conversations he didn’t want to have.
He knew how to say ALL the right things.
He knew how not to say all the right things even more.
I remember how my sexy ex ALWAYS disappeared when I...
You know the one…
With the piercing eyes and washboard abs?
He’s so SMART.
He’s so good at sports and speaks such flawless
English.
You always have to remind yourself why he was a bad idea because
He sure as hell looks like a great one.
I’m sure we all remember the details too!
There was always the sexy way he avoided conversations he didn’t want to have.
He knew how to say ALL the right things.
He knew how not to say all the right things even more.
I remember how my sexy ex ALWAYS disappeared when I...
882 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
28th Sep 2013 2:33am
28th Sep 2013 2:33am
Soulmates
The furtive hands of half a lover, searching earnestly for himself
among the faces he encounters, is bound,
by faith and fate,
to find his other hand
surreptitiously searching for him...
among the faces he didn't know he encountered.
Two hands clasped together form one heart.
among the faces he encounters, is bound,
by faith and fate,
to find his other hand
surreptitiously searching for him...
among the faces he didn't know he encountered.
Two hands clasped together form one heart.
615 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
28th Sep 2013 2:18am
28th Sep 2013 2:18am
Love
To speak of love should be a crime;
because to love we owe all debts.
Our acts of kindness, clandestine
Shall motivate us on life's quest.
If we do good so good will be
be sure one day we shall collide
upon the road of battles won.
Love given in itself is a battle won
freely.
because to love we owe all debts.
Our acts of kindness, clandestine
Shall motivate us on life's quest.
If we do good so good will be
be sure one day we shall collide
upon the road of battles won.
Love given in itself is a battle won
freely.
563 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
27th Sep 2013 8:19am
27th Sep 2013 8:19am
Jezebel...the Manipulative Bitch
How do I do this?
If I weigh my benefits out...
If I only weigh them out, I can see.
My best option is to screw him.
Screw them all!
My husband can't read or write.
He can't pay for food.
We've got four kids to feed.
They are hungry.
He is no man.
I will screw him.
It seems we have a little problem on our hands.
I cannot benefit unless it's out in the open.
I feel guilty.
Should love hide?
We're screwing. So what?
Kick him out landlord!
Tell my children's father he is no man!
Take his place....
If I weigh my benefits out...
If I only weigh them out, I can see.
My best option is to screw him.
Screw them all!
My husband can't read or write.
He can't pay for food.
We've got four kids to feed.
They are hungry.
He is no man.
I will screw him.
It seems we have a little problem on our hands.
I cannot benefit unless it's out in the open.
I feel guilty.
Should love hide?
We're screwing. So what?
Kick him out landlord!
Tell my children's father he is no man!
Take his place....
752 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by lolasurf99 (Shawnelle Martineaux)
