I Comfort Myself

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If you'd like to hear me read poems and do a little comedy live then then check out episode 3 of my live show here: [link]

Author's Comment:

It's occurred to me recently that people might be getting tired of long poetry. I've noticed that viewership around October tends to suffer and maybe it's because some people are closer to their exam periods and they can't really read long pieces + Halloween and other events.

So what do I do about it? Create a new technique of course :3

This is a little something I call 'Shot-Glass Poetry'. Essentially it has the following characteristics:
1. The use of spaced out lines to make it more relaxing for the reader's eyes.
2. The length is short overall (much like a shot of rum)
3. Emotion must be there (A single shot is potent after all and this mimics that)
4. It must be simple to understand (It's not a cocktail)

By using these four characteristics (taken from various other poetic styles) the combined result is a relaxing semi-smooth piece that still carries the emotional impact of a longer poem, but is much shorter in length and suitable for someone who just wants to relax at the end of the day and get the same feels without the hassle of reading a long piece.

I'll be doing these shots actively, so please let me know if you like them. I think it'll be nice to space out my longer work with quick shots in between especially during stressful seasons when people need to relax more ^^.

This piece in particular, speaks about the feelings that some people have at the end of the day. Particularly if they live alone. For these lonely individuals, sometimes that cup of coffee and a window pane is really all you have at the end of the day. Heck, even I end up with just that sometimes...but a warm drink can still feel pretty darn good :3

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

Other Poems by Me:
Yeah I'm Stupid! Yeah I'm Stupid!:

Indeed you are absolutely superior. A divine being, more intelligent,
Learned and completely right in everything you say about me.
However, if I might be permitted to — as they say in slang —
"Drop the beat", then I'd like to show you my own style of doing things.
Art thou ready for this my sibling from a different parent?

-

Sir can I have just a moment of your time? I think I lost
My will, let me sit and bust a rhyme — rappin' like I'm
Edgar Allan singin' Raven songs, thank god I have a
life and love that keeps me really strong. See I
Understand the fact that you may not like the things I do,
Str Waking Nightmares Waking Nightmares:

It begins in the same way, every single night
Fire spreading from an altar in the darkness—
As all living beings are slowly consumed,
The coruscating flames appear wet with blood…

The scene then changes to a flooded hallway
Live wires dangling just above the water,
Like venomous serpents slithering in the darkness—
A single pounce would end my life…

Eventually the hallway ends with a door,
One that reminds me of forgotten yore—
And my thoughts shall be in rhyme at this point
As though lips and tongue are eternally joint…

What maddened schemes have they in mind?
It is not a questio This is for the Reader This is for the Reader:

With the soft touch of his fingers
The piano begins to play, a heart untouched for so long
Bares its secret melody...

-

When I first started out I couldn't avoid just bein' cold
My life revolved the things that I was always told—
I never knew the warmth of standing up to take a bow
It was not a joy that I would ever-ever be allowed
Through all the days I feared that everything would disappear
You held me up and held me close like I was something dear
I never knew I had a part of me that you would like
I guess that's what you feel when you can't even see the light…

-

So this is the only way, that FEAR FEAR:

Frantically he scrambles away from the dark
Eager to be free of his waking nightmare
Acting only upon the instinct within him;
Reminded constantly that he is prey

For some time he hides in the pervasive shadows—
Earnestly praying that he will not be discovered
A single sound is all it takes to jar him;
Running from a creature that he can barely see

From head to toe it is certainly monstrous
Enshrouded in an aura of absolute repugnance
As the acid drips from its cruel jaws,
Rapidly dissolving the ground below

Fearful, he cowers, beneath boxes and cardboard,
Escaping away into a tiny corner of his mind
Alone with only

Other Literature by Me:
Mercenary 1-1 MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si