Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
1.5k · May 2020
A Dead Poet May 2020
Just know when you are lost
   and have nowhere to go;
       when you whisper,
and not even the echo rings.
      you will feel my love;
  feel my skin, feel my touch.
        and hear back;
   I'm here.

1.3k · Sep 2021
A Dead Poet Sep 2021
When did I detach myself from the current of reality,
eternally fused to the nothingness that awaits us?
To become a slave of dreams and machinations.

When did I become another heartbeat,
longing for fantasies of love,
only to find the anguish that comes from human desire.
Knowing that we are powerless to our fascinations.

How many days go by, as we long to be remembered?
For art, for name, for doing, for living
only to reach the same end of obscurity.

They call me a deconstructionist, a detester of life.
But are we not worthlessly tied to this current of life?
We are born with no concepts, no meaning, an echo of what is to come.
& that same echo escapes us in the end.
902 · Nov 2021
A Dead Poet Nov 2021
The saddest thing in this world,
   is constantly being used by him,
       and continuing to play the game, you are going to l̶o̶s̶e̶.
893 · Apr 16
A Dead Poet Apr 16
I look in the mirror,
10 years passed in a breeze,
older, fatter, a wrinkle begins to form.
Youth begins to evade me,
Yet I do not feel sad nor glad,
I am simply living, okay, content with myself.
Is it not odd? Is it not strange? That I no longer care.
855 · Apr 2017
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Watch the sky,
from light to dark,
wait for the sound of rain,
only to know your desire was in vain.

Hold my hand,
Such slender fingers,
two shadows become one,
two souls conjoin,
only to deform.

Our dream is but a crisis,
death closes in,
Screams gasp for air,
your hand turns to a tight fist,
two shadows become one,
as one dies out in the light,
your future is no longer so bright.

A tree grows out of tear,
each branch takes one more strand of hair,
time catches up to everyone
as you sit and watch the sky,
the rain finally came,
you meet death with a smile and a stare,
in heaven two shadows become one forevermore
838 · Oct 2021
A Dead Poet Oct 2021
Like the trains,
  that always run late.
      I was late to love,
      I was late to happiness,
      But I was early to the desolate sea of loneliness that awaits us,
        as the train gets lost in the foggy gray hills of death,
             we all reach. . . you were early to that stop.
                   I am still late waiting for the station, for us to meet.
752 · Apr 2017
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
You slept again with that unknown man,
I sniff your clothes, freezing my cheeks sending a nervous shudder,
Radiant exuberance rushes through every cell, as my mind enters a ****** state of pleasure and Benzedrine.
Fire ignites from within every hole, I cry out for my thoughts are their own, and they are spinning on the floor.

I look to the sky and say "forgive me father" as I enter this state of perfect purgatory.
Breaking down crying naked I shriek with delight.
Burning a cigarette hole in my arm I let the supernatural ecstasy encompass me, as Imagine his fiery eyes.

I want to pleasure him, I want him to rip my limbs.
Sit on my ***, and worship his soul.
Feel the feeling as he lifts your legs to his waist,
as he chokes you out of consciousness, forcing you to imagine my reaction.
The feeling of having him inside you as he fills you with pain, pleasure and joy.

For you think you cheated,
and got away,
but in reality I was always really gay.
:) Funny ending.
733 · Sep 2020
A Dead Poet Sep 2020
He said facing me
  " I love you because you never lie"
but my back
  tells the story
    of many lies
      & many nights
          looking for love
             living a lie
                 despite it all.
701 · Apr 2020
A Dead Poet Apr 2020
I am jealous of the sky,
That sees you every day.

I am jealous of the night,
That sings you to sleep.

I am jealous of the rain,
That feels every inch.

I am jealous of that man,
That you give every smile too.

I am jealous of the love,
That you give to someone else.

