Submissions by Lozzamus
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction I compare poetry to painting, believing that I lack any drawing/painting skills but believing my imagination and training in writing has enabled me to transfer my love of visual art to the written word
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Dec 2019 9:17pm
6th Dec 2019 9:17pm
Late Dawns And Early Evenings
the frost creeps up each morning
a faint coating on the pavements
slippery but barely visible
the temperature has dropped
a hint of ice hangs in the air
promising worse as winter approaches
long nights and late dawns
the sun melts the dew during the day
only for it to turn to ice once evening falls
the promise of winter
a faint coating on the pavements
slippery but barely visible
the temperature has dropped
a hint of ice hangs in the air
promising worse as winter approaches
long nights and late dawns
the sun melts the dew during the day
only for it to turn to ice once evening falls
the promise of winter
#fall
#nature
#Christmas
24 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Dec 2019 00:02am
1st Dec 2019 00:02am
Beauty In The Wilderness
The patch of land lies bare and unspoilt
An array of paths that weave through trees
Mud puddles and rusty railings
Steps that twist up a steep rise
An assortment of hidden colours
The photographer’s hour
A fresh wind
A hint of sunlight
Silvery like a winter mist
An array of paths that weave through trees
Mud puddles and rusty railings
Steps that twist up a steep rise
An assortment of hidden colours
The photographer’s hour
A fresh wind
A hint of sunlight
Silvery like a winter mist
#countryside
#nature
38 reads
4 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
24th Nov 2019 11:52pm
24th Nov 2019 11:52pm
Amnesia
Nearly five hours had passed since she’d put the washing in the machine and poured a glass of orange squash.
In the kitchen, she found the radio off and the back door bolted, although she couldn’t remember bolting it. An empty glass stood on the kitchen table, along with a half eaten banana and the remains of a sandwich. A snack she didn’t recall preparing.
The washing had dried and was folded up on a chair. Presumably, she’d taken the clothes out of the machine, left them to hang on the washing line in the heat, then brought them in once they’d dried.
Another...
In the kitchen, she found the radio off and the back door bolted, although she couldn’t remember bolting it. An empty glass stood on the kitchen table, along with a half eaten banana and the remains of a sandwich. A snack she didn’t recall preparing.
The washing had dried and was folded up on a chair. Presumably, she’d taken the clothes out of the machine, left them to hang on the washing line in the heat, then brought them in once they’d dried.
Another...
#scary
#memories
#confusion
68 reads
8 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
21st Nov 2019 8:12pm
21st Nov 2019 8:12pm
Trapped In A Religious Sect, Simeon's Story
His joints ached from the cold. Crunching up the empty coke can, he tossed it into the bin with a perfect throw and left the park.
He walked up Church Street and turned onto the High Street, chest tight with anger.
He didn’t like wandering around searching for people, as it reminded him of how he’d run along the Dorset cove in the middle of a heat wave, a boy of eight looking for an elderly gentleman and their wife, eager for news on estranged relatives.
He’d ended up by the fair marquee in the middle of the seaside resort, sweaty and thirsty and hungry....
He walked up Church Street and turned onto the High Street, chest tight with anger.
He didn’t like wandering around searching for people, as it reminded him of how he’d run along the Dorset cove in the middle of a heat wave, a boy of eight looking for an elderly gentleman and their wife, eager for news on estranged relatives.
He’d ended up by the fair marquee in the middle of the seaside resort, sweaty and thirsty and hungry....
#rejection
#childhood
#despair
56 reads
10 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Nov 2019 11:44pm
15th Nov 2019 11:44pm
Frozen In A Forest
Lost in the forest,
Took a wrong path,
All the paths looks the same,
Obscure, shadowy,
Hidden by trees.
Fading daylight,
Darkness now,
The temperature drops,
Rain and hail,
Roar of a gale.
He shelters under a tree,
Shivering,
His stomach rumbling with hunger,
Feet caked in damp mud,
His toes numb from the cold,
Tears frozen on his cheeks.
Took a wrong path,
All the paths looks the same,
Obscure, shadowy,
Hidden by trees.
Fading daylight,
Darkness now,
The temperature drops,
Rain and hail,
Roar of a gale.
He shelters under a tree,
Shivering,
His stomach rumbling with hunger,
Feet caked in damp mud,
His toes numb from the cold,
Tears frozen on his cheeks.
#rejection
#winter
#nature
52 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th Nov 2019 11:08pm
13th Nov 2019 11:08pm
November Rain, The Seasons
Rain, a steady patter
A source of refreshment
The air, cool but comforting
The sounds outside, lulling, calming
The scent, mild with a hint of soil
Autumn
A source of refreshment
The air, cool but comforting
The sounds outside, lulling, calming
The scent, mild with a hint of soil
Autumn
#countryside
#nature
#peace
39 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Nov 2019 9:01pm
8th Nov 2019 9:01pm
The Rag-And-Bone Man: A Forgotten Age
Rag-and-bone! Rag-and-bone!”
A man trudges down their street,
Small and bent over and pushing a cart.
He stops right outside their house,
And taps on the window.
“The man is coming and knocking on the window.
Shouting and laughing and tapping at the glass.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
The bone man’s here,
Standing in the hallway with a bottle of gin.”
