Submissions by neo128
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Nov 2015 8:15pm
20th Nov 2015 8:15pm
Red Light Means Go
I won't pretend at ignorance
I see it all too clearly.
It serves me to regard it,
As is my custom, cavalierly.
Silently, you disapprove.
My concern, at best, is brisk.
You ache to list provisos
But can't afford the risk.
You've booked an obliging venue,
Safe from doubt or irksome friction.
It gratifies you to maintain
An accommodating fiction.
What's love got to do with it?
C'mon, don't even ask.
We've got each other's back
Because we're suited to the...
I see it all too clearly.
It serves me to regard it,
As is my custom, cavalierly.
Silently, you disapprove.
My concern, at best, is brisk.
You ache to list provisos
But can't afford the risk.
You've booked an obliging venue,
Safe from doubt or irksome friction.
It gratifies you to maintain
An accommodating fiction.
What's love got to do with it?
C'mon, don't even ask.
We've got each other's back
Because we're suited to the...
599 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
16th Nov 2015 8:56pm
16th Nov 2015 8:56pm
Woof!
Yeah, baby, I see you lookin'.
You’re beggin’ me to wink;
To ooze up there beside you,
And offer you a drink.
We’ll start off with some small talk.
I’ll feed you the standard line.
All the while I’ll be scheming
To get my hands on that fine behind.
See, girl, I’ve gotten good at this.
It’s a well-rehearsed routine.
I ain’t met two warm, brown thighs, yet,
I can’t get in between.
I really shouldn’t do this.
It’s not gonna turn out well.
You’ll end up cryin’ over me.
I should respect …...
You’re beggin’ me to wink;
To ooze up there beside you,
And offer you a drink.
We’ll start off with some small talk.
I’ll feed you the standard line.
All the while I’ll be scheming
To get my hands on that fine behind.
See, girl, I’ve gotten good at this.
It’s a well-rehearsed routine.
I ain’t met two warm, brown thighs, yet,
I can’t get in between.
I really shouldn’t do this.
It’s not gonna turn out well.
You’ll end up cryin’ over me.
I should respect …...
865 reads
7 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
24th Oct 2015 6:16pm
24th Oct 2015 6:16pm
This About That
Potential stands for nothing.
I took mine out and shot it;
Didn’t wave it like a flag
‘Cause everybody’s got it.
Skill engenders something,
And the best way not to lose it
Is to make an urgent point
Of finding decent ways to use it.
Talent is a quirky beast
(You know, ‘cause you possess it).
Don’t bother trying to figure it,
Just make sure you express it.
Opinions aren’t worth a fig;
Too dear at half the price
(This part’s how I justify
Ignoring my own advice).
I took mine out and shot it;
Didn’t wave it like a flag
‘Cause everybody’s got it.
Skill engenders something,
And the best way not to lose it
Is to make an urgent point
Of finding decent ways to use it.
Talent is a quirky beast
(You know, ‘cause you possess it).
Don’t bother trying to figure it,
Just make sure you express it.
Opinions aren’t worth a fig;
Too dear at half the price
(This part’s how I justify
Ignoring my own advice).
602 reads
4 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
21st Oct 2015 10:37pm
21st Oct 2015 10:37pm
It Dwells Within
In my days of cthonic godhood
I was a titan of ice and fire;
An iconic contradiction,
Both paragon and pariah.
On a distant spire, a seraph stood
Holding a newborn with nacre eyes.
I came to learn, later, the infant was truth;
Only child of the father of lies.
The archangel held the child forth
Crying, “Who makes the sacrifice?
Where dwells the courage that validates reason?
Who pays the asking price?"
“Not I!” I averred in stentorian tones.
“I bear burdens of profitable sins!”
“So,” whispered...
I was a titan of ice and fire;
An iconic contradiction,
Both paragon and pariah.
On a distant spire, a seraph stood
Holding a newborn with nacre eyes.
I came to learn, later, the infant was truth;
Only child of the father of lies.
The archangel held the child forth
Crying, “Who makes the sacrifice?
Where dwells the courage that validates reason?
