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
DARK POEM
Published
18th Apr 2023 3:40pm
18th Apr 2023 3:40pm
nothingness
I thought
I was done with cycles of absurd self abuse
It seems
only death can save me from them
But the foolish instict of survival
keeps my torture alive
flesh and bones linger around
like a zombie with an emotional turmoil
And I beg
any force
to just turn me
inot nothingness
I was done with cycles of absurd self abuse
It seems
only death can save me from them
But the foolish instict of survival
keeps my torture alive
flesh and bones linger around
like a zombie with an emotional turmoil
And I beg
any force
to just turn me
inot nothingness
#SelfHarm
#SelfReflection
269 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
18th Apr 2023 11:50am
18th Apr 2023 11:50am
fermented feelings
Fermented feelings
Draining from wounds
of innocence
They accompany the absence of safety
And bleed on You
Draining from wounds
of innocence
They accompany the absence of safety
And bleed on You
#SelfReflection
212 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Jan 2023 7:17am
19th Jan 2023 7:17am
THOU SHALL SEE
Who am I to say who I am
in this foggy void of still existence
dragging trash of my abnoxious expressions
leaves me in fluctuating waves of life
Fear not of what is on the other side
This bridge is a holy crossroad of your souls
I am willing but what happens if I fall?
I may realize I am not truly standing up.
The fear of tomorrow meet the unreal past
Mindless games of the survival brain
desparate to remain unchanged
ignorant of cause and effect meaning
There is a mystical guiding line though
Its language is...
in this foggy void of still existence
dragging trash of my abnoxious expressions
leaves me in fluctuating waves of life
Fear not of what is on the other side
This bridge is a holy crossroad of your souls
I am willing but what happens if I fall?
I may realize I am not truly standing up.
The fear of tomorrow meet the unreal past
Mindless games of the survival brain
desparate to remain unchanged
ignorant of cause and effect meaning
There is a mystical guiding line though
Its language is...
#identity
#learning
142 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
16th Jan 2023 4:09am
16th Jan 2023 4:09am
blank
Staring my self reflection on a blank page
with a few lines to mirror my reality
Fear, insticts and a hidden rage
A living force that threatens vitality
Who am I, what the hell is this place
Why can't I find a adaquate answer
I'm disgusted, then I'm awely maged
my ego is the worst kind of cancer
I shift from one self to another
peace is a chaotic cofusion
I unweave ties of the past
to see through this dellusion
with a few lines to mirror my reality
Fear, insticts and a hidden rage
A living force that threatens vitality
Who am I, what the hell is this place
Why can't I find a adaquate answer
I'm disgusted, then I'm awely maged
my ego is the worst kind of cancer
I shift from one self to another
peace is a chaotic cofusion
I unweave ties of the past
to see through this dellusion
#LifeCycle
#SelfDiscovery
244 reads
0 Comments
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
356 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
519 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
422 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
254 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
415 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
396 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
26th Sep 2021 6:08pm
26th Sep 2021 6:08pm
EROTICA
#sex
#erotic
#orgasm
526 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
314 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by personanongrata (persona non grata)
