Submissions by Dresdamanx
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I am a stream of consciousness writer, who relies on my subliminal awareness to produce. It seems the harder I try to be a "Poet", the less interesting my work is.
My Church
I am going to create a church,
a church based on motorcycling.
Called the Deus Ex Machina Church,
"God is in the Machine" church.
"But there is no God!, my wife says.
"God is a concept", I reply, "the concept
of salvation."
God was created by man,
as motorcycles
are created by man.
The Motorcycles promise of salvation
is more tangible,
and they demand pious attention
to stay alive while in worship.
Their Zen comes
in the blend of man
and motorcyle.
Their...
a church based on motorcycling.
Called the Deus Ex Machina Church,
"God is in the Machine" church.
"But there is no God!, my wife says.
"God is a concept", I reply, "the concept
of salvation."
God was created by man,
as motorcycles
are created by man.
The Motorcycles promise of salvation
is more tangible,
and they demand pious attention
to stay alive while in worship.
Their Zen comes
in the blend of man
and motorcyle.
Their...
64 reads
2 Comments
From Olive Drab to Cornflower Blue
The end of the killing had begun,
and it was as if the world was just awakening,
finding its conscience again,
and its connection with reality.
America was just adjusting,
to becoming the heir to
the throne of the World.
Abundance and Peace,
bought with millions of pints
of pure spirited blood,
was cascading around our shoulders.
We drank and bopped,
as Jazz worked so hard,
in vain,
to cleanse our hearts,
of scenes & smells,
forever burned,
into drafted minds.
I had been demobbed...
and it was as if the world was just awakening,
finding its conscience again,
and its connection with reality.
America was just adjusting,
to becoming the heir to
the throne of the World.
Abundance and Peace,
bought with millions of pints
of pure spirited blood,
was cascading around our shoulders.
We drank and bopped,
as Jazz worked so hard,
in vain,
to cleanse our hearts,
of scenes & smells,
forever burned,
into drafted minds.
I had been demobbed...
66 reads
0 Comments
Two Spun Into One
A gentle man met a gentle woman,
they talked for a long time,
deciding to be friends.
He liked her face,
she liked his eyes,
he rode a Triumph motorcycle,
but wore glasses,
and was therefore safe,
she got a thrill
when he picked her up for dates.
He was enthralled with her hips,
that swayed under flowered skirts,
she wore them below the knee,
and was therefore chaste,
he got a thrill
following her up stairs.
They were calm of spirit,
and of word,
silence was not an...
they talked for a long time,
deciding to be friends.
He liked her face,
she liked his eyes,
he rode a Triumph motorcycle,
but wore glasses,
and was therefore safe,
she got a thrill
when he picked her up for dates.
He was enthralled with her hips,
that swayed under flowered skirts,
she wore them below the knee,
and was therefore chaste,
he got a thrill
following her up stairs.
They were calm of spirit,
and of word,
silence was not an...
106 reads
2 Comments
Mind, Entombed (Haiku)
I turn gray in minds,
Fading into limbo’s arms,
My screams don’t echo
Limbs refuse commands,
Desires lose their urgency,
Memory fragments remain
I am gone from you,
As life has turned me gently,
Winter white from Autumn orange
My fear is age lived,
Decay begun in earnest,
Mortal, divine faults
Names lost, passion mute,
Mastery of life undone,
Waking Death comes while hearts pulse
I will haunt my body,
From the inside dragging chains,
Howling your name Banshee-like
Until the...
Fading into limbo’s arms,
My screams don’t echo
Limbs refuse commands,
Desires lose their urgency,
Memory fragments remain
I am gone from you,
As life has turned me gently,
Winter white from Autumn orange
My fear is age lived,
Decay begun in earnest,
Mortal, divine faults
Names lost, passion mute,
Mastery of life undone,
Waking Death comes while hearts pulse
I will haunt my body,
From the inside dragging chains,
Howling your name Banshee-like
Until the...
