Submissions by Hatful-of-Hollow
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
clueless
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st May 2025 6:52pm
1st May 2025 6:52pm
There is a Staircase...and there are Stars
As a blackbird upon a wire
my soul softly treads upon star staircases,
will the shooting stars just always be satellites
spying nation paranoia until another and another?
Any fall would be similar as before
so please leave a mattress upon the floor
There is an attic which houses unwritten poems
splayed pillows across the most silent of beds
dream a little dream of my arms around your tender neck
tongue each Cymraeg metaphor deep into my throat
And there is an attic
where a svengali could teach me how to conclude poems ...
my soul softly treads upon star staircases,
will the shooting stars just always be satellites
spying nation paranoia until another and another?
Any fall would be similar as before
so please leave a mattress upon the floor
There is an attic which houses unwritten poems
splayed pillows across the most silent of beds
dream a little dream of my arms around your tender neck
tongue each Cymraeg metaphor deep into my throat
And there is an attic
where a svengali could teach me how to conclude poems ...
#unicorns
61 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
28th Apr 2025 2:49pm
28th Apr 2025 2:49pm
An Urban Hymn for Betty & Tod
Feral are the fireflies
which hunger for the light,
jet stream scripts
fuel insomnia theatres –
upon the 3 a.m. stage
yearning is the playwright who loses sight
twenty-two seconds becomes an eternal verse
on the high wire between darkness and the dawn,
we sometimes tremble and fall.
Take lust from poetry
remove sky scrapers from cities
tell village chapels that their God
is too busy eb@y shopping.
From womb to tomb
kite pilots let some of their strings stray,
allow emotional air-raids to exhaust...
which hunger for the light,
jet stream scripts
fuel insomnia theatres –
upon the 3 a.m. stage
yearning is the playwright who loses sight
twenty-two seconds becomes an eternal verse
on the high wire between darkness and the dawn,
we sometimes tremble and fall.
Take lust from poetry
remove sky scrapers from cities
tell village chapels that their God
is too busy eb@y shopping.
From womb to tomb
kite pilots let some of their strings stray,
allow emotional air-raids to exhaust...
#unicorns
103 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Apr 2025 4:19pm
27th Apr 2025 4:19pm
Cymru Blood
subtle is the blade
which separates silver bone from ancestry
plunged are the depths of humanity
threading jokes through a seamstress heart
brother’s blood ran as Cymru red over your parents' womb
did they ever build tombs from last closing?
your voice sang in karaoke graves
rest for a while, amongst the meadow,
berthed beside the man you stabbed in Manchester
and I wonder, how I wonder,
is that your brother's blood on the hands we shake?
You kissed me on the head once and said “you will know”
and sadly. I do know...
which separates silver bone from ancestry
plunged are the depths of humanity
threading jokes through a seamstress heart
brother’s blood ran as Cymru red over your parents' womb
did they ever build tombs from last closing?
your voice sang in karaoke graves
rest for a while, amongst the meadow,
berthed beside the man you stabbed in Manchester
and I wonder, how I wonder,
is that your brother's blood on the hands we shake?
You kissed me on the head once and said “you will know”
and sadly. I do know...
#unicorns
50 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
26th Apr 2025 10:41am
26th Apr 2025 10:41am
If Saturday Ever Comes
There is something you need to know
beyond ambulance hustle and intensive care
the girl of your dreams is sad and all alone
Place your diaries in gutters collecting rain
pray tell the empty side of your
bed it is no longer a tomb,
because there is something you really need to know
beyond ambulance hustle and intensive care
the girl of your dreams is sad and all alone
Place your diaries in gutters collecting rain
pray tell the empty side of your
bed it is no longer a tomb,
because there is something you really need to know
#unicorns
85 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
25th Apr 2025 6:08pm
25th Apr 2025 6:08pm
Shorts from the Space Shuttle's Swimming Pool
No One Belongs Here More Than You
The distance between dying and death
is the loneliness of the long distance lighthouse
drifting love semaphores across raging seas
Tyrannosaur Texts Trump
“They think we’re extinct.”
