Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
Different people, different aware
substitute Time for Maiden cares
I'm not so sure
I know
my heart
Depicting times all embrace my skin:
it's stony and hard and Earth-made Djinn
I've got no memories
on the
wall
But Time is for sure to know my heart:
it's gentle, it feels, and never parted ways with
me
again
For one thing for sure
you know my Heart
It's gentle, it reaps, it's torn apart
that you'd be the one I'd own and hold
the World right over now
Devil is me, and I am proud
For you are the answers in the Djinn
I've made some room for where I've been
For you are the only one that matters, matters
at all
For you are the only one that matters...matters
at
all.
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
Poseidon was a god who loved to Dream;
he, unlike his older brother Hades, and younger Brother Hesus,
began to dream of the World of Oblivion
With his head held high and his bra strap held over his chest,
he would imagine and dream of mermen living under the Sea.
His pores would flatten and his pro maculate discord would ripen
He was, as I would believe, a Vestal Virgin whore, as he masturbates
with those who presume to know him from every angle like his brother, Hesus (Zeus') possession of the mythological, Gandymede and Osiris.
Oh, how many bottomless pits of the ocean did he fathom, did he fathom
Did he uproot, did he uproot?
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
Age ain't nothing but a woman, ain't nothing but a teddy bear
--a teddy bear that wears a frown and a skull cap
tin plated hooves cannot cease the evening doctrines of
the schizophrenic mind
but what ails you the most is not the ailment but the advisory
of being disabled in the head
disabled of the mind...
yeah, life's not a picnic, nor a picnic basket
never has never will,
heh! Or has it?
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
He came to me in a rhythm, an ordinary Black American woman, age 33
spilling gentile and Pinesol, and debris of his knee\
A couple of diamonds and pearls, said the dream, "Is the dreaming Awakening me, dearie?"
He showed me his face, his Rabbit hair, like a knight in the king's corner of a sultry, satin fair/
a couple of downy llamas and a few more Pinesol, please
I was in Alice in Wonderland's Labyrinth with a bunny-RABBIT, ahem. Please//
His name was Bugs Bunny, that rascally rabbit. He suited up and wore his gauntlet grid and familiarized himself with his Virginian, er, um, Virginity?
He called himself Shuyin, from Final Fantasy X-2, and the added prequel came from me, the Author and the Narrator of the Story.
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
What is a mermaid?
What is a mermaid? It’s me. I have brown eyes, brown hair, brown skin, and a green mertail similar to the Disney animated Ariel, The Little Mermaid. A mermaid is Wonder; her world is a tropic paradise—and that’s whether you’re awake or asleep, whether you believe or don’t, whether myth or legend. Merworsl suffer because they are personified. Mermen dominate the merworld of mermaids to mergils. There are no bounds here, everything is fight of the fittest, kill or be killed—or mermaned! Poseidon looks. Eh, that is his query? King Triton’s my father? Oh, my dear, what of that? I take flight is Paine’s warrier garment grid pretending, dreaming, imagining things as the famed YRP of Final Fantasy X-2 as I venture on-land with my dreams inside my room. Bored, huh? This is my world…A world I created with the art of Imaginary Science I’ve invented. All it is is dreaming and imagining things along with those voices I hear from my schizophrenia—A schizophrenic gift from Mary Magdekene from the Bible. Ah…life…
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
movement of the word "world"
a center of religion
I am its goddess, a goddess of redemption
peering over my soul bounty I see
what appears to be a pillar of Souls all
wrapped up into a spider web
I see many things In a quiet revolution
I write them down
I have never known a man or woman alive
that could persevere me without being in renown
my "civil liberties" are to debate myself
to antagonize growth hormones, and flower
Like a rose petal, I see you through to the end
but like the goddess of forever, I am only a vixen-- a man, yet a woman
incarnate.
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
movement of the word "world"
a center of religion
I am its goddess, a goddess of redemption
peering over my soul bounty I see
what appears to be a pillar of Souls all
wrapped up into a spider web
I see many things In quiet resolution
I write them down
I have never known a man nor woman alive
that could perserverer me without being in reknown
my "cibil liberties" are to debate myself
to antagonize growth hormone, and flower
Like a rose petal, I see you through to the end
but like the goddess of forever, I am only a vixen-- a man, yet a woman
incarnate.
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
My feelings are so pure and intense—they travel through time. They can be easily dispersed and dismissed as nothing by my schizophrenia, my illness.
Can there be light? Yes, perhaps. These thoughts keep bothering me. After exercising, my head feels fuzzy. My throat is dry, craving a taste of sugar due to my Type II diabetes. I struggle to breathe when I sleep because of sleep apnea.
My world is overwhelming! My feelings are so pure and intense—they travel through time. They can be easily dispersed and dismissed as nothing by my schizophrenia, my illness.
Can there be light? Yes, perhaps.
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
Cupid
Cupid's arrows wiltered me; they hasten the Death of Man
Cupid's arrows wiltered me; they hasten the death of Men
Although Allah is bewildered, the Titans grow ever so near.
Lurking beneath Mercury's shoulders, is Cait Sith of Final Fantasy near.
My cat, Cloudy, is mid-portioned grey not black. A Cait Sith, perhaps? indeed, Cloudy...
Little Angel.
Cupid, you Devil!
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Shelina Chapman Poem
Hideous..! he speaketh. His name was Abe of Jabob.
His tongue was black of Ivory
his skin as florescent as the new moon
Hideous..! he spaketh again, mocking the molden doll, Sally
His eyes curve wide in the threshold of his magnificence--jester?
Oh, no, no, no, no!!!!!
This is Ernest Cumminway, the legendary Jack Sparrow the Skellington's...cousin.
He was still living, living in a molt-town World, where dreams collide of parallel wings that jester you into the Obvious things
And what of his dreams? they dare awaken. Whereas Jack Skellington dares remove his Pumpkin-like skeleton head on that wintery, autumn night. For they live in a world that plays and preys on their sleeping Dreams...or at least it seems...a Sin... They was the fayth of Final Fantasy VII thru IX, amidst 11 and 12 deliver us to neigh.
Copyright © Shelina Chapman | Year Posted 2023
|