A man trudges down their street,
Small and bent over and pushing a cart.
He stops right outside their house,
And taps on the window.
“The man is coming and knocking on the window.
Shouting and laughing and tapping at the glass.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
The bone man’s here,
Standing in the hallway with a bottle of gin.”
#city
#alcohol
#poverty
55 reads
8 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Nov 2019 8:47pm
1st Nov 2019 8:47pm
The Castle Moat
The scent of wild flowers blend with sun and sea
The waves below splash
Helping him remember
Buried recollections of a childhood someone else lived
Whispers from other places
A breeze from the cliffs
The cafe veranda with spiky railings
Buckets and spades and sandcastles
The warmth of sand in his sandals and toes
Standing near a castle in the summer heat
Eating ice cream by the moat
While the grown ups smile and take photographs on an old Polaroid camera
The waves below splash
Helping him remember
Buried recollections of a childhood someone else lived
Whispers from other places
A breeze from the cliffs
The cafe veranda with spiky railings
Buckets and spades and sandcastles
The warmth of sand in his sandals and toes
Standing near a castle in the summer heat
Eating ice cream by the moat
While the grown ups smile and take photographs on an old Polaroid camera
#beach
#holiday
#memories #nostalgia
#memories #nostalgia
68 reads
10 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Oct 2019 8:08pm
30th Oct 2019 8:08pm
Winter Lethargy
The nights draw in early
Cold and damp
The moon hidden behind clouds
Nearly absent
The heat indoors becomes stifling
The chill outside
Raw and primitive
One sleeps without resting
Lost in shadowy dreams
Fighting off colds and flu
In the morning fog hovers over the pavement
Cheerless like factory smoke
The damp leaves tease early morning commuters
Waiting to trip them as they hurry to the bus stops
Deadlines and stresses loom
The promise, or the threat, of Christmas
Mounting pressures...
Cold and damp
The moon hidden behind clouds
Nearly absent
The heat indoors becomes stifling
The chill outside
Raw and primitive
One sleeps without resting
Lost in shadowy dreams
Fighting off colds and flu
In the morning fog hovers over the pavement
Cheerless like factory smoke
The damp leaves tease early morning commuters
Waiting to trip them as they hurry to the bus stops
Deadlines and stresses loom
The promise, or the threat, of Christmas
Mounting pressures...
#fall
#morning
#boredom
54 reads
7 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
26th Oct 2019 11:56pm
26th Oct 2019 11:56pm
Rejoicing In The Law, Manchester, UK
Aged ten. My favourite Jewish Festival was Simchos Torah (Rejoicing in the Law). It fell in the autumn, along with Yom Kippur and the Jewish New Year. As the title suggested, it was one of the more joyous festivals of the Jewish cycle, spread over an evening and morning, with a small party at the conclusion of the evening celebrations and an even bigger one in the morning.
That year, we drove to the synagogue from our home near the Pennines in Lancashire, parking at the top of the street to avoid upsetting the rabbi and the more observant members of the congregation.
...
That year, we drove to the synagogue from our home near the Pennines in Lancashire, parking at the top of the street to avoid upsetting the rabbi and the more observant members of the congregation.
...
#childhood
#religion
#memories #nostalgia
#memories #nostalgia
43 reads
4 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
25th Oct 2019 11:39pm
25th Oct 2019 11:39pm
The Little Shul in Manchester, UK
Aged five. The Sabbath.
In the morning, we took a walk to the synagogue in Cheetham Hill The Little Shul, as we referred to it. We lived in a three-bedroom terrace house in Sedgley Road, about two miles from the centre of Manchester.
The houses surrounding the one in Sedgley Road had privet hedges out by the fronts, along with the damp look common to properties in the north of England. A few minutes away stood a huge Catholic Church on the main road.
This building for whatever reason would conjure up images in my mind of fried cashew nuts...
In the morning, we took a walk to the synagogue in Cheetham Hill The Little Shul, as we referred to it. We lived in a three-bedroom terrace house in Sedgley Road, about two miles from the centre of Manchester.
The houses surrounding the one in Sedgley Road had privet hedges out by the fronts, along with the damp look common to properties in the north of England. A few minutes away stood a huge Catholic Church on the main road.
This building for whatever reason would conjure up images in my mind of fried cashew nuts...
#childhood
#religion
#nostalgia #separation
#nostalgia #separation
39 reads
4 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
23rd Oct 2019 8:44pm
23rd Oct 2019 8:44pm
The Visitor
Rolling onto her side, she reached for the pillow and pressed the cool fabric against her face. For a long time, she lay like this, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, longing for sleep, yet dreading it in case she remembered the night of the party and the missing hours.
Later, the sound of footsteps broke into another restless dream about prison. Soft, purposeful ones on the stairs – unlike Bill or Meg’s or the boys’. Footsteps treading up the old narrow staircase to the landing, stopping outside the study where she lay in the dark, unable to move or make a sound. ...
Later, the sound of footsteps broke into another restless dream about prison. Soft, purposeful ones on the stairs – unlike Bill or Meg’s or the boys’. Footsteps treading up the old narrow staircase to the landing, stopping outside the study where she lay in the dark, unable to move or make a sound. ...
#scary
#mystery
#nightmares
103 reads
11 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lozzamus
