Submissions by neo128
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
STORY POEM
Published
21st Aug 2015 8:20pm
21st Aug 2015 8:20pm
The Fading Fragrance of a Poisoned Dream
Celestial glories light the face
The ancient gods have smiled upon.
Ancestral spirits bless a reborn vision
Of the House of Han.
A young sorceress, of old Cathay,
Culls virtue from carnal sin.
Redemption’s gained (at prohibitive price)
By the touch of her satin skin.
Gifted's the word you're searching for.
Go in and caress the proof,
Stretched naked, across a silk futon,
Adamantly aloof—
In a world never warmed by sunlight,
Or softened by the rain,
How fortunate that all concerned
Are...
The ancient gods have smiled upon.
Ancestral spirits bless a reborn vision
Of the House of Han.
A young sorceress, of old Cathay,
Culls virtue from carnal sin.
Redemption’s gained (at prohibitive price)
By the touch of her satin skin.
Gifted's the word you're searching for.
Go in and caress the proof,
Stretched naked, across a silk futon,
Adamantly aloof—
In a world never warmed by sunlight,
Or softened by the rain,
How fortunate that all concerned
Are...
512 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
18th Aug 2015 8:29pm
18th Aug 2015 8:29pm
The Fifth Horseman
The Fifth Horseman’s hour approaches,
He awaits the trumpet’s call,
To bequeath upon the race of Man
The most hateful curse of all.
Hosts of gaunt and hungry ghosts
Teem Famine’s barren shore.
While the monster, War, grows drunken
On a tide of human gore.
Pestilence fells vast multitudes
With gusts of its reeking breath;
Pouring victims, in surging torrents,
Into the grinning maw of Death.
Thus, the dire Four Horsemen,
Grim fiends of the apocalypse,
Scourge Mankind toward the precipice, ...
He awaits the trumpet’s call,
To bequeath upon the race of Man
The most hateful curse of all.
Hosts of gaunt and hungry ghosts
Teem Famine’s barren shore.
While the monster, War, grows drunken
On a tide of human gore.
Pestilence fells vast multitudes
With gusts of its reeking breath;
Pouring victims, in surging torrents,
Into the grinning maw of Death.
Thus, the dire Four Horsemen,
Grim fiends of the apocalypse,
Scourge Mankind toward the precipice, ...
635 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
14th Aug 2015 5:38pm
14th Aug 2015 5:38pm
The Onyx Monument
Suffer, ye demons, unto me
The fell heroes of antiquity,
Who made their famed and gloried names
In pits of black iniquity.
With scorn, I spurn your honors,
Your tributes, your gilded plaques.
I crave only the weight of a gore-streaked blade,
And the heft of blood-stained axe.
Red war is the god I was made for;
Black carnage, the beast, I revere.
With ascetic devotion, I've fashioned my name
To the thing people hate and fear.
The cacophonous din of battle
Is as a symphony unto mine ears.
The death screams...
The fell heroes of antiquity,
Who made their famed and gloried names
In pits of black iniquity.
With scorn, I spurn your honors,
Your tributes, your gilded plaques.
I crave only the weight of a gore-streaked blade,
And the heft of blood-stained axe.
Red war is the god I was made for;
Black carnage, the beast, I revere.
With ascetic devotion, I've fashioned my name
To the thing people hate and fear.
The cacophonous din of battle
Is as a symphony unto mine ears.
The death screams...
606 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
13th Aug 2015 8:40pm
13th Aug 2015 8:40pm
A Scoundrel’s Testimony
Having lately enjoyed a minor spate
Of undeserved success
I undertook a walking tour
To display my new finesse—
When I beheld an odd being walking
Upon the face of God’s green Earth,
Carrying itself with a prideful gait
As though derived of noble birth.
I, then and there, appointed myself
A warden of the public good.
And decided it best not to tolerate
Such critters in the neighborhood.
“You there!” I cried indignantly.
“What means this bold affront?
Your kind isn't wanted here,
If I...
Of undeserved success
I undertook a walking tour
To display my new finesse—
When I beheld an odd being walking
Upon the face of God’s green Earth,
Carrying itself with a prideful gait
As though derived of noble birth.
I, then and there, appointed myself
A warden of the public good.
And decided it best not to tolerate
Such critters in the neighborhood.
