Submissions by Many_Roads
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Poet and musician. Double entendre is probably my favorite poetic device.
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th Oct 2013 7:06am
15th Oct 2013 7:06am
Lights, Camera, Action
These fickle threads of fate
Woven by the king
To exist inside a movie
As you're looking out the screen
To walk through all the pictures
And live in every song
As time flies from underneath you
Until your life has gone
Always right in place
But always wrong in time
You have the perfect words
While you speak a different line
You learn another lesson
From each one of your mistakes
But those you love are leaving
And those who stay, you hate
Your mind begins to panic
And the words come tumbling out
As if...
Woven by the king
To exist inside a movie
As you're looking out the screen
To walk through all the pictures
And live in every song
As time flies from underneath you
Until your life has gone
Always right in place
But always wrong in time
You have the perfect words
While you speak a different line
You learn another lesson
From each one of your mistakes
But those you love are leaving
And those who stay, you hate
Your mind begins to panic
And the words come tumbling out
As if...
44 reads
0 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
12th Oct 2013 7:56pm
12th Oct 2013 7:56pm
Ticking
Whenever I feel the distance pressing,
I just write another song;
A placebo to escape the fact
That all I loved is gone
Fighting hard to find the words
To make myself seem real
When all I've done,
but ghosts on glass,
a spinning tape un reel
A poet who could not find the words
To keep what he held dear
Drinking in a pint of sorrows
Another wasted year
What might hold the future now?
Another empty glass
If it's all the same to you
I'd rather spend time in my past.
I just write another song;
A placebo to escape the fact
That all I loved is gone
Fighting hard to find the words
To make myself seem real
When all I've done,
but ghosts on glass,
a spinning tape un reel
A poet who could not find the words
To keep what he held dear
Drinking in a pint of sorrows
Another wasted year
What might hold the future now?
Another empty glass
If it's all the same to you
I'd rather spend time in my past.
75 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
12th Oct 2013 11:55am
12th Oct 2013 11:55am
The Eternal Traveller
Staring into crystal balls I'm haunted by the past
Images and pictures I could never get to last
A casual stroll through painted halls,
The kind you never see
A shattered mirror reflects itself and
I'm looking back at me
Running through the open door,
There's nothing for me in this place
The portraits I had once adored
Replaced with empty space
Floating through the courtyard,
Broken melodies, they sing
Of futile tastes of hope
and the tragedy they bring
I dodge the sour notes that play
To rhythms in my head
And scrabble...
Images and pictures I could never get to last
A casual stroll through painted halls,
The kind you never see
A shattered mirror reflects itself and
I'm looking back at me
Running through the open door,
There's nothing for me in this place
The portraits I had once adored
Replaced with empty space
Floating through the courtyard,
Broken melodies, they sing
Of futile tastes of hope
and the tragedy they bring
I dodge the sour notes that play
To rhythms in my head
And scrabble...
76 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Sep 2013 5:57pm
27th Sep 2013 5:57pm
The Hourglass
I touched your crescent lips,
beneath the waning moon
As the sparks of dying sunset
had brought me back to you.
Laughing, dancing, twirling,
in recession of the forks
Turning hours backward, like
you'd never left the morgue.
Opening the window,
to flow the summer breeze
hiding under covers
from responsibility.
All our days returned,
to count for only one,
the vanishing of stardust,
beneath the rising sun.
beneath the waning moon
As the sparks of dying sunset
had brought me back to you.
Laughing, dancing, twirling,
in recession of the forks
Turning hours backward, like
you'd never left the morgue.
Opening the window,
to flow the summer breeze
hiding under covers
from responsibility.
All our days returned,
to count for only one,
the vanishing of stardust,
beneath the rising sun.
69 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Sep 2013 5:47pm
27th Sep 2013 5:47pm
Upon a Star
We could’ve danced across the stars
You and I, arm in arm.
Painting forests through the night
For us to hide till next twilight.
Fighting battles dusk to dawn
Soldiers, knights, and wooden pawns.
Now though, players, only one.
A lonely king, beneath the sun.
You and I, arm in arm.
Painting forests through the night
For us to hide till next twilight.
Fighting battles dusk to dawn
Soldiers, knights, and wooden pawns.
Now though, players, only one.
A lonely king, beneath the sun.
82 reads
1 Comment
STORY POEM
Published
27th Sep 2013 3:29am
27th Sep 2013 3:29am
The Winding Road
Just beyond Summer’s Dale,
Beyond the caverns where autumn fell,
Over hills where winter grew,
There lies a spring I never knew.
It has been said, by many tongues,
That undertaken, once begun,
Journey’s end led more than one
To come to rest where roses bloom.
To this end, I fear,
My journey’s end
Is drawing near.
The tallest leaves begun to fall
And chill creeps onward up my spine.
But how I long,
How I long,
To see the land where roses bloom.
Beyond the caverns where autumn fell,
Over hills where winter grew,
There lies a spring I never knew.
It has been said, by many tongues,
That undertaken, once begun,
Journey’s end led more than one
To come to rest where roses bloom.
To this end, I fear,
My journey’s end
Is drawing near.
The tallest leaves begun to fall
And chill creeps onward up my spine.
But how I long,
How I long,
To see the land where roses bloom.
117 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Sep 2013 3:22am
27th Sep 2013 3:22am
Living With a Ghost
Months later, you’d think you wouldn’t cross my mind.
I had hoped this would be like the last time,
I would walk away,
I would forget.
But now, reawakened memories toss fitfully
about my head, fading ever slowly.
The day we met, all those years ago, that once surfaced
to enrapture my senses, now seems a waking dream.
Gone are the smells and fluid motion, the sound of your voice,
become a whisper of the breeze upon the heads of spring flowers.
Left only a few Polaroids, inside of a dusty shoe box.
...
I had hoped this would be like the last time,
I would walk away,
I would forget.
But now, reawakened memories toss fitfully
about my head, fading ever slowly.
The day we met, all those years ago, that once surfaced
to enrapture my senses, now seems a waking dream.
Gone are the smells and fluid motion, the sound of your voice,
become a whisper of the breeze upon the heads of spring flowers.
Left only a few Polaroids, inside of a dusty shoe box.
...
74 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Many_Roads
Page: