Long Creeped Poems
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(This is a fictional poem)
After I watched that Lindsay Lohan movie, I bought a 1963 Bug.
When I tell people my story, they say I'm either stupid or on drugs.
I bought the Bug last month on the twelfth.
It's very irritating because it won't drive by itself.
I know that Bugs can drive by themselves because I've seen all of the Herbie
movies.
But when I complained to the car dealer, he called me a loony.
I put the key in the ignition and told my Bug to drive.
He just sat there silently like he wasn't even alive.
My Bug won't drive, he won't even honk his horn.
I know my car can drive, he's just being stubborn.
People say that Bugs can't drive by themselves but I know they can.
I needed some answers so I went to visit Lindsay Lohan.
I asked her why did her Bug drive and mine remain stationary.
She said I creeped her out and that my visit was quite scary.
She made her dogs attack me and they nearly tore me to shreds.
She said the problem isn't my Bug, the problem is what's in my head.
Form:
Along time ago i felt lost.
My life was like walking into fog.
Misfortune.
I felt as tho god hated me,
to have my childhood taken from me.
Like a teen trapped in a nightmare.
Those nightmares you never wish on anyone,
but yet you felt as tho you had to walk through it alone.
Its our secret my sweet little one,
tho i knew at that age it was wrong but to hard to speck up.
I think thats where i knew god didnt care for me,
falling into deep depression as a teen.
Is a big warning sign,
it was telling people something was very wrong.
But i was labled a problem child.
Bursts of angry and tears, many temps of suicide.
Night terrors creeped into my room at night,
Beauitful dreams became dark,
with sudden flashes of my teen life.
Its been 15 years since that day.
I grew stronger more wiser.
I now know god loves me,
hes giving me the strength to pick myself of the ground. Where i once laid. But the demon still lives deep inside me,
its the thing that stops me from happiness.
From smiling, it just keeps me crying.
But god sent me an angel to help, he smiles and brightens my darkest days.
He hugs me and washs away my pain, he laughs and i see myself laughing along with him. He is the sun in my home, the most natural thing that can beat a bad life is a childs love.
Form:
All I remember is rampant rain and a loud bang.
As dawn distilled through a canopy of palm trees,
glimpses of light reflected like emeralds on leaves.
I felt blessed in its warm golden glow,
as I awoke under clear sapphire skies.
Radiant sun blazed brightly,
reflecting like a fluorescent mosaic
upon turquoise waves kissing my bare feet.
I could hear cobalt macaws squawking
and soaring from cliffs to branches,
as the ocean lulled with a soft lullaby.
The air was so pure, but muggy,
as curious creatures, I had not seen before,
creeped and crawled around me.
As I wandered along a champagne shoreline,
I could hear an orchestra of morning birds,
composing their exotic melodies,
which added to the tranquillity of calmness.
Footsteps of fate led to a verdant forest with
an abundance of mahogany and rosewood trees.
A fluctuation of kaleidoscopic butterflies floated
among a plethora of petals in lush layers of
amber allamandas, maroon mandevillas,
orange orchids and purple passionflowers -
their sweet scents blending with saltiness of the sea breeze.
As my soul connected deeply with my surroundings,
a leafy path of twigs led to a myriad of mangroves,
their roots resting in an aquamarine toned lagoon.
I could see fancy fish in vibrant red, yellow and silver,
swimming in trails of troops around water lilies.
As my enchanted eyes gazed beyond a
flock of fuchsia feathered flamingos,
towards a gentle waterfall cascading,
serenely over steps of rock -
I caught a glimpse of a figure in divine light.
Dressed in ivory and gold,
reflecting in the image of Aphrodite.
Her bronze skin shimmered in the sunlight,
as her flaxen fair hair flickered in a gentle zephyr.
Such was the epitome of her grace, I was mesmerised.
I could have admired her brown pearl eyes, forever.
Unaware the endless blue horizons were
now dipped in velvet and honey hues,
I forgot about the diamonds in the sky.
The moon glowed like a ruby at midnight,
shining scarlet moonlight upon her lips -
my whole being craved for just one kiss.
Before I could approach her,
I opened my eyes in an unfamiliar room,
as a nurse in a white uniform asked me;
"welcome back, are you all right?"
We are identical twins
believing in none of the same things
as alike as a tennis shoe is to a tyrannosaurus rex’s jawbone
We used to play and laugh
We had a silent laugh that creeped out the rest of the family
It could last for a month or two at a time
But then one of us grew up, and moved away.
Became a political being, whereas the other one
does not remember half the time which one is a donkey
We are identical twins
who used to have a mother and father
who kept us together, in the same car, at the same church
We used to be together on so many things
Before I realized there are other religions and other languages
And before my twin forgot who she was and became a social media stirrer of trouble.
We barely speak now
When we do we are careful
She professes to hate liberals, and I am the most liberal liberal I know.
