Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
pandemoniac Mar 2022
Abandon definitions.

They are abbreviations of something abstract, abundant alive.

I am an admirer, an adaptation

an affiliate of things
antique and alien,

And who are you?

An anthology of secrets
An aggregate of emotion.

We are an allegory of nothing and all things

An affinity for the absurd
An animosity for analysis.
[my writing prompt was to write a poem using as many letters starting with "a" as possible]
pandemoniac Feb 2022
the pen is not mighty
the lily is not pure

and blood is not vengeful nor beautiful
it is just red

but i like stories

that white shirt you once wore
now yellow with use
that sweater you've had for years
adorned with the patches
of accidents gone by
that scar on your back
from when you fell off a swing
those lines by your lips
the remnant of a smile
and a smile and a smile

I like stories
i love reading yours

there are rabbits on my moon
divinity in my incense
my oaks stand mighty
my sun rides a chariot

park benches donated in memory
hasty scribbles on classroom benches
superstitions about crows and cows
love stories to make word games

i come from a world of stories
where the people are made
of matter and molecule
of memory and metaphor

i like stories
and this one's my favourite
a little happy poem i wrote when i was bored in class
pandemoniac Apr 2021
silent poet thinking words,
never i must write
lucid wretched loving words
all bark and half the bite

silent poet thinking thoughts
the ink refused to make
mind and pen are separate
an unyeilding opaque

if i tell the tale to you
of love and praise and good
you'd laugh and laugh and laugh some more
naive misunderstood

my mind a chasm of infinite good
the world dichotomous strange
the vines do seize me gently
to a velvet padded cage

my head is a bed of roses
the thorns pierce me not
i am safe and free and happy
delusional, deep in thought

**** me softly
make me smile
your intoxicating
rapt exile

silent poet thinking thoughts
writes symphonies in his head
the writer and the audience
will dance until they're dead

silent poet thinking words
is struck by stockholm syndrome
perfect captor perfect world
illusion is his home
why am i not a good story-teller if all i do is daydream?
pandemoniac Mar 2021
lofi hip hop decorates my brain
notebook formulaic and profane
anxiety seeps my malleable mind
latching onto anything it finds.
wrote this to procrastinate
pandemoniac Mar 2021
the clouds say hi
mosaic sky
invigorating petrichor
satisfied sigh

worms come to breathe
sea and land bequeath
downcast children wanting more
sky a gloomy wreath

go out in the rain
and feel life on your skin
energy made lucid
earth's spirit within
what is rain, if not the heavens showing us proof of their existence?
pandemoniac Mar 2021
stainless steel and skin
do make the worst of friends
the friction
the senses
survive and protect

will love always leave
is light simply a lie
steel blades
play god and death defy

electric is my mind
my heart is numb and small
just lave
Over walls cold and tall

am i just worth not
the love ; you're unaware.
hurt much
i'll go deeper so you care

my mind only filled
with endorphins happy red
of proof
of life; the raccoon fed

stainless steel and skin
do make the best of friends
the cuts and seams i penned
the journey of self harm - from the time you use it when you're sad, to the time it's your only source of happiness

— The End —