Fiction Poems
#fiction
Fiction poems, describing imaginary events and people. Fiction poetry is a genre which encompasses all writing about things which are untrue, born entirely out of our imaginations.
Fishmander
Poem Published
13th May 2022 8:02pm
13th May 2022 8:02pm
Monophobia
Teddy bears and toys
Paper sack to dull the noise
Feeling like a mannequin
Posed still in the void
In the wilds of scampish ghosts
In the gaze of deepest cold
I'm all alone, all alone
Tick-tick rings the clock
Where am I now-I've forgot
Hissing like a TV screen
Frantic and distraught
In pale streets of lullabies
In tall buildings plagiarized
I'm all alone, all alone
In labyrinths strangely schemed
In the space of fractured dreams
I found you.
Rocking chairs and suits ...
Paper sack to dull the noise
Feeling like a mannequin
Posed still in the void
In the wilds of scampish ghosts
In the gaze of deepest cold
I'm all alone, all alone
Tick-tick rings the clock
Where am I now-I've forgot
Hissing like a TV screen
Frantic and distraught
In pale streets of lullabies
In tall buildings plagiarized
I'm all alone, all alone
In labyrinths strangely schemed
In the space of fractured dreams
I found you.
Rocking chairs and suits ...
#depression
#dark
#betrayal
#fiction
#fear
27 reads
0 Comments
adagio
Poem Published
12th May 2022 11:08pm
12th May 2022 11:08pm
Sirus Radio
My dark shadow wore a scarf to keep it from the cold. Its
fingers were long and lean like feathers from a murder of
crows. As my demon uncorked the laudanum before my death
on the moors. Scratching my caul on the Sirus Radio before
the commercials changed to rolling the dice.
fingers were long and lean like feathers from a murder of
crows. As my demon uncorked the laudanum before my death
on the moors. Scratching my caul on the Sirus Radio before
the commercials changed to rolling the dice.
#fiction
41 reads
0 Comments
adagio
Poem Published
12th May 2022 10:42pm
12th May 2022 10:42pm
A Day In August
It was today, not unlike any day in August. It was so hot and
humid, that the mosquitos wore raincoats. The grasshoppers
were lazy and had lost a step, but the thrill of autumn was
near. My shadow did hula-hoops and granny read from the "good
book." Grandpa played his one-string fiddle and my sister
had a diaper rash. The sky was hung with clouds. The grist
mill whistled.
humid, that the mosquitos wore raincoats. The grasshoppers
were lazy and had lost a step, but the thrill of autumn was
near. My shadow did hula-hoops and granny read from the "good
book." Grandpa played his one-string fiddle and my sister
had a diaper rash. The sky was hung with clouds. The grist
mill whistled.
#fiction
39 reads
2 Comments
Orc_Pirate_68
Poem Published
6th May 2022 4:28am
6th May 2022 4:28am
Secrets
I wish I felt guilt
For the plan that I've built,
For the feelings I've felt,
The secret, shocked, aggressive, head tilt,
The aching heart wilt,
My voice with the fake lilt,
Pretending to be happy with seeing you,
But in actuality, this is true,
Wanting severely to get to you
And to brutally end you.
No more shall they see you,
First her, on the queue,
Then you'll be dead too,
And when the crime scene they view,
When the crime they review,
They'll see the same MO,
And they will know,
The chances of two...
For the plan that I've built,
For the feelings I've felt,
The secret, shocked, aggressive, head tilt,
The aching heart wilt,
My voice with the fake lilt,
Pretending to be happy with seeing you,
But in actuality, this is true,
Wanting severely to get to you
And to brutally end you.
No more shall they see you,
First her, on the queue,
Then you'll be dead too,
And when the crime scene they view,
When the crime they review,
They'll see the same MO,
And they will know,
The chances of two...
#dark
#death
#evil
#fiction
#horror
48 reads
1 Comment
Orc_Pirate_68
Poem Published
5th May 2022 5:19am
5th May 2022 5:19am
A Moment in Time
I slowly sit myself down in awe,
Savoring the moment, raw.
I have no need to rush,
I feel the velvet, cushion, under me, plush,
The arms of smooth, dark, varnished, wood,
Slick, and cold, against the skin of my arms, protrude
Into intricately carved ends, under my fingers,
The smell of blood...it lingers,
To remind me of how I got here,
But I shed not a tear.
