Late Night Poets Official DA Kickoff!Late Night Poets Official DA Kickoff! by MozartsNemesis
Late Night Poets
Hey guys and girls, welcome to Late Night Poets, DA Edition. I personally have known the Late Night Poets on AOL for a couple of years, and they are some amazing, talented individuals. Most questions you have can be answered by their website here: http://latenightpoets.com/
Also the first official newsletter is out, and I'm going to have to provide a link for it, because after three hours of trying to upload it onto DA, I put my head down in defeat. ^.^ Newsletter.
To a war-torn girlYou are so much moreTo a war-torn girl by MozartsNemesis
than body parts and ash.
You are more than battle scars
on knuckles, wrists, or heart.
You are more than a refugee
huddled in a blanket on the far side of a fire,
and I will not let you forget it.
You are steel-spined and soft-hearted,
ocean-born and tempest annealed.
You have strode into fire and famine
to stare death in it's face
and you have wept for those consumed;
Your tears do not speak to weakness.
Your eyelids are seared with memories
that would crush mere men with the weight of them,
yet still you sing hymns of remembrance and
anthems of a persevering future.
You are a reassuring lighthouse on a violent shore
and though the rains may march and thunder cannonade,
you stand, illuminated, a beacon of hope,
a message clear:
Whatever may come, it will not wreck you,
for I have walked through worse.
Bitter goes both waysThere was more joy in your smile thanBitter goes both ways by MozartsNemesis
in a lifetime of heartfelt hallelujahs.
Oh, but you never smiled just for me.
You insist on calling me at three AM
when all the world is dead to sleep.
Oh, but you know I'll be here listening.
Tell me again how being cryptic makes you special,
why there are blindfolds on both of us.
Oh, but you never cared enough to see.
I tore brain cells and hamstrings,
learning to walk and write to you at the same time.
Oh, but you never hesitated to walk right over me
and now you're afraid because my voice
is just another death knell hallelujah.
Oh,There's no one left to weep for thee.
Pick apart a loyal heart,and pay for liberation.
Hope is thin to cull the din, for no one heeds damnation.
AlcoholicYou saw GodAlcoholic by allofmyconfusion
swaying in your vodka smeared dreams
living in a picket fence Suburbia,
how things have changed.
You saw everything
in the rhythm of your shot glass.
Love was never guaranteed.
Binge, obsession is a taste
I can't rid myself of.
I never see God in my Smirnoff,
but it hits cold and terrifying
just like how I remember you
so I keep drinking
until it tastes like hate.
existentialism and shoddy metaphorsI was violet-cheeked andexistentialism and shoddy metaphors by intricately-ordinary
diamond-hearted; a work
of art in reverse,
tearing between my ribs
and calling it beautiful,
and I wonder now why they
never taught me this in school;
the sepia-saturated glow life
gives out some point after
you’ve realized wishes are
for those who’ve not yet
woken more alone than when
they went to sleep,
they never taught me all
the reasons why or that
sin tastes sweet. I met
my maker once in a backalley
bar, stormy eyes and peppermint
breath, charming off a hangover;
he sighed, “I know how many
days it’ll take you to give up
completely. I know how many
dreams you’ve sold away and
how many lies you need to
swallow before you can fall asleep.
I know that you’ve never quite
grown up and I know that
you’re afraid of me” he
smiled silent and downed
another drink, losing himself
in the ramblings of a solipsistic
existence where “I” am finally all
that matters (and sometimes
I believe I was built hollow
the passage of 'you'when i step alonethe passage of 'you' by ohsostarryeyed
into my shower,
it's you when
i hear the folsom prison blues
and when i drink bitter coffee-
it isn't you
when i sleep in white sheets
and patterned pillows,
a hand in mine
and soft cyrillic letters
to wake me.
it's you in my closet
hidden somewhere in the depths,
it's you in my short hair,
it's you in the photos of ireland
taken by my friends-
but it's not you
when these lips grace my ears
with words softer than you
when these lips grace my face
in softer ways than you
when these lips grace my heart
in softer ways than you
had hardened it.
i am trying to be
a better person
and he is helping me
Poets of Lates is dedicated to the celebration of creative minds. We are a welcoming forum for poems, stories, art and ideas. We encourage absolute beginners, seasoned pros and anyone in between.
All we ask is that everyone be treated with respect. Poets of Lates is a reflection of our community spirit. A place to share, develop and reveal the best parts of ourselves.
If you have any questions, feel free to message me, MozartsNemesis, any time.
Other useful links: Late Night Poets on AoL in case some of you out there want to drop by and chat with the lovely people on AoL.
Chat Roller- For you facebook poets out there, this one lets you chat and is available through FB.
For our Veterans - to all the veterans out there, we salute you, and we thank you. Some amazing patriotic poetry here.
Causes- A list of the various causes we support.
Poet of the Month- Every month we feature a poet, and there are some awesome ones on this page.
Improv Poetry- A new thing, happening in our aol chat room, come out and join the fun!
Also we're going to be mirroring the Late Night Poets poetry challenges here on DA..more of that to come with the next update!
Current Residence: Amarillo, Texas|
Favourite genre of music: Country or Rock, some metal
Favourite photographer: Larry W. Stone
Favourite cartoon character: Bryan from Family Guy
Personal Quote: The only thing in this world that you can count on from people is that they will let you down.
If you would like to listen to a sample of poems read by the author (Me!) There's is a soundcloud.com/mozartsnemesis here.