DamondQuinn's profile

DamondQuinn avatar
AGE: 100
LOC: Sicklerville, NJ
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: July 14

Writing, writing and more writing. The only way I can descibe myself is through my words. So this I why I continue to write.

For I was bound by a plight
So profound
Searching for what was lost
And never found
This unstable ground
So brown this ground
Searching for pastures of green
Needing life itself to cleanse my spirit
To set me free

A soul lost for an eternity
Bound by circumstance
Never given the chance
Pierced by the lance
Of gloom in this reality
Such this fallacy
That baptized and professed
And set this blame to me
And called me out of my name

So angrily I avow
Just for awhile
As I rid myself of this pestilent dark mile
That has been unjust to me
So lustfully, I seek this word peace
But dare not sp…

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Items
Poetry / The Grey Eye
Version 1
9 Reviews   13 Comments
Even though a grey eye should be sworn, it was born to the plight of colors in sight. A nurtured fight, A crusade mislaid, of prejudice taught by kin. Unknowing basking in hate, We reside in a spirit, Unbeknownst to vision, Living in the satisfaction of abstraction. So the world moves a trudge, within the footprints created by their peers. Our teachers seen in glory, Us puppets stringed to stories, Of lessons immoral but obligated , Nothings familiar - yet we feel hatred. How puppets bid and ...
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Poetry / Too Opinionated
Version 1
8 Reviews   8 Comments
Based on life experiences we scribe, Opinions written like psalms, Holding strength in them, Like deep, vibrating shrills Of mallets striking sentences. Moaning a wretched hearts bail, Each hand of the clock, Ticks minutes - hours. For the powerful golden sun, Esteems our beings, Like spawning trout upstream, Hoping to mate life itself. So existence can continue, But like trout we continue, To freely scribe our opinions on the menu, As if we were all one in the same. Slavery we are one in the...
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Poetry / Please Help Me Tie My Shoe
Version 1
10 Reviews   11 Comments
Boundless emotions hung on clothesline, Wooden pin pinching - clips my sides, Hung to dry; soul evaporating, Beside black and red tee-shirts, Blue jean dripping touching my white sleeve, Staining the corners of my existence. Irony in summer’s honeysuckled breeze, Pasting flavor into the pores of my being, Stiffening fibers, cardboard image, Daisies teasing golden-capped tops, To far below to be touch, Held to high to be reach. Sun piercing bleached grey skies, Wind blowing my neck from side t...
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Poetry / In Favor Of Flashier Garish Fare
Version 1
9 Reviews   9 Comments
Treasures unsought, bounties unasked Innumerable pearls left to the clams, Subtle brilliance left inside dull shells remain unnoticed and the world will overlook such polish In favor of flashier garish fare. Fast food fun and shrieking shouts Outshine a radiant benevolence under an ashen aura Humming under its breath A melody to exquisite and pure to be lauded By the already impatient audience Waiting to rhythmically beat tedious hands Of grey lines masked in a silver streaked sky Eclipsed by...
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Poetry / Casualty Of War
Version 1
10 Reviews   11 Comments
Black scars of Purple love bruises, Transformed Black drunken nights, Steaming radiator brain, blowing its spout, Careless soul walking, urban desert, Beaten by flashing Blue, Orange neon lights, Scream……. Of concrete shin splints, Smoked musty flavored pubs, Dusty tables housing butt filled trays, A waitress Rose, Doesn’t wash her hands after restroom breaks, Still she serves Brown chilly topped hot dogs, with beans and, Pints of porter that cost a dollar fifty, I watched her while, Perched ...
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Reviews
Poetry / Circle of Seven
by sadpoet
Seven is a devine number. I liked how you mixed this divinity into your poem. Your write was very calm and peaceful. There were no tedious lines and like a spirt I floated. I think it's depth was decent but I felt like you were holding back some. Overall a very well read piece.
Non-fiction / The Lingdale Lass
by poetking
Locked
Haiku/Senryu / Pallette
by RedBarchettaDrive
Locked
Poetry / Daddy’s leaving
by youngjed
Damn man I understand how you feel because I have a son a I had to leave. I also understand the still being there no matter what. What I don't understand is why such a simple write became so complicated and all over the place. "It’s strange, the pause: Rushed, warm from applause" why and who would clap in this situation. Is it the youngest child just do to that they do not know any better? That line seemed forced and out of place! "The nip, nip, nip, nip Happy fish tickling lip" was this supp...
Poetry / Beach Walk
by Stargate
Locked
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