I raise my arms up, hands open, claws to the sky,
I let out a hearty, evil, laugh, I didn't know I had, and sigh,
I sink back in my chair, this feels so right,
Sitting on...
Savoring the moment, raw.
I have no need to rush,
I feel the velvet, cushion, under me, plush,
The arms of smooth, dark, varnished, wood,
Slick, and cold, against the skin of my arms, protrude
Into intricately carved ends, under my fingers,
The smell of blood...it lingers,
To remind me of how I got here,
But I shed not a tear.
I raise my arms up, hands open, claws to the sky,
I let out a hearty, evil, laugh, I didn't know I had, and sigh,
I sink back in my chair, this feels so right,
Sitting on...
#dark
#gothic
#evil
#fiction
#horror
42 reads
0 Comments
Orc_Pirate_68
Poem Published
4th May 2022 9:02pm
4th May 2022 9:02pm
Trail of Death
A long shadow is cast
Over certain beings,
From this, I cannot fast,
As I do certain things.
A trail of shadowy death follows me
Everywhere I go to,
From each place I happen to be
Is a body, new.
I hide in the background,
Disguised emotionally,
Far away when they are found,
Tortured physically,
Beaten, stabbed, drowned, crushed, choked,
Buried alive, suffocated, hung, shoved, poisoned,
Burned half-alive, beheaded, or brakes removed.
Everywhere I go,
They will fall, this I know.
Over certain beings,
From this, I cannot fast,
As I do certain things.
A trail of shadowy death follows me
Everywhere I go to,
From each place I happen to be
Is a body, new.
I hide in the background,
Disguised emotionally,
Far away when they are found,
Tortured physically,
Beaten, stabbed, drowned, crushed, choked,
Buried alive, suffocated, hung, shoved, poisoned,
Burned half-alive, beheaded, or brakes removed.
Everywhere I go,
They will fall, this I know.
#murder
#death
#fiction
#suffering
#horror
40 reads
0 Comments
Orc_Pirate_68
Poem Published
4th May 2022 8:50pm
4th May 2022 8:50pm
A Murder's Beginnings
I feel it rising from down in my solar plexus,
The desire, disastrous,
Dark, creepy, frightening, dangerous,
It may seem a bit odd,
The need to play god,
But I want to feel the power surge through my body,
Something I'll have done to somebody.
I don't feel the same sometimes,
It used to frighten me at times,
But now, I feel it with pride,
I want to go along for the ride,
Let these feelings take control,
Let it briefly guide my soul,
Then when I'm done, pretend it never happened,
While everyone else is saddened,
I'll...
The desire, disastrous,
Dark, creepy, frightening, dangerous,
It may seem a bit odd,
The need to play god,
But I want to feel the power surge through my body,
Something I'll have done to somebody.
I don't feel the same sometimes,
It used to frighten me at times,
But now, I feel it with pride,
I want to go along for the ride,
Let these feelings take control,
Let it briefly guide my soul,
Then when I'm done, pretend it never happened,
While everyone else is saddened,
I'll...
#dark
#murder
#evil
#fiction
#horror
55 reads
2 Comments
Casted_Runes
Poem Published
3rd May 2022 10:58pm
3rd May 2022 10:58pm
What a Woman Means to Me
an essay
I wanted to write out my thoughts and feelings on the subject of the late American crime writer Patricia Highsmith in the context of what she and her work means to me in an essay because prose is a more analytical medium than poetry, which is more concerned I think with wit and beauty. I have written a poem on the subject, which you can find in my recent bibliography under the title “A Toxic Woman”, and thought about writing another. But to exorcise this demon I need to understand it, so to speak. Which isn’t to say that I want this essay to be dark or depressing at...
I wanted to write out my thoughts and feelings on the subject of the late American crime writer Patricia Highsmith in the context of what she and her work means to me in an essay because prose is a more analytical medium than poetry, which is more concerned I think with wit and beauty. I have written a poem on the subject, which you can find in my recent bibliography under the title “A Toxic Woman”, and thought about writing another. But to exorcise this demon I need to understand it, so to speak. Which isn’t to say that I want this essay to be dark or depressing at...
