Submissions by Ace_Avery (Clint Avery)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Words are my life. Writing poetry for 11 years. It's one of the greatest loves of mine. I have hopes of becoming a published/payed writer. Feel free to comment, or message me about my writing/questions you may have.I appreciate any interest in my work.
Crossed Out
Stained
glass forever,
perfection reduced
to shards in seconds,
his body
through
the window,
broken
glass
like love,
inhaling
his angel,
exhaling
his demons,
no crucifix,
his skeleton
wears a crown.
glass forever,
perfection reduced
to shards in seconds,
his body
through
the window,
broken
glass
like love,
inhaling
his angel,
exhaling
his demons,
no crucifix,
his skeleton
wears a crown.
30 reads
1 Comment
Wreckage
To say
the words I have
to say,
I must
first
find the moment
that is worth fighting
with my thoughts for;
a battery
of charging molecules
full of electricity.
I've beat
myself up over
being
too cliche,
like what did he say,
she say
with her sea
shells by the sea
shore,
still thinking
about what I wrote
the night
before.
Did I play with my
piece,
my poem,
my poetry,
or did I
just release my...
all to the page?
Was it a calling,
or a curse,...
the words I have
to say,
I must
first
find the moment
that is worth fighting
with my thoughts for;
a battery
of charging molecules
full of electricity.
I've beat
myself up over
being
too cliche,
like what did he say,
she say
with her sea
shells by the sea
shore,
still thinking
about what I wrote
the night
before.
Did I play with my
piece,
my poem,
my poetry,
or did I
just release my...
all to the page?
Was it a calling,
or a curse,...
30 reads
0 Comments
Come and Go (verse)
I've been coming out of these pussies since I burst out the womb/ matter of fact, I bury these bitches, so label me Dr. Doom / I'll send you wack rappers to Hell, burn you in a firey tomb/ undertaker cause I'll take your girl, like she takes my cum on a silver spoon/ no 18th century shit, there's no need to blush and swoon/ I murder a spree, Wu-Tang killa bee, my stinger's as hot as June/ so label me a menace, I'll rip your teeth out like a dentist, slay these morons and goons/ see, I wake up late and eat my breakfast at noon/ call me the Canadian kid cause I like to eat bacon and play...
53 reads
1 Comment
A Lion To Love
These shoes never got bloody
from sitting home safely;
I face my city
with ferocity.
Insatiable,
drawn to danger
like a lion to love,
torn between a beautiful kiss,
those deadly lips
left in the street
light.
The buildings that surround them,
a blur of brick and steel,
maybe I stole their eyes
from seeing the real me;
a booze hound
howling for a hunter
to bring me down.
The bottle always
brought with me
bad news,
those unlucky ladies
alone in their lace lingerie,
without a man to save...
from sitting home safely;
I face my city
with ferocity.
Insatiable,
drawn to danger
like a lion to love,
torn between a beautiful kiss,
those deadly lips
left in the street
light.
The buildings that surround them,
a blur of brick and steel,
maybe I stole their eyes
from seeing the real me;
a booze hound
howling for a hunter
to bring me down.
The bottle always
brought with me
bad news,
those unlucky ladies
alone in their lace lingerie,
without a man to save...
36 reads
0 Comments
Hunger Pains
I may be awake,
but nothing
seems real,
faces in the streets
look like empty dinner plates;
I'm starving.
Hungry for recognition,
yet I don't recognize
anything that I've written;
who knows who
will find me when I've given
up on trying
to make a living,
writing to make
my name known.
So tell me
what I've got left
to look forward to
when I can't see
what's in front of me;
I can barely remember
my past,
let alone
what happened
last night.
Label me
with your cliches and...
but nothing
seems real,
faces in the streets
look like empty dinner plates;
I'm starving.
Hungry for recognition,
yet I don't recognize
anything that I've written;
who knows who
will find me when I've given
up on trying
to make a living,
writing to make
my name known.
So tell me
what I've got left
to look forward to
when I can't see
what's in front of me;
I can barely remember
my past,
let alone
what happened
last night.
Label me
with your cliches and...
26 reads
0 Comments
At War
When I was five years old I walked behind my parents kicking a tin can, thinking to myself "this is freedom, no mom, or dad to hold my hand, no curfew, no rules, just me kicking my imaginary grenade through the battlefield". Hearing that tin can again, rolling across the pavement, I look back twenty-four years later as if it was only a day ago and think " why did I let go of their hands, I still need someone to guide me through this war within myself"...Fighting on the inside, not enough strength to go on...
30 reads
1 Comment
Paper Cuts
You're a cat,
a scaredy cat,
on your 9th life,
too frightened to take
any risks,
so hold your rough tongue
and lay there
by the window
licking your wounds;
paws littered
with paper cuts.
a scaredy cat,
on your 9th life,
too frightened to take
any risks,
so hold your rough tongue
and lay there
by the window
licking your wounds;
paws littered
with paper cuts.
