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
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
21st Jul 2021 7:17pm
21st Jul 2021 7:17pm
Mid July 2012 (part 1)
I arrive at the appointment about a week later. The nurse carries out a number of tests.
Bad news. One of tests reveals that I have the lung function of a man thirty years older than I actually am.
‘I’m not very good at blowing out quickly,’ I say, hoping the nurse will repeat the test.
She smiles. A sort of knowing-smile. ‘We did the test three times.’
‘What happens now then?’
‘Stop smoking.’
‘I’ve tried before. It’s too difficult.’
That same knowing-smile. ‘Make an appointment for the Quit Smoking Clinic.’ ...
Bad news. One of tests reveals that I have the lung function of a man thirty years older than I actually am.
‘I’m not very good at blowing out quickly,’ I say, hoping the nurse will repeat the test.
She smiles. A sort of knowing-smile. ‘We did the test three times.’
‘What happens now then?’
‘Stop smoking.’
‘I’ve tried before. It’s too difficult.’
That same knowing-smile. ‘Make an appointment for the Quit Smoking Clinic.’ ...
#tobacco
#addiction
#determination
8 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Jul 2021 00:17am
8th Jul 2021 00:17am
A Perfect Day In Dorset
a single decker bus back to the bay,
along the coastal route,
past tea places and an empty fair marquee,
country lanes flanked by ancient gnarled tree trunks,
sun-parched fields, lone cottages standing back from a road,
signposts for a farm appear,
cows in a field, gaze ahead with fixed expressions.
a tall fence,
an orchard,
approaching the coast,
a line of cliffs stretching east,
giftshops selling postcard racks,
Buckets and Spades,
holidaymakers ambling towards the seawall by the promenade,
children...
along the coastal route,
past tea places and an empty fair marquee,
country lanes flanked by ancient gnarled tree trunks,
sun-parched fields, lone cottages standing back from a road,
signposts for a farm appear,
cows in a field, gaze ahead with fixed expressions.
a tall fence,
an orchard,
approaching the coast,
a line of cliffs stretching east,
giftshops selling postcard racks,
Buckets and Spades,
holidaymakers ambling towards the seawall by the promenade,
children...
#childhood
#nature
23 reads
7 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
2nd Jul 2021 9:51pm
2nd Jul 2021 9:51pm
A Concert
The theatre was unexpectedly busy, about a third full. I sat in the centre where I had a good view of the flat stage. On Friday, I too would perform on stage and I felt excited about it suddenly.
The lights dimmed. The conversation died.
Applause rippled through the old auditorium and a man and woman stepped out of a green room, onto the stage. A well-known violinist and piano accompanist, although I'd never heard of them. They played Beethoven's Spring Sonata. Lovely, like a gentle stream with a few waterfalls.
I thought of Philippa all...
The lights dimmed. The conversation died.
Applause rippled through the old auditorium and a man and woman stepped out of a green room, onto the stage. A well-known violinist and piano accompanist, although I'd never heard of them. They played Beethoven's Spring Sonata. Lovely, like a gentle stream with a few waterfalls.
I thought of Philippa all...
#love
#music
#mystery
31 reads
8 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
23rd Jun 2021 10:19pm
23rd Jun 2021 10:19pm
Homeless, The First Time (Part 5)
Not again, I thought. But I had only two choices. Check in at reception and fill out the necessary forms, or sleep rough.
I arrived from Wales on the Saturday afternoon. By the Monday, I was drinking a bottle of cinzano on the Cathedral Green, not really caring who saw. The sweet intoxicating liquid offered some relief, though only temporarily, and when I woke in the morning, I knew I couldn't go on in this way.
Having no idea of how to rejoin normal society, I prayed quietly, pleading with God for a place of my own. Later, I spoke to a Baptist minister whom I'd known...
I arrived from Wales on the Saturday afternoon. By the Monday, I was drinking a bottle of cinzano on the Cathedral Green, not really caring who saw. The sweet intoxicating liquid offered some relief, though only temporarily, and when I woke in the morning, I knew I couldn't go on in this way.
Having no idea of how to rejoin normal society, I prayed quietly, pleading with God for a place of my own. Later, I spoke to a Baptist minister whom I'd known...
#religion
#music
#alcohol #homelessness
#alcohol #homelessness
43 reads
12 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
20th Jun 2021 9:27pm
20th Jun 2021 9:27pm
Homeless, The First Time (Part 4)
The short time I spent in Llanfairfechan allowed me to gain a measure of stability and to contemplate on the direction my life had taken: the musical aspirations that I still felt passionate about, the aimless drifting through Devon and London, the solitary drinking, the fears and anxieties.
After staying in dormitories, sleeping on kitchen floors and sharing a room with international students, I finally got to wake up in a normal bed on my first morning in Wales. In the corner of the room stood the piano that had assisted me through most of my teen years, looking well and...
After staying in dormitories, sleeping on kitchen floors and sharing a room with international students, I finally got to wake up in a normal bed on my first morning in Wales. In the corner of the room stood the piano that had assisted me through most of my teen years, looking well and...
#alcohol
#homelessness
#memories #PTSD
#memories #PTSD
37 reads
6 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
18th Jun 2021 10:49pm
18th Jun 2021 10:49pm
Homeless, The First Time (Part 3)
Okay,' one of my relatives said when I finished explaining. 'There's a student hostel in Kensington. Get a taxi over and we'll meet you there.'
That night, I travelled by taxi to the student hostel in Kensington, but I didn't there stay for long. I had no way of paying the rent. I found Kensington a lonely place to be.
