andrew-t-hannahWhisper

Canadian
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Please read this... -_-I think it's sad where the poetry community has been going. / It seems as though deep, dark poetry isn't considered "good" anymore. / I wrote a "poem" called #Hashtag as an example of how braindead some people are becoming. As I write this, it has 44 views while the other 25 poems i've written in the past 2 weeks have max 23-ish views. I think this is completely ridiculous because poetry for me was once a place to escape the modern day stupidity and revel in the intelligence of literature. Now all I see are poems about computers and "some chick left me so I banged my side-chick". I cannot even begin to describe how much it bothers me that my poem "#Hashtag" has more views than my poem "From the Benevolent Ashes, We Rise!". It's absolutely appauling. I don't even know how to end this rant so it's going to seem abrupt but I can't continue right now or else I'll end up even angrier at poetry.
12
Apr 14, 2014
Demiurges of Reality (Original Writing)Praeludium in via ... / Vidi heri mane quando ridebam coloribus egregiis, / Eradere auro , trans tabula caeli , tentorium ...
329
Apr 9, 2014
#HashtagTwitter tingz keep me awake / while Tumblr wont give me a break. / Facebook knows what going on
19
Apr 2, 2014
The Voices of DarknessPart I – Fire and Crucifixion / You could not see the beauty within me, foolish maid, / So jealous were you of the outer beauty you beheld…
91
Apr 1, 2014
Arch-angelWith every ripped, bloody wing / We sin and curse the lords / And for the consequence
164
Mar 31, 2014
Unto the Maw of Oblivion, I dare to stand!Unto the maw of Oblivion, I dare to stand! / All alone without the company of man; / So as my madness drives me deeper within,
118
Mar 31, 2014
The Beginning or the End?Time is nothing new, knowing knots will never be undone / Evil crawls in the minds of man, manifesting itself to be beautiful / Accepting and acknowledging all aristocrats who abuse their power
95
Mar 31, 2014
The PromiselandHe had just passed a marker on 285, / miles away from that old city life. / Wondering how he could feel so alive,
94
Mar 31, 2014
Incandescent CorruptionThe memory seems more like a never ending dream. Actually, it is a nightmare replaying constantly in my head. I close my eyes and that’s all I can see. Even after all these years. It’s like someone got a red-hot brander and seared the inside of my brain with it. I tried to drown the memories out, but they always have a way of crawling back up to the surface. Its something I have to deal with for the rest of my life. / I can’t help but look into the cold, blank eyes. The last time I saw them, they were a bright, beautiful, blue and gleaming with potential. But that dramatically changed. Now all that’s left is a hollow, dead stare from a stranger I use to know. I feel goose bumps rise all over my body. My hand rests on her cold, stiff shoulder. How long has she been here? Her porcelain skin was already beginning to have a bluish tint creep across it. I know it’s too late, but I try to shake her and call her name hoping for a miracle. The pools of scarlet collecting around her head quiet that hope and desperation. It’s a silent reminder that’s there’s no way to fix this, that the deed is done. It something I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life. / Tears stream down my cheeks; I can’t seem to make myself move from that spot to get help. It felt like I was frozen in time looking at the empty shell of a fallen friend. She picked the time that she was left all alone to succumb to her poisonous thoughts. Her mother was away on business, her brother was at his shift for work and she and I weren’t speaking at the time. She probably truly felt alone. Still, I should have known this was going to happen. We got into a huge fight a few days before all of this happened. She was upset with me because I brought up how her self-destructive behavior will impact her greatly in the future and how she should talk to a professional for help in order to fix her deep seeded emotional trauma. Unfortunately, she took this as a sign of me abandoning her in her time of need. That was on a Thursday. She didn’t speak to me for two days, I received word from other people that she was abusing substances and self-harming yet again. That’s when I was fed up with this petty argument and went to go clear things up with her and try to help. I’ll never forget the day I walked to her house that Sunday afternoon. When I got there, the door was unlocked so I knew she was home. I called for her, but didn’t get an answer. A pang of worry creped in the pit of my stomach. I raced up the stairs to her room and saw her motionless body at her desk…
62
Mar 31, 2014
A Chance Never Givenlay on the / **shadow** / **black**
118
Mar 31, 2014
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