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
Exhausted - Third Jab
Despite struggling with a marked needle phobia, I went for the Booster Jab yesterday, primarily due to a history of pneumonia and asthma. I took a mild sedative prescribed by the GP. A friend accompanied me to the vaccination centre and we went for lunch afterwards.
I felt a bit unwell today and dozed throughout the afternoon and evening, having some pretty crazy dreams. Plus, my arm is sore.
I felt and feel a strong sense of gratitude towards the staff at the centre. While I was there, someone got angry over the mandatory instruction to remain on the premises for 15...
I felt a bit unwell today and dozed throughout the afternoon and evening, having some pretty crazy dreams. Plus, my arm is sore.
I felt and feel a strong sense of gratitude towards the staff at the centre. While I was there, someone got angry over the mandatory instruction to remain on the premises for 15...
#science
#fear
#pandemic
257 reads
2 Comments
Another Power cut
It happened again this afternoon. I’d made a late lunch. I’d just finished a language lesson. I was trying to send an email but the wireless connection failed. Even more telling, I could hear a neighbour’s alarm, like before when a local power cut had occurred.
The same panic struck me. The fear of starving and of getting abandoned in the dark and the late autumn chill. Visions of hunger.
Plus, anger.
I hurried out, hoping to get a warm sandwich, but the electricity in the local bakery had failed – so I ordered vegan chocolate cake and coffee but then...
The same panic struck me. The fear of starving and of getting abandoned in the dark and the late autumn chill. Visions of hunger.
Plus, anger.
I hurried out, hoping to get a warm sandwich, but the electricity in the local bakery had failed – so I ordered vegan chocolate cake and coffee but then...
#anxiety
#fall
#vulnerability
515 reads
11 Comments
Deja Vu?
A few weeks later, I arrived at the pier, having spent hours jumping on and off buses, tubes and trains. My shoulders and neck were stiff and sore from lugging two heavy bags around, and I wasn't in the best of the moods. Take the town, for instance. Strong smell. Humid, sticky weather. Grey: sand, skies, metal monstrosity holding up the pier. Seagulls.
But it wasn't just the surroundings. As soon as I stepped off the bus, I got a sense that I'd visited the town before, even though I knew I hadn't. Everything seemed familiar. Each turning I took. The buildings. The layout of the...
But it wasn't just the surroundings. As soon as I stepped off the bus, I got a sense that I'd visited the town before, even though I knew I hadn't. Everything seemed familiar. Each turning I took. The buildings. The layout of the...
#mystery
#risk
326 reads
6 Comments
City Streets, London - Before Covid
An autumn day
crisp but sunny
crowds stand at traffic lights
tourists amble, pausing to take photographs
buildings tower over busy roads
making them look like avenues
England’s capital
ageless
another day
crisp but sunny
crowds stand at traffic lights
tourists amble, pausing to take photographs
buildings tower over busy roads
making them look like avenues
England’s capital
ageless
another day
#city
#memories
221 reads
2 Comments
Dreams Of The Past
Drifting away into a mishmash of dreams:
meadows and orchards
abandoned farmhouses
chickens feeding on sawdust and maize by wired fencing
an August heatwave
petrol cans and parched grass
an old wooden barn in the centre of a field.
Then he is fifteen again
standing on top of the mound by the railway line during another heatwave
watching as one of the local boys stumbles, falling to the bottom of the slope
into the path of an speeding train.
meadows and orchards
abandoned farmhouses
chickens feeding on sawdust and maize by wired fencing
an August heatwave
petrol cans and parched grass
an old wooden barn in the centre of a field.
Then he is fifteen again
standing on top of the mound by the railway line during another heatwave
watching as one of the local boys stumbles, falling to the bottom of the slope
into the path of an speeding train.
#regret
#childhood
#memories
305 reads
12 Comments
Searching For Cassie
He called Cassie from the van, but she was refusing to answer his calls. He followed the late afternoon traffic up the Edgware Road and considered what to do about Cassie and her constant mischief making.
He came to a set of red lights by a chemist's. The lights were warning him about Cassie, saying she was dangerous, that she was one of the people who had sent him to the House where he had first met the Bone Man. The Rag and Bone man, dirty and unshaven, climbing up the rickety staircase to play Hide and Seek.
The bells are ringing,
St Hilda has died, ...
He came to a set of red lights by a chemist's. The lights were warning him about Cassie, saying she was dangerous, that she was one of the people who had sent him to the House where he had first met the Bone Man. The Rag and Bone man, dirty and unshaven, climbing up the rickety staircase to play Hide and Seek.
The bells are ringing,
St Hilda has died, ...
#mystery
#obsession
#risk
307 reads
4 Comments
Underground
Got to get out of here!
Can't stand the dark and the damp and the dust.
Claustrophobia; the imagination offering countless possibilities. The ceiling caving in, burying me. If the floor gave way as well, I would fall into blackness, panting and suffocating, knowing that I'd never escape. Certain death.
Buried alive. Like in the famous Rachmaninoff Prelude. Pounding chords as the man attempts to fight his way out of a grave.