#violence
#fiction
#nonfiction
87 reads
4 Comments
Orc_Pirate_68
Poem Published
28th Apr 2022 00:25am
28th Apr 2022 00:25am
Under Your Nose
There is a sound that screams,
Silence that haunts dreams,
A cacophony of screams,
A silence of despair,
That you can never repair,
And for which, can never prepare.
A shattering of the mind,
A draining of the soul, you'll find,
A moment when the world was not so kind.
When reality rears it's ugly head,
The moment that you dread,
When you find one you love, dead.
Silenced by the hand of another,
Perhaps I'm that other,
Perhaps I'm a monster,
Hiding beneath your nose,
Oh, so awfully close,
But in the social...
Silence that haunts dreams,
A cacophony of screams,
A silence of despair,
That you can never repair,
And for which, can never prepare.
A shattering of the mind,
A draining of the soul, you'll find,
A moment when the world was not so kind.
When reality rears it's ugly head,
The moment that you dread,
When you find one you love, dead.
Silenced by the hand of another,
Perhaps I'm that other,
Perhaps I'm a monster,
Hiding beneath your nose,
Oh, so awfully close,
But in the social...
#dark
#death
#evil
#fiction
#horror
75 reads
2 Comments
wallyroo92
Poem Published
23rd Apr 2022 6:26pm
23rd Apr 2022 6:26pm
The Vessel
It was then that as the battle was raging on
A strange ship appeared above in the skies
And as all eyes turned upward the fighting stopped
Long enough to be mesmerized by it’s giant sails
A soldier from the north side of no man’s land
Fired a canon round toward the massive vessel
But it seemed that the hull’s shiny chrome and steel
Absorbed the shell as it descended slowly
In fear, both sides turned their fire on the craft
A fury of hell bombarded until smoke blinded them
But still, the ship, without making a sound
Landed...
A strange ship appeared above in the skies
And as all eyes turned upward the fighting stopped
Long enough to be mesmerized by it’s giant sails
A soldier from the north side of no man’s land
Fired a canon round toward the massive vessel
But it seemed that the hull’s shiny chrome and steel
Absorbed the shell as it descended slowly
In fear, both sides turned their fire on the craft
A fury of hell bombarded until smoke blinded them
But still, the ship, without making a sound
Landed...
#war
#science
#peace
#fiction
#humankind
56 reads
1 Comment
Em-ily
Poem Published
19th Apr 2022 3:37am
19th Apr 2022 3:37am
Fulsomeness a poem
Really though / I'm just / My mind generates / That's why / Mostly pontificating / Tons of bullshita.23.:4:33 and seeds
Really though / I'm just / thoughts (all of which are pressing self ever plastic, ever plastic within, living in). Intersections and influences. Trajections regard as well. The past, simplified of their own patterns of inclination, throughout life ever to changeable and My mind generates / That's why from behind us mostly information through self-present moment growing (patterns one is to even things out in that...
Really though / I'm just / thoughts (all of which are pressing self ever plastic, ever plastic within, living in). Intersections and influences. Trajections regard as well. The past, simplified of their own patterns of inclination, throughout life ever to changeable and My mind generates / That's why from behind us mostly information through self-present moment growing (patterns one is to even things out in that...
#fiction
#meditation
67 reads
0 Comments
javalini
Poem Published
11th Apr 2022 1:38pm
11th Apr 2022 1:38pm
PRAYERS ON THE TIN ROOF OF HEAVEN
prayers
are like rain
to god
so it's no wonder
he doesn't hear
many particulars
but just stands
at the window
listening to them
hit the roof
and watching them
puddle in the drive
and wash that part of the yard
where grass won't grow
and he wonders if the
roof is still leaking
and thinks he might
pull the ladder down
and check the attic
but, hell, he's so tired
and the rafters
will still be wet
with the want
and desperation
of 7.9 billion
some odd souls
if...
are like rain
to god
so it's no wonder
he doesn't hear
many particulars
but just stands
at the window
listening to them
hit the roof
and watching them
puddle in the drive
and wash that part of the yard
where grass won't grow
and he wonders if the
roof is still leaking
and thinks he might
pull the ladder down
and check the attic
but, hell, he's so tired
and the rafters
will still be wet
with the want
and desperation
of 7.9 billion
some odd souls
if...
#religion
#fiction
#mythology
69 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Fiction Poems
