Submissions by mikeocull
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
As a poet, songwriter, and musician, I deal in art, culture, and emotion. I have a need to make you feel something.It's all about the vibe.
SELF POEM
Published
14th Dec 2013 9:41am
14th Dec 2013 9:41am
Fragile
Overnight, my mood seems fragile.
I ride the mood swing from light to dark and back again,
Cultivating nothing but uncertainty.
My dirty heart covets what it can't have
And the purity in my soul clings to what I already possess.
I ride the mood swing from light to dark and back again,
Cultivating nothing but uncertainty.
My dirty heart covets what it can't have
And the purity in my soul clings to what I already possess.
607 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
2nd Dec 2013 11:54pm
2nd Dec 2013 11:54pm
World View #64
I don't trust adult personalities. Adults are full of lies. When people who used to torment me are nice to me now, I don't believe it. Who we are when we are young is who we really are. On the way to being a grown up, most of us learn to put on different faces in different situations to get what we want or in an effort to be civil and get along. We become full of lies. What we were is what we are. Inside, I am still the fat kid on the block with few friends or the fat teenager who couldn't get a date. I expect the same is true of the dickhead jocks and girls I did not impress.
...
...
696 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2013 6:42am
23rd Nov 2013 6:42am
Nice
Now they are all nice.
Life has taken us all down a few pegs by this age,
And now they are all nice to me.
If one of them had been that way in the old days,
I might not feel the way I do about myself.
Sadly, their niceness feels fake…
Or at least rooted in the fact that now it is obvious
They didn't pick me and that I will not hit on them.
Now, they can be nice.
I will no longer over-reach myself,
Or try to move above my station.
They were just the beginning of the failures that buried me.
Life has taken us all down a few pegs by this age,
And now they are all nice to me.
If one of them had been that way in the old days,
I might not feel the way I do about myself.
Sadly, their niceness feels fake…
Or at least rooted in the fact that now it is obvious
They didn't pick me and that I will not hit on them.
Now, they can be nice.
I will no longer over-reach myself,
Or try to move above my station.
They were just the beginning of the failures that buried me.
573 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2013 00:41am
22nd Nov 2013 00:41am
Fight
I fight to hold on.
I fight to let go.
It is a delicate dance, for sure.
I fight to hold on to my dignity,
My life, my belief that some people are good.
I fight to let go of my anger, my envy,
My bitterness.
Every day is a new contest between the two,
Knuckles bare, never a dull moment.
It is not in my nature to be at peace.
On my best days, this conflict turns to fuel.
On lesser days, it turns to mud.
I think I will always have to prove to myself
That I am worth the breath I draw.
Ultimately, that's what this is about.
I fight to let go.
It is a delicate dance, for sure.
I fight to hold on to my dignity,
My life, my belief that some people are good.
I fight to let go of my anger, my envy,
My bitterness.
Every day is a new contest between the two,
Knuckles bare, never a dull moment.
It is not in my nature to be at peace.
On my best days, this conflict turns to fuel.
On lesser days, it turns to mud.
I think I will always have to prove to myself
That I am worth the breath I draw.
Ultimately, that's what this is about.
701 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
21st Nov 2013 10:43am
21st Nov 2013 10:43am
Art Out Of Air
Another piece of the dream arrived today.
Sure, it looks a lot like a cardboard box
Containing yet another sound-making apparatus,
But it is so much more than that.
See, what it is is one more thing that helps me access myself.
Mine is a vision that needs tools to be articulated.
It can't emerge from air.
The contents of this new box
Will be installed next to the things that came
In other boxes on other days,
And, when used correctly and in the right frame of mind,
Will allow me to get closer to the core of my being.
Music is my authenticity....
Sure, it looks a lot like a cardboard box
Containing yet another sound-making apparatus,
But it is so much more than that.
See, what it is is one more thing that helps me access myself.
Mine is a vision that needs tools to be articulated.
It can't emerge from air.
The contents of this new box
Will be installed next to the things that came
In other boxes on other days,
And, when used correctly and in the right frame of mind,
Will allow me to get closer to the core of my being.
Music is my authenticity....
553 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
19th Nov 2013 11:40pm
19th Nov 2013 11:40pm
Other Autumns
Fall days fade away,
As the ever-endearing late-day sunshine
Spreads dusk in its wake.
I move through the chill air,
Warmed by memories of other autumns, other times,
Full of love and indulgence,
Soft kisses and hard drugs,
Leather jackets zipped against the urban cold
As we searched for the warm spot between us.
Living and loving as if that was all the world was,
And we couldn't imagine it being different.
Couldn't imagine that we would grow old and cool.
Couldn't imagine all the things to come.
As the ever-endearing late-day sunshine
Spreads dusk in its wake.
I move through the chill air,
Warmed by memories of other autumns, other times,
Full of love and indulgence,
Soft kisses and hard drugs,
Leather jackets zipped against the urban cold
As we searched for the warm spot between us.