Who pays the asking price?"
“Not I!” I averred in stentorian tones.
“I bear burdens of profitable sins!”
“So,” whispered...
745 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
10th Oct 2015 7:53pm
10th Oct 2015 7:53pm
When the Sun was Very Young
The facile Mr. Shadow
Blithely watches time go by,
Evaluating each mordant flux
With a cold and practiced eye.
He refrains from micromanagement.
There’s never been a need—
He views zero sum progressions,
And is loathe to intercede.
Murky minions loiter near,
Grudging insincere respects.
They're absolved by Mr. Shadow,
Who begets what he reflects.
He's not your usual dilettante,
Chanting hymns to the converted.
He displays the...
Blithely watches time go by,
Evaluating each mordant flux
With a cold and practiced eye.
He refrains from micromanagement.
There’s never been a need—
He views zero sum progressions,
And is loathe to intercede.
Murky minions loiter near,
Grudging insincere respects.
They're absolved by Mr. Shadow,
Who begets what he reflects.
He's not your usual dilettante,
Chanting hymns to the converted.
He displays the...
576 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
9th Oct 2015 7:07pm
9th Oct 2015 7:07pm
The Day I Became a Man?
It wasn’t the day I took a baseball bat
And pole-axed Roscoe Dawes,
Or the day I talked Shaniqua Hanks
Out her ninety-nine cent drawers.
It wasn’t the day my father died
(The only man I’ll ever mourn).
And, believe it or not, it wasn’t
The day my son was born.
It wasn’t the time I sat behind
The wheel of my first car,
Or when I looked into a mirror
And decided I was a star.
It wasn’t the day I found out
“Cousin Pam” was my half-sister.
It was the day some kid, I didn’t know,
Walked up and called me…...
And pole-axed Roscoe Dawes,
Or the day I talked Shaniqua Hanks
Out her ninety-nine cent drawers.
It wasn’t the day my father died
(The only man I’ll ever mourn).
And, believe it or not, it wasn’t
The day my son was born.
It wasn’t the time I sat behind
The wheel of my first car,
Or when I looked into a mirror
And decided I was a star.
It wasn’t the day I found out
“Cousin Pam” was my half-sister.
It was the day some kid, I didn’t know,
Walked up and called me…...
624 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
28th Sep 2015 10:08pm
28th Sep 2015 10:08pm
Poor Little Poem
It's the latest, not the greatest;
Just the last in a motley line.
Nevertheless it’s left the nest
Seeking a chance to shine.
It’s not easy trying to please
A snooty literary mob.
Should it, by chance, educe a smile,
Well—then it’s done its job.
If not, then it must languish
In the realm of the forgotten—
To turn bitterly resentful,
And grow up mean and rotten.
And so, a little poem’s dreams
You will have cruelly maimed.
There, I hope you’re satisfied.
Now—aren't you...
Just the last in a motley line.
Nevertheless it’s left the nest
Seeking a chance to shine.
It’s not easy trying to please
A snooty literary mob.
Should it, by chance, educe a smile,
Well—then it’s done its job.
If not, then it must languish
In the realm of the forgotten—
To turn bitterly resentful,
And grow up mean and rotten.
And so, a little poem’s dreams
You will have cruelly maimed.
There, I hope you’re satisfied.
Now—aren't you...
530 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
19th Sep 2015 6:53pm
19th Sep 2015 6:53pm
Incorruptible
He's thankful for his savage grace,
Heretofore unknown to science.
Gratefully, he accepts the gifts
Of calmly effected violence.
He was given profound endowments
(Though, he cannot say from whence).
But the mystery is irrelevant—
He's indifferent to suspense.
He glories in his glacial warmth;
His flawless imperfections;
The keen esteem for authority,
Which fuels his insurrections.
The caterwauling moves him not.
You don’t miss what you can’t feel.
To all who...
Heretofore unknown to science.
Gratefully, he accepts the gifts
Of calmly effected violence.
He was given profound endowments
(Though, he cannot say from whence).
But the mystery is irrelevant—
He's indifferent to suspense.
