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.
randyjohnson
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:49am
Yesterday 1:49am
I'll Be Sent Straight To Hell
My wife and I both worked at a video game store.
They closed and we're not working there anymore.
They closed their doors because of this damn Coronavirus.
We're unemployed and no other businesses are willing to hire us.
We got our twelve hundred bucks from the Government but we had to pay a hospital bill.
We're in a sinking boat and it's going down fast, I wish that the Coronavirus wasn't real.
Our families and friends can't help us and we need cash.
I'm so desperate that I'm about to do something that's rash.
I need money because I'm out of a job. ...
They closed and we're not working there anymore.
They closed their doors because of this damn Coronavirus.
We're unemployed and no other businesses are willing to hire us.
We got our twelve hundred bucks from the Government but we had to pay a hospital bill.
We're in a sinking boat and it's going down fast, I wish that the Coronavirus wasn't real.
Our families and friends can't help us and we need cash.
I'm so desperate that I'm about to do something that's rash.
I need money because I'm out of a job. ...
#money
#fiction
#tragedy #pandemic
#tragedy #pandemic
20 reads
0 Comments
Strangeways_Rob
Poem Published
24th Jun 2020 10:04pm
24th Jun 2020 10:04pm
Talking To Alan Bennett About Penguins
LIGHT FADES
‘Appen an axe may befall me
In ginnel or wintry wood
Should be of rust and oak;
A refined English death such as
The charge of the light brigade
Would not suit my constitution.
Bloomsbury bric-a-brac shrinks
Under an idle twilight,
The Stephen sisters sketched
Sipping tea, seemingly, from
Over the planet’s lip.
Bookshelves creak under passion.
Walls of the vase grow thin
White petals darkened by fetid water.
Above all else
Shit will always grow to surface.
Fussy BBC lady...
‘Appen an axe may befall me
In ginnel or wintry wood
Should be of rust and oak;
A refined English death such as
The charge of the light brigade
Would not suit my constitution.
Bloomsbury bric-a-brac shrinks
Under an idle twilight,
The Stephen sisters sketched
Sipping tea, seemingly, from
Over the planet’s lip.
Bookshelves creak under passion.
Walls of the vase grow thin
White petals darkened by fetid water.
Above all else
Shit will always grow to surface.
Fussy BBC lady...
#fiction
#respect
54 reads
4 Comments
DevilsChild
Poem Published
22nd Jun 2020 10:29am
22nd Jun 2020 10:29am
Axdromeda
I crashed on Earth some time ago
used to be high up in the sky back then
the stars are home to little green men
that’s where I fit in
it all started while investigating
finding a newly discovered species
hoped to share their world
for my people's ongoing living
this led to my ship being shot down
trapped in rubble while I was left bleeding
watched as military surrounded my body
yet, that was so long ago
looking up at glimmers, thinking
how long till the sun starts sinking
crashing down on my...
used to be high up in the sky back then
the stars are home to little green men
that’s where I fit in
it all started while investigating
finding a newly discovered species
hoped to share their world
for my people's ongoing living
this led to my ship being shot down
trapped in rubble while I was left bleeding
watched as military surrounded my body
yet, that was so long ago
looking up at glimmers, thinking
how long till the sun starts sinking
crashing down on my...
#politics
#fiction
#aliens #scifi
#aliens #scifi
51 reads
11 Comments
Jezkeebs
Poem Published
20th Jun 2020 6:01pm
20th Jun 2020 6:01pm
Camlin
Camlin the magician
Has crazy eyes
Trades with the Zai
For treasures from another time
Patchwork Plains
city of chrystal domes
Immortal home
Of the Zai with secrets Camlin finds
Ancient metal talking mirrors
Trapped demons in glass prisms
Dream beads dug from sand
In the waste beyond the Easternland
Knives that cut through wood and steel
Pills that are like a three course meal
Goodies piled high
By the Zai
For trinkets from the other side
He trades
Manuscripts from Muttermot
In the...
Has crazy eyes
Trades with the Zai
For treasures from another time
Patchwork Plains
city of chrystal domes
Immortal home
Of the Zai with secrets Camlin finds
Ancient metal talking mirrors
Trapped demons in glass prisms
Dream beads dug from sand
In the waste beyond the Easternland
Knives that cut through wood and steel
Pills that are like a three course meal
Goodies piled high
By the Zai
For trinkets from the other side
He trades
Manuscripts from Muttermot
In the...