I am jealous that I love you so.
Jealous that I can’t love myself.
The way that I love you.
#Rhyme #FreeVerse #SlightStructure
611 · Nov 2021
A Dead Poet Nov 2021
You give yourself to him,
        he takes and he takes,
             until your reflection is a stranger,
                                      a cheap, overly used, stranger.
  -He will n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ love you.
599 · Mar 12
A Dead Poet Mar 12
I don't have much to give,
no tears left,
no money,
no confidence
I can give you me
simple, normal, human
kind. . .
564 · Apr 2017
Crazy Dreamer Rhyme
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
I am a crazy dreamer,
Waited for a love which never came.
As I watched the kids cruising becoming part of the future.
Smiling in love, the thing I always craved.
Everyday my heart grew darker and sore.
I knew I was not born to love,
Never to know truelove.

So, call me crazy,
Tell me I don’t try and I am lazy!
I see no need to dress up or to make myself decadent and tasty.
For dreams are an illusion and I choose not to be hasty.
So, I am a crazy dreamer, no one was born to love me.
I was born to be as fluid as the sea, call me a *****, call me a ***.
For each stone your throw only made me grow!

I never knew tears, only pleasure.
The human touch and its burning flame which ignited fear.
I knew beauty and life, but I never knew love.
I was always happy, until I knew no one was born to love me.
Crazy dreamer, happy even no love in life, I am the crazy dreamer.
A Dead Poet Dec 2021
At sixteen,
  I knew the beauty of life,
      poor, hungry, but full of affection and tenderness,
I never suffered nor cried; until I met you.
you taught me love,
     pain, sadness, tears,
         when you left
             I learned of longing. . .
take me back to sixteen, b̶e̶f̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶f̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶. . .
551 · Apr 2017
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Are your proud of who I am?
Or are you rolling in your grave ashamed.
You were the pillar that held up my walls,
and answered all of my calls.

I never hurt so bad, so when did I ever lower my guard?
My dreams, my aspirations, my goals, my life revolved around you.
Always with a smile, I was a fool that never grew,
because you were the pillar who took all life threw.  

How much abuse did you endure? It must have been stressful, I'm sure.
I'm sorry my lover, I could have done more, if only I knew.
Not a day goes by that I'd rather be asleep than awake, so that I won’t have to relive all my mistakes.

Eventually your walls toppled over, so did my heart.
With the blink of the eye, your ardent flame came to an end.
I’m sorry my lover, if only I knew, I would beg god for more time.

So please tell me that you are not ashamed,
Send me a sign, that I have grown and became great!
That I am no longer the same and have changed!

Tell me my lover, for I am starting to think Ive grown but insane.
Am I everything you wished for?
Or your greatest mistake?

Forgive me lover,
For deep down I know I was the greatest mistake.
536 · Nov 2021
A Dead Poet Nov 2021
Close your eyes
   count to three,
it'll go away,
  it'll be okay,
four, five, six
   open your eyes
      you'll be fine
ten, eleven, twelve
when he died, I lost my sight
   I lost my purpose,
     twenty, thirty, fifty
I will never be okay. . .
       & that's okay. .  .
A Dead Poet Nov 2021
The world is cold with you,
for the flowers that bloomed,
  filled with the hum of the bee,
turn , dreary and cool.

The city is cool with you,
church bells no longer ring,
   our future is bleak,
as the sky comes down to drown the trees.
life is obscure, dark, dim.

Life is cold with you,
  I lose my spark,
     my creativity, my being,
          I lose me.
What little beauty I defended,
is cut , hidden, gone.

The sun escapes my orbit,
   my skies grow darker,
      I toss and I turn,
          pleading for a light; long gone.
begging to return to me; me before you.
472 · Mar 2
A Dead Poet Mar 2
Bruises turn to scars,
but memories never fade,
my soul weeps in silence for this love,
why do I stay?
The ? the outside world always asks, but will never know unless you live it.
469 · Sep 2021
A Dead Poet Sep 2021
This pain I have carried.
   This pain I proclaim,
        This song I sing,
             This song of love,
                  I can not erase
                    when will
                       I finally
461 · Apr 2017
Prayer to Death
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Not a day goes by,
That I miss your touch.
Skies forever Grey,
Death had his way.

Life is full,
of a Judas kiss.
I close my eyes,
and dream of you.