His giant head lifted slowly
low growls from deep within his belly,
thousands of eyes flickered, focused.
The cavern was awash with the
acrid stench of Jurassic bodies –
“Time to go.”
Above, New York shopped
oblivious to the carnage below their feet
Bring Your Fucking Army
...
The distance between dying and death
is the loneliness of the long distance lighthouse
drifting love semaphores across raging seas
Tyrannosaur Texts Trump
“They think we’re extinct.”
His giant head lifted slowly
low growls from deep within his belly,
thousands of eyes flickered, focused.
The cavern was awash with the
acrid stench of Jurassic bodies –
“Time to go.”
Above, New York shopped
oblivious to the carnage below their feet
Bring Your Fucking Army
...
#unicorns
83 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Apr 2025 1:56pm
23rd Apr 2025 1:56pm
Sprawled in Summertime Oils
The beautiful regret of whiteness
shallow snow of summer falls, still
Breeze tastes the warmth between her thighs
liminal lovers will come to her tonight, perhaps
Slant of wind splays curtains above the room’s waist
sun’s teeth chatter secrets into her mouth, red
As if the sky wasn’t enough
priapic columns are mere chalk, waiting
An urban concrete contemplation of minds travelling
heaps city blocks upon empty streets, fleeting
Harbour of her eyes are pearled
by sight of artillery fire, distant
...
shallow snow of summer falls, still
Breeze tastes the warmth between her thighs
liminal lovers will come to her tonight, perhaps
Slant of wind splays curtains above the room’s waist
sun’s teeth chatter secrets into her mouth, red
As if the sky wasn’t enough
priapic columns are mere chalk, waiting
An urban concrete contemplation of minds travelling
heaps city blocks upon empty streets, fleeting
Harbour of her eyes are pearled
by sight of artillery fire, distant
...
#art
#lust
#universe #war
#universe #war
92 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Apr 2025 7:52pm
17th Apr 2025 7:52pm
Old Lady Forgetting Night Strangers
Wears bees in her hair
sings Sinatra to stop the
noise from under the floorboards
Decants sherry into jam jars
drinks one for her baby
and one more for the road
Play it again Satan
some say she get Devil
but fire in her eyes
are inflamed childhood riots
throw a Molotov cocktail on the bonfire
and she will tell you what it’s like to burn
She can’t see those who tried to love her
just the NO VACANCIES sign
above the room which housed her still born
Air that, all winter, had seemed empty ...
sings Sinatra to stop the
noise from under the floorboards
Decants sherry into jam jars
drinks one for her baby
and one more for the road
Play it again Satan
some say she get Devil
but fire in her eyes
are inflamed childhood riots
throw a Molotov cocktail on the bonfire
and she will tell you what it’s like to burn
She can’t see those who tried to love her
just the NO VACANCIES sign
above the room which housed her still born
Air that, all winter, had seemed empty ...
#faith
#hope
#love
75 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
17th Apr 2025 11:36am
17th Apr 2025 11:36am
Known Displeasures (collab with Casted_Runes)
Sun-bleached English terraces cry out.
Remember when you were fifteen,
and stopped at your mate’s,
and met his mum, and saw the years
lining her face, the bedrooms packed with junk.
The playing fields outside, to which
you couldn’t go at night, and where
the children’s park was known...
as offices for drug dealers. The Joy Division,
it could be called. Thus out of death
and Macclesfield you came to me in my despair,
and in your broken dance and voice an air
blew in, of dark ironic prophecy,
to tear, like love, my...
Remember when you were fifteen,
and stopped at your mate’s,
and met his mum, and saw the years
lining her face, the bedrooms packed with junk.
The playing fields outside, to which
you couldn’t go at night, and where
the children’s park was known...
as offices for drug dealers. The Joy Division,
it could be called. Thus out of death
and Macclesfield you came to me in my despair,
and in your broken dance and voice an air
blew in, of dark ironic prophecy,
to tear, like love, my...
#despair
#music
66 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Apr 2025 2:28pm
13th Apr 2025 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
103 reads
8 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
98 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
94 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
131 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Hatful-of-Hollow
