Submissions by zenfool
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
i like fucking with words.
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Oct 2013 6:24pm
9th Oct 2013 6:24pm
you left me a long time ago (you just forgot to leave)
stumbled home, drunk and lonely,
but you were gone, there was only
a letter; a neatly folded letter.
all it said was you were just not happy
and i raced through the house, halfway batty.
that night… i went a little bit crazy.
but after beer and pills, with some introspection
i see you started leaving to your virtual reflection
years ago... at least two crappy houses ago.
cuz now I see
that you left me
a long time ago
(you just forgot to leave).
you pulled away into your hole
where all your friends are make...
but you were gone, there was only
a letter; a neatly folded letter.
all it said was you were just not happy
and i raced through the house, halfway batty.
that night… i went a little bit crazy.
but after beer and pills, with some introspection
i see you started leaving to your virtual reflection
years ago... at least two crappy houses ago.
cuz now I see
that you left me
a long time ago
(you just forgot to leave).
you pulled away into your hole
where all your friends are make...
804 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
9th Oct 2013 8:23am
9th Oct 2013 8:23am
Morrisonian
Emerald chaos
stitched red and wet into skin.
Willpower sigil.
Crazy Fucking Bitch.
Horror Marked Sociopath.
We deserved better.
a bit more rain now.
he still misses his mama.
new autumn beckons.
row 5 seat CJ.
you were supposed to be here.
smoke on still waters.
graduation day.
me dumped after 16 years.
a painful balance.
sigil completed.
part time superhero prof.
nemesis banished.
stitched red and wet into skin.
Willpower sigil.
Crazy Fucking Bitch.
Horror Marked Sociopath.
We deserved better.
a bit more rain now.
he still misses his mama.
new autumn beckons.
row 5 seat CJ.
you were supposed to be here.
smoke on still waters.
graduation day.
me dumped after 16 years.
a painful balance.
sigil completed.
part time superhero prof.
nemesis banished.
545 reads
0 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
9th Oct 2013 8:12am
9th Oct 2013 8:12am
First Brush with Evil
When I first heard the commotion outside, I had no clue what was going on. My friend Tyler and I were playing computer games inside when we heard Ty’s four yorkies going nuts outside, yapping and howling and growling in their tiny little useless lapdog way. Ty screamed “POSSUMS!”, grabbed a baseball bat that was kept by the back door, apparently for just this purpose, and raced outside with a stupid grin on his face. Intrigued, I followed.
A family of possums crouched on the back privacy fence, taunting the dogs. There was a big mean daddy looking one, a slightly smaller mama...
A family of possums crouched on the back privacy fence, taunting the dogs. There was a big mean daddy looking one, a slightly smaller mama...
748 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
8th Oct 2013 00:30am
8th Oct 2013 00:30am
Dog Days in White Rock
White Rock, Arkansas, was a temporary town, home to construction workers, illegal aliens, and old people left behind by their families. It consisted of a collection of pastel green pre-fab huts, rusty mobile homes (we called them trailers back then), and ancient RVs. My family moved around a lot while I was growing up; hell, you might say one, two, or even three new schools a year was normal for me. We moved enough that I considered myself at the age of seven to be somewhat of an expert travel guide, and I could honestly say White Rock was the dirtiest, most depressing place I had ever lived,...
865 reads
4 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
8th Oct 2013 00:01am
8th Oct 2013 00:01am
Blinded
Many years ago
a babe was born
on a sunlit night.
Who could know
that by morn
the babe would lose his sight?
Blinded by the light
from the sun that rose at night,
the light made his world dark
But for the light inside his heart.
One the night of his thirteenth birthday
the sun ruled the sky again.
The light flared hot inside his heart
and sight was restored to him.
He could see but unlike others
he saw into the hearts of men.
Lies can't hide inside the heart,
nor can secret sin.
Years went by
as...
a babe was born
on a sunlit night.
Who could know
that by morn
the babe would lose his sight?
Blinded by the light
from the sun that rose at night,
the light made his world dark
But for the light inside his heart.
One the night of his thirteenth birthday
the sun ruled the sky again.
The light flared hot inside his heart
and sight was restored to him.
He could see but unlike others
he saw into the hearts of men.
Lies can't hide inside the heart,
nor can secret sin.
Years went by
as...
776 reads
9 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th Oct 2013 2:21am
7th Oct 2013 2:21am
The Pink House Across the Street
From the house across the street,
you know, the pink one,
my house looks just fine.
It's white with green trim,
it has a lot of trees,
and a clothesline hangs from two of them.
From the house across the street
you can't see that the siding is rotting
and the paint is peeling away and flaking off.
You also can't really see the bare spots in the grass
where countless kids have built castles in the dirt,
pretending it was sand,
and packs of scraggly dogs have dug dozens of holes
for buried bones long forgotten.
From the house...
you know, the pink one,
my house looks just fine.
It's white with green trim,
it has a lot of trees,
and a clothesline hangs from two of them.
From the house across the street
you can't see that the siding is rotting
and the paint is peeling away and flaking off.
You also can't really see the bare spots in the grass
where countless kids have built castles in the dirt,
pretending it was sand,
and packs of scraggly dogs have dug dozens of holes
for buried bones long forgotten.