“You there!” I cried indignantly.
“What means this bold affront?
Your kind isn't wanted here,
If I...
641 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
12th Aug 2015 7:26pm
12th Aug 2015 7:26pm
Meta-Stasis
Consider the beast, serenity,
Ferocious in all her aspects;
As beneficial to peace of mind
As Spain was to the Aztecs.
Behold the demon, tranquility
(The devil keeps her score);
Stunning in her ugliness,
As virtuous as a whore.
Have you seen the hellcat, amenity?
She, even now, gives birth
To horrors of every vile kind
That rise, and walk the Earth.
Equanimity, you termagant.
What evils do you, now?
Is there no perversion you’ll not perform?
—No sin you won’t avow?
What...
Ferocious in all her aspects;
As beneficial to peace of mind
As Spain was to the Aztecs.
Behold the demon, tranquility
(The devil keeps her score);
Stunning in her ugliness,
As virtuous as a whore.
Have you seen the hellcat, amenity?
She, even now, gives birth
To horrors of every vile kind
That rise, and walk the Earth.
Equanimity, you termagant.
What evils do you, now?
Is there no perversion you’ll not perform?
—No sin you won’t avow?
What...
563 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
11th Aug 2015 10:19pm
11th Aug 2015 10:19pm
Secret Ceremony
Demons are like obedient dogs; they come when they're called.”
~ Remy de Gourmont ~
Today, nastiness
Sat by the door,
With a leash in its mouth
As, so often, before.
I warned, “Leave or I’ll kill you!”
My tenor severe.
But nastiness laughed—
“From your mouth to God’s ear.”
“Just shrivel and die!”
I heard myself say.
“No, thanks. Better offers
Are coming my way.”
I growled—“With that leash,
You’re taking a chance.
Swinging by the neck
Is a miserable dance!”
...
~ Remy de Gourmont ~
Today, nastiness
Sat by the door,
With a leash in its mouth
As, so often, before.
I warned, “Leave or I’ll kill you!”
My tenor severe.
But nastiness laughed—
“From your mouth to God’s ear.”
“Just shrivel and die!”
I heard myself say.
“No, thanks. Better offers
Are coming my way.”
I growled—“With that leash,
You’re taking a chance.
Swinging by the neck
Is a miserable dance!”
...
590 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
5th Aug 2015 9:38pm
5th Aug 2015 9:38pm
The Class I Missed :p
The skintight shorts that hug her hips
Look painted on her fanny;
A snug fit that accentuates
Every nook and cranny.
Her torso's ripe endowments
Bring traffic to a stop;
Aided in large part, no doubt,
By the low-cut, see-through top.
Oddly, her outfit exposes
Far more than it conceals;
Sixty-seven voluptuous inches
Sashaying on eight-inch heels.
The strange part is what irks her;
Sorely wounds her righteous pride.
The one thing she can't stand is being
Sexually objectified.
Look painted on her fanny;
A snug fit that accentuates
Every nook and cranny.
Her torso's ripe endowments
Bring traffic to a stop;
Aided in large part, no doubt,
By the low-cut, see-through top.
Oddly, her outfit exposes
Far more than it conceals;
Sixty-seven voluptuous inches
Sashaying on eight-inch heels.
The strange part is what irks her;
Sorely wounds her righteous pride.
The one thing she can't stand is being
Sexually objectified.
507 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
4th Aug 2015 7:27pm
4th Aug 2015 7:27pm
Meta-Genesis
I dreamt I walked as a panther;
Sinuous, black and sleek.
Content, in my dark dominion,
To leave legacies to the meek.
I imagined I soared as an eagle,
Aloft in a cold, cruel sky;
Ambivalent to all existence,
As the world, below, blurred by.
I envisioned myself an arctic wolf,
With a soul as cold as ice,
Yet, a heart made warm by the vistas
Of my polar paradise.
Then I saw myself as a serpent,
Who, on its belly, did writhe and crawl;
Devoid of compassion, pity or guilt,
And this pleased...
Sinuous, black and sleek.
Content, in my dark dominion,
To leave legacies to the meek.
I imagined I soared as an eagle,
Aloft in a cold, cruel sky;
Ambivalent to all existence,
As the world, below, blurred by.
