Dripping, drowning - Original poem and illustration

After writing Sanatorium of the dead I didn't quite feel finished with the whole blood and gore scenario, I'm in a grim mood these days. I don't mind  though because at least it makes me creative. I have no idea why that is, but there it is...could I be more of an artistic cliché?

Anyway I made a bloody/vampire illustration inspired by "Sanatorium of the dead", and the illustration in turn inspired me to write a poem. Don't you just love that artistic snowball effect when one piece of art inspires another? I know I do!

So here it is, the poem and the illustration!

N.B.
I do have to mention that most of my poems are not autobiographical, they are more like short stories, really short flash fiction if you will, or musical songs.

Words and artwork (c) Anita K. Olsen Støbakk

Dripping, Drowning

My lips they drip,but is it bile or is it blood?

I cannot close them
cannot stop the flood.
I'm spilling over on the floor

there are pools at my feet

does my body truly contain more?

I'm drowning in myself

drowning in myself

My heart still beats,

every beat is one step closer to killing me!

I want to stop it
want the gods to hear my plea.

but it's too late to ask for salvation

I'm a lost and wayward girl,

the architect of my own damnation

I'm loosing against myself

loosing against myself

I need help

help...

Cheers Mateys!

Anita, the literary pirate

On/Off - Some new pirate poetry

Well as some of my followers might know I have recently joined the masses of mentally plagued and medicated little girls. Therefore I have not been capable of reading or writing much as of late. Don't feel sad however, I'm still here and today I have a delectable little treat for all of you. It is a brand spanking new poem I have written that I hope you will enjoy. Three guesses what it's about? Seriously what do you think is the intent behind my words?

Leave your cleverly crafted theories in the comment section!


On/Off

I can be charming like Cleopatra
brave like Joan of Arc
passionate like Marie Curie
and my smile can break your heart

And as if that was not enough
there are a million things you
still don't know about me..yes
I'm a tasty little cream puff
made up of all the right stuff

I can be artistic like Marie Antoinette
free like Amelia Earhart
dedicated like Florence Nightingale
my personality is state of the art

Oh, and did I mention my
consuming mental illness?
I'm sorry dear was that too much
forget my indiscretion we wouldn't
want you to get the wrong impression...

(c) Anita K. Olsen Stoebakk

Cheers mateys,
Anita, the literary pirate.

Broken Glass - original poem

This is a poem I think I wrote in 2009, I have troubles remembering why I wrote it. Knowing myself I was probably going through one of my depressed periods. They come and go all the time. In any case I still kind of like it, it has a ring of truth to it I think.


Broken Glass

I tread on pieces of broken dreams
They cut me like pieces of broken glass
Every cut leaves a mark
in my soul and in my heart

Through all the cuts and bruises
at least you stuck around
Now help me put together all the shattered pieces
I have found

I used to have more faith in me
but faith seems to be in short supply these days
will you have faith in me,

and see what I no longer see.

by: Anita K. Olsen Stoebakk


Cheers Mateys,
Anita, the literary pirate.