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
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
23 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
35 reads
6 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
24th Apr 2021 7:37pm
24th Apr 2021 7:37pm
Lyme House
I take a different route to Lyme House. Across the main coastal road and down a tree-lined lane with a spring breeze and the smell of sun. Another crossing. Past an arty bookstore and a café-restaurant with umbrella-type covering. Bungalows and cottages and a village-like church with a water well. Broken twigs and pebbles and stones. Fields going further inland. This part of the town isn't bad at all, if you can forget the rest of the area.
I reach the private driveway leading down to Lyme House. It's a five or ten minute walk with tall hedges and trees on both sides. Stillness,...
I reach the private driveway leading down to Lyme House. It's a five or ten minute walk with tall hedges and trees on both sides. Stillness,...
#mystery
#risk
34 reads
8 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
13th Apr 2021 9:02pm
13th Apr 2021 9:02pm
Accident On The Motorway
We set off on our holidays in a rusty green van,
moving in the direction of the sun,
past fields and trees and farms,
the country air lifting our spirits.
We’re speeding along the motorway
when the van starts to shudder and horns toot warnings at us.
Something is wrong.
In the back compartment, my brother and I stare at the door,
holding our breaths, waiting, not daring to speak.
The vehicle swerves across the motorway lane,
closer to the hard shoulder,
where an embankment lies below.
Still, nobody...
moving in the direction of the sun,
past fields and trees and farms,
the country air lifting our spirits.
We’re speeding along the motorway
when the van starts to shudder and horns toot warnings at us.
Something is wrong.
In the back compartment, my brother and I stare at the door,
holding our breaths, waiting, not daring to speak.
The vehicle swerves across the motorway lane,
closer to the hard shoulder,
where an embankment lies below.
Still, nobody...
#childhood
#family
#risk
47 reads
4 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
7th Apr 2021 11:30pm
7th Apr 2021 11:30pm
My Grandfather Benjamin
Early one Saturday morning when I was about nine, we set off in the car for Blackpool where my maternal grandparents lived. My mother had a cousin in a neighbouring coastal town and the cousin's son, whom I'd never met, had just turned thirteen and was about to recite his Barmitzvah at the synagogue there.
We took the usual route through Bolton, past the array of TV aerials on Winter Hill, and down the busy Preston Road, arriving in Blackpool about an hour and a half later. My grandparents lived near Stanley Park, a huge park we used to visit a lot.
My grandfather...
We took the usual route through Bolton, past the array of TV aerials on Winter Hill, and down the busy Preston Road, arriving in Blackpool about an hour and a half later. My grandparents lived near Stanley Park, a huge park we used to visit a lot.
My grandfather...
#childhood
#family
#religion #memories
#religion #memories
46 reads
8 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
28th Mar 2021 9:02pm
28th Mar 2021 9:02pm
The Helicopter
Once more, I consider the possibility that Simon might have a wife and kids. Maybe those little kids are up now, crying for their daddy to come home, like I used to cry for mine when I was little. Reaching for my favourite teddy, I hold it to my chest and let my chin rest on its furry head.
Everything's going to be okay, I promise myself. Mum will see what Simon's really like and chuck him out.
I shiver. In the distance, a police helicopter scours the sky. The noise begins like a group of buzzing bees, getting louder as the helicopter moves closer and closer. The...
Everything's going to be okay, I promise myself. Mum will see what Simon's really like and chuck him out.
I shiver. In the distance, a police helicopter scours the sky. The noise begins like a group of buzzing bees, getting louder as the helicopter moves closer and closer. The...
#mystery
#risk
73 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Mar 2021 10:04pm
20th Mar 2021 10:04pm
A Musical Phrase
Language, a babble of musical sounds,
Each distinct and full of meaning.
Words, phrases, carrying a rhythm of their own,
Syllables, melodious and precise.
Each distinct and full of meaning.
Words, phrases, carrying a rhythm of their own,
Syllables, melodious and precise.
#nature
#peace
#meditation #SelfDiscovery
#meditation #SelfDiscovery
51 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th Mar 2021 10:27pm
13th Mar 2021 10:27pm
The Bridge Above The City
The old railway bridge sits halfway up a hill,
No longer a train track, but a nature walk,
Nestled in between houses and shops,
With a garage in the arches below.
