Submissions by staggerlee (Paul Martin)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st May 2015 5:02am
21st May 2015 5:02am
If I were a rich man
If I were rich man.
I’d' stand upon my ivory tower,
And preach the laws of fiscal rectitude.
As I caress the cash in my saville row suit.
Some were born with silver spoons,
while others had all the right moves.
And here I am down and dirty,
among the clod hoppers and shitkickers.
with a shovel welded to my wrist.
I’d' stand upon my ivory tower,
And preach the laws of fiscal rectitude.
As I caress the cash in my saville row suit.
Some were born with silver spoons,
while others had all the right moves.
And here I am down and dirty,
among the clod hoppers and shitkickers.
with a shovel welded to my wrist.
868 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th May 2015 6:48am
11th May 2015 6:48am
WORDS
Words are just paint.
To capture life force,
Upon the page.
To capture life force,
Upon the page.
843 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Apr 2015 5:02am
29th Apr 2015 5:02am
The wondering wind
Down a lonesome corrider.
Of a forgotten alley.
The wise old wind whistles songs of freedom.
As tin cans scurry and dustbins rattle,
And paper dances in magical swirls
To its elusive melody.
The translucent light of the decaying dawn
soon fades to mist ,
and a new day hangs upon my shoulders
I am deaf to her chorus.
My mind confined to a vacuum.
Of daily banality
and the struggle to keep harsh reality at bay .
And I cannot answer when she asks,
What does your existence mean?
As you stand beneath a billion
Galaxies and infinite...
Of a forgotten alley.
The wise old wind whistles songs of freedom.
As tin cans scurry and dustbins rattle,
And paper dances in magical swirls
To its elusive melody.
The translucent light of the decaying dawn
soon fades to mist ,
and a new day hangs upon my shoulders
I am deaf to her chorus.
My mind confined to a vacuum.
Of daily banality
and the struggle to keep harsh reality at bay .
And I cannot answer when she asks,
What does your existence mean?
As you stand beneath a billion
Galaxies and infinite...
824 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Mar 2015 4:42am
15th Mar 2015 4:42am
A poem of indifference
What does it matter to me?
If plastic clogs the roaring seas.
All I want is convenience,
A life of ease.
Do you think I give a damn?
If they poison our wells.
And chainsaw scalpels,
Erases nature's tender hand.
I'm busy!
To busy silver plating my existence,
To worry about fallen trees
And dust bowl graveyards .
Where man's innocence comes to die.
Oh I will shed crocodile tears,
And reassure you everything will be fine.
It's good for business even better for the bottom line..
If plastic clogs the roaring seas.
All I want is convenience,
A life of ease.
Do you think I give a damn?
If they poison our wells.
And chainsaw scalpels,
Erases nature's tender hand.
I'm busy!
To busy silver plating my existence,
To worry about fallen trees
And dust bowl graveyards .
Where man's innocence comes to die.
Oh I will shed crocodile tears,
And reassure you everything will be fine.
It's good for business even better for the bottom line..
800 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
4th Mar 2015 5:47am
4th Mar 2015 5:47am
The lonesome fisherman
I'm tired of fishing for truth,
and catching only,
Worm eaten boots
And plastic flim-flam,
of egotistical minds,
This river is polluted!
With a million fallen dreams,
And spineless fish,
That cannot see,
So I raise a glass
To the strangers.
To the outsiders.
Who swim in isolation.
In deeper darker waters.
and catching only,
Worm eaten boots
And plastic flim-flam,
of egotistical minds,
This river is polluted!
With a million fallen dreams,
And spineless fish,
That cannot see,
So I raise a glass
To the strangers.
To the outsiders.
Who swim in isolation.
In deeper darker waters.
618 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
25th Feb 2015 11:28pm
25th Feb 2015 11:28pm
changing of the guard
CHANGING OF THE GUARD
After the signing of treaty in 1921 the struggle to gain the levers of power began in earnest. The southern Irish
middle class made up of old unionist elite, the catholic hierarchy, large land owners and the remnants
of the old civil service took the view that partition and the oath was preferable than a prolong conflict
with Britain which would undermine the old order even in the new nationalist state.
The question on everybody lips in late 1921 was what would a truly free Ireland would look like, in particular what class or classes would...
After the signing of treaty in 1921 the struggle to gain the levers of power began in earnest. The southern Irish
middle class made up of old unionist elite, the catholic hierarchy, large land owners and the remnants
of the old civil service took the view that partition and the oath was preferable than a prolong conflict
with Britain which would undermine the old order even in the new nationalist state.
The question on everybody lips in late 1921 was what would a truly free Ireland would look like, in particular what class or classes would...