Help!
Can't stand the dark and the damp and the dust.
Claustrophobia; the imagination offering countless possibilities. The ceiling caving in, burying me. If the floor gave way as well, I would fall into blackness, panting and suffocating, knowing that I'd never escape. Certain death.
Buried alive. Like in the famous Rachmaninoff Prelude. Pounding chords as the man attempts to fight his way out of a grave.
Help!
#mystery
#FeelingTrapped
#risk
398 reads
12 Comments
Tormented And Restless
All nights are bad, though some worse than others.
I can’t sleep.
The seconds and minutes pass in silence.
I long for winter.
For the damp and cold and rain and wind.
Snow and sleet and frost.
The summer heat is suffocating, reminding me of that other summer twenty years ago.
Tonight, I see them;
not only Dawn, but her sister as well, both fair skinned like their mother, hair the colour of hay.
The girls hurry along the lane above the coast, sandals scraping on tarmac in the July heat.
Ahead of them lies the sea, the tide out, water...
I can’t sleep.
The seconds and minutes pass in silence.
I long for winter.
For the damp and cold and rain and wind.
Snow and sleet and frost.
The summer heat is suffocating, reminding me of that other summer twenty years ago.
Tonight, I see them;
not only Dawn, but her sister as well, both fair skinned like their mother, hair the colour of hay.
The girls hurry along the lane above the coast, sandals scraping on tarmac in the July heat.
Ahead of them lies the sea, the tide out, water...
#grief
#memories
#mystery
343 reads
6 Comments
A Very Dangerous Man
Alone in a house a man lay bound in ropes, hidden by the night. Not even the moon shone into the cellar, for the small window was boarded up. The man never saw the sun or the stars. He heard no voices, no laughter.
In the cellar a light bulb hung from the ceiling. I stood over the man, observing him gurgle, watching the blood dribble from his nose and stain his gag. The man's name was Damien.
They think I don't see, but I do. I see everything. I see them snivelling and running. I see them laughing. They are laughing at me, their voices piercing and hideous. I...
In the cellar a light bulb hung from the ceiling. I stood over the man, observing him gurgle, watching the blood dribble from his nose and stain his gag. The man's name was Damien.
They think I don't see, but I do. I see everything. I see them snivelling and running. I see them laughing. They are laughing at me, their voices piercing and hideous. I...
#scary
#mystery
#risk
354 reads
9 Comments
A Picture Of Pathos
At around this time I learnt Beethoven's piano sonata, The Pathetique.
The dramatic opening reminded me of the opening in my novel Secrets.
The protagonist making his way up Whaley Hill in Lancashire in the November chill and fog in search of the man he'd helped put behind bars sixteen years earlier.
The angry, almost violent, chords that answer the pathos of the melody in the Pathetique.
The build up of rain, the promise of a storm on Whaley Hill.
The continuing intensity of emotion in the Pathetique as lyrical despair alternates with irate harmonies and...
The dramatic opening reminded me of the opening in my novel Secrets.
The protagonist making his way up Whaley Hill in Lancashire in the November chill and fog in search of the man he'd helped put behind bars sixteen years earlier.
The angry, almost violent, chords that answer the pathos of the melody in the Pathetique.
The build up of rain, the promise of a storm on Whaley Hill.
The continuing intensity of emotion in the Pathetique as lyrical despair alternates with irate harmonies and...
#memories
#mystery
#risk
379 reads
6 Comments
Escaping The Factory
How will we manage in Spain if you get sick? '
'I won't get sick. It's her persecuting me. Her. And you.'
Shush, he's wearing a dark gown. He has a kitchen knife in his hands. He wants to kill you.
He laughed, unable to stop. She believed him. Believed they were going to Spain in two week's time. Believed they were going to live in a villa belonging to his late aunt. Silly. Gullible. The aunt had never existed.
'Don't do that,' Cassie said. 'You're frightening me.'
'Shut up. Shut UP!'
Cassie was sick. Indeed, all of...
'I won't get sick. It's her persecuting me. Her. And you.'
Shush, he's wearing a dark gown. He has a kitchen knife in his hands. He wants to kill you.
He laughed, unable to stop. She believed him. Believed they were going to Spain in two week's time. Believed they were going to live in a villa belonging to his late aunt. Silly. Gullible. The aunt had never existed.
'Don't do that,' Cassie said. 'You're frightening me.'
'Shut up. Shut UP!'
Cassie was sick. Indeed, all of...
#mystery
#risk
266 reads
10 Comments
Modern Day Woes
winter, spring, summer, autumn
one day slips into the next
the future uncertain
dreams troubled
an era of technology
time passes almost unnoticed
agitation, unrest, disaster
the world is full of fear
promises broken
a planet out of control
the pandemic halted -
but for how long?
one day slips into the next
the future uncertain
dreams troubled
an era of technology
time passes almost unnoticed
agitation, unrest, disaster
the world is full of fear
promises broken
a planet out of control
the pandemic halted -
but for how long?
#anxiety
#LifeStruggles
#pandemic
374 reads
14 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lozzamus