Last Night found the ladder, / Redeamed / She climbed up to scrutinise reflection / Hers being defined / in city-lights and stars: / A negatio…
Not really sure what this poem means but I always liked its obscurity
Stars above and stars around, / a speck of dust floats to the ground. Unnoticed, floating aimlessly, / and no-one knows that speck is me…
Choke upon your filthy soul.
Cut these strings that bind our obscenities.
This one…was written not too long ago. I was struggling in my relationship with my ex of whom I’ve just broken up with recently. It’s hard… to love someone so much… and know that isn’t enough.
guilty as charged
greetings from the womb of ignorance
Dialing for my doctor or maybe my local priest / Don’t interrupt the banquet, cast away that silver beast
I wrote this short poem whilst sat in a cafe’. I was listening to Nick Cave at the time. I came up with the idea of someone trying to defrost a knife in a hurry…I could vision the scenario, so I wrote it down. I’d like to animate this some day.
Tourist cameras click at will / Ignorant of north life still
I walked through / concrete forests, / steel vegetation / growing on all sides / obscuring / all but the / dense smoke of / factories.
I spent a summer in the 60s working with heroin addicts in New York. I captured this moment in verse after I got over the shock. It was my first day there.
Energy equals / Mass multiplied by the speed / of light (which is squared)
You were the weak one. / The one with the unquenchable appetite. / Magnificent, trapped within your own beauty, / A desolate sculpture carve…
I wrote this poem about two years ago, as a launching pad for my short story of the same name. It’s quite complex, even my creative writing tutor at University took his time to try and unravel it. I hope you have fun with it, all will be revealed in my story to come. I was torn as to whether or not to share this as its intensely personal but I’m really interesed to hear other people’s feedback, so please let me know what you think. I know that it is far from perfect, but at least it takes me on a journey. Get creative guys, / H.D. x
Behind, / left to be consumed by dark corners of the mind…
It snowed in my room on Tuesday. It was the kind of snow that never melted. Its touch was warm; the complete opposite to what snow normal…
Oh joyful stupidity; how I love you so… It was empty, / broken, / forgotten, / but lustfull. Tears, sweat with a hint of paranoia….
“I KNEW YOU ONCE / / / / ^ You’re a strange shade of blue, / Or maybe it’s violet. / A deformed painting, / Of watercolour and cha…
Created by a friend as a gift for me. He wishes to be kept hidden by name so we shall name him Muffim. Muffims ‘poetry’ was the reason I grew an interest in most written works that make no sense at all; or at least very little. It probably explains why a lot of things I write tend to be just as random.
...searching symbolic senses , pulsating glow of other spheres,expanding…
abstract writing
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