Submissions by Casted_Runes (Mr Karswell)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I write poetry on a range of subjects and in a range of styles. My privacy is extremely important to me, though I hope that you enjoy my work and that I enjoy yours.
DARK POEM
Published
4th Oct 2024 10:22pm
4th Oct 2024 10:22pm
Nightmare Fabricator
I have always been afraid.
From lying on my bed at seventeen
and thinking what if I
could kill my own brother,
to wondering how serious
my father was when he said that he could
kill me and get away with it.
I came to horror thus, to existential dread,
the rotting carcass of the head
the grim bordello of the heart.
And if there’s grace at all
it’s passing these things off as art.
From lying on my bed at seventeen
and thinking what if I
could kill my own brother,
to wondering how serious
my father was when he said that he could
kill me and get away with it.
I came to horror thus, to existential dread,
the rotting carcass of the head
the grim bordello of the heart.
And if there’s grace at all
it’s passing these things off as art.
#fear
#horror
#identity #violence
#identity #violence
102 reads
3 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
4th Oct 2024 12:43pm
4th Oct 2024 12:43pm
you can’t go home
a trope outside of time
with featureless white rooms
in place of where you thought you’d be
or streets at night with yellow glass
implying someone else’s warmth
you hear your name among the trees
and telephone wires
yet hardly know where home now is
and scream and scream and scream
with featureless white rooms
in place of where you thought you’d be
or streets at night with yellow glass
implying someone else’s warmth
you hear your name among the trees
and telephone wires
yet hardly know where home now is
and scream and scream and scream
#dreams
#home
#identity #memories
#identity #memories
80 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
30th Sep 2024 4:52pm
30th Sep 2024 4:52pm
Scapino
The new flats built on Eagle Street were semi-luxurious and advertised as being for "young professionals". Previously it had been a council property and used to house needy families as well as other "problem cases" that the local authorities felt obliged to deal with, including addicts and recently released prisoners. There was a scandal two years before the council sold the premises when the tenants of one flat murdered a young man whom they'd brought home from a nightclub. One of the killers was a collector of clown memorabilia and seemed especially fond of a persona...
#evil
#ghosts
#horror #scary
#horror #scary
136 reads
3 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
27th Sep 2024 11:31am
27th Sep 2024 11:31am
Lines Handwritten Inside a New English Bible
The skyline of the new Jerusalem
stands out against a cloth of black.
To me, an English church
is always clean and crisp like March mornings,
a spray of orange sunflowers,
a stained image of lambs.
The image-bearers walk in robes of sun
and might include me too, if I
could make the leap to faith.
The Bible structures rise within my head,
the flat-roofed cities of the plain
atop which women bathe.
stands out against a cloth of black.
To me, an English church
is always clean and crisp like March mornings,
a spray of orange sunflowers,
a stained image of lambs.
The image-bearers walk in robes of sun
and might include me too, if I
could make the leap to faith.
The Bible structures rise within my head,
the flat-roofed cities of the plain
atop which women bathe.
#Britain
#Christian
#religion #spiritual
#religion #spiritual
129 reads
3 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
26th Sep 2024 6:32pm
26th Sep 2024 6:32pm
Photographs, a collaborative diptych
These two poems represent a collaboration with a sleeping DU member, who spends his spare time writing on the sole of his slipper with a biro. The first poem is mine, the second is his.
Human Remains
We returned to the house
a time after
and mowed the lawn
and painted where
the paint had started to peel.
And somewhere in the process
we found photographs of how they looked
when they were young
and their home hadn't yet become
a mausoleum.
She wore pink crinoline on special occasions
and he wore moccasins. ...
Human Remains
We returned to the house
a time after
and mowed the lawn
and painted where
the paint had started to peel.
And somewhere in the process
we found photographs of how they looked
when they were young
and their home hadn't yet become
a mausoleum.
She wore pink crinoline on special occasions
and he wore moccasins. ...
#humankind
#LifeCycle
#loneliness #memories
#loneliness #memories
117 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
26th Sep 2024 6:21pm
26th Sep 2024 6:21pm
LIVE FEMMES
it all just falls away,
the memories of girls.
the games they played,
the records they made,
the cootie-riven curls
and feminine landscapes melting.
until all that remains
are two splayed legs in neon tights
above a sign that reads LIVE FEMMES.
the feminine has always been
bought and sold in the marketplaces,
eternally reducing to
the old cliches of male lust.
pink games and purple prose...
products live once and then crumble,
the bloody teeth of time
forever at their heels.
the...
the memories of girls.
the games they played,
the records they made,
the cootie-riven curls
and feminine landscapes melting.
until all that remains
are two splayed legs in neon tights
above a sign that reads LIVE FEMMES.
the feminine has always been
bought and sold in the marketplaces,
eternally reducing to
the old cliches of male lust.
pink games and purple prose...
products live once and then crumble,
the bloody teeth of time
forever at their heels.
the...
#art
#feminism
#PopCulture #sex
#PopCulture #sex
95 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Sep 2024 1:34am
25th Sep 2024 1:34am
as anyone else
I spent a good lot
of my misspent youth
obsessively reading
about artists
so that now
when they’re being cancelled
I can say ‘I already knew
Armie Hammer liked flesh!
if I lived in LA I’d have warned his poor wife
to never spill barbecue sauce on herself!’
and ‘of course the Foo Fighters
were AIDS denialists!
