Like water falling over a crest
A swift rapid descent into a black hole
The paradox known as my life
Disguised as a pseudonym plunging
Ever deeper into a swirling
Of emotions into depths unknown
Cascading over cliffs at ever greater speed
Feeling out of control
Coalescing into a bottomless pit
The sheerness of the sides
Ever sharper the deeper I fall
Leaving no way out
Holding my breath
For the inevitable free fall
Into a chasm of darkness
Is this my destiny or fate
Or just another nightmare among many
That I will endure
Until...
Andreas Simic©
Categories:
pseudonym, dark, fate, life,
Form: Free verse
his passion
self taught, no degree, very insecure
he does it anyway
his pseudonym
surname of who makes the art
he likes the most
his life
could be cut shorter, could happen
he waits a chance
Categories:
pseudonym, boy,
Form: Free verse
There is power in a name and with my name my abilities amplify,
An alter ego of sorts I don,
To help paint my true self across a page,
A second destiny,
I choose my fate once again,
Or should I say they choose their own fate for the first time,
I am a poltergeist crafting the words on behalf of my significant other,
Two worlds I don’t wish to collide just yet,
Therefore, one must remain the shadow,
Identity shrouded in secret,
I could be male, female, non-binary,
No system can pin me down,
Since I’m neither a 0 or a 1,
Chromosomes; X and Y, don’t apply here,
Those letters are only useful when I’m coordinating my reasons why “X marks the spot” on these treasures of words gifted as a poem,
I am my writer’s puppeteer,
The only irony…
Is that I create freely,
No strings attached.
Categories:
pseudonym, poets, writing,
Form: Free verse
My name, William A Cleator, sounds like a stuffed shirt to me,
but Billy TheKidster sounds like a lot more fun possibly.
Categories:
pseudonym, self,
Form: Couplet
Dear unknown sage who writes with grace,
I flip each page and live fond trace.
Your words inspire a prompting quest,
There is a fire that floods firm zest.
Each wordplay verse springs a firm light,
I now observe true magic bright.
Upon the whim of wit and form,
There hurls a theme beyond mere norm.
Lines breeze and wave in tragic seas,
As if to save what comes to be.
Lines gather round images here,
Find common ground to fund sure spheres.
Words cast ideas to greet wordplay,
Sweet moments cheer, sad feelings stray.
A picture zooms within my view,
I now make room for trials that cue.
Shades and tints flow in afterglow,
A timely hint echoes to show.
The pathway leads to garden tryst,
I stop to heed, sort that and this.
Waves rise and fall like sweet and gall,
True sense recalls, memory stalls.
Dear writer show, the unknown sphere,
Pulse flavours flow, right movement cheer.
Leon Enriquez
07 Apr 2014
Singapore
Categories:
pseudonym, celebration,
Form: Couplet
Life, as a pseudonym,
Drags its shadow's shadow, which snarls
Itself around traffic cones and
Streetlamps, tearing at its skin
With deliberate intimacy
To alarm light witnessed
Only through strained peripheral vision.
A lace-stitched veil
Slips through sidewalk cracks,
Unisolated windows,
Cataract smooth eyes.
The flesh of the matter invades
Such as the Red Death
In living color--Vibrant
Cadavers speak the language of Love:
Mortality;
It slides over possessive nouns, sticky
As salivation,
Push and rattle and harbor themselves against
Warm, wet cavities eroded
In the backside of actualities
Sweet Tooth.
Authentic miasma, honest illness.
Any footprints discarded in covers of dust
In which Fear has been recognized
Yield into thoughts by persuasion
Of waves.
Categories:
pseudonym, allegory, hope, introspection, life,
Form: Free verse
A talent
that outlived
passing fame-
hidden beneath
her lover's name.
Tribute to Mary Evans ie George Eliot
Categories:
pseudonym, on writing and words,
Form: Narrative