Pray to death,
to be with you.
Years go by,
and here still I lie. . .
*All alone.
454 · Oct 2021
A Dead Poet Oct 2021
Please come, take me away
to where you are
I am trying,
darling trying,
but I love you.
I am f̶a̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g.
A Dead Poet Dec 2021
He does not know how to run,
  run after; love, dreams, aspirations
     when you left, you broke him
         I want to fix him. . . but I can't.
             That's the worst feeling in this earth.
438 · Apr 2017
Killed A Man
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
I think I killed a man today,
For he would not look at me in anyway,
Smiled over him as his soul left his eyes, licked his blood and savored his rejection.
Self-indulgence was my justification, the achievement of vanity was my motive.

Breath left his glorified ruby red lips, hazel green eyes pleaded to the dark abyss which was my soul.
How beautiful a moment I had created, was he proud of such a love filled death?
I loved him, loved him I did.
But he mocked my emotions, laughed at my devotion.
He trampled my passion, lust and infatuation.
Hopefully he burns in damnation.

I killed the man today, and I'll stand over his grave.
I'll watch and laugh at him all day.
My soul won't weep or shed a tear.
417 · Jul 2021
A Dead Poet Jul 2021
Where is the color?
    Red , blues & orange hues.
Where is the sound?
    Singing Birds, overplayed love songs on repeat.
Where is the smell?
    Cheap coffee blends on your breath.
Where is the touch?
    Rough, gentle, callused hands.

Drifting in an endless tide of nothingness,
    Dark, silent, odorless nights.
         "I love you" loses its luster,
            "Forever" loses it shine
                 Bliss becomes sorrow,
                     Tears become strength,
                        Ashes becomes flame,
                            Red knees of prayer become sore feet,
                               I look in the mirror and find peace. . .
I learned to love again,
      not for you,
            but for me,
                 I learned to say "I love you" to the man in the mirror,
                    Accept, learn and stand once more.
                        Its easy being with you, but hard being alone.
                            Thank you my old beloved.
405 · Apr 2017
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Mother help me,
he comes in the night,
his touch hurts me,
he says he loves me,
The child stays silent,
Looking back his heart wants to scream.
Time comes to pass.
The man lays before me.
why do I cry?
Tears please dry.
He deserved it,.

I was a child,
who he defiled.

*So why do I cry?
397 · Apr 2017
Little Brown Bird Haiku
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Little Brown Red Bird,
Grow your wings soar far away,
In to solitude.
389 · Sep 2021
A Dead Poet Sep 2021
In the mirror I see,
An old vase, full of white chrysanthemums,
Under a sea of emotions,
I imagine the vase in vast hues of blue, red, purple, green.
It changes and morphs into my creation,
but the chrysanthemums persist,
for a vase is a vase, change is change,
but what is inside stays the s̶a̶m̶e̶.
A Dead Poet Dec 2020
8th of August 2012

My dear sweet friend,
my heart should be raging unrelenting, but its full of tepid waves.
   I feel listless as in endless sleep in my mothers womb,
      and yet I ask why?
          self-sacrifice met with betrayal.
a heart so broken,
the very essence of my soul weeps.
    I lay, ever so wide-awake, the silent darkness,
        a reminder, I am alone.

So why my sweet friend,
     do I not curse them,
        wish ill will,
               bad health,
                  or even death?

for when did I become weak. . .

▌│█║▌║▌║ ฬεά𝐤 ║▌║▌║█│▌
A Dead Poet Oct 2021
Is it love?
  No; just imagination.
magical creations; of a longing heart
and ardent passion, burning of desire; wanting.
Only to find disappointment;
Heaven on earth ceased to exist,
    for death tore the veil which shrouded my heart.
which shrouded my eyes; that made me blind.
Now that the spell is lifted, I fall to the ground,
and curse this ʟᴏɴɢɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.
356 · Apr 2017
Don't Leave Me Now
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
All I remember was your vivid smile,
That made my heart burn and go wild!
It was cold on our November night,
We used to say forever and always,
but always has an end.

Tell me? Did I get old
Tell Me? Did I quite simply bore
Tell Me? What did I lose?

