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Literature Text
Success has the stench
of pure alcohol,
mint-scented ballrooms,
and storage closets
filled with skeletons-
fragments of spirits
swept into dustbins;
praises and merits
for repeated sins.
Where is the virtue
when in the dark
I never glow?
Why would I want to
gain the world
but lose my soul?
Victory's a bag
of addictive drugs,
mind-boggling pleasures,
and two instruments
of death and decay-
hollow sacraments
for my soul to pay;
cloth-like green parchments
with few words to say.
If all my success
leads to excess
hypocrisy
and
complacency...
I'd rather stay
an underdog
eternally.
Literature
Just a Dream. Please.
I feel...
that this is a dream.
None of it's real.
Nothing's what it seems.
But sometimes I wake
with a gasp and a start.
Like being thrown in a lake,
the cold waking my heart.
And I look up in fear
at what I've done.
It's bringing me to tear,
this monster I've become.
The things I've said,
the people I've hurt.
I wish I were dead,
Six feet in the dirt.
This can't be real.
I won't let it be.
I don't want to feel.
I don't want to be me.
So I slip back into dreams,
where everything's okay.
Nothing's as it seems,
but I get through the day.
Literature
brain squeals
I beat depressions in the earth
for my brain squeals and waves
that burst in my wet ears
until something makes me drown.
I will. (again) V.
Virginia,
put rocks in pockets
and walk right in --
I'll drink your overcoat
until your throat weeps
and your soaked hair
weighs you down.
I promise.
with love,
Ouse.
P.S.
brain squeals are from cold sweats
sleep well.
Literature
The hidden grave and underdogs vendetta
Phosphorus regrets laying deep within
The juncture of my hips
My glass lips turned blue as the clock struck midnight
And out from the car window I saw monsters
They sang lullabies to the bruised sky
I watched Jack and Jim jump over the moon
They never came back
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NaPoWriMo is over, but will that stop me? Nope. I march to the beat of my own drum.
A short (comparatively) poem about how money, power, and fame corrupts. I'd rather pour my energy primarily into doing what is right, not what makes me popular.
The eighth poem in the conclusive "Limitless" collection.
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A short (comparatively) poem about how money, power, and fame corrupts. I'd rather pour my energy primarily into doing what is right, not what makes me popular.
The eighth poem in the conclusive "Limitless" collection.
Previous:
CycloneI find myself
writing this
over and
over again...
Here lies
the tension-
borders between
ourselves have grown
Here lies
redemption-
crises we can't
survive alone
A storm
is coming-
pushing against
our comfort zone
Living
and dying-
vicious cycle
like a cyclone
And it happens
every day
over and
over again...
Here lies
emotion-
defined by our
aggressive tone
Here lies
contention-
the seeds of doubt
that we have sown
A storm
is brewing-
swirling in
our blood and bone
Gaining
and losing-
vicious cycle
like a cyclone
Board your windows,
blockade your doors-
a deadly force,
the source
of wars,
will rattle us
to our cores
It's a vicious
cycle
over and
over again...
Honestly,
it's getting
far too bland...
These ten words
reveal
where I stand-
Every generation
has the chance to change
this tormented land.
Next:
Faded MemoriesDilapidated homes
where orphans stitched together
quilts of interlocking squares-
presents for future mothers;
blankets for future brothers
Bright and passionate young
fingers slaved for higher goals
and ambitions beyond reach-
covering internal holes;
desperate to bare their souls
And on the wall of awards
for tireless efforts and
for harmonious accords,
one boy wrote eleven words-
"The flames of
youthful passion
should not go
out of fashion."
One by one these children were
adopted by some dirty
factories abusing skill-
following the policy
of profit and apathy
Comfort could only be found
in their hopelessly faded
memories of innocence-
thoughts seemingly outdated;
old wisdom to be doubted
Yet on his wall of awards
for tireless efforts and
for harmonious accords
one man wrote eleven words-
"The flames of
youthful passion
should not go
out of fashion."
© 2013 - 2024 goldshroom
Comments14
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Overall
Vision Originality Technique ImpactI see this more of a person's viewpoint rather then it just being a simple poem. Which is good with all literature that you forget you're reading a poem and at one point get lost in this person's mind you're peaking into. I love how in detail it goes into the feeling and darkness that fame can provide a person.
That's why I love this so much because not only is it writing prowess but it's also true that fame can destroy your mindset which, obviously the person expressed in the poem would like to stay away from. This piece, no this art, captures raw emotion while displaying just what you as a writer can do and displays both for the world to see.
If only it were a bit longer. Keep up the good work!