Submissions by poeticfool
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Seasoned ( from the diary of a mad woman)
Spring hath come and gone
and for a wondrous moment Summer shone
Alas as no Autumn comes hither
Let us in Winter wither . . .
and for a wondrous moment Summer shone
Alas as no Autumn comes hither
Let us in Winter wither . . .
#sadness
#love
278 reads
2 Comments
Diary of a mad woman 20
To judge without observation
To observe without judgement
immeasurable presumptions
To observe without judgement
immeasurable presumptions
#dark
#lies
#TruthOfLife #hypocrisy
#TruthOfLife #hypocrisy
297 reads
2 Comments
Penny for your thourght . . .food for thourght
The Pastor sings in notes quite high.
Hymns that the crowd dare not pass on by.
They sway in unison transfixed in Sunday bliss.
Hands clasped as upon their troubles they silently lament and reminisce.
Whilst mothers and fathers frown, eyes closed in undulated devotion.
Children scatter to wooden floors, imagination and wonder in motion.
Tracing make believe pictures with chubby fingers
and exploring every nook and cranny for lost treasures.
Little eyes in various colors of splendor
Grow wide with sparkling wonder.
As...
Hymns that the crowd dare not pass on by.
They sway in unison transfixed in Sunday bliss.
Hands clasped as upon their troubles they silently lament and reminisce.
Whilst mothers and fathers frown, eyes closed in undulated devotion.
Children scatter to wooden floors, imagination and wonder in motion.
Tracing make believe pictures with chubby fingers
and exploring every nook and cranny for lost treasures.
Little eyes in various colors of splendor
Grow wide with sparkling wonder.
As...
#religion
#wisdom
#SelfWorth
273 reads
2 Comments
Mutterings of a Mad woman 15
#love
#erotic
#temptation #obsession
#temptation #obsession
402 reads
0 Comments
Erosion
Ashes to Ashes. . .
Dust to Dust. . .
Let the wind scatter
the only thing that remains of us.
For when all things are considered,
Nothing is denied the pleasure
of eroding to dust.
Dust to Dust. . .
Let the wind scatter
the only thing that remains of us.
For when all things are considered,
Nothing is denied the pleasure
of eroding to dust.
#dark
#TruthOfLife
#shame
#despair
#apathy
476 reads
3 Comments
What remains in the end . . .
Oh. . .
And how i licked the air
(from between cracked confinements)
to taste that which transported such delectable's to me.
Fueling an insatiable hunger within. . .
Alas it hit nothing but a dry breeze
which sought to parch my throat
And i realized it was nothing more
but a scent
that merely awakened
. . . a memory.
And how i licked the air
(from between cracked confinements)
to taste that which transported such delectable's to me.
Fueling an insatiable hunger within. . .
Alas it hit nothing but a dry breeze
which sought to parch my throat
And i realized it was nothing more
but a scent
that merely awakened
. . . a memory.
#sadness
#grief
#confusion
#greed
#disappointment
558 reads
3 Comments
The Lone Wolf Vent. . .
Like a lone wolf howling at the moon in need
in want. . .
for something it hasnt the power to ease
though you cry
and whine. . .
and whimper
The moon can never rub salve upon gaping wounds
nor can it douse the flames that incinerate from the core
It can never hear
nor will it understand
Comprehend my child
In its luminous cold beauty
it is merely a beacon of light
to illuminate your rejection in the dead of the night
A cold glare of luke warm luminescence
that even the chill of the night seems to fear...
in want. . .
for something it hasnt the power to ease
though you cry
and whine. . .
and whimper
The moon can never rub salve upon gaping wounds
nor can it douse the flames that incinerate from the core
It can never hear
nor will it understand
Comprehend my child
In its luminous cold beauty
it is merely a beacon of light
to illuminate your rejection in the dead of the night
A cold glare of luke warm luminescence
that even the chill of the night seems to fear...
#loneliness
#rejection
#heartbroken
#frustration
#confusion
687 reads
4 Comments
a letter from an admirer
Oh how wicked the gods were when they forged you...
How exquisitely erotic you are my dear...those eyes that haunt the gentle sway of your hips the firm line of your lips One can't help but look and wonder... There is that something. We must know... I must know! That allurance that dark look oh if only you knew the power you wield... But lo and behold for all that beauty all that erotic appeal there is the innocence of an ignorant child... Behind wise eyes that can easily judge and mock lays such sweet innocence... I want to taint you... Make you mine.. If only once! If I could have you...
How exquisitely erotic you are my dear...those eyes that haunt the gentle sway of your hips the firm line of your lips One can't help but look and wonder... There is that something. We must know... I must know! That allurance that dark look oh if only you knew the power you wield... But lo and behold for all that beauty all that erotic appeal there is the innocence of an ignorant child... Behind wise eyes that can easily judge and mock lays such sweet innocence... I want to taint you... Make you mine.. If only once! If I could have you...
795 reads
3 Comments
Diary of a Mad Woman 8
Sometimes you will merely cry.
And sometimes the desire to taste death will consume you.
You will even try.
Atempt to end the excruciating reality of endurance
You will walk around. . .
with that newly sharpened knife,
contemplating. . .
Nearly atempting to ride it across your skin
Grating it up and down.
Up and down.
Slashing till you reach bone.
Until physical pain temporarily overpowers emotional pains
like the moon that wanes only to wax again. . .
But instead you put away the knife
and sigh.
You will live...
And sometimes the desire to taste death will consume you.
You will even try.
Atempt to end the excruciating reality of endurance
You will walk around. . .
with that newly sharpened knife,
contemplating. . .
Nearly atempting to ride it across your skin
Grating it up and down.
Up and down.
Slashing till you reach bone.
Until physical pain temporarily overpowers emotional pains
like the moon that wanes only to wax again. . .
But instead you put away the knife
and sigh.
You will live...
786 reads
8 Comments
an obsurd write. . .
786 reads
9 Comments
Diary of a Mad Woman 7
I saw the bad in everything.
Of bloodcl0ts running green.
Spewing rotting flesh.
Of a hell so surreal
One need not touch to be charred.
Of bloodcl0ts running green.
Spewing rotting flesh.
Of a hell so surreal
One need not touch to be charred.
678 reads
4 Comments
wolf in sheeps cl0thing.
I locked eyes with sin today
It tainted me
even before it swallowed me whole
Reeking of impurity
Hidden within a chizeled angels guise.
Of softness with an infinitely hollowed darkness
If only i had witnessed its fangs
before it had nipped me dirty.
But alas, whats done is done
and n0w i shall burn
This m0lten cave now active
Where my innocence once stayed.
It tainted me
even before it swallowed me whole
Reeking of impurity
Hidden within a chizeled angels guise.
Of softness with an infinitely hollowed darkness
If only i had witnessed its fangs
before it had nipped me dirty.
But alas, whats done is done
and n0w i shall burn
This m0lten cave now active
Where my innocence once stayed.
722 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by poeticfool