#dreams
#rhyming
#fiction #magic
#fiction #magic
41 reads
0 Comments
Azabache_Cuervo
Poem Published
16th Jun 2020 1:22am
16th Jun 2020 1:22am
Autumn Rain
#love
#sex
#erotic
#fiction
#sensual
194 reads
2 Comments
randyjohnson
Poem Published
16th Jun 2020 00:02am
16th Jun 2020 00:02am
Stolen Ford Truck
A jerk thought he was being smart when he stole my Ford truck.
But he didn't know that it had no brakes and he was out of luck.
I removed the worn out ones but I hadn't gotten around to putting on new brakes.
The thief soon realized that stealing my truck was a bad idea and a huge mistake.
When I saw that my truck was gone, I called the cops.
When that thief was driving my truck, he couldn't stop.
He was in big trouble because he drove off a cliff.
One minute he was alive and the next, he was a stiff.
His family blamed me for not replacing...
But he didn't know that it had no brakes and he was out of luck.
I removed the worn out ones but I hadn't gotten around to putting on new brakes.
The thief soon realized that stealing my truck was a bad idea and a huge mistake.
When I saw that my truck was gone, I called the cops.
When that thief was driving my truck, he couldn't stop.
He was in big trouble because he drove off a cliff.
One minute he was alive and the next, he was a stiff.
His family blamed me for not replacing...
#fiction
#funny
32 reads
1 Comment
Orc_Pirate_68
Poem Published
12th Jun 2020 4:27am
12th Jun 2020 4:27am
Art
Reaching for the knife, body filled with strife,
Eyes with tears, worn plastic on my fingers,
Taking life, turning it into nonlife,
Something worse, from which I couldn't reverse.
Ready to plunge it into her body,
Ready to hear flesh rip, and see blood drip,
Destroy her psyche, and end her posse,
Her, on a one-way trip, on Death's flagship.
Adrenaline rushes, her blood gushes,
Matted hair of her head hits the mud, *THUD!*
It's just buisness, deserved the abuses,
Happy for her torture, brings me rapture.
Surreal art exhibit, in closed...
Eyes with tears, worn plastic on my fingers,
Taking life, turning it into nonlife,
Something worse, from which I couldn't reverse.
Ready to plunge it into her body,
Ready to hear flesh rip, and see blood drip,
Destroy her psyche, and end her posse,
Her, on a one-way trip, on Death's flagship.
Adrenaline rushes, her blood gushes,
Matted hair of her head hits the mud, *THUD!*
It's just buisness, deserved the abuses,
Happy for her torture, brings me rapture.
Surreal art exhibit, in closed...
#happiness
#dark
#murder
#death
#fiction
58 reads
0 Comments
Parabellus-Rose1
Parabellus
Parabellus
Poem Published
10th Jun 2020 3:58am
10th Jun 2020 3:58am
Christmas Carol Prequel : The Three Ghost's Meeting
Future Ghost : "Merry Christmas peeps , how are you ?"
Past Ghost : "Heya , I'm not too bad thanks"
Present Ghost : "Hey , long time no see..."
Present Ghost : "Haha , get it , because we're Ghosts...."
Future Ghost : "Oh gosh , Oh how I missed your humor... oh wait I haven't.."
Present Ghost : "No need to look so grim , hahaha get it , because you look like the Grim Rea-...."
Future Ghost : "Shut up."
Past Ghost : "Hahaha... you have to admit Future , that was a good one"
...
Past Ghost : "Heya , I'm not too bad thanks"
Present Ghost : "Hey , long time no see..."
Present Ghost : "Haha , get it , because we're Ghosts...."
Future Ghost : "Oh gosh , Oh how I missed your humor... oh wait I haven't.."
Present Ghost : "No need to look so grim , hahaha get it , because you look like the Grim Rea-...."
Future Ghost : "Shut up."
Past Ghost : "Hahaha... you have to admit Future , that was a good one"
...
#Christmas
#fiction
#prose #dialogue
#prose #dialogue
29 reads
0 Comments
Velvet
Poem Published
29th May 2020 10:44am
29th May 2020 10:44am
Kentucky Fried Chicken
It just so happens that I got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning.