104 reads
4 Comments
Solitude is Salvation
I usually wake,
to cry of an infant
across the court in my complex.
It wails and screams
against the burden
of infancy and life,
I shut the window
which usually works.
But my mind is awake,
and I must quiet the
explosions of madness
therein.
So I shuffle over
to the icebox,
and pray I stocked it
with last months dole,
and the broads in here last night
didn't steal everything
after I kicked them out....
The tension is thick in my heart
as I open the door.....
...
to cry of an infant
across the court in my complex.
It wails and screams
against the burden
of infancy and life,
I shut the window
which usually works.
But my mind is awake,
and I must quiet the
explosions of madness
therein.
So I shuffle over
to the icebox,
and pray I stocked it
with last months dole,
and the broads in here last night
didn't steal everything
after I kicked them out....
The tension is thick in my heart
as I open the door.....
...
66 reads
3 Comments
Gurus Are Fake
Bukowski told me in dream,
“Art is not life & life is not Art,
because Art sustains the spirit & life
can destroy it!”
“So don't be fooled you sap”
he said, “quit waiting for some asshole
to pat you on the head and say,
good job."
The Lesson:
Make your own grand finale,
leave a 75 ft skid mark,
and a messy accident scene,
or die in a diaper
safe in your bed
surrounded by offspring
and jabbering clergy
either way, you end up in a hole
The choice is yours...
I woke up the next morning,...
“Art is not life & life is not Art,
because Art sustains the spirit & life
can destroy it!”
“So don't be fooled you sap”
he said, “quit waiting for some asshole
to pat you on the head and say,
good job."
The Lesson:
Make your own grand finale,
leave a 75 ft skid mark,
and a messy accident scene,
or die in a diaper
safe in your bed
surrounded by offspring
and jabbering clergy
either way, you end up in a hole
The choice is yours...
I woke up the next morning,...
101 reads
2 Comments
Black Among the Gray
Oh how we must watch,
for those weary souls
who sit among us in silent
torpor
Always in usual spaces,
& visible only to those
whose hearts are attuned
to their certain type of sadness
Or if not sadness,
then a deep,
caustic awareness
of how alone they really are
We must pay attention
to the deep surprise
that registers on their faces,
as lazy shock & pale horror
Challenge yourselves
to reach out, to risk,
the disdain born of neglect ...
for those weary souls
who sit among us in silent
torpor
Always in usual spaces,
& visible only to those
whose hearts are attuned
to their certain type of sadness
Or if not sadness,
then a deep,
caustic awareness
of how alone they really are
We must pay attention
to the deep surprise
that registers on their faces,
as lazy shock & pale horror
Challenge yourselves
to reach out, to risk,
the disdain born of neglect ...
106 reads
10 Comments
MORS LUCIFER
I look in time to see,
One black wing fold
And bend,
Useless in flight.
The other in instinct,
Waves in vain
As it too fails,
To keep me aloft.
The fine sea spray,
So far below
Looked like ivory
Veins under blue-green skin.
Now widens and roars,
As it waits to swallow me,
Not in warm embraces,
But as liquid stone,
Not allowing for
My Vanity in flight.
Space seems so vapid,
Sound disappears,
Cracking pain waits,
Yet I know no panic,
As mysteries no longer ...
One black wing fold
And bend,
Useless in flight.
The other in instinct,
Waves in vain
As it too fails,
To keep me aloft.
The fine sea spray,
So far below
Looked like ivory
Veins under blue-green skin.
Now widens and roars,
As it waits to swallow me,
Not in warm embraces,
But as liquid stone,
Not allowing for
My Vanity in flight.
Space seems so vapid,
Sound disappears,
Cracking pain waits,
Yet I know no panic,
As mysteries no longer ...
111 reads
5 Comments
The Modern Sensual
I kiss your neck,
& taste bitter ash,
I inhale your scent,
& burned leaves
bless-sting my nose.
