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
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
391 reads
8 Comments
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
504 reads
4 Comments
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
340 reads
5 Comments
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
357 reads
10 Comments
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
392 reads
8 Comments
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
299 reads
8 Comments
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
369 reads
6 Comments
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
292 reads
9 Comments
All In Her Mind?
She made a cup of hot orange and went up to the study to look at her emails. When she opened the door, she nearly dropped the drink
The screensaver danced across the monitor.
She hadn't used the computer today.
She hurried through the flat, checking the windows and locks. Outside, she glanced around, shivering from the cold. There was nothing suspicious, no indication of a break in. She must have logged on early this morning and forgotten.
She went in and put the chain on the lock.
Back in the study, her emails flashed up on the...
The screensaver danced across the monitor.
She hadn't used the computer today.
She hurried through the flat, checking the windows and locks. Outside, she glanced around, shivering from the cold. There was nothing suspicious, no indication of a break in. She must have logged on early this morning and forgotten.
She went in and put the chain on the lock.
Back in the study, her emails flashed up on the...
#memories
#mystery
#risk
305 reads
6 Comments
Dead End Town
I nip out to smoke a fag by the railings, hugging myself for warmth against blustery winds. The promenade's empty today, apart from the odd person hurrying towards the pub and shops. The sea's dull and unsettled, the sand tangled with seaweed and broken shells. Dirty clouds sail across the sky, reminding me of sheep's wool and nursery rhymes.
I'm halfway down my cigarette when a tallish guy with a hint of Mediterranean approaches in a black nylon jacket and woolly hat, carrying a sports bag over his right shoulder.
'Oi,' he calls.
It's Zipper.
...
I'm halfway down my cigarette when a tallish guy with a hint of Mediterranean approaches in a black nylon jacket and woolly hat, carrying a sports bag over his right shoulder.
'Oi,' he calls.
It's Zipper.
...
#loneliness
#friendship
#poverty
290 reads
14 Comments
The River
the breeze whispers along a river bank
I reach a bench coated with scatterings of mud
the mud is dry and warm now, the air rich with grass
sitting down, I let the mud slip through my fingers, a fine dust
further along a bird stands on one leg, watching
the bird flies off, leaving no traces of its presence
getting up, I walk up the path, back to the road
I reach a bench coated with scatterings of mud
the mud is dry and warm now, the air rich with grass
sitting down, I let the mud slip through my fingers, a fine dust
further along a bird stands on one leg, watching
the bird flies off, leaving no traces of its presence
getting up, I walk up the path, back to the road
#nature
#peace
#meditation
370 reads
10 Comments
First Night In A New Place
It is quiet, far too quiet for me. The static stillness of the country gives the impression of time slowing down. I find a beer in the fridge, sit on the sofa bed and drink. I don't want to go to sleep. Sleep frightens me. My recovery from the attack took several years. Surgery. Knee problems from the impact of the bar. Headaches, double vision. I had to surrender my driving licence for a while, and I never played rugby or soccer again.
I slip in to an old jumper and a pair of boxer shorts, and climb into bed, but for much of the night I remain awake, reading but struggling to...
I slip in to an old jumper and a pair of boxer shorts, and climb into bed, but for much of the night I remain awake, reading but struggling to...
#memories
#mystery
#PTSD #suffering
#PTSD #suffering
451 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lozzamus