Submissions by lightbaron
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
i allow myself this space
give me the gloom.
give me the grey,
give me the heavy
self consumed
ego, and emotion
of a masterpiece,
before its made.
and give me a monsoon,
so i can paint a sunny day
that ill never step
outside,
to.
and allow me the weight of the world,
so i can confiscate its shadows.
pleased to see me myself,
a delicate pageantry,
of freshly trimmed melancholy,
firmed just...
give me the grey,
give me the heavy
self consumed
ego, and emotion
of a masterpiece,
before its made.
and give me a monsoon,
so i can paint a sunny day
that ill never step
outside,
to.
and allow me the weight of the world,
so i can confiscate its shadows.
pleased to see me myself,
a delicate pageantry,
of freshly trimmed melancholy,
firmed just...
145 reads
2 Comments
here
andwhenidofinallywritemyselfaway
mydear,
dontpretendthatididntbludgeon
youreardrumswiththepiecemeal
andposturing
ofaprepubescentpoet.
wheniwhittledaway
thewaste,
fromthewellfedwording
andnestledthemjustso-
andcomfyunderyourhungry
selfesteem
itseemedtosatisfy
acertainsenseofromance
yousaidyouneeded
Asorry
asmightyasicanmuster,
isfastenedtothisconfession
thatmypassionstillsimmers-
crackingtheunderstanding
ofthe,"whatishouldbedoing"
whenistackthedishes, ...
mydear,
dontpretendthatididntbludgeon
youreardrumswiththepiecemeal
andposturing
ofaprepubescentpoet.
wheniwhittledaway
thewaste,
fromthewellfedwording
andnestledthemjustso-
andcomfyunderyourhungry
selfesteem
itseemedtosatisfy
acertainsenseofromance
yousaidyouneeded
Asorry
asmightyasicanmuster,
isfastenedtothisconfession
thatmypassionstillsimmers-
crackingtheunderstanding
ofthe,"whatishouldbedoing"
whenistackthedishes, ...
130 reads
0 Comments
missed whistle
Chasing the elusive last syllable
of your name
through the silent streets
I plead with the wind
to die down
just for a moment
allow me
one refraction
a sustained vibration
for even a second
of a pleasing sound
something to cut through
these mad shrieks
crying aloud
in long seditious wails
that keep at bay
any attempt at peace
it's not fair
to ask why you lead me here
I know that I seek shadows
reach for the remaining ripples
and wonder if its sadistic ...
of your name
through the silent streets
I plead with the wind
to die down
just for a moment
allow me
one refraction
a sustained vibration
for even a second
of a pleasing sound
something to cut through
these mad shrieks
crying aloud
in long seditious wails
that keep at bay
any attempt at peace
it's not fair
to ask why you lead me here
I know that I seek shadows
reach for the remaining ripples
and wonder if its sadistic ...
126 reads
3 Comments
anything worth keeping ,is worth keeping secret
its when
all of the eyes of the close circle are closed,
and when
the graceful tones are unfolded
unto the ascended hallways of the never answered but always heard, that
the dancing flicker finds its footing
and flirts
just outside the firmly clamped lids of the faithful.
its the instant,
that the space enchanted by the hidden,
levitates to an outside,
an other than its origin, that
the open ended arousal of ability, stakes its claim
fertile on a foundation of secrecy.
its called on by the echo of the forgotten intent.
once...
all of the eyes of the close circle are closed,
and when
the graceful tones are unfolded
unto the ascended hallways of the never answered but always heard, that
the dancing flicker finds its footing
and flirts
just outside the firmly clamped lids of the faithful.
its the instant,
that the space enchanted by the hidden,
levitates to an outside,
an other than its origin, that
the open ended arousal of ability, stakes its claim
fertile on a foundation of secrecy.
its called on by the echo of the forgotten intent.
once...
120 reads
0 Comments
bastians dilemma
If i were to start a novel i suppose it would begin like this.
Akin to pick up sticks, i would lay down letters and mold them around a gnostic momentum, that even Sisyphus would believe in, at least while the boulder is edging upward. And presuming that this still holographic helix could house a particular catharsis, than i could build a framework of phrases to momentarily suspend that indefinable electricity, until i could work out the ambiguities.
Truth is i don't see why i need to write a novel. I am way too self absorbed to monumentalize the finite details of...
Akin to pick up sticks, i would lay down letters and mold them around a gnostic momentum, that even Sisyphus would believe in, at least while the boulder is edging upward. And presuming that this still holographic helix could house a particular catharsis, than i could build a framework of phrases to momentarily suspend that indefinable electricity, until i could work out the ambiguities.
Truth is i don't see why i need to write a novel. I am way too self absorbed to monumentalize the finite details of...
110 reads
2 Comments
maybe me
i read the epitaph:
it said,"a jack, with a beer back
a pack of squares, and I'm
all in on the last laugh."
i could tell by the rhyme without reason
that this was in fact a treasonous math.
something about this unnamed weight of familiarity
soothed and scared me.
it haunted yet housed a thousand verses not yet slung.
hung heavy, and stingy like the murderous burden
of a worker bee turned surgeon.
surely this polished turd of a tombstone, left forgotten
beyond the borders of the foraged...
it said,"a jack, with a beer back
a pack of squares, and I'm
all in on the last laugh."
i could tell by the rhyme without reason
that this was in fact a treasonous math.
something about this unnamed weight of familiarity
soothed and scared me.
it haunted yet housed a thousand verses not yet slung.
hung heavy, and stingy like the murderous burden
of a worker bee turned surgeon.
surely this polished turd of a tombstone, left forgotten
beyond the borders of the foraged...
