Submissions by thepositivelydark
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Touched with fire.
SELF POEM
Published
5th Sep 2017 10:24pm
5th Sep 2017 10:24pm
Hours, A Day
The girl has only a few hours left before her teenage life ends. Would she be able to do all that she wishes to do as a teen before the clock strikes 12?
Seems like a coming of age movie.
A bildungsroman, maybe.
An anxiety inducing reality.
I belong to the night, I told them.
And I guess I understand why they think
That 2 am thoughts are some kind of poetic.
I have been back to living in the daylight.
My once paler skin now golden with sun,
And faceless friends now come with tangible ones.
I bought into the...
Seems like a coming of age movie.
A bildungsroman, maybe.
An anxiety inducing reality.
I belong to the night, I told them.
And I guess I understand why they think
That 2 am thoughts are some kind of poetic.
I have been back to living in the daylight.
My once paler skin now golden with sun,
And faceless friends now come with tangible ones.
I bought into the...
#dark
#women
#identity
#SelfReflection
#SelfDiscovery
868 reads
7 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
1st Aug 2017 9:26pm
1st Aug 2017 9:26pm
3:04
The voice and the texts were still there.
Inviting, enticing you to listen and enjoy yourself.
Strip, touch.
Press play.
To me,
Now they seem hollow.
Seventeen
When I found him
And his catalogue of orgasm inducing recordings -
A gift!
To a virgin -
Me.
Deep voice
And Irish charms
Led to dream worlds,
Dream touches,
Dream love,
Dream fuck.
Dream man.
There were many faceless men in my discovery
They're just voices.
Men who voices fantasy
And depravity ...
Inviting, enticing you to listen and enjoy yourself.
Strip, touch.
Press play.
To me,
Now they seem hollow.
Seventeen
When I found him
And his catalogue of orgasm inducing recordings -
A gift!
To a virgin -
Me.
Deep voice
And Irish charms
Led to dream worlds,
Dream touches,
Dream love,
Dream fuck.
Dream man.
There were many faceless men in my discovery
They're just voices.
Men who voices fantasy
And depravity ...
#LifeAsAWriter
1060 reads
8 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
15th Jul 2017 7:48am
15th Jul 2017 7:48am
Piece of Heaven
A piece of heaven must be this -
with a little kiss,
a little sigh.
A gentle hand
creeping up my thigh.
with a little kiss,
a little sigh.
A gentle hand
creeping up my thigh.
1281 reads
12 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
14th Jul 2017 7:21am
14th Jul 2017 7:21am
Selene Starry-eyed
He tried to capture her in photographs, nightly.
He was at odds with the sun and its white heat, you see.
It reminds him of two-faced purity - virginity and wedding dresses.
The sheets, the streets of his nights are for bleeding, and blooming paints.
For the pieces of brains that scream into the night what many can't at daylight.
And in their night wanderings,
They'd find Selene, lazing on her crescent moon, peaceful and bare.
They'd jump, reaching for strands of her long hair.
And Selene would flick her wrist this way and that, this way...
He was at odds with the sun and its white heat, you see.
It reminds him of two-faced purity - virginity and wedding dresses.
The sheets, the streets of his nights are for bleeding, and blooming paints.
For the pieces of brains that scream into the night what many can't at daylight.
And in their night wanderings,
They'd find Selene, lazing on her crescent moon, peaceful and bare.
They'd jump, reaching for strands of her long hair.
And Selene would flick her wrist this way and that, this way...
903 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
25th Apr 2017 9:05am
25th Apr 2017 9:05am
Missed Me
He was back in the dark alleys of rainfall,
And I
Touched with the tips of my fingers
Every lamppost I passed by.
He tilted his head;
Called for me to come closer.
Perhaps it was the swinging of my skirt -
The fabric creating poetic lies of dances
And
Falling to the floor.
Revealing skin untouched.
Perhaps it was these eyes,
Or these lips -
Unkissed and spitting fire,
This body -
Like it knows things
And have known for a while.
(It knows not a damn thing.)
...
And I
Touched with the tips of my fingers
Every lamppost I passed by.
He tilted his head;
Called for me to come closer.
Perhaps it was the swinging of my skirt -
The fabric creating poetic lies of dances
And
Falling to the floor.
Revealing skin untouched.
Perhaps it was these eyes,
Or these lips -
Unkissed and spitting fire,
This body -
Like it knows things
And have known for a while.
(It knows not a damn thing.)
...
1360 reads
12 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
11th Apr 2017 8:56am
11th Apr 2017 8:56am
Out Beyond
We are not each other's.
It is through the window
He comes,
We lie on the bed, exchanging kisses,
Touches - most not innocent - but stay
As only a
Teasing...
Of the body, the mind,
The soul -
A love
That is somewhat not love, but remains to be
Love.
Come night, he shall return to his battles
And I stay in the sky when I take the form of the moon,
Trying not to be blinded by the stars...
And he
Plays his flutes for me,
Asking me to come down.
Come morning, I shall wait -
Under...
It is through the window
He comes,
We lie on the bed, exchanging kisses,
Touches - most not innocent - but stay
As only a
Teasing...
Of the body, the mind,
The soul -
A love
That is somewhat not love, but remains to be
Love.
Come night, he shall return to his battles
And I stay in the sky when I take the form of the moon,
Trying not to be blinded by the stars...
And he
Plays his flutes for me,
Asking me to come down.
Come morning, I shall wait -
Under...
1171 reads
15 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
23rd Feb 2017 1:07pm
23rd Feb 2017 1:07pm
Quick, the gun!
Running's supposed to get you somewhere.
Out of breath, going nowhere.
And guns shoot heads in
computer screens,
And paints blend out in
computer screens,
And cakes bake
in computer screens,
And bodies shake in
computer screens.
Emptied out in
computer screens.
The blooming of a breakdown -
majestic, oh,
romantic, cine
matic.
What have you
learned about bleeding?
Getting,
getting in the meltdown,
holy!
Enjoy the motherfucking shitshow.
Out of breath, going nowhere.
And guns shoot heads in
computer screens,
And paints blend out in
computer screens,
And cakes bake
in computer screens,
And bodies shake in
computer screens.
Emptied out in
computer screens.
The blooming of a breakdown -
majestic, oh,
romantic, cine
matic.
What have you
learned about bleeding?
Getting,
getting in the meltdown,
holy!
Enjoy the motherfucking shitshow.
853 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Feb 2017 7:06pm
22nd Feb 2017 7:06pm
L
Almost 3:00 am, and I sit again, guts out -
in this moment,
the only way I know how.
No one is awake to listen
when my heart decides to shout.
When it suddenly decides
to look at the past
with different lenses.
It suddenly sees the subtleties.
Why did I ever forget?
The way the sun hits the water on the
campus lagoon,
the time I wrote a poem about the ducks
only to have them
chase me later.
The way the air conditioner always
makes the room
too cold
for our...
in this moment,
the only way I know how.
No one is awake to listen
when my heart decides to shout.
When it suddenly decides
to look at the past
with different lenses.
It suddenly sees the subtleties.
Why did I ever forget?
The way the sun hits the water on the
campus lagoon,
the time I wrote a poem about the ducks
only to have them
chase me later.
The way the air conditioner always
makes the room
too cold
for our...
792 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Feb 2017 4:53am
20th Feb 2017 4:53am
Musings (angst-ridden lovers) - II
Musings (angst-ridden lovers) - I : https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/245749-musings-angst-ridden-lovers---i/
.
.
.
The night floods back from the
marks he left.
And they were itching like scabs,
Healing, hopefully;
Hopefully, they would not leave
a huge scar.
Maybe a tiny spot,
...
.
.
.
The night floods back from the
marks he left.
And they were itching like scabs,
Healing, hopefully;
Hopefully, they would not leave
a huge scar.
Maybe a tiny spot,
...
912 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
18th Feb 2017 2:39pm
18th Feb 2017 2:39pm
tiny
Sometimes, no matter how much I have grown, sometimes
I feel like this tiny thing. Cowering.
No matter how much my mind have learned about being serene,
about seeking joy and brightness, my mind
goes to very dark places.
And the cold was comfortable. And the loss was familiar.
And it was not all the time
that anybody calls me back to the light.
And it is tempting, very tempting, to never
come back.
I have no fear of the dark.
But I...
I ache for a little lightness...
and the warmth of arms to tell me that ...
I feel like this tiny thing. Cowering.
No matter how much my mind have learned about being serene,
about seeking joy and brightness, my mind
goes to very dark places.
And the cold was comfortable. And the loss was familiar.
And it was not all the time
that anybody calls me back to the light.
And it is tempting, very tempting, to never
come back.
I have no fear of the dark.
But I...
I ache for a little lightness...
and the warmth of arms to tell me that ...
975 reads
9 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Feb 2017 2:34pm
18th Feb 2017 2:34pm
I Stand, Still in Awe
You are the balm for my raw heart,
And when I saw the tears you were fighting,
I hurt with you.
It's such a fucked up thing.
We the silent and mess,
Far from works of art.
This poem.
We idiotic youth.
But you were sweet, and you were honest,
And you never said you were perfect.
And we were caught in the grasp of sadness,
But you have strength.
They will paint us as monsters.
They dig the dirty needles in the haystack,
And I want to hide you from the world,
I want to hide you from myself,...
And when I saw the tears you were fighting,
I hurt with you.
It's such a fucked up thing.
We the silent and mess,
Far from works of art.
This poem.
We idiotic youth.
But you were sweet, and you were honest,
And you never said you were perfect.
And we were caught in the grasp of sadness,
But you have strength.
They will paint us as monsters.
They dig the dirty needles in the haystack,
And I want to hide you from the world,
I want to hide you from myself,...
960 reads
8 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
14th Feb 2017 8:46am
14th Feb 2017 8:46am
After Aftershocks
My body is a loud thing.
With its aching muscles, sheen of sweat -
With breath after heavy breath,
It aches and screams,
"More"
To the quivers and shakes,
"More"
To the tides washing whispers
Of "I can't,
I can't, I can't
Please,
I can't"
But I -
I do anyway.
My body is a quiet thing.
Like the times with guitars,
And honeyed voice in melodies,
It ripples quietly.
Its eyes closed...
Its fingers tapping,
Voice singing along -
It quietly
Simmers in ecstasy,
With no...
With its aching muscles, sheen of sweat -
With breath after heavy breath,
It aches and screams,
"More"
To the quivers and shakes,
"More"
To the tides washing whispers
Of "I can't,
I can't, I can't
Please,
I can't"
But I -
I do anyway.
My body is a quiet thing.
Like the times with guitars,
And honeyed voice in melodies,
It ripples quietly.
Its eyes closed...
Its fingers tapping,
Voice singing along -
It quietly
Simmers in ecstasy,
With no...
1283 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by thepositivelydark
