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Literature Text
you're hypnotic;
a trace of illusions
that rackets my brain
and leaves my skull
thumping-
thumping
'til cracks form like dry sea foam
and the sound of god particles
ring in my ears...
But why should heaven be medicine?
Why should death be healed,
Why should my soul have wingtips
that soar towards the burning stars?
That was the fate of Icarus-
The fate of fallen angels,
The fate of the innocent
and the ambition of the cold-blooded-
It cannot be the fate of a ghost
lost in the fingertips
of a schizophrenic saint
splintered in the heart,
confused of the many-resplendent things
he has vowed to keep sacred.
But I was a non-believer
and the lament of an atheist
was never meant for a dreamer
to swallow whole,
bare hands cupped wrist-deep
to the earth and the beating
of radial veins asking
for forgiveness...
I am lost beneath the cremated earth
and not a single ghost
has beckoned to whisper
underneath the withered floor boards
of the abandoned church.
a trace of illusions
that rackets my brain
and leaves my skull
thumping-
thumping
'til cracks form like dry sea foam
and the sound of god particles
ring in my ears...
But why should heaven be medicine?
Why should death be healed,
Why should my soul have wingtips
that soar towards the burning stars?
That was the fate of Icarus-
The fate of fallen angels,
The fate of the innocent
and the ambition of the cold-blooded-
It cannot be the fate of a ghost
lost in the fingertips
of a schizophrenic saint
splintered in the heart,
confused of the many-resplendent things
he has vowed to keep sacred.
But I was a non-believer
and the lament of an atheist
was never meant for a dreamer
to swallow whole,
bare hands cupped wrist-deep
to the earth and the beating
of radial veins asking
for forgiveness...
I am lost beneath the cremated earth
and not a single ghost
has beckoned to whisper
underneath the withered floor boards
of the abandoned church.
Literature
Hate
I hate
I hate well
I hate feverishly
I am the churning acid in your stomach
I am the blood pounding in your head
I am the white-knuckled fist clenching to strike
I am the red haze dimming your eyes
and clouding your mind
I am the rage that lashes out at the weak
the small and defenseless
justified by tears and fueled by alcohol
I hate passionately
I am the shaking in your hands
and grinding teeth
nails digging into your palms
I am everything you hate
boiling to the surface in a froth of
bile
blood
and excrement
I am the indiscriminate spray of bullets
at the school
church
nightclub
I am the madman raving on the news
heaping blame
Literature
imsorryican'tstoptellingyouhowmuchiloveyou
i can keep telling you i love you every day
but every time i do, i feel like i'm simultaneously losing
pieces of my heart.
you brush it off
like i don't mean anything to you.
like i never meant anything to you.
i wonder if i'll ever mean something to you again.
you said you knew what you wanted but
i know whatever it is no longer includes me.
and i know myself; i'm weak when it comes to you so
even though i've been thinking lately about how i
wont be foolish enough to fall back
in love with you
not even all that deep down, i'm sure
that i will.
but i can't keep telling you i love you every day.
because every time i do, i'm losing mor
Literature
winter
i didn't think that the artificial fireplace logs
would turn out to be
some kind of cruel metaphor
but here i am,
trying to ingest antifreeze to
deal with the shivers you i
send across
raw clinging collarbones , d
own
clanking vertebrae screaming at me to
let go or i'll melt into your
chest like the snowflake that lost its 6th
arm
and you
know that's not how it works and
i do too.
i turn around
and realize that
you
' re not beside
me, anymore
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Yey, one-shot poetry! XD And it has NOTHING to do with me.
Dedicated to my atheist friend who is now in college, and he's a heck of a philospher. The first stanza got stuck in my head and it somewhat reminded me of him and his debate with my religious friend (and they're both best of friends despite that). Kuya Nico, I know you have no dA account, but you might like what I made!
Issues with the piece:
Is it abrupt? Does the third stanza jump so suddenly to a different theme?
Is it too long? If it is, are there any ways to trim it all down?
Do the last parts seem like they belong to a different poem?
Strong imagery so far?
Any weak points?
Happy Reading!
EDIT (changed the last part- finally! this lazy bum really needs work)
Featured in:
ITU Feature 14 + V-Challenge Winner - March 27, 2013
Dedicated to my atheist friend who is now in college, and he's a heck of a philospher. The first stanza got stuck in my head and it somewhat reminded me of him and his debate with my religious friend (and they're both best of friends despite that). Kuya Nico, I know you have no dA account, but you might like what I made!
Issues with the piece:
Is it abrupt? Does the third stanza jump so suddenly to a different theme? Is it too long? If it is, are there any ways to trim it all down? Do the last parts seem like they belong to a different poem? Strong imagery so far? Any weak points?Happy Reading!
EDIT (changed the last part- finally! this lazy bum really needs work)
Featured in:
ITU Feature 14 + V-Challenge Winner - March 27, 2013 © 2013 - 2024 brokengod--veins
Comments38
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I really enjoyed this, but one thing I didn't like was that use of semi-random capitals in there. That final stanza, though, is quite breathtaking and I think you've outdone yourself with it.
I am lost beneath the cremated earth
and not a single ghost
has beckoned to whisper
underneath the withered floor boards
of the abandoned church.
*happy sighs*
I am lost beneath the cremated earth
and not a single ghost
has beckoned to whisper
underneath the withered floor boards
of the abandoned church.
*happy sighs*