New Poems Poetry

Have No Fear!

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1544 days ago on Poems Poetry - Alright have no fear! As many have already noticed, I have been lacking on the posts for the past few months but have no worry! You can easily say that I am taking a late summer break. I have been transitioning from new jobs, medications and my life is starting to tone down again to where it was before. With that said I now have a planned line up for this next so quoted 'Season' as you may. Both 'The Child' and 'Listening For That Sweet Tune' have ended their first acts and I have already been writing the next ones but I wanted to get a few more stories out there. '--Somnia' Will be taking place in the near present future of the world creating a dystopian society and a breaking out of social normalities. 'It Happened On A Tuesday' takes place in the mind of a patient in a mental

Our Last Words

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1544 days ago on Poems Poetry - So is this where I stand?Flicking mutters in the wind.With no place up to go save myself.I think my nerves rather thin.So is that where you go?Somewhere else where no one knows.Striking that same old poseto go and to save just yourself.I’m growing tired of this joke.Am I always second in line?Well that’s where I am now.A vacant building torn and abandoned.Crumbling under my feet.You drink like an ocean,you’re as shallow as the beach.You need to talk to go and save yourself,but the waters at your knees.So I left you like a disease,but you still think we're fine.You're to caught up in your mind to go save yourself.I jumped right out of sight.So where do you stand?Not here because its cracked.I left to go and find my mistakes,but you are unraveling without the string.Where am I now

I Am Black Cold Heart

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1544 days ago on Poems Poetry - I am black cold heart, its been waiting for love.You, been waiting for love.You, are liars entrust.I am black cold heart, its been waiting for love.You, been waiting for love.You, are liars entrust.  This is what it's come to be.For the whole world to see.I tell you to take these wordsHold them to your chest.Then think you'll never ever,wish that you were dead.I never thought that this was present. I can't help but to feel like a peasant. Now these blood soaked hands,makes me a man.Though it’s something, that I never want to be.It's just some sacrifice,cutting out angels eyes.Though I never ever wanted this to be.Though I never ever wanted this....I am black cold heart, its been waiting for love.You, been waiting for love.You, are liars entrust.I am

Violence & Poetry Pt. 2

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1544 days ago on Poems Poetry - I live in the midst of strangers,crawling down my throat.My life's so abstract sometimes,I beg to choke.Reflections in the mirrors, are as fake as glass.I like to watch they shatter,as I pass,to watch,the lines,between us.I sing,the songs,of birds.A sewn, up heart, laced with, all your piercings.To fill  our holesoh god.Violence and poetry.Am I, as sharp as a knife,digging through, your spine?I just walk it off, sometimes.Running fromthe angels. Am I, late enough?Well no one, was watching.She fills herself with drugs,all I do, is watch her.Am I, in love with a whore?I need your serpent blood,so please, slit my tongue.I sing,the songs,of birds.A sewn up heart, laced with, all your piercings.

The Child: Entry 33

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1672 days ago on Poems Poetry - Previously on The Child:Entry 32When I finished the first section, I looked up from the small manuscript titled 'The Child’ to see Ville's father looking at me with his arms crossed. 'Can you somewhat understand us now Emery?' He said. I scratched my head a little and responded.'So what happened next Mr. Halstein?''Please, call me Franz, only my business partners call me Mr. As for The Child, it goes on about the Delecroix family and their legacy that was made by his mother.''His mother?' I asked. 'Yeah. You will read about it when you get further down. The Child, much like yourself, was able to attract the box into his grasp and change its form to what he wanted. This brought up great stress in the Coram Morte so they plotted to sacrifice him. His mother ended up taking his pla

A Poets Dying Thoughts

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1681 days ago on Poems Poetry - As I fall.I'm staring at you all. Over my head,I'm not one to complain.Face the truth,and all the battles of my youth. Hard to ignore,all your screaming sounds. When does the devil run and go asleep?Like how do you know when waters below your knees.The sun feels like a gaping hole, that holds all the light of mine. The standard is now growing fake,It was a love that you loved to hate.  I can't stand all these things we do.I want to stand and wait for you. I am on my way out. The tunnel of light it gleams and it’s so bright.I am on my way out.My youngest tied of all the words that I need to say.Why can't my head contemplate you?Why can't you be still see this through?Why can't the walls cave in on me,and keep me there for eternity?Can we st