& what happened to our matching tattoo's?
You packed your bags, and flew.
While my eyes poured my soul,
and my heart eroded and turned to coal.
352 · Apr 2017
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Neon signs and names on the marquee,
My heart breaks every step that I take,
Walking through these Vegas streets,
Will end alone wrapped in sheets

Blood drips from cut wrists,
I ball in the morning,
my clothes ripped,
*Is this all I am?
350 · Apr 2017
Snow Angel
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Black lips and powdered noses,
Dilated black eyes, like a cat stuck in heat.
Ride the train where madness and ecstasy meet.
What are we waiting for?

Years go by,
full to thin, teeth to gums.
Blood so thin,
black asphalt cardboard lined bed.

blood drips, burned brain
snort it away
your soul is sold
*Sweet Snow Angel
328 · Apr 2020
Dirty Rape
A Dead Poet Apr 2020
Wash away the sins
Wash away the fingers
Wash away the marks
Wash away the pain

A small child
All but five
Thinks such thoughts. . .

Now he writes,
He writes in fury
In anger
In tears

How could he
Why me
What did I do?

He blames himself for enticing ****
He blames himself for not yelling during the pain
He blames himself as he drinks pills and lays
And the only thought
“Hopefully I don’t wake”
I don’t want to feel this ***** ****.
315 · Apr 2017
Bearded Angels
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Touch that sends shivers down my spine,
Breath as ardent as the brightest flame,
Tears that stream my very soul.
Black lined exuberant eyes shrouded in mystery,
Peer through bone, blood and flesh.
My heart cannot take your pleasure and pain
Every tick and every tock is an endless tunnel of unfathomable love.

Fingers bleed, as teeth grit.
Skin tears, and two hands ***** my neck.
Bearded angels scream YASSSSS
The music pumps, the crowd goes wild.
Yet no one notices my insignificance.
I gasp for air; I want to scream but sound is lost.
Life leaves, a body lays against a decrepit bathroom wall.

You killed me, while bearded angels danced the night away.
If only I could live once more,
and experience your fervency once more.
A Dead Poet Dec 2020
Dear Love,

The day of sweet encounter is coming,
  my heart beats in excitement,
     I hear the noise of their tears like rain on midsummer eve,
         and yet sadness does not overtake me,
               I yearn for the love under a desert breeze,
                   a love that blossomed,
                        a love that shattered,
                           death took you from me,
and yet all I can ask is do you still want me?
My love, I am yours,
they cry for me, beg me to stay,
   but I welcome death,
       and his cold embrace
            for until we meet again.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎
310 · Oct 2021
A Dead Poet Oct 2021

I am lost in this dark road of sadness,
I walk ever deeper into the darkness,
     never arriving at the destination.
And from the shrouded dark abyss
of my own phantasmagoric creation I fail to comprehend.
    Am I crazed or simply blind?
Where is the light that they speak of?
  Where is the love we seek to complete our own failures?
Questions unanswered, stuck to this road
  please, teach me to live without s̶e̶e̶i̶n̶g̶.
A Dead Poet Mar 2021
I stopped into a church
I prayed for him to go away
Everyday the sky is gray . . .
I cried , he looked at me & I died. . .
      "Please go away"
             "leave me alone"
                   "stop staring"
unanswered pleas down on my knees
                        I 𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕪
               but he never goes away
A Dead Poet Oct 2021
I want to love myself,
a little more than yesterday,
that is my goal,
but my image
-I̶t̶ ̶h̶u̶r̶t̶s̶
242 · Oct 2020
A Dead Poet Oct 2020
Save me,
   from my world,
      longing for the drugs to "fix me"

Another day of emptiness,
  in the shadow of my own abyss,
       voices. .
              voices. .
                    voices. .

Pacing erratically,
   waiting for a hand,
        to pull me from the sea of my mental anguish.

I want to run,
    save me,

241 · Jan 27
A Dead Poet Jan 27
"why do you dress up?"
my heart dropped, in that moment I knew. . .
I was not a lover, your muse or your dream.
I was your o̶b̶j̶e̶c̶t̶
227 · Feb 5
A Dead Poet Feb 5
The breaking of day,
   your sweaty hand,
        and warm embrace,
           no ***, no words, no sound,
                 just two souls cojoined for a moment in time.  
                              its l̶o̶v̶e̶
223 · Apr 2017
Unrequited Love
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Christine with hair so sweet,*
bald here I weeped.*

Angie lips so full,
my *** is thin.