I attempted to get a job selling paintings on the south side of London, but when I arrived at headquarters to start work, the firm didn't have my details and refused to hire me. Given the long list of phobias, I don't really see how the job could have...
That night, I travelled by taxi to the student hostel in Kensington, but I didn't there stay for long. I had no way of paying the rent. I found Kensington a lonely place to be.
I attempted to get a job selling paintings on the south side of London, but when I arrived at headquarters to start work, the firm didn't have my details and refused to hire me. Given the long list of phobias, I don't really see how the job could have...
#anxiety
#homelessness
#PTSD #fear
#PTSD #fear
39 reads
13 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
15th Jun 2021 00:06am
15th Jun 2021 00:06am
Homeless, The First Time (Part 2)
Have you the price of a can of lager?' the owner of the flat asked me in the morning. I didn't like parting with my money, what little of it was left, but I had no choice. Give him the money for the beer, or return to the Pound.
It didn't take long for me to discover that almost every person who came to the flat had problems with drink or drugs. And the drinking wasn't just heavy drinking, but breakfast drinking as well. The people would begin the days with swigs from a can of strong lager or a bottle of spirits. I liked to drink too but never in the mornings. Still, I drank...
It didn't take long for me to discover that almost every person who came to the flat had problems with drink or drugs. And the drinking wasn't just heavy drinking, but breakfast drinking as well. The people would begin the days with swigs from a can of strong lager or a bottle of spirits. I liked to drink too but never in the mornings. Still, I drank...
#homelessness
#MentalHealth
#risk
36 reads
10 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
11th Jun 2021 10:58pm
11th Jun 2021 10:58pm
Homeless, The First Time
I arrived in London a few hours later and began to panic, overwhelmed by the crowds and the noise. A siren wailed nearby and a police vehicle pulled to a halt. I felt truly lost, mesmerised by the speed of the city and the officers attending to an incident on the opposite corner of the street.
My first attempt at living in London lasted just seven weeks. Within days, the tentative arrangement I'd made fell through and I found myself homeless, on the way to a shelter for homeless people, not what I'd hoped for. By now, the cacophony of grim neighbourhoods had begun to drain me,...
My first attempt at living in London lasted just seven weeks. Within days, the tentative arrangement I'd made fell through and I found myself homeless, on the way to a shelter for homeless people, not what I'd hoped for. By now, the cacophony of grim neighbourhoods had begun to drain me,...
#anxiety
#homelessness
#poverty
39 reads
11 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
31st May 2021 9:48pm
31st May 2021 9:48pm
Spring Scenery
Sand, water, salt and sky
Blue oceanic laughter
The ice cream van
Bleating seagulls
Clusters of rocks
The solitary garden at the foot of the cliff
Church bells ring
Chimes from far away
Fanfares, near whispers
A choir of angels
Sounds carrying over the water
Through fields
As the sun sets
Painting the sky magenta
Blue oceanic laughter
The ice cream van
Bleating seagulls
Clusters of rocks
The solitary garden at the foot of the cliff
Church bells ring
Chimes from far away
Fanfares, near whispers
A choir of angels
Sounds carrying over the water
Through fields
As the sun sets
Painting the sky magenta
#sea
#nature
#peace #meditation
#peace #meditation
51 reads
6 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
21st May 2021 8:28pm
21st May 2021 8:28pm
Memories That Persist (True Life)
Further discussion must have taken place, for the headmaster decided to send me to a Special School for the Educationally Subnormal, Ten Acres, in Newton Heath. Educationally Subnormal, strong words. I think they even tried to hit me with Learning Difficulties.
Of course, labels like these have the potential to spell out all sorts of problems - for example, the distinct possibility of a lifetime of struggle, in particular of low attainment in schooling and of little to look forward to in terms of employment, along with the possibility of an child-turned adult not coping...
Of course, labels like these have the potential to spell out all sorts of problems - for example, the distinct possibility of a lifetime of struggle, in particular of low attainment in schooling and of little to look forward to in terms of employment, along with the possibility of an child-turned adult not coping...
#music
#memories
#LifeGoals #PTSD
#LifeGoals #PTSD
55 reads
9 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th May 2021 00:54am
11th May 2021 00:54am
The Gate
The gate stands by a field that leads down the slope to a river.
The gate opens with a creak, its wood rough after years of use.
From the gate, one can see the water, smooth, almost silent,
A steady stream that is always there,
A faithful friend, like the creaking gate.
The gate opens with a creak, its wood rough after years of use.
From the gate, one can see the water, smooth, almost silent,
A steady stream that is always there,
A faithful friend, like the creaking gate.
#silence
#nature
#peace
61 reads
8 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
5th May 2021 6:12pm
5th May 2021 6:12pm
A Near Death Experience?
I get up and leave, shivering outside as I walk across the hospital front in the freezing rain, the northern winds biting at my fingers and face, the downpour reaching deep into my trainers and socks. It's nearly half four in the afternoon, and already almost dark, more like late autumn or early winter.
An ambulance rushes into the front area of the hospital, lights flashing, and pulls to a halt by the entrance. For a while, I stand watching in a type of daze, remembering another time when an ambulance pulled up in the clearing at the bottom of Whaley Hill to take me to hospital...
An ambulance rushes into the front area of the hospital, lights flashing, and pulls to a halt by the entrance. For a while, I stand watching in a type of daze, remembering another time when an ambulance pulled up in the clearing at the bottom of Whaley Hill to take me to hospital...
#death
#spiritual
#memories #mystery
#memories #mystery
65 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lozzamus
