Submissions by Hatful-of-Hollow
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Seriously?
LOVE POEM
Published
Today 2:28pm
Today 2:28pm
I Woke in the Dark and Came to Find You
Awake in the far away
morning origami enfolds
sun into nested wreaths,
flights of light lift lids of urn jars
love’s black box records more than bones
Will the strangers who fuck in rearranged spaces
handrail the walls, fingerprint the window hinges
left slightly open to stained absence of passion, lived?
Sea susurration weaves through curtains,
our shingle breaths wrote a beach
where the tides never reach
Slept my way back to
the music of our rains
and broken landscapes
morning origami enfolds
sun into nested wreaths,
flights of light lift lids of urn jars
love’s black box records more than bones
Will the strangers who fuck in rearranged spaces
handrail the walls, fingerprint the window hinges
left slightly open to stained absence of passion, lived?
Sea susurration weaves through curtains,
our shingle breaths wrote a beach
where the tides never reach
Slept my way back to
the music of our rains
and broken landscapes
#love
#sadness
23 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Apr 2025 4:14pm
11th Apr 2025 4:14pm
Talking to Strangers about Sex and Sunsets
Whispered ectoplasm dawn
softly buries screaming ghosts,
broken are the weeping windows
thou her morning opening
swings silent doors open
If she forgets my name
by the evening rush-hour
distilled by memories of
vodka breath between her legs,
then temptation is merely another
limb in the human abattoir
softly buries screaming ghosts,
broken are the weeping windows
thou her morning opening
swings silent doors open
If she forgets my name
by the evening rush-hour
distilled by memories of
vodka breath between her legs,
then temptation is merely another
limb in the human abattoir
#emptiness
59 reads
7 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Apr 2025 2:51pm
4th Apr 2025 2:51pm
Crawl
The taste of your anaemic skin
quenched upon Cymru tongue,
let me swim in the sweat of your neck
and roll my tongue over how Burton seduced Taylor
each whispered vowel would drive her legs wider.
Geography of your jaw
is a county wishing for a continent to invade,
if I could write the verbs of your cunt
then even Shakespeare would blush and die
the groin of my discontent
We are the Welsh
the feral you only see on tattooed skin
We are the Welsh
who have died in
so many wars
for freedom…..
quenched upon Cymru tongue,
let me swim in the sweat of your neck
and roll my tongue over how Burton seduced Taylor
each whispered vowel would drive her legs wider.
Geography of your jaw
is a county wishing for a continent to invade,
if I could write the verbs of your cunt
then even Shakespeare would blush and die
the groin of my discontent
We are the Welsh
the feral you only see on tattooed skin
We are the Welsh
who have died in
so many wars
for freedom…..
#unicorns
79 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
3rd Apr 2025 11:36pm
3rd Apr 2025 11:36pm
Union City Blues, what is a boy to do? collab with Poet Speak
There was something about Debbie
Her ripped tops
No bra
Pert nipples
Angelic voice
Punk salvation
Warhol elevation
Sold out arenas
All of us guys lusting
Not getting
But taking a Debbie look alike
Behind the bar
Fantasies
Hardons
Hand jobs from Sheila who had cheap beer breath
While Debbie drank good champagne
Would I ever dare
to whisper my name
across your shoulder blades,
too young to understand
the promise between your thighs
why there was a groin throb which ached?
...
Her ripped tops
No bra
Pert nipples
Angelic voice
Punk salvation
Warhol elevation
Sold out arenas
All of us guys lusting
Not getting
But taking a Debbie look alike
Behind the bar
Fantasies
Hardons
Hand jobs from Sheila who had cheap beer breath
While Debbie drank good champagne
Would I ever dare
to whisper my name
across your shoulder blades,
too young to understand
the promise between your thighs
why there was a groin throb which ached?
...
#music
105 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
3rd Apr 2025 6:12pm
3rd Apr 2025 6:12pm
Death of the Music Thread
Let me sing the dying roses
of barbed (radio) wire bouquets,
MacGowan whispered to Sinead
“aren’t these the reasons why we lived
sang the measure of our dreams.”
The jukebox will never die
the final beat of each heart attack,
even never played symphonies
will find fingers on their piano
Russian who etched her soul
on lyrical ectoplasm, shrouded
in Kremlin mists of orchestral fists,
Norwegian who stripped bark from every tree
left wood splinters in eternal oceanic seas,
the Tamil girl who sang the negligee of...
of barbed (radio) wire bouquets,
MacGowan whispered to Sinead
“aren’t these the reasons why we lived
sang the measure of our dreams.”
The jukebox will never die
the final beat of each heart attack,
even never played symphonies
will find fingers on their piano
Russian who etched her soul
on lyrical ectoplasm, shrouded
in Kremlin mists of orchestral fists,
Norwegian who stripped bark from every tree
left wood splinters in eternal oceanic seas,
the Tamil girl who sang the negligee of...
#lyrics
52 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
3rd Apr 2025 2:33pm
3rd Apr 2025 2:33pm
Seven
Six times I have laid my head on death-beds
if you have never felt the warmth of a corpse,
then please, leave your heart on library shelves
And then the seventh
words hollower than Auschwitz choirs,
her silence was the midnight rain
falling in pavement cracks ,
but I felt the breath on her lips
collected in my pillow jar,
forever yesterday, our love will always
be the lighthouse where not even
drowned sailors can reach
And then the eighth…
promises are merely rotten fruits
stowed in hearts of Summer orchards, ...
if you have never felt the warmth of a corpse,
then please, leave your heart on library shelves
And then the seventh
words hollower than Auschwitz choirs,
her silence was the midnight rain
falling in pavement cracks ,
but I felt the breath on her lips
collected in my pillow jar,
forever yesterday, our love will always
be the lighthouse where not even
drowned sailors can reach
And then the eighth…
promises are merely rotten fruits
stowed in hearts of Summer orchards, ...