Leslie broke your heart,
All I have is being smart.

Here I lay in the dark,
wondering what I have done all this time?
Loving you has been my biggest crime.
Unrequited love
A Dead Poet Dec 2020
Every second I wished you dead,
after you touched me,
each stroke
reducing me
. . . human. . .
. . . animal. .  .
. . . worthless . . .

you died,
at the funeral,
  I did not cry,
but I did not want you to rot,
I did not want you to burn,
I did not want to shout from the pew,
I was worthless,
at that time I was five,
but now I am fine,
I guess this feeling
is forgiveness not for you
but for me.

↫↫↫↫↫ FㄖяⓖⓘVє𝐧ᵉŜS ↬↬↬↬↬
A Dead Poet Dec 2021
Baby let me help redesign you,
you are a work of delipidated art,
Let me restore your shine,
      your luster, your being,
                  you. .  
                      for that is perfection. . .
                             or close to it. . .
Playing with new free verse styles (:
196 · Apr 2017
Truth & Lies
A Dead Poet Apr 2017
Truth is but fabrications,
a figment of inspiration.
I can't compare life or death,
Nor the sound of your breath.

Time goes by, and seasons change
No one sees you walking down the street,
Its fall but flowers bloom without leaves.
and here I sit and wonder what is truth?

Eyes closed I learn to paint,
In solidarity I paint your soul,
Brighter with every stroke,
My painting is monotonous,
for it only paints you.

Everyone around me dances,
I ask myself everyday if I have gone insane.
With a smile on my face,
What is truth? What is lie?
All I know is you. . .

Nobody sees me,
but I see you.
truth rejects me,
Fantasy to me is real,
For its all I see, and that Fantasy is you.
193 · Nov 2020
A Dead Poet Nov 2020
I used to find shame,
   in the great staple food of the tamale,
      drinking poor atole,
          and presenting a plate of mole to our guest,

I used to find shame,
   being the son of two "aliens"
        how it plagued me. . .

but like Jarabe Tapatío dancers,
  I found pride,
        in our dances,
            in our culture,
               in my family.
                   for it is me,
                       I am me.
                         I am proud. . .

A Dead Poet Feb 17
Princes don't exist in my narrative,
no magic wand, no mysterious old woman.
no happily ever after ending.
My narrative is no fairy tale,

My narrative is,
you looking into my eyes,
      you touching my skin,
           6 a.m. coffee, full of tired complaints,
playing house, yells , laughs, tears and screams.
You by my side, it is no fairy tale, it is just real life
and that is alright.
186 · Apr 2020
A Dead Poet Apr 2020
Take my hand,
Share this moment
        I'll admit
I am afraid.

         Take the plunge
Into the deep
          Let us love without complexities,

        Take my hand,
feel my beat,
        feel the sweat
I am scared
        You're scared
but let our hearts beat in-unison
         as we steal stars from the night sky.
  --for our love to shine bright in our discomposure--
184 · Oct 2021
A Dead Poet Oct 2021
It is not the pain itself,
It is the memory of having seen the bottom of the abyss,
The pain of each cataclysm, the pain of living torture.

It is the pain of these sleepless nights,
of this vile memory multiplied.
It is the pain of remembering your scent, It is the pain of this heart which beats through my poor crying soul.
The pain of reliving my abyss , full of nothingness, regret, empty , cold, desolate without you.

These memories bring me down,
     to the void, which I now climb alone.
177 · Jan 14
A Dead Poet Jan 14
Here you are,
even now,
bruised but alive,
175 · Dec 2020
A Dead Poet Dec 2020
stroke of madness at my pillars,
  the dark blue sea that fills your eyes,
      break me to the very essence of my weak core
          you see through my impetuous being.

Words, words, they are just words
   but they change the very of aura of my spirit.
      clawing, at the soft bark,
           the rip down my pillars,
                 bring down my wall,
                     your sea rough , tumultuous, unyielding.

I wish I had a million balloons,
to tie and lift me higher,
      and rise above it all
            but your in your ocean,
                 I love myself,
               I call it
Next page