The Child: Entry 34

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1681 days ago on Poems Poetry - Previously on The ChildEntry 33The elevator dinged telling me that I was on floor 61 B and though I was expecting everything to be dark and black, I wasn't surprised to see many shades of red and blue instead. Right out of the elevator was a rather large round room with twelve-foot ceilings with scattered ribbons on the walls above me. Directly in front of me on the other side of the room was an arched hallway that went on for several feet into another room. To my left and right were two more identical hallways leading to other rooms as well. Lining the hallways were various stone statues of scantily clad women; some didn't even have clothes but all were wearing similar looking masks. Old renascence Venetian masks covered the faces of these statues. Some were square, others roun

—Somnia Act 1: 2

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1681 days ago on Poems Poetry - Previous:Act I:1 in              Act I:2 in The person I previously got off the phone with was a woman by the name of Temperance. Kind in her words and even kinder in her footsteps, I feel that this simple woman could be something more to me, something more than a friend, someone special to my soul—if we even had souls. I feel that at least I do, the soul I mean. When you live your life by being told what to do—no existence of right or wrong because you have no choice—I feel that you would be unable to have a soul. It makes sense in theory but when you see this in the flesh you could only wonder what is the exact representation of a soul?I normally view it as something that resides inside of you that tells you right from wrong and if you f

Ballad of the Lost V. 2

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1681 days ago on Poems Poetry - Hey,I can see you. I can see right through the core of you.I'll take you where you want to.Like through the universe and back.You can love me,I can love you too.You can lie in my bed.I can smother you.Now this holocaust of dreams,sounds familiar to my ears. We are yearning for the cold.We are yearning through the years.I know you can see me,through the corners of your eyes.And I can stand tall,while I wave goodbye. Torn thoughts deep.                             within my head.                                       So many people                    

Spin and Shout

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1681 days ago on Poems Poetry - Starting in the next few months I am going to start posting a considerable amount of short stories throughout the upcoming year. At that time it would be a year since my last short story The Man Who Cured The World. If you know of my general themes and what I stick to I would also accept ideas or questions about the universe I am creating in my writing to write further into.Additionally, on January 1st I will have a new chapter to every single one of my current stories. Those stories follow: First And Last, Listening For That Sweet Tune, The Child, -Somnia, It Happened On A Tuesday. We spin, and shout, as we dance around the fireI twist, and turn, as I search for words for you. I try, to tend, to the broken hearted.We sit, and wait, for the early departure.Remember me

The Child: Entry 35

Posted By CoreyRhodes 1681 days ago on Poems Poetry - Previously on The ChildEntry 34She might as well have cut all the way through her arm; white shined from the open gashes and it only took moments to realize that the white was bone. I looked back up to her and I noticed that she started to cry as her mascara and eyeliner began to smudge further down her face. She never returned her gaze to me though; her eyes were fixed on her open cuts. Even though it was very deep I couldn’t see any fresh blood pumping through her veins, everything was dry and empty, maybe her soul was too. 'I never meant to cut this deep, it just felt so good.' She sighed. 'Why aren't you healing up? Ville can do that. ' I asked. 'The whole immaculation process is different for a woman than it is a man. A man has to make massive cuts through the cen


Posted By CoreyRhodes 1681 days ago on Poems Poetry - The lonely watchman in his lighthouseNever had a peaceful mindThe lonely watchman was the reason for the light butHe had picked a darker sideThe simple city was peculiar It was always a simple shade of greyBut the lonely watchman and the fullness of his light hePushed the darkness all awayHe always hid all his daemonsAs he stumbled on the groundThe lonely watchman saw in the corner of his eyeA pretty woman of the lightLike a lamb to the slaughterHe watched his body lay to restCigarette lit And his palms outWaiting for his first damn kissTill you showed himWhat he can beUnder his skinRemember me