#death
#love
74 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
2nd Apr 2025 10:16pm
2nd Apr 2025 10:16pm
Fifteen minutes with you.....
Sunlight shade turned
your face from blue into wine,
how I drunk from the barrels of your beauty
Hungover, even too shy,
to leave my desires on poetry walls
the third pillow was always too far
too far, to hold you in the night
your face from blue into wine,
how I drunk from the barrels of your beauty
Hungover, even too shy,
to leave my desires on poetry walls
the third pillow was always too far
too far, to hold you in the night
#UnrequitedLove
104 reads
7 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
2nd Apr 2025 6:04pm
2nd Apr 2025 6:04pm
Sister, I'm a Poet
Tenderly, you cradled me through
every skin-storm and hurricane
No school-bell bully
ever laid their finger on me
I watched your children weep
swept their tears into paper-cups
When we held Dad’s hand for the final time
dementia ‘s shotgun held the final bullets
bang! bang! we were all dead ,
blood on our slippers was merely truths
every skin-storm and hurricane
No school-bell bully
ever laid their finger on me
I watched your children weep
swept their tears into paper-cups
When we held Dad’s hand for the final time
dementia ‘s shotgun held the final bullets
bang! bang! we were all dead ,
blood on our slippers was merely truths
#family
#love
50 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
2nd Apr 2025 00:31am
2nd Apr 2025 00:31am
And then, suddenly, someone said Shakespeare has died
old long since
sadness are the shore shingles
which will never drown,
we watched our school friends die together
How many women took us up the stairs
to touch to feel to caress,
our webbed fingers never made us Superman
there was always Lex Luthor, dredged in black
metaphorical chains gallow’ed upon neck
Well, not quite
Indigo in eyes of his children
north by northwest, or north by fucking anywhere
are rainbow’ed hues of the future
and I know (I know) rainbows are such a poetic cliché.
Turn my...
sadness are the shore shingles
which will never drown,
we watched our school friends die together
How many women took us up the stairs
to touch to feel to caress,
our webbed fingers never made us Superman
there was always Lex Luthor, dredged in black
metaphorical chains gallow’ed upon neck
Well, not quite
Indigo in eyes of his children
north by northwest, or north by fucking anywhere
are rainbow’ed hues of the future
and I know (I know) rainbows are such a poetic cliché.
Turn my...
#BestFriend
#identity
74 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
31st Mar 2025 10:50pm
31st Mar 2025 10:50pm
Sayonora, DUP
A solitary Xmas decoration still hung in September
solemn souvenir that the walls were closing in
and the demented South African drew her last blood from me
Lovers and vodka posted ‘Wanted’ posters
on every besieged street corner,
field notes on survival were lost in wastelands
Cursor became beacon
amidst oceanic detritus,
lonely man in lighthouse
google-searched his heart,
this wasn’t the Underground of commuters
or theatre lovers wishing to break Shakespeare’s spine
Maybe she was the Spanish girl
playing...
solemn souvenir that the walls were closing in
and the demented South African drew her last blood from me
Lovers and vodka posted ‘Wanted’ posters
on every besieged street corner,
field notes on survival were lost in wastelands
Cursor became beacon
amidst oceanic detritus,
lonely man in lighthouse
google-searched his heart,
this wasn’t the Underground of commuters
or theatre lovers wishing to break Shakespeare’s spine
Maybe she was the Spanish girl
playing...
#DeepUndergroundPoetry
#unicorns
70 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Mar 2025 6:32pm
30th Mar 2025 6:32pm
'Catch Me When I'm Falling'
She said
“don’t forget to catch me.”
Morphine and methadone bombs
darkened skies as Messerschmitt air raids,
Nazi assassins had invaded her body
each cargo held an obituary
I dreamt about you last night
and fell out of bed twice,
death-bed promises run freer
than Snowdonia streams,
always going to waste in the wrong arms
our silver lies in mountain jewellery
Death-bed promises are the thud
of cemetery gates closing,
you rehearsed the verse before the hearse
drove her wheels to the foot of our bed
“don’t forget to catch me.”
Morphine and methadone bombs
darkened skies as Messerschmitt air raids,
Nazi assassins had invaded her body
each cargo held an obituary
I dreamt about you last night
and fell out of bed twice,
death-bed promises run freer
than Snowdonia streams,
always going to waste in the wrong arms
our silver lies in mountain jewellery
Death-bed promises are the thud
of cemetery gates closing,
you rehearsed the verse before the hearse
drove her wheels to the foot of our bed
#love
70 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th Mar 2025 6:56pm
27th Mar 2025 6:56pm
Shorts from Marilyn Monroes's Autopsy
Trigger Happy
Every night he pretended to shoot himself in front of her
enjoyed her pleas and screams as the blanks fired.
Time for change, she decided wearily,
swapping live bullets for the blanks,
time for change, he arrogantly decreed,
‘tonight I will pretend to shoot the baby’
Skin’phonies
Strung at the throat, each
sinew a symphony of strings
in the unforgiving space between skins.
Sex tourniquet binds bleeding guitar wounds
to drum beating, louder than bombs
Glassed in Portsmouth
...
Every night he pretended to shoot himself in front of her
enjoyed her pleas and screams as the blanks fired.
Time for change, she decided wearily,
swapping live bullets for the blanks,
time for change, he arrogantly decreed,
‘tonight I will pretend to shoot the baby’
Skin’phonies
Strung at the throat, each
sinew a symphony of strings
in the unforgiving space between skins.
Sex tourniquet binds bleeding guitar wounds
to drum beating, louder than bombs
Glassed in Portsmouth
...
#unicorns
62 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Hatful-of-Hollow