I envisioned myself an arctic wolf,
With a soul as cold as ice,
Yet, a heart made warm by the vistas
Of my polar paradise.
Then I saw myself as a serpent,
Who, on its belly, did writhe and crawl;
Devoid of compassion, pity or guilt,
And this pleased...
582 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
3rd Aug 2015 5:30pm
3rd Aug 2015 5:30pm
The Apostate’s Prayer
Oh, Father, where’s the Messenger?
I can endure not one day more.
They promised me the Messenger
Would come knocking at the door.
His gentle words transfixed me,
And bore up the hearts of men.
He said I only need believe,
To be guiltless once again.
His empathy beguiled my soul.
My faith he did endow.
He swore that he’d return someday.
Oh, how I need him now.
Oh, Father, where’s the Messenger
I’ve pinned my hopes upon?
“He’s come and gone!” My Father laughed.
“He’s, long since, come and...
I can endure not one day more.
They promised me the Messenger
Would come knocking at the door.
His gentle words transfixed me,
And bore up the hearts of men.
He said I only need believe,
To be guiltless once again.
His empathy beguiled my soul.
My faith he did endow.
He swore that he’d return someday.
Oh, how I need him now.
Oh, Father, where’s the Messenger
I’ve pinned my hopes upon?
“He’s come and gone!” My Father laughed.
“He’s, long since, come and...
623 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
3rd Aug 2015 5:02pm
3rd Aug 2015 5:02pm
Valkyrie
Calmly, she waits at infinity’s gates
Where the wheels of time turn slowly.
Above the citadels of the decadent;
Beyond the temples of the holy.
She is purity incarnate,
Clad in greaves and gleaming bodice.
She's the drunken, blood-stained harlot
Reborn prideful, pagan goddess.
She is the mother and the daughter
Of the myriad mysteries;
Both creator and destroyer
Of innumerable histories.
Her spotless soul shines feral black,
Her body is cruel perfection.
She...
Where the wheels of time turn slowly.
Above the citadels of the decadent;
Beyond the temples of the holy.
She is purity incarnate,
Clad in greaves and gleaming bodice.
She's the drunken, blood-stained harlot
Reborn prideful, pagan goddess.
She is the mother and the daughter
Of the myriad mysteries;
Both creator and destroyer
Of innumerable histories.
Her spotless soul shines feral black,
Her body is cruel perfection.
She...
838 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
1st Aug 2015 4:52pm
1st Aug 2015 4:52pm
The Seven Ages of (Modern) Man
In the first age, males see females
As an exotic form of cootie.
The second age maintains contact
With girls will make him fruity.
The third brings realization
One or two might be a cutie,
Which the fourth age finds has
Transformed into captivating beauty.
The fifth (and longest) age is
An eager hunt for the perfect booty.
The sixth reluctantly suggests
The hunt's a young man's duty.
The seventh finds him engrossed
By climate data from Djibouti.
As an exotic form of cootie.
The second age maintains contact
With girls will make him fruity.
The third brings realization
One or two might be a cutie,
Which the fourth age finds has
Transformed into captivating beauty.
The fifth (and longest) age is
An eager hunt for the perfect booty.
The sixth reluctantly suggests
The hunt's a young man's duty.
The seventh finds him engrossed
By climate data from Djibouti.
531 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
31st Jul 2015 7:08pm
31st Jul 2015 7:08pm
Be Careful What You Wish For
I shall seek out the "perfect woman"—
She who far exceeds the norm.
A divine feminine incarnation;
A goddess in face and form.
The image I envision
Is transcendent in every respect;
Her stunning appearance is only surpassed
By her towering intellect.
She’ll be spirited, modest, carnal, demure,
Artistic, logical, brave—
And any who try to misuse her will find
They've gained far more grief than they gave.
Preparing to launch my determined quest,
One small hiccup I do foresee—
Should I find such...
She who far exceeds the norm.
A divine feminine incarnation;
A goddess in face and form.
The image I envision
Is transcendent in every respect;
Her stunning appearance is only surpassed
By her towering intellect.
She’ll be spirited, modest, carnal, demure,
Artistic, logical, brave—
And any who try to misuse her will find
They've gained far more grief than they gave.
Preparing to launch my determined quest,
One small hiccup I do foresee—
Should I find such...
956 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by neo128
