Submissions by mjs211 (MikeTheEngineer)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Oh, Mike the Engineer can build your brand-new hip, or synth your pills. But engineers left unfulfilled poor Mike's creative writing skills.
On grasshoppers and ants
They told him he was lazy,
that he'd never amount to anything.
He replied, I amount to happy
and damned if I ain't rich in it.
But you never push for better (said They)
and you accomplish nothing at all!
He responded, I accomplish relaxed
and that's the highest art to master.
I give up! said an exasperated They,
I'm not worrying over what I can't change.
And he said,
Now you're getting it.
They asked him, Where will you be
in twenty years? Still relaxing and happy?
Probably, he replied, and babydoll
it's beautiful.
that he'd never amount to anything.
He replied, I amount to happy
and damned if I ain't rich in it.
But you never push for better (said They)
and you accomplish nothing at all!
He responded, I accomplish relaxed
and that's the highest art to master.
I give up! said an exasperated They,
I'm not worrying over what I can't change.
And he said,
Now you're getting it.
They asked him, Where will you be
in twenty years? Still relaxing and happy?
Probably, he replied, and babydoll
it's beautiful.
223 reads
0 Comments
Venus and Mars
She thinks he's gazing
deep into her eyes
while he's really just
staring at her tits
It's the start of something
beautiful, she believes
as he thinks those words
with a different meaning
** I'm not sure about this one, from the title to the punctuation style to whether this piece should even bother existing. Thoughts? **
deep into her eyes
while he's really just
staring at her tits
It's the start of something
beautiful, she believes
as he thinks those words
with a different meaning
** I'm not sure about this one, from the title to the punctuation style to whether this piece should even bother existing. Thoughts? **
261 reads
6 Comments
Tinfoil Beauty
This hectic Hallmark holiday
is meant for those haughty princesses
raised on plastic Disney dreams,
suckled with red tinfoil hearts
and educated in high-end chocolatiers,
harassing even the most even-keeled men
into the role of stupid, vapid prick
because "it's just what you do."
Having survived it once,
chivalrously sautéing fish and tomatoes
and overpaying egregiously for blood-red flora
apparently intended for the simple joy
of handing over hard-earned cash,
I vowed to be single
every February fourteenth
'til...
is meant for those haughty princesses
raised on plastic Disney dreams,
suckled with red tinfoil hearts
and educated in high-end chocolatiers,
harassing even the most even-keeled men
into the role of stupid, vapid prick
because "it's just what you do."
Having survived it once,
chivalrously sautéing fish and tomatoes
and overpaying egregiously for blood-red flora
apparently intended for the simple joy
of handing over hard-earned cash,
I vowed to be single
every February fourteenth
'til...
234 reads
11 Comments
Summer Heat (from the Three word inspiration thread*)
Toiling through my summer job
with the roofers,
stuck in the warehouse
with the burnt-out shop man
and the burning-out drivers,
I can't help but feel
this job grating my palate.
I'm not ungrateful for it, no--
(jobs are tough to come by
and spending-money tougher)
but I'm not meant for it either.
Their roofs are my experiments,
their shingles my cell trays.
I craft with the palette
of cellular processes
and bend them to my will.
And I'll paint a new tomorrow
where people will have the luxury
of calling...
with the roofers,
stuck in the warehouse
with the burnt-out shop man
and the burning-out drivers,
I can't help but feel
this job grating my palate.
I'm not ungrateful for it, no--
(jobs are tough to come by
and spending-money tougher)
but I'm not meant for it either.
Their roofs are my experiments,
their shingles my cell trays.
I craft with the palette
of cellular processes
and bend them to my will.
And I'll paint a new tomorrow
where people will have the luxury
of calling...
178 reads
1 Comment
For (and because of) Danielle
I am not perfect,
if tonight speaks truth.
I saw them leave the bar,
four of those cocky bastards.
Pulling their leather jackets tight,
cursing loudly at the cold.
I followed them a block away
watching as they peeled off one by one
'til there was only him left...
The man who ruined my life,
the coward that never knew my face—
well he'll find it tonight
engrained in his memory,
and if I'm lucky
he'll find my knuckles
traced on his face.
I rushed up an alley to cut him off.
Adrenaline washing my elated...
if tonight speaks truth.
I saw them leave the bar,
four of those cocky bastards.
Pulling their leather jackets tight,
cursing loudly at the cold.
I followed them a block away
watching as they peeled off one by one
'til there was only him left...
The man who ruined my life,
the coward that never knew my face—
well he'll find it tonight
engrained in his memory,
and if I'm lucky
he'll find my knuckles
traced on his face.
I rushed up an alley to cut him off.
Adrenaline washing my elated...
265 reads
8 Comments
The motive
The phrase "going postal"
sprung up years ago when
postal workers, unhinged
by the endlessness of the
mail, brought in guns and
blew away their bosses.
The doctors said it was
brought on by the eternal
stream of mail, that there was
no job-well-done satisfaction,
that the letters just kept on
like Chinese water torture.
After digging out my car
for the third time this week,
and having nowhere to put
the newest snow, with more
on the way, I can at least start
to understand the motive.
sprung up years ago when
postal workers, unhinged
by the endlessness of the
mail, brought in guns and
blew away their bosses.
The doctors said it was
brought on by the eternal
stream of mail, that there was
no job-well-done satisfaction,
that the letters just kept on
like Chinese water torture.
After digging out my car
for the third time this week,
and having nowhere to put
the newest snow, with more
on the way, I can at least start
to understand the motive.