I had been lying, prone and dead to the world, when all of a sudden, and to my complete dissatisfaction, I was awoken by a loud, self-serving ‘Top of the Morning to You’ aimed directly at me. It was coming from an easterly direction, from behind the neighbour’s fence. I knew who the culprit was immediately, for it was none other than that retard cockerel, Foghorn Leghorn.
I needed to get the Hell out of my room, so I slipped on a freshly starched White Collar, and staggered outside, with my...
I had been lying, prone and dead to the world, when all of a sudden, and to my complete dissatisfaction, I was awoken by a loud, self-serving ‘Top of the Morning to You’ aimed directly at me. It was coming from an easterly direction, from behind the neighbour’s fence. I knew who the culprit was immediately, for it was none other than that retard cockerel, Foghorn Leghorn.
I needed to get the Hell out of my room, so I slipped on a freshly starched White Collar, and staggered outside, with my...
#fiction
71 reads
0 Comments
Orc_Pirate_68
Poem Published
28th May 2020 4:56am
28th May 2020 4:56am
Guise
Wearing my mask,
Its two cylinders, make them ask
Themselves, "Is that a splattering of red paint?or....blood?"
Large, black, spikes, one on both sides, one on the front,
A "stay away" message, blunt.
Black, oil slick chains drape down in loops, from the front, against my neck, they brush,
Making me blush,
Reminding me of my gunmetal and steel endoskeleton,
The strength that resides within me to reduce a person to a skeleton.
My mask is my guise,
Hiding them from the monster of their demise,
Hiding my perverse, morbid,...
Its two cylinders, make them ask
Themselves, "Is that a splattering of red paint?or....blood?"
Large, black, spikes, one on both sides, one on the front,
A "stay away" message, blunt.
Black, oil slick chains drape down in loops, from the front, against my neck, they brush,
Making me blush,
Reminding me of my gunmetal and steel endoskeleton,
The strength that resides within me to reduce a person to a skeleton.
My mask is my guise,
Hiding them from the monster of their demise,
Hiding my perverse, morbid,...
#dark
#murder
#gothic
#fiction
#dance
60 reads
0 Comments
adagio
Poem Published
19th May 2020 5:52pm
19th May 2020 5:52pm
Tot Of Rum
Often awakening at night with a sweat
being chased by a harrier of my mind
holding to the bedpost riding the storm
as if on a two-masted schooner
with a daily tot of rum
hearing echoes from the quarterdeck
a figurehead of the devil grinned
as Charon rowed the waves
to the isle of bones
looking for the Fountain of Youth
with a daily tot of rum
being chased by a harrier of my mind
holding to the bedpost riding the storm
as if on a two-masted schooner
with a daily tot of rum
hearing echoes from the quarterdeck
a figurehead of the devil grinned
as Charon rowed the waves
to the isle of bones
looking for the Fountain of Youth
with a daily tot of rum
#dreams
#fiction
45 reads
3 Comments
Strangeways_Rob
Poem Published
15th May 2020 10:22pm
15th May 2020 10:22pm
only yesterday, when we were mad
In delirium, et tu brutal,
Woodpecker-jabber of
‘Making houses from horses.’
&
Endless rewording of biography
Of him
Yet,
Not of him.
‘Last night I dreamt I was in Japan. Cauldrons of wayward wind pinned me to pagoda, mountains of inked cherry blossom slit my skin. Woken by the sound of sun thrashing aluminium rooves and fragrance of porcelain bowled shirumono soup. I cradled the bowl and tiger slurped. Wrapped myself in kamikaze kimono and with no thought for the impending mess on the floor, leapt to my death. It was my 25th death of...
Woodpecker-jabber of
‘Making houses from horses.’
&
Endless rewording of biography
Of him
Yet,
Not of him.
‘Last night I dreamt I was in Japan. Cauldrons of wayward wind pinned me to pagoda, mountains of inked cherry blossom slit my skin. Woken by the sound of sun thrashing aluminium rooves and fragrance of porcelain bowled shirumono soup. I cradled the bowl and tiger slurped. Wrapped myself in kamikaze kimono and with no thought for the impending mess on the floor, leapt to my death. It was my 25th death of...
#love
#faith
#fiction #surreal
#fiction #surreal
88 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Fiction Poems