From the bridge, one can see the city sights,
The office blocks in the distance,
Hills and marshland further on.
The palace to the left.
The sun sets over the city,
Painting the sky a myriad of colours.
Shades of light that ebb away as evening falls,
Another sunset over the city.
No longer a train track, but a nature walk,
Nestled in between houses and shops,
With a garage in the arches below.
From the bridge, one can see the city sights,
The office blocks in the distance,
Hills and marshland further on.
The palace to the left.
The sun sets over the city,
Painting the sky a myriad of colours.
Shades of light that ebb away as evening falls,
Another sunset over the city.
#city
#night
#meditation
83 reads
10 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
7th Mar 2021 10:05pm
7th Mar 2021 10:05pm
Le Mal de Mer, A Ship At Sea
Chandeliers tilt in the ship’s dining room,
Like tiny jewels and clinking laughter.
The waves push from side to side,
A crescendo of force,
As cold as ice,
The cruel whims of the sea.
People stagger backwards and forwards,
Down corridors, up flights of steps,
Stumbling, feverish.
No one can walk straight.
The passengers grope around in semi darkness,
Hoping and praying not to fall.
Outside, the sky is empty and abandoned,
Save for the wind and rain and the clusters of clouds.
Like tiny jewels and clinking laughter.
The waves push from side to side,
A crescendo of force,
As cold as ice,
The cruel whims of the sea.
People stagger backwards and forwards,
Down corridors, up flights of steps,
Stumbling, feverish.
No one can walk straight.
The passengers grope around in semi darkness,
Hoping and praying not to fall.
Outside, the sky is empty and abandoned,
Save for the wind and rain and the clusters of clouds.
#sea
#storm
68 reads
8 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
2nd Mar 2021 8:27pm
2nd Mar 2021 8:27pm
Trapped In The Dark
Noise in the background. The man in the baseball cap walking along a corridor, his footsteps getting louder. A padlock jangles, clatters on the floor.
Her heart quickens. Starts to race. She'd given up hope of him ever returning, but he's come back to let her go.
She's about to call out to him when she detects a subtle switch in mood. Unspoken hostility sifting through the dark. Anger, red hot like an oven.
Her heart quickens. Starts to race. She'd given up hope of him ever returning, but he's come back to let her go.
She's about to call out to him when she detects a subtle switch in mood. Unspoken hostility sifting through the dark. Anger, red hot like an oven.
#mystery
#obsession
#risk
64 reads
8 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
26th Feb 2021 11:12pm
26th Feb 2021 11:12pm
The Room
An unfamiliar room. He awakes tipsy from the remains of sleep, mouth parched with thirst and the aftertaste of whisky and cigarettes. An open window lets in sticky air. It’s quarter to six in the morning, according to a miniature clock next to the bed.
What happened?
He staggers to the window. Outside, a crescendo of colour streaks the horizon, bathing the sea in a magenta glow. He leans against the wall, willing the dizziness to stop. On the other side of the window, a steep drop tempts him to jump to the ground where huge rocks await, like teeth. As the dizziness...
What happened?
He staggers to the window. Outside, a crescendo of colour streaks the horizon, bathing the sea in a magenta glow. He leans against the wall, willing the dizziness to stop. On the other side of the window, a steep drop tempts him to jump to the ground where huge rocks await, like teeth. As the dizziness...
#confusion
#mystery
#risk
54 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Feb 2021 10:35pm
19th Feb 2021 10:35pm
Icy Rain
The rain. Vapour, splatter.
The temperature drops.
Icy rain.
Snow will come within the week.
A man stands alone at the bus stop, shivering.
Rain bounces off the pavement, splattering his shoes.
He is already late for work.
The rain is raw and lacking in mercy.
The temperature drops.
Icy rain.
Snow will come within the week.
A man stands alone at the bus stop, shivering.
Rain bounces off the pavement, splattering his shoes.
He is already late for work.
The rain is raw and lacking in mercy.
#loneliness
#rain
#boredom
45 reads
9 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lozzamus