150 reads
2 Comments
Wandering Quixotic
Having reached that point
in a young poet's career
where I no longer wrote of torn hearts,
moved past cheap cutter portraits
and pounded the lid
back on that abused black paint,
I discovered the existential crisis:
If I am to better myself,
What, then should I write?
My first thoughts
were rather slow;
mistaking spinning wheels
for distance, I decided
I should write of my own life.
But the more I lived my life,
the less I desired it chronicled.
Besides that it's very boring
(unless you care for Navier-Stokes),...
in a young poet's career
where I no longer wrote of torn hearts,
moved past cheap cutter portraits
and pounded the lid
back on that abused black paint,
I discovered the existential crisis:
If I am to better myself,
What, then should I write?
My first thoughts
were rather slow;
mistaking spinning wheels
for distance, I decided
I should write of my own life.
But the more I lived my life,
the less I desired it chronicled.
Besides that it's very boring
(unless you care for Navier-Stokes),...
266 reads
4 Comments
blind eyes take lives
lost and forgotten
she begged us to seek her...
we marched past with heads down.
wracked and neglected
she willed the world to care...
it maintained its self-gravitating tilt.
fading and desperate
she searched for a rekindling...
they hoarded their passion.
hanging and breathless
she succumbed to it all...
no one even cut her down
she begged us to seek her...
we marched past with heads down.
wracked and neglected
she willed the world to care...
it maintained its self-gravitating tilt.
fading and desperate
she searched for a rekindling...
they hoarded their passion.
hanging and breathless
she succumbed to it all...
no one even cut her down
237 reads
4 Comments
There's Grace in All God's Creations
He stands as if uncertain, that ornate ballerina
awkwardly clad in flak jacket and tights.
Lifts one arm to hail the other end
of what now passes for his world.
The zebra demigods
(who, though omnipotent on this plane,
still abide by higher laws)
signal their assent.
The flak-jacketed ballerina lowers his hand
and looks about his comrades.
They ready to charge
though no battle cry is issued;
the fickle many-headed beast fringing his world
takes care of that.
Whipped to a blood frenzy, its heads cry out
sixty...
awkwardly clad in flak jacket and tights.
Lifts one arm to hail the other end
of what now passes for his world.
The zebra demigods
(who, though omnipotent on this plane,
still abide by higher laws)
signal their assent.
The flak-jacketed ballerina lowers his hand
and looks about his comrades.
They ready to charge
though no battle cry is issued;
the fickle many-headed beast fringing his world
takes care of that.
Whipped to a blood frenzy, its heads cry out
sixty...
231 reads
4 Comments
True Art Evokes Emotion
The wreck came to rest in an art museum.
Having signed its John Hancock in rubber
on the asphalt of the interstate,
it kissed two sedans and a sport-ute goodbye
and cut the guardrail like a grand-opening ribbon—
down the ravine, making good use of all six sides
and came to rest with a climactic crunch
on the lawn of the Grounds for Sculpture.
And the patrons crowded round
(as people are wont to do)
until the police gave the wreck its due privacy;
nobody understood why,
since the one who should be embarrassed
was in no state...
Having signed its John Hancock in rubber
on the asphalt of the interstate,
it kissed two sedans and a sport-ute goodbye
and cut the guardrail like a grand-opening ribbon—
down the ravine, making good use of all six sides
and came to rest with a climactic crunch
on the lawn of the Grounds for Sculpture.
And the patrons crowded round
(as people are wont to do)
until the police gave the wreck its due privacy;
nobody understood why,
since the one who should be embarrassed
was in no state...
630 reads
4 Comments
Seduction
She's ringed by barbed wire electric
yet invites you to scale her walls.
And she'll pick you off every time
with a sniper shot straight to the gut—
She could kill you from there, yes,
but she'd rather watch you writhe.
And all her barbed wire friends
(if hollow bombshells can be friends)
get a laugh, for the price
of the one look it took to invite you to try.
And she's cold and hard as ice
but all she shows is warm and soft
so you don't see it coming
'til you're lying face-up writhing
at the base of her barbed wire electric.
yet invites you to scale her walls.
And she'll pick you off every time
with a sniper shot straight to the gut—
She could kill you from there, yes,
but she'd rather watch you writhe.
And all her barbed wire friends
(if hollow bombshells can be friends)
get a laugh, for the price
of the one look it took to invite you to try.
And she's cold and hard as ice
but all she shows is warm and soft
so you don't see it coming
'til you're lying face-up writhing
at the base of her barbed wire electric.
180 reads
0 Comments
Transparent Eyeball
Leaning against a telephone pole at 1am,
watching the young night grow older:
The moon's out and the air's fair,
and I'm outside taking it all in.
It's a beautiful time of night.
Nobody about,
but some poor soul in his cracked-out body
being pulled up the street by that invisible rope—
don't lie to yourself, it's as real as you and I!—
and a drunk stumbling back from the bar,
mumbling to himself (something terribly important, to be sure).
In this place where men wear
the years they've "done" on their...
watching the young night grow older:
The moon's out and the air's fair,
and I'm outside taking it all in.
It's a beautiful time of night.
Nobody about,
but some poor soul in his cracked-out body
being pulled up the street by that invisible rope—
don't lie to yourself, it's as real as you and I!—
and a drunk stumbling back from the bar,
mumbling to himself (something terribly important, to be sure).
In this place where men wear
the years they've "done" on their...
283 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by mjs211 (MikeTheEngineer)