I read it on some random site
circa 2009.’
the lesson is that artists
are just like politicians:
they might do you good,
but are just as much bastards
as anyone else.
of my misspent youth
obsessively reading
about artists
so that now
when they’re being cancelled
I can say ‘I already knew
Armie Hammer liked flesh!
if I lived in LA I’d have warned his poor wife
to never spill barbecue sauce on herself!’
and ‘of course the Foo Fighters
were AIDS denialists!
I read it on some random site
circa 2009.’
the lesson is that artists
are just like politicians:
they might do you good,
but are just as much bastards
as anyone else.
#art
#culture
#PopCulture #relationships
#PopCulture #relationships
100 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
14th Sep 2024 4:11pm
14th Sep 2024 4:11pm
Autumn in the Suburbs
Sometimes I think I'm just a murderer,
obsessed with one season,
stalking the red-gold woods and streets
with gloved hands and an ambition
to stain an oak tree red with blood
and thereby bring balance to creation.
Such absolute beauty
as autumn in the suburbs must
be paid for with a sacrifice.
I learned this holy fact when I was twelve
and hiding in the trees
I saw a man garrotte his love,
and leave it underneath a shroud
of crunchy, fallen leaves.
The lonely October unfurls,
a maid upon her silken bed. ...
obsessed with one season,
stalking the red-gold woods and streets
with gloved hands and an ambition
to stain an oak tree red with blood
and thereby bring balance to creation.
Such absolute beauty
as autumn in the suburbs must
be paid for with a sacrifice.
I learned this holy fact when I was twelve
and hiding in the trees
I saw a man garrotte his love,
and leave it underneath a shroud
of crunchy, fallen leaves.
The lonely October unfurls,
a maid upon her silken bed. ...
#dark
#fall
#fear #night
#fear #night
116 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Sep 2024 6:56pm
12th Sep 2024 6:56pm
Elders
after Philip Larkin
They tell you lies, your dad and mum,
Sometimes without intent,
But no-one cares enough to say
And so you reach your adult day
Stuffed full of their bullshit.
Like other people aren't as clean
Based on the colour of their skin,
That gays'll touch your boys
If left alone with them. Our elders,
We must understand, are fucking idiots.
The prejudices change with time,
But man's a lowly animal.
So live and build your capital,
Then move to what comes next and pray
The elders there aren't...
They tell you lies, your dad and mum,
Sometimes without intent,
But no-one cares enough to say
And so you reach your adult day
Stuffed full of their bullshit.
Like other people aren't as clean
Based on the colour of their skin,
That gays'll touch your boys
If left alone with them. Our elders,
We must understand, are fucking idiots.
The prejudices change with time,
But man's a lowly animal.
So live and build your capital,
Then move to what comes next and pray
The elders there aren't...
#childhood
#father
#mother #parent
#mother #parent
104 reads
1 Comment
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Sep 2024 3:10am
9th Sep 2024 3:10am
sure, buddy.
a guilty pleasure of mine is
reading conversion therapy books
by men who are clearly gay
and trying to make me believe
that rest stop encounters they’ve had
finished with the glory of God
shining down and saving all
between the oil pumps and bogs
because through prayer they’ve overcome
their thirst for same-sex touch…
sure, buddy.
reading conversion therapy books
by men who are clearly gay
and trying to make me believe
that rest stop encounters they’ve had
finished with the glory of God
shining down and saving all
between the oil pumps and bogs
because through prayer they’ve overcome
their thirst for same-sex touch…
sure, buddy.
#LGBT
#religion
#sex #shame
#sex #shame
157 reads
4 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
7th Sep 2024 6:14pm
7th Sep 2024 6:14pm
Jamesian
I first read MR James
back when I was devouring
the great horror writers,
and fell in love with woods
and groves and old Victorian houses.
The buried witchcraft dolls
and monsters out of Kings
and Chronicles were somehow balm to me.
Suggestive as they are of more vibrant,
stranger, and better roaming spots than these.
back when I was devouring
the great horror writers,
and fell in love with woods
and groves and old Victorian houses.
The buried witchcraft dolls
and monsters out of Kings
and Chronicles were somehow balm to me.
Suggestive as they are of more vibrant,
stranger, and better roaming spots than these.
#ghosts
121 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
5th Sep 2024 6:44pm
5th Sep 2024 6:44pm
Two Portraits
It has the air of tragedy.
Or maybe I'm too sensitive,
just like my brother said. The pair
of photograph portraits, acquisitive
of dust and filth, atop the air
conditioner inside what was
my brother's teenage room. The left
of her, my stepmother, who died
by suicide now sixteen years ago.
The right of him, my dad,
so newly dead, of cancer in what should
have been his 69th year born.
The both of them now shorn
of influence by death and time,
their worldly goods parcelled.
She in her picture looking up ...
Or maybe I'm too sensitive,
just like my brother said. The pair
of photograph portraits, acquisitive
of dust and filth, atop the air
conditioner inside what was
my brother's teenage room. The left
of her, my stepmother, who died
by suicide now sixteen years ago.
The right of him, my dad,
so newly dead, of cancer in what should
have been his 69th year born.
The both of them now shorn
of influence by death and time,
their worldly goods parcelled.
She in her picture looking up ...
#childhood
#family
#father #parent
#father #parent
121 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Casted_Runes (Mr Karswell)