115 reads
2 Comments
of course i should have
I catch glimpses of that long since diminished ritual,
by being whisked away slowly
on the wings of pagan poetry.
The scent that lingers is not that of nostalgia,
but rather that of wine, and of roses, and the dried leaves
hit by rain drops…..but stopping,
before my heart both breaks and mends, I wonder
Should I have asked her for that dance?
I remember being around the fire
watching Salome shed the seventh seal
without blushing,
and then numbing the ambiance
with her utterance,...that she
liked watching us.
I wonder...
by being whisked away slowly
on the wings of pagan poetry.
The scent that lingers is not that of nostalgia,
but rather that of wine, and of roses, and the dried leaves
hit by rain drops…..but stopping,
before my heart both breaks and mends, I wonder
Should I have asked her for that dance?
I remember being around the fire
watching Salome shed the seventh seal
without blushing,
and then numbing the ambiance
with her utterance,...that she
liked watching us.
I wonder...
111 reads
3 Comments
if the thunder dont get you then the lightning will
I'm the redemption of a principle of rebellion,
encompassing the in-between of a fastly and forever expanding everything.
I'm the payment, paid in full, but past due
of all future movement.(although i may have robbed Peter to do it).
I'm the arousal of the single point to form lines, then letters, to incite riots,
the diet of a pristine parasitic existence.
I'm the personification of the pushed panic button,
the utter detachment, and the bumrush to the escape hatch.
A latch key kid of a rolling stone,
I am...
encompassing the in-between of a fastly and forever expanding everything.
I'm the payment, paid in full, but past due
of all future movement.(although i may have robbed Peter to do it).
I'm the arousal of the single point to form lines, then letters, to incite riots,
the diet of a pristine parasitic existence.
I'm the personification of the pushed panic button,
the utter detachment, and the bumrush to the escape hatch.
A latch key kid of a rolling stone,
I am...
179 reads
3 Comments
lillith perhaps?
she told me she loved me because behind my arrogance she saw that i hated myself.
She saw seditiously through my stacks of skimmed through volumes, and deflated my loquacious balloon of self hypnotised glamoury before i could even spell check.
She was more impressed when i didnt have the right thing to say. With angelic reptilian eyes, she owned my madona whore complex completely and decided my role of snail or soldier with each sway of her affection.
She is just a muse i try to tell myself.
I should have known by her maternity, by her nurturing of everything that burns...
She saw seditiously through my stacks of skimmed through volumes, and deflated my loquacious balloon of self hypnotised glamoury before i could even spell check.
She was more impressed when i didnt have the right thing to say. With angelic reptilian eyes, she owned my madona whore complex completely and decided my role of snail or soldier with each sway of her affection.
She is just a muse i try to tell myself.
I should have known by her maternity, by her nurturing of everything that burns...
108 reads
3 Comments
forgot all but the target
I very well may pass two thirds of the way through the great American novel...
or at least through a bottle of its whiskey.
I may pass in a cold forgotten temple of of a misguided monk
by mistaking the dosage or the registry.
My head might very well lie chilled and dormant in an abandoned row house-
but i will still smell the roses i ran too,
yet was too afraid to care for.
I will know somewhere between the lack of tears
and the knowledge of their absence,
That i saw and stood...
or at least through a bottle of its whiskey.
I may pass in a cold forgotten temple of of a misguided monk
by mistaking the dosage or the registry.
My head might very well lie chilled and dormant in an abandoned row house-
but i will still smell the roses i ran too,
yet was too afraid to care for.
I will know somewhere between the lack of tears
and the knowledge of their absence,
That i saw and stood...
148 reads
2 Comments
bread crumbs
I annoyed the white noise of the “in between”,
by steeping my breathing, and by seeming indifferent.
As the elusive energy maneuvered confused,
it missed its exit and rested congested on the axis of a spiraling fraction.
Dark matter is yelling “action” to the reenactors
practicing for the production of the big bang backwards….
And while all this is unfolding,
it appears that the hosts, or so called guardians have abandoned their posts.
Which in turn abandons most of my hopes for any assemblance of a recognizable sanity.
Not truly insane per say, but...
by steeping my breathing, and by seeming indifferent.
As the elusive energy maneuvered confused,
it missed its exit and rested congested on the axis of a spiraling fraction.
Dark matter is yelling “action” to the reenactors
practicing for the production of the big bang backwards….
And while all this is unfolding,
it appears that the hosts, or so called guardians have abandoned their posts.
Which in turn abandons most of my hopes for any assemblance of a recognizable sanity.
Not truly insane per say, but...
90 reads
0 Comments
too abstract to apply
wiley...to the point of providing his own deception and alibi. High off the unbalanced pride and answering the why,with the why nots. Gutter opulence of the should have been prominence stopped short again by the neglectfulness of common sense.
he prolly forgot to roll when he copped, propped up on that mischievous libido...of his myth, his hero, and the battle with his own ego. Fed on the breath of the lotus eater, he been there~done that, but fell asleep on the cusp of actually seeing it through
a problem with honesty, an anomaly even amongst the crew motley with oddities....
he prolly forgot to roll when he copped, propped up on that mischievous libido...of his myth, his hero, and the battle with his own ego. Fed on the breath of the lotus eater, he been there~done that, but fell asleep on the cusp of actually seeing it through
a problem with honesty, an anomaly even amongst the crew motley with oddities....
131 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by lightbaron