Submissions by personanongrata (persona non grata)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
self-called lyricist,poet, writer, or thinking mind ,inspired by life,pain,or life in pain,music, people,gods and ideas
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
7th Dec 2021 8:48am
7th Dec 2021 8:48am
The dynasty of my darkness, a letter to the inner child
As I was growing up, my smile was contracted, shrunk into a gnawing levelness, constructing a soulless amateur of aliveness mimic. My natural joy met its naturally unjustified highest peak when words could not be formed and crushed after I started giving them structure.
While the horn of Amalthea was feeding me secrets of the human abyss, through the eye blinding darkness of life, I saw the festive illumination of death, as the illusional gods of harmony and reason were absent.
Absent was my gratitude for this life also, therefore after I got tired being sad about my time here, I...
While the horn of Amalthea was feeding me secrets of the human abyss, through the eye blinding darkness of life, I saw the festive illumination of death, as the illusional gods of harmony and reason were absent.
Absent was my gratitude for this life also, therefore after I got tired being sad about my time here, I...
#LifeStruggles
#myself
#SelfDiscovery
227 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
13th Nov 2021 6:34pm
13th Nov 2021 6:34pm
Welcome to the show: Muerta
38 circles around the sun…
But the age in me feels older than the sun itself.
Its shine cannot illuminate the darkness of my soul.
The depth of my pain goes deeper than my most suppressed feelings.
My emotional body seems hollower than the emptiness of space.
Fragments of mine abuse every effort of my essence self to survive and thrive, they smile devilishly and satisfied with my inability to take control.
They want me dead. For death is the only way to accept this futility of not being born in another body, of not having another kind of life, another family,...
But the age in me feels older than the sun itself.
Its shine cannot illuminate the darkness of my soul.
The depth of my pain goes deeper than my most suppressed feelings.
My emotional body seems hollower than the emptiness of space.
Fragments of mine abuse every effort of my essence self to survive and thrive, they smile devilishly and satisfied with my inability to take control.
They want me dead. For death is the only way to accept this futility of not being born in another body, of not having another kind of life, another family,...
#identity
#death
#suicide
#shadows
#despair
404 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
11th Nov 2021 3:45am
11th Nov 2021 3:45am
Praise
I praise your thought, God!
You had a tangible idea
The stars running to their death
Forgetting the darkness
Craving the union
Being nourished with knowledge
In their circles and strings
I mentally exist …
Flaming remains of a fertile thought
The spirit of the sun
The soul of the whole
It travels in time
And within the space it's lost
It swings in the ether
On Earth it can feel…
I also praise your Moon
Its magic circle
A Human tide
It washes away secrets
Life is an algorithm
A...
You had a tangible idea
The stars running to their death
Forgetting the darkness
Craving the union
Being nourished with knowledge
In their circles and strings
I mentally exist …
Flaming remains of a fertile thought
The spirit of the sun
The soul of the whole
It travels in time
And within the space it's lost
It swings in the ether
On Earth it can feel…
I also praise your Moon
Its magic circle
A Human tide
It washes away secrets
Life is an algorithm
A...
#spiritual
217 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
10th Nov 2021 6:00am
10th Nov 2021 6:00am
I hate myself and I want to die
Live each day as if it is your last one
Because it is
Burry sadness in a field of rotten skulls and anhedonia
And call it bliss
Call my unicorns to fail, fear my unshown emotion
Maybe I should just pretend I am fine
Never have I been so close to death
My ego wants me to go down with it
Why should I resist or rest?
All is a reflection
I hate myself and myself hates me
This hatred is my legacy
I’m so tired on this fucking stage
I visualize I stab my chest
My energy is leaving my body
Farewell!
Because it is
Burry sadness in a field of rotten skulls and anhedonia
And call it bliss
Call my unicorns to fail, fear my unshown emotion
Maybe I should just pretend I am fine
Never have I been so close to death
My ego wants me to go down with it
Why should I resist or rest?
All is a reflection
I hate myself and myself hates me
This hatred is my legacy
I’m so tired on this fucking stage
I visualize I stab my chest
My energy is leaving my body
Farewell!
#dark
#identity
#death
173 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
10th Nov 2021 5:55am
10th Nov 2021 5:55am
the balm
I offer you my being
you give me back some guilt.
A mental fairy tale
Willingly rebuilt.
But the prince is already late
the kingdom now is lost.
Despair has conquered it
And this crown is a thorn,
that pierces my being
that curses my guilt
and balm on my sorrow:
my pupils when they shrink.
you give me back some guilt.
A mental fairy tale
Willingly rebuilt.
But the prince is already late
the kingdom now is lost.
Despair has conquered it
And this crown is a thorn,
that pierces my being
that curses my guilt
and balm on my sorrow:
my pupils when they shrink.
#addiction
279 reads
1 Comment
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
27th Sep 2021 6:38pm
27th Sep 2021 6:38pm
breathing
God told me that everything is a circle.
My breathe with every inhale meets its death in the atmosphere, to be reborn for the purpose of existence.
The air, the spirit of life, blown to a physical matter marks the beginning of any creation. Pneuma, wich means breathing, which means spirit is what we all are.
God told me that divinity resides in the ether. It then runs through our lungs and blood, shading light inside our mind, carried to every cell, gifting renewal and an extension of the earthly experience.
What could be the correspondent element of oxygen in our humble...
My breathe with every inhale meets its death in the atmosphere, to be reborn for the purpose of existence.
The air, the spirit of life, blown to a physical matter marks the beginning of any creation. Pneuma, wich means breathing, which means spirit is what we all are.
God told me that divinity resides in the ether. It then runs through our lungs and blood, shading light inside our mind, carried to every cell, gifting renewal and an extension of the earthly experience.
What could be the correspondent element of oxygen in our humble...
#spiritual
#LifeCycle
229 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
26th Sep 2021 6:08pm
26th Sep 2021 6:08pm
EROTICA
#sex
#erotic
#orgasm
426 reads
4 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
8th Sep 2021 9:53pm
8th Sep 2021 9:53pm
Idea
When an idea dies, it brings transformation to itself and its beholder.
Likewise the memory of a deceased loved one, the idea can continue existing in the dimension of thoughts.
Maybe it travels and gets lost in the desert, waiting for an alchemist to transform it to gold.
Maybe it whispers to angelic demons in their heads about the beauty of meaninglessness and the vanity of the yellow star arousal.
Weeping for their fall from the complex consciousness of men, ideas seek their existential purpose and the reasons behind the abandonment by their creators. ...
Likewise the memory of a deceased loved one, the idea can continue existing in the dimension of thoughts.
Maybe it travels and gets lost in the desert, waiting for an alchemist to transform it to gold.
Maybe it whispers to angelic demons in their heads about the beauty of meaninglessness and the vanity of the yellow star arousal.
Weeping for their fall from the complex consciousness of men, ideas seek their existential purpose and the reasons behind the abandonment by their creators. ...
#spiritual
#metaphor
#philosophical #symbolism
#philosophical #symbolism
200 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
8th Sep 2021 9:49pm
8th Sep 2021 9:49pm
TOXICITY
Toxic people are there to reveal to us the toxicity towards oursleves.
No person is actually toxic, all people are struggling to feel better in an environment where they feel, either it's justified or not, that it is hostile or threatening to their survival or well being.
Well being is subjective, as we all possess a different persona, a defensive ego and a uniquely shaped identity by the experiences of our lives.
Labeling a person as toxic is toxic itself.
Toxicity is a myth.
Determing with one word what someone is should be avoided, like we avoid to introduce...
No person is actually toxic, all people are struggling to feel better in an environment where they feel, either it's justified or not, that it is hostile or threatening to their survival or well being.
Well being is subjective, as we all possess a different persona, a defensive ego and a uniquely shaped identity by the experiences of our lives.
Labeling a person as toxic is toxic itself.
Toxicity is a myth.
Determing with one word what someone is should be avoided, like we avoid to introduce...
#philosophical
277 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Sep 2021 12:21pm
8th Sep 2021 12:21pm
strange world
There is a world where the people are invisible
Their thoughts appear to represent each one's mind
They interweave and they are shaping the physical
My own is shallow, egotistical and blind.
~
They get attached to a mass mental authority
They are victimized in the sight of blackest thoughts
I realize they are not the minority
This world is governed by chaotic forceful gods.
~
Within this chaos, there is infinite infinity
They are determined to stay alive at any cost
Often they pray to their own holy trinity
The Ether, Time...
Their thoughts appear to represent each one's mind
They interweave and they are shaping the physical
My own is shallow, egotistical and blind.
~
They get attached to a mass mental authority
They are victimized in the sight of blackest thoughts
I realize they are not the minority
This world is governed by chaotic forceful gods.
~
Within this chaos, there is infinite infinity
They are determined to stay alive at any cost
Often they pray to their own holy trinity
The Ether, Time...
#SelfReflection
154 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Sep 2021 12:16pm
8th Sep 2021 12:16pm
dream catcher
In a realm where the crow is believed to be a sign of aliveness,
and where the silence holds the seven trumpets muted,
the symbols expose their nature.
They are nothing but a complicated crochet dreamcatcher
covered by dust
with its colors faded by the sun
and its meaning altered by the intellect
and where the silence holds the seven trumpets muted,
the symbols expose their nature.
They are nothing but a complicated crochet dreamcatcher
covered by dust
with its colors faded by the sun
and its meaning altered by the intellect
#dreams
#SelfReflection
280 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Aug 2021 11:45am
20th Aug 2021 11:45am
Love is
Love isn’t your cover when it rains
I’s your runaway wagon
Like a mirror where you see your own reflection
Love isn’t what you have overcome
Or expecting what will arrive
It’s the constant spring in the eyes
the intertwined roots of the flora
the undefiled bottom of the ocean
it’s the words the wind will speak
to an old dying oak tree
I’s your runaway wagon
Like a mirror where you see your own reflection
Love isn’t what you have overcome
Or expecting what will arrive
It’s the constant spring in the eyes
the intertwined roots of the flora
the undefiled bottom of the ocean
it’s the words the wind will speak
to an old dying oak tree
#happiness
#love
#inspirational #uplifting
#inspirational #uplifting
224 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by personanongrata (persona non grata)