Luckily, I also know that she does not know what a liberal is.
Some people do not have to know what “they are” in order to despise them.
Dreams of doom fill me quickly,
And overshadows my whole being
Thoughts as dark come to be,
With impending doom,no longer seeing
I feel so tired and weary
All of sudden feel heavier on my feet...
Nothing to hold me, I can't take a step,
His evil presence makes heart faster beat
I'm falling into a darker, endless hole,
And a fear like none other, raises over me,
Where horrifying,undead faces my heart grips...
He overpowers me and his dark riders creeped on me...
The precious they want from me at any cost...
And the ring bids me to do his master's will, at last.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
November,22, 2014-
We were class mates for 6 years.
Sat on the same bench together and did fun things.
But we had different views on life.
You looked to the stars above.
And I looked at the starkness of life.
And so you became a successful career woman
With tons of money and fame.
While I wandered through the world trying to find meaning.
Yes our lives were different and jealously creeped in.
But then I saw you in church one day.
And as the collection box passed by I saw you slipped in a miserly tenner.
I thought wow I think I am richer than you in many ways.
Yes my life is like a quilt of brocade, different patches all stitched up together.
But what a lovely piece of tapestry it is when I stand and observe.
And I think Yes God I am Blessed.
This cool summer breeze dancing around me as i sit on the rooftop of downtown brunswick
Admiring the beauty of the city
New brunswick had a different vibe at night, it wasn’t as hectic
It brought peace and a rushload of memories
Like the times me and my friends would come up here because we only felt that sense of freedom up on the roof , that aliveness that the clouds brought as they creeped with the sunset
New brunswick will always be home , no matter how many miles I move away
The burger and bubble tea place on easton will always serve the best , just like the cute record shop across the street that will always be hip
A lovely city , no doubt
The process of murals covering the walls and the community coming together to get rid of hate
It is a beautiful growth of what’s to come
Gemini born, an obvious air sign,
She loved the breezes, the more brisk the better
They brought butterflies, dragonflies and damsel flies
Didn’t they?
She liked nothing better than to lie in the grass
While little ants creeped up her legs reading a book
Did not matter what book, she found value in most
As long as there was a breeze lifting her hair up
As the gentle breeze caressed her arms and legs
The summer sun would warm her
Together they would lull her to sleep
She would wake up happy, loving neighborhood sounds
Mrs. Rutherford laughing at something Mrs. Zee said.
Mr. Rutherford’s buzz saw, Sophie’s collie’s happy bark.
Nothing like a little snooze in the middle of June
Next to a gentle loving breeze.
I saw a ghost, when I was small,
It had a shadow, upon the wall.
My mother left, to go to the shop,
And the house is where, I had to stop.
Me and Buster, my precious old dog,
Who sat on my lap, like a heavy log.
We watched TV, and played around,
But got disturbed, we heard a sound.
A loud bang was heard, Buster took a look,
Whilst I lay still, for I was quite shook.
His snout went up, towards the air,
And he fell into a long, and gazing stare.
He barked as he ran, towards the door,
But soon he stopped, and looked at the floor.
He ran back to me, whimpering and scared,
And I cradled him, as he watched and stared.
I creeped to the door, to a long narrow hall,
And saw a shadow, upon the wall.
I gasped in awe, I was petrified,
‘There’s something here, it’s come inside’.
A door half open, at the end of the hall,
Began to move, and creak, then stall.
My eyes did widen, cold entered inside,
‘What is there?’ In the room it would hide.
The door would move, once again,
It widened the crack, and suddenly then,
Buster did run, away from me,
There was somewhere else, he’d rather be.
He hid on the sofa, as I slowly looked back,
Down the hall, and towards the crack.
Then I saw, the ghost appeared,
The crack in which, it slowly neared.
The room was dark, but light enough to see,
A large dark figure, that was looking at me.
The dread I felt, on that faithful night,
Kept me awake, until morning light.
My mum came home, and I told her the story,
Of a dark floating figure, with feelings so gory.
We went to bed, and the following day,
Her face was white, she had something to say.
‘You know that thing, you saw last night?’
She said to me, with her face of fright,
‘I woke up this morning, around quarter to three,
And the figure you said, was stood next to me!’
A true story
Where will your children pay you a visit? My sister asked.
She is creeped out because I will have no headstone.
No one lives in the cemetery I tell her.
She nods “I know, but….”
At this point I know that she kind of thinks that people do.
This is where I will be when my poems and my paintings stop.
I will be in the smiles of my family and friends.
I will be in the serving tray of scalloped potatoes.
I will be in the clouds, the trees, the flowers and the rain.
I will be a part of the God-mind, doing what I can to uplift and revitalize.
I will be doing what I do here, except on the other side of the veil.
I will inspire hope and love and light.
I will encourage enthusiasm and joy.
I will do the best teaching I have ever done
Until I am recycled, returning as my great-grandchild
When I will start the process all over again.