From the house...
637 reads
4 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
7th Oct 2013 2:19am
7th Oct 2013 2:19am
Bubblegum Chain
Jake spit it out the car window without a care, secure that his journey involved wheels instead of walking and thus it was no skin off of his ass. Seventeen cars, two trucks, and one motorcycle ran over it before it made it off the highway, hitching a ride on the hot undercarriage of an 18 wheeler into the parking lot of the Gas N Grill. George, the driver of the hot-bottomed truck, loved the Grill’s pork chops and had a crush on the hostess, Marge, so by the time he returned to his truck the undercarriage had cooled and the gum had fallen to the concrete.
Marge stepped on it as she...
Marge stepped on it as she...
722 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
6th Oct 2013 5:28am
6th Oct 2013 5:28am
Cynful
Eyes of green fire burn brightly
Warning others to proceed lightly
But I’ve always liked fire
And you always took me higher
So I’ll happily brave all sorts of burns nightly
Trust isn’t easy for me now
But you getting close I’ll always allow
Madonna or whore?
Both. I want more
And if need be I’ll show you how
Crazy for me? I’m crazy for you
Every time we touch it feels brand new
Your skin, your touch,
I want you so much
Tell me you want me too
You and I, bodies entwined,
Soul to soul, mind to mind
My name on...
Warning others to proceed lightly
But I’ve always liked fire
And you always took me higher
So I’ll happily brave all sorts of burns nightly
Trust isn’t easy for me now
But you getting close I’ll always allow
Madonna or whore?
Both. I want more
And if need be I’ll show you how
Crazy for me? I’m crazy for you
Every time we touch it feels brand new
Your skin, your touch,
I want you so much
Tell me you want me too
You and I, bodies entwined,
Soul to soul, mind to mind
My name on...
930 reads
7 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
6th Oct 2013 5:15am
6th Oct 2013 5:15am
Of Roses and Violence (or Forever is a State of Mind)
Roses are not forever red
"Trust me dear" is all you said
Violence is not always black and blue
And that's the love 'tween me and you
We parted ways not long ago
And though you were gracious and kind
When you say my name I feel such pain
Forever is a state of mind
A state of mind, a beggar blind,
A dagger red, the roses dead,
And the eye too dry to cry
Forever is a state of mind
Roses never remain red
Once the gardener's hand is cold and dead
Violence in love doesn't have to be blue
Once the frozen winter has...
"Trust me dear" is all you said
Violence is not always black and blue
And that's the love 'tween me and you
We parted ways not long ago
And though you were gracious and kind
When you say my name I feel such pain
Forever is a state of mind
A state of mind, a beggar blind,
A dagger red, the roses dead,
And the eye too dry to cry
Forever is a state of mind
Roses never remain red
Once the gardener's hand is cold and dead
Violence in love doesn't have to be blue
Once the frozen winter has...
824 reads
10 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
5th Oct 2013 5:22am
5th Oct 2013 5:22am
Trophies
The boy eyed the kitty eagerly through the screen window. Kitty had another trophy. Maybe it was a mouse or an egg. Once it had been a snake. The boy never knew what it might be, and he never ceased to be amazed at the things Kitty managed to find, steal, or kill. Whatever it was, it would soon belong to the boy. Day after day he tiptoed past his father, snoring on the couch, deftly skipping over empty bottles and overfull ashtrays, and slipped outside to confront Kitty. Sometimes Kitty led the boy into and through the woods out back, bouncing from ground to tree to ground, round and round,...
668 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
5th Oct 2013 5:16am
5th Oct 2013 5:16am
Echoes of Depression
Entering the small auditorium nervously, I spot Patty at a table in the back and head that way, sliding through the crowd. She looks nice in red and black, and so formal. Everyone here looks formal, actually. My grubby jeans and wiseass t-shirt can’t hide behind the pile of digests on the table. She smiles at me.
“Are you here to pick up your copy?” grabbing a digest.
“Not tonight. I’m broke” looking for a sign-up sheet.
“That’s ok, everyone who’s in it gets a free one” scanning her list.
“I’m not on the list this year” seeing no sign-up sheet.
“Oh” surprised.
...
“Are you here to pick up your copy?” grabbing a digest.
“Not tonight. I’m broke” looking for a sign-up sheet.
“That’s ok, everyone who’s in it gets a free one” scanning her list.
“I’m not on the list this year” seeing no sign-up sheet.
“Oh” surprised.
...
613 reads
3 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
4th Oct 2013 4:22am
4th Oct 2013 4:22am
Part Time Superhero
Goldstar flew through Metro City at slightly above the speed of sound, leaving golden flickering phantoms in his wake. Somewhere within the city the evil Professor Power had hidden five detonators, all of them linked to a fusion bomb. Which was also here somewhere. Only Goldstar had the speed necessary to deactivate all the detonators as well as the strength required to dispose of the bomb. He spotted a small silver cylinder in an alley ahead, and quickly ripped it open, removing its neutronium core, rendering it useless. Holding the core carefully, the masked avenger raced on.
...
...
604 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by zenfool