I touch your leg,
& heat nourishes me,
I slowly open my eyes,
& your naked form
lifts my blood.
My mouth opens,
& hymns of praise
waft & drip, like
heavy syrup.
We wind ourselves
into each other,
gasping, clawing.
Mashing our beings
together in a trance.
Our passion breaks,
like a wave
against the cliffs,
we crash,
back down
to this life.
We...
& taste bitter ash,
I inhale your scent,
& burned leaves
bless-sting my nose.
I touch your leg,
& heat nourishes me,
I slowly open my eyes,
& your naked form
lifts my blood.
My mouth opens,
& hymns of praise
waft & drip, like
heavy syrup.
We wind ourselves
into each other,
gasping, clawing.
Mashing our beings
together in a trance.
Our passion breaks,
like a wave
against the cliffs,
we crash,
back down
to this life.
We...
126 reads
6 Comments
The Bones Will Roll
Serpents come to me
as I lay on the ground,
their tongues lick my fingertips.
They taste the guilt
that drips from them,
and recoil into their own bodies in defense.
This end was foretold,
but a surprise nonetheless,
death is always a shocker,
even though we all close with it,
in our epilogues, our finales.
My dead ears are still able,
to tune into Nature's symphony,
the insect's drone reels,
searing into a still brain.
Unblinking eye drains the
last of its tears into the dirt.
No soul flies heralded,...
as I lay on the ground,
their tongues lick my fingertips.
They taste the guilt
that drips from them,
and recoil into their own bodies in defense.
This end was foretold,
but a surprise nonetheless,
death is always a shocker,
even though we all close with it,
in our epilogues, our finales.
My dead ears are still able,
to tune into Nature's symphony,
the insect's drone reels,
searing into a still brain.
Unblinking eye drains the
last of its tears into the dirt.
No soul flies heralded,...
185 reads
12 Comments
The Dream is Half Empty
across brilliant horizons,
float our burning hopes
towards coasts of golden promise,
among treacherous rocky doubt.
as the lingering dreamers strive,
to transcend glib lives of decline,
in severe postures of indignance,
heaping hosannas unto alibis.
balking at literal endeavor,
by sheltering in the allegory,
euphemistically declaring intent,
without lifting a finger in labor.
yet still do they quiver,
in jubilant fits of expectation,
childlike in yule tide paralysis,
only to waken blind in coal-dust clouds.
...
float our burning hopes
towards coasts of golden promise,
among treacherous rocky doubt.
as the lingering dreamers strive,
to transcend glib lives of decline,
in severe postures of indignance,
heaping hosannas unto alibis.
balking at literal endeavor,
by sheltering in the allegory,
euphemistically declaring intent,
without lifting a finger in labor.
yet still do they quiver,
in jubilant fits of expectation,
childlike in yule tide paralysis,
only to waken blind in coal-dust clouds.
...
124 reads
0 Comments
Disciples Of A Lead-Based Faith
We are locked in now.
Deep in the belly of the beast,
To stew and toil.
Until we return,
As haunted disciples
Of a lead-based Faith,
Witnesses to miracles,
Seen with hollow pointed eyes,
Steeped in the vanity,
Of our ruined & crumbling egos.
We go to the dark corners
To breathe in air
Defiled by the dust of our dead.
We harbor dark poisons
Of lead-based faith
In ideals long squandered.
Upon waves of blood we feed,
Reaped from our young for full vigor.
We sigh at pictures ...
Deep in the belly of the beast,
To stew and toil.
Until we return,
As haunted disciples
Of a lead-based Faith,
Witnesses to miracles,
Seen with hollow pointed eyes,
Steeped in the vanity,
Of our ruined & crumbling egos.
We go to the dark corners
To breathe in air
Defiled by the dust of our dead.
We harbor dark poisons
Of lead-based faith
In ideals long squandered.
Upon waves of blood we feed,
Reaped from our young for full vigor.
We sigh at pictures ...
106 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Dresdamanx