62 reads
0 Comments
Pretending To Be Human
The grind is constant;
the wheels
of the push cart,
the work day,
the slow death
march,
my cavity filled teeth,
and the axe.
There is always
a standstill
when it comes
to a problem,
the staff screech
to a hault
like a locomotive
blowing out steam.
They try not to feed
the fire
with more coal,
but sometimes it's the only way
to keep the money moving.
Our pens wound
notepads with names
and numbers we rarely have
time to call,
let alone
lie
about the quality
of...
the wheels
of the push cart,
the work day,
the slow death
march,
my cavity filled teeth,
and the axe.
There is always
a standstill
when it comes
to a problem,
the staff screech
to a hault
like a locomotive
blowing out steam.
They try not to feed
the fire
with more coal,
but sometimes it's the only way
to keep the money moving.
Our pens wound
notepads with names
and numbers we rarely have
time to call,
let alone
lie
about the quality
of...
49 reads
0 Comments
This Lifetime
I've spent this lifetime trying to make
my words heard/from pouring my heart out on the page to falling off the curb/ the liqour had me swerving from left to right/ and like a boxer I threw up my fists to fight/ the pressure and the pain of being a lost and lonely soul/ just waiting on the moment when I could break free and steal the talent show/ so I built my words on a plateau higher than ever before/ found out that I didnt need the drugs and bottles anymore/ so I layed out a fresh page and stood back up from the floor/ leveled my head out, took to the sky and now I soar/ like a star...
my words heard/from pouring my heart out on the page to falling off the curb/ the liqour had me swerving from left to right/ and like a boxer I threw up my fists to fight/ the pressure and the pain of being a lost and lonely soul/ just waiting on the moment when I could break free and steal the talent show/ so I built my words on a plateau higher than ever before/ found out that I didnt need the drugs and bottles anymore/ so I layed out a fresh page and stood back up from the floor/ leveled my head out, took to the sky and now I soar/ like a star...
79 reads
2 Comments
Hell of a Love
I wear the scars
burnt
by the flames from her lips,
so much fire filled her eyes
I just couldn't resist
the temptation to kiss
a girl made from Hell.
They labeled me the boy
who fell from Heaven
to endure eternal torment
trying to find
what it means to love
a demon so much he would cut
his wrists in sin
so that he could see her once again.
Now I let the stars pour
from my burning wounds
until the last of the light
in my heart
fades out
and I fall through the earth
as a body of fire
towards...
burnt
by the flames from her lips,
so much fire filled her eyes
I just couldn't resist
the temptation to kiss
a girl made from Hell.
They labeled me the boy
who fell from Heaven
to endure eternal torment
trying to find
what it means to love
a demon so much he would cut
his wrists in sin
so that he could see her once again.
Now I let the stars pour
from my burning wounds
until the last of the light
in my heart
fades out
and I fall through the earth
as a body of fire
towards...
106 reads
4 Comments
Shift Work
The sound of the awkward
silence,
as she tries to light
her cigarette,
sitting nervously on the bench
next to a young man.
He is at a loss
for a flame,
she struggles with the wheel,
the flint won't strike,
she shakes the feul inside,
but still no fire.
It's the end
of her shift,
the beginning of his
at 5 a.m
before the sun hits
the streets.
So silently they sit,
not speaking,
the buzz of traffic
passes by,
it's raining,
a bus screeches to a hault;
he casually walks over
to the...
silence,
as she tries to light
her cigarette,
sitting nervously on the bench
next to a young man.
He is at a loss
for a flame,
she struggles with the wheel,
the flint won't strike,
she shakes the feul inside,
but still no fire.
It's the end
of her shift,
the beginning of his
at 5 a.m
before the sun hits
the streets.
So silently they sit,
not speaking,
the buzz of traffic
passes by,
it's raining,
a bus screeches to a hault;
he casually walks over
to the...
46 reads
2 Comments
Type Writer
They tell you
to work and pay taxes,
own a car and a house,
build a family
and call it freedom.
They tell you
not to dream too big,
don't protest their rules and laws,
they want to fill your head
with propoganda,
and control your mind
with news on the t.v set.
They tell you
war is for peace,
that foreign enemies are evil,
when their goverments are the real
villians
spending billions of the tax payers
dollars
on weapons instead of food
to feed the famished and...
to work and pay taxes,
own a car and a house,
build a family
and call it freedom.
They tell you
not to dream too big,
don't protest their rules and laws,
they want to fill your head
with propoganda,
and control your mind
with news on the t.v set.
They tell you
war is for peace,
that foreign enemies are evil,
when their goverments are the real
villians
spending billions of the tax payers
dollars
on weapons instead of food
to feed the famished and...
65 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Ace_Avery (Clint Avery)