866 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Feb 2015 5:02am
18th Feb 2015 5:02am
Insomnia
(FOR THOSE WHO CANT SLEEP)
Morpheus you traitor!
Why have you abandoned me?
And Left me to the mercies
Of my destructive mind.
The cruelty of silence,
The ceiling,
Engulfing walls.
The constant drip
Of some faraway tap.
This bed of sorrow,
This trap of regret,
and those forgotton voices
That linger within my soul.
Oh please Morpheus!
Won't you lay,
Your cool hand
Upon my brow,
And wash away today.
Morpheus you traitor!
Why have you abandoned me?
And Left me to the mercies
Of my destructive mind.
The cruelty of silence,
The ceiling,
Engulfing walls.
The constant drip
Of some faraway tap.
This bed of sorrow,
This trap of regret,
and those forgotton voices
That linger within my soul.
Oh please Morpheus!
Won't you lay,
Your cool hand
Upon my brow,
And wash away today.
806 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
9th Feb 2015 5:44am
9th Feb 2015 5:44am
Corporate ways
You were born to consume,
We are here to feed.
Your emptiness.
Is our profit.
We are here to feed.
Your emptiness.
Is our profit.
615 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Jan 2015 4:50am
30th Jan 2015 4:50am
Cliche beach
Standing upon cliche beach,
With waves of banality
Beating at my feet.
I scribble,
Crimson skies
Rising over sparkling seas,
I rip I tear,
Fumbling grumbling,
I kick into touch.
English is great language,
For selling chickenshit to strangers.
But not for elusive phantoms.
Who lurk beneath,
The fallacy of daily ritual .
I have no crown of thorns,
No existential pain,
Only words crawling in my brain.
Who fail to congeal to any useful being.
With waves of banality
Beating at my feet.
I scribble,
Crimson skies
Rising over sparkling seas,
I rip I tear,
Fumbling grumbling,
I kick into touch.
English is great language,
For selling chickenshit to strangers.
But not for elusive phantoms.
Who lurk beneath,
The fallacy of daily ritual .
I have no crown of thorns,
No existential pain,
Only words crawling in my brain.
Who fail to congeal to any useful being.
822 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Jan 2015 6:07am
19th Jan 2015 6:07am
the devil's juice
This is warning
A simple prose
For those
That want to sip
Upon the devil's piss
A toxic concoction
Distilled in pits of hell
By unstable goblins
And psycyopathic trolls
Rumble mintz is the brew
The man in the shop
Said you'll be fine
Just sip like you would any expensive wine
I woke up beneath a plastic chair
Somewhere between oblivion and reality
With bits of stuff stuck to my face
It feels like I lost the tread
That the space time continuum
Has cease to be
Is my body plugged into the mains? ...
A simple prose
For those
That want to sip
Upon the devil's piss
A toxic concoction
Distilled in pits of hell
By unstable goblins
And psycyopathic trolls
Rumble mintz is the brew
The man in the shop
Said you'll be fine
Just sip like you would any expensive wine
I woke up beneath a plastic chair
Somewhere between oblivion and reality
With bits of stuff stuck to my face
It feels like I lost the tread
That the space time continuum
Has cease to be
Is my body plugged into the mains? ...
788 reads
5 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
11th Jan 2015 5:35am
11th Jan 2015 5:35am
Universal Light
i am neither the creator
or the destroyer.
i am you ,
i am the light,
what does it matter,
if you mock me
or ridicule me,
for i always have
and will always be.
i promise nothing,
no bloody holy land,
or murderous calliphate,
and now we weep
for man and his frailities,
the sirens scream,
but they do not kill for me.
my only purpose is to exist.
i am your lover’s grasp,
and the smile in a new mother’s eyes..
the pleasure in laughter
and the tears upon a gravestone.
i am your empathy,
i am...
or the destroyer.
i am you ,
i am the light,
what does it matter,
if you mock me
or ridicule me,
for i always have
and will always be.
i promise nothing,
no bloody holy land,
or murderous calliphate,
and now we weep
for man and his frailities,
the sirens scream,
but they do not kill for me.
my only purpose is to exist.
i am your lover’s grasp,
and the smile in a new mother’s eyes..
the pleasure in laughter
and the tears upon a gravestone.
i am your empathy,
i am...
767 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Dec 2014 4:49am
30th Dec 2014 4:49am
Crash
twisted metal
entwined
like hate filled lovers
unnatural
unnecessary
a radio plays
a rihanna song
disbeliving eyes
wishing upon
heavenly stars
forgive me jesus
it wasn’t meant
to be this way
entwined
like hate filled lovers
unnatural
unnecessary
a radio plays
a rihanna song
disbeliving eyes
wishing upon
heavenly stars
forgive me jesus
it wasn’t meant
to be this way
773 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by staggerlee (Paul Martin)