Living and loving as if that was all the world was,
And we couldn't imagine it being different.
Couldn't imagine that we would grow old and cool.
Couldn't imagine all the things to come.
595 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Nov 2013 9:48pm
16th Nov 2013 9:48pm
Today...
My eyes bleed and my soul refuses to heal.
I feel the fire but don't care if I burn.
I deserve to burn, truth be told.
I am less than nothing occupying an empty spot.
Make no mistake:
I am a lost soul.
I am screaming for help.
I don't want to end up like some of the others…
I feel the fire but don't care if I burn.
I deserve to burn, truth be told.
I am less than nothing occupying an empty spot.
Make no mistake:
I am a lost soul.
I am screaming for help.
I don't want to end up like some of the others…
512 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
12th Nov 2013 7:58am
12th Nov 2013 7:58am
Edgewater
I miss Edgewater.
I felt safe there.
Been gone so long I am no longer the same.
Being there made everything feel right.
I was still kind of young, able to muster,
Up for anything.
I spent the turn of the century
Running around the North Side
With the E as my home.
There was a time when I thought I would live there forever.
Now, middle age is my home.
I don't recognize myself.
I fear I am not aging well.
I have no interest in the things a man
Of my age should want.
I never cared to raise children,
Water a...
I felt safe there.
Been gone so long I am no longer the same.
Being there made everything feel right.
I was still kind of young, able to muster,
Up for anything.
I spent the turn of the century
Running around the North Side
With the E as my home.
There was a time when I thought I would live there forever.
Now, middle age is my home.
I don't recognize myself.
I fear I am not aging well.
I have no interest in the things a man
Of my age should want.
I never cared to raise children,
Water a...
582 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
31st Oct 2013 6:55pm
31st Oct 2013 6:55pm
Snapping
Time to leave or time to stay?
The ongoing question.
There are days of hope.
There are days of despair.
I'm tired of who I am, that's for sure.
The thing is, I have re-invented myself many times
And I don't know if I have the strength
To do it again.
Sliding back into darkness is much more tempting on days like this.
The piss and vinegar part of me fights against this other part.
I guess we are all in our little stew pots these days.
People snapping left and right.
I don't know how to fix this.
I feel my own internal pressure...
The ongoing question.
There are days of hope.
There are days of despair.
I'm tired of who I am, that's for sure.
The thing is, I have re-invented myself many times
And I don't know if I have the strength
To do it again.
Sliding back into darkness is much more tempting on days like this.
The piss and vinegar part of me fights against this other part.
I guess we are all in our little stew pots these days.
People snapping left and right.
I don't know how to fix this.
I feel my own internal pressure...
658 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
31st Oct 2013 8:06am
31st Oct 2013 8:06am
From Here On In...
Bukowski said 'You get so alone sometimes that it just makes sense.'
He was right.
I have suffered the 'wisdom'
Of too many fools who,
In moments of weakness,
I found wiser than myself.
Being alone is what allows it all
To start making sense.
I feel my falsehoods fall away
And an authenticity emerge that is completely new.
I see now how full of the BS of others I have been.
Never again.
Right or wrong, I rule my own day from here.
What I think of me is what matters.
I have grown weary of trying to
Explain myself to others....
He was right.
I have suffered the 'wisdom'
Of too many fools who,
In moments of weakness,
I found wiser than myself.
Being alone is what allows it all
To start making sense.
I feel my falsehoods fall away
And an authenticity emerge that is completely new.
I see now how full of the BS of others I have been.
Never again.
Right or wrong, I rule my own day from here.
What I think of me is what matters.
I have grown weary of trying to
Explain myself to others....
514 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
31st Oct 2013 7:46am
31st Oct 2013 7:46am
Remember
Remember to tell them about me.
Remember me to the end.
I was nothing much,
But I was real.
Remember me to the end.
I was nothing much,
But I was real.
581 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
28th Oct 2013 7:50am
28th Oct 2013 7:50am
My 80's
I fell in love with the city at night.
The light, the shadows, the energy and vibe.
I longed to one of those
Who found this world indigenous.
I wanted to be one of those sleek and
Beautiful people walking along the windy night time streets
From tower to club to condo.
I was (am) round, graceless, and perpetually less than.
I thought that if I could become one of these City Folk
Then I might be able to hide my trueness,
My suburban past, and the rest of my embarrassing self.
I could live a life filled with long cashmere coats,
Gin martinis and...
The light, the shadows, the energy and vibe.
I longed to one of those
Who found this world indigenous.
I wanted to be one of those sleek and
Beautiful people walking along the windy night time streets
From tower to club to condo.
I was (am) round, graceless, and perpetually less than.
I thought that if I could become one of these City Folk
Then I might be able to hide my trueness,
My suburban past, and the rest of my embarrassing self.
I could live a life filled with long cashmere coats,
Gin martinis and...
647 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by mikeocull