He glories in his glacial warmth;
His flawless imperfections;
The keen esteem for authority,
Which fuels his insurrections.
The caterwauling moves him not.
You don’t miss what you can’t feel.
To all who...
651 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
16th Sep 2015 10:26pm
16th Sep 2015 10:26pm
Code Fifty-One-Fifty
You're distressed
I invoked it so easy?
You're disturbed.
Is it making you queasy?
You're asking me why
it looks insane?
Like a dangerous animal
Off the chain?
See, it's like this...
It is what it is.
That's my "go to" answer
On every quiz.
If you (and your conscience)
Can't take the glare
I invite you (both)
To go fret elsewhere.
Meantime, clam up,
And take infinite joy
That you're not the one
It was built to destroy.
I invoked it so easy?
You're disturbed.
Is it making you queasy?
You're asking me why
it looks insane?
Like a dangerous animal
Off the chain?
See, it's like this...
It is what it is.
That's my "go to" answer
On every quiz.
If you (and your conscience)
Can't take the glare
I invite you (both)
To go fret elsewhere.
Meantime, clam up,
And take infinite joy
That you're not the one
It was built to destroy.
611 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
10th Sep 2015 00:28am
10th Sep 2015 00:28am
Twenty-Three Days
For twenty-three days this world was blessed,
Every second she was in it.
For twenty-three days a heroine fought
When she shouldn’t have made a minute.
She came three months too early,
But was no easy prey for death.
For twenty-three days she battled
For each thimbleful of breath.
For twenty-three days she held on;
To her tiny life she clung.
For twenty-three days she fought for air
With each fingernail-sized lung.
After twenty-three days her strength was done
And this world lost a priceless pearl.
It took twenty-three...
Every second she was in it.
For twenty-three days a heroine fought
When she shouldn’t have made a minute.
She came three months too early,
But was no easy prey for death.
For twenty-three days she battled
For each thimbleful of breath.
For twenty-three days she held on;
To her tiny life she clung.
For twenty-three days she fought for air
With each fingernail-sized lung.
After twenty-three days her strength was done
And this world lost a priceless pearl.
It took twenty-three...
1087 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Sep 2015 00:20am
10th Sep 2015 00:20am
Microcosm
Well,” the interviewer says,
With a tone of clipped precision.
“You’ve made it easy for me, sir,
To come to a quick decision.”
“The position you’ve applied for—
Requires some depth of feeling;
Given the nature of the folks
With whom you would be dealing.”
“The clientele we cater to
Are desirous of compassion;
They wish to be treated gently,
And regarded in kindly fashion.”
"You, sir, with what I've seen and heard,
Are decidedly malicious.
At your most benign
You’re unambiguously...
With a tone of clipped precision.
“You’ve made it easy for me, sir,
To come to a quick decision.”
“The position you’ve applied for—
Requires some depth of feeling;
Given the nature of the folks
With whom you would be dealing.”
“The clientele we cater to
Are desirous of compassion;
They wish to be treated gently,
And regarded in kindly fashion.”
"You, sir, with what I've seen and heard,
Are decidedly malicious.
At your most benign
You’re unambiguously...
661 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
24th Aug 2015 9:47pm
24th Aug 2015 9:47pm
Hall of Mirrors
Approach him not, you common things,
Nor hopes of love evince.
No seat of fellowship is found
In the realm of the jaguar prince.
Venerate his magnificence,
Exalt his ascendant star,
Revere the very thought of him,
But do so from afar.
He holds inviolate the rites
Of devout self-adoration,
And must disdainfully dismiss
All things beneath his station.
Seek you not for answers
As to why he's built his wall;
For I know him better than anyone,
And I know him... not at all.
Nor hopes of love evince.
No seat of fellowship is found
In the realm of the jaguar prince.
Venerate his magnificence,
Exalt his ascendant star,
Revere the very thought of him,
But do so from afar.
He holds inviolate the rites
Of devout self-adoration,
And must disdainfully dismiss
All things beneath his station.
Seek you not for answers
As to why he's built his wall;
For I know him better than anyone,
And I know him... not at all.
543 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by neo128
