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
Trapped! the final crisis ( 800 words)
You wake up late on Tuesday morning, groggy and disorientated. For a long time, you remain on the sofa bed, still and silent as you catch your thoughts and weigh up the situation.
‘What happened yesterday?’ you say, finally.
‘Yesterday?’ The gorgeous woman says. ‘I didn’t know you were awake.’ As usual, she’s sitting at the table, smiling as she texts away. ‘Are you feeling better? A bit sleepy, I expect. Those painkillers are potent, aren’t they?’
‘Which painkillers?’
‘The tablets you were prescribed by the doctor. Don’t you remember?’
‘When did I see a...
‘What happened yesterday?’ you say, finally.
‘Yesterday?’ The gorgeous woman says. ‘I didn’t know you were awake.’ As usual, she’s sitting at the table, smiling as she texts away. ‘Are you feeling better? A bit sleepy, I expect. Those painkillers are potent, aren’t they?’
‘Which painkillers?’
‘The tablets you were prescribed by the doctor. Don’t you remember?’
‘When did I see a...
#mystery
#risk
327 reads
4 Comments
Trapped! part 4 (750 words)
You come to late on Monday morning with a vice-like headache and a metallic taste in your mouth. The gorgeous woman’s sitting at your table, smiling as she texts on her phone.
‘You’re awake,’ she says.
‘Yeah,’ you mutter.
‘You don’t look well at all. We might have to consider finding a walk-in clinic if there’s no improvement by tomorrow. I’ll need to do a bit of legal research, though. It could be that we don’t have to disclose the reason for the blow to the head if you are not presenting as an emergency.’
That’s when memories of yesterday trickle back. The party...
‘You’re awake,’ she says.
‘Yeah,’ you mutter.
‘You don’t look well at all. We might have to consider finding a walk-in clinic if there’s no improvement by tomorrow. I’ll need to do a bit of legal research, though. It could be that we don’t have to disclose the reason for the blow to the head if you are not presenting as an emergency.’
That’s when memories of yesterday trickle back. The party...
#mystery
#risk
317 reads
4 Comments
Trapped! part 3 (730 words)
The numbness begins to wear off. A man is dead, a man you met for the first time at a mate’s party last night. What should you do about it? Is it possible to brush it aside and move on with your life? After all, that bloke could have killed you.
The gorgeous woman makes herself a sandwich and texts a friend. She’s advised you not to visit any news or social media websites connected with the crime in case investigating officers detect an unhealthy interest in the matter and decide to talk to you at a later stage.
But you want to find out more about the fight and what happened...
The gorgeous woman makes herself a sandwich and texts a friend. She’s advised you not to visit any news or social media websites connected with the crime in case investigating officers detect an unhealthy interest in the matter and decide to talk to you at a later stage.
But you want to find out more about the fight and what happened...
#mystery
#risk
295 reads
5 Comments
Trapped! part 2 (750 words)
You fall asleep again and dream of shouting and shattering glass and a police helicopter circling the area, getting closer. And you dream about the bloke at the party. The one with the long tangled grey hair and earrings. Just before you crashed out, the gorgeous woman gave you a description of the man you fought in the early hours of the morning and the description matches your memories of the bloke that provoked the guests at Simon’s party. So he must have taken the same Night Bus as you and noticed you as you got off, provoking you into a fight further down the street.
The woman’s...
The woman’s...
#anxiety
#mystery
#risk
280 reads
2 Comments
Trapped! part 1 (800 words)
You’re at a party. A bloke turns up drunk. He starts provoking the guests and narrowly escapes getting a smack in the gob from some girl’s brother. Your mate Simon eventually throws him out, but the bloke returns an hour later.
You’ve just finished chatting with someone and you think about making a move home. Although tomorrow’s Sunday, meaning no work, you don’t like parties once they get busy.
The bloke catches your eye. ‘Harry, right?’
Best to ignore him. He’s a pretty weird looking bloke with long tangled hair and strident earrings that jar.
‘One of my friends had...
You’ve just finished chatting with someone and you think about making a move home. Although tomorrow’s Sunday, meaning no work, you don’t like parties once they get busy.
The bloke catches your eye. ‘Harry, right?’
Best to ignore him. He’s a pretty weird looking bloke with long tangled hair and strident earrings that jar.
‘One of my friends had...
#mystery
#risk
325 reads
7 Comments
Tragedy
They say I muttered two words when I got back to the estate car park on the Bank Holiday Monday: a name.
I’d arrived without my most prized possession: my bike. You hadn’t returned at all.
And I’d lied, hadn’t I? Told your mum we were going to the local park but sneaked off to Whaley Hill with you. Everyone was worried because they knew I wouldn’t have left my bike or abandoned you.
They say your mum became hysterical, especially when she realised I’d lied. Neighbours drove to Whaley Hill, but friends prevented your mum from going. It’s a good job they did. ...
I’d arrived without my most prized possession: my bike. You hadn’t returned at all.
And I’d lied, hadn’t I? Told your mum we were going to the local park but sneaked off to Whaley Hill with you. Everyone was worried because they knew I wouldn’t have left my bike or abandoned you.
They say your mum became hysterical, especially when she realised I’d lied. Neighbours drove to Whaley Hill, but friends prevented your mum from going. It’s a good job they did. ...
#sadness
#mystery
351 reads
8 Comments
A Shelter In The Heat
raging emotions overwhelm you
anger, grief, fear and despair
memories of past lovers and friends
the summer heat beats down on you
dry and unrelenting
along with tormenting thirst
too much nose, too many people
little Social Distancing
no place to hide
you spy a little garden just yards ahead
a secluded rockery circled by trees
an old water fountain
an empty bench with broken twigs
solace from the churning turmoil and heat
anger, grief, fear and despair
memories of past lovers and friends
the summer heat beats down on you
dry and unrelenting
along with tormenting thirst
too much nose, too many people
little Social Distancing
no place to hide
you spy a little garden just yards ahead
a secluded rockery circled by trees
an old water fountain
an empty bench with broken twigs
solace from the churning turmoil and heat
#hope
#death
#despair #pandemic
#despair #pandemic
363 reads
11 Comments
Panic Attack On The Underground
She rang off. Dazed, she took the escalator down and found the platform teeming with people. The train came. She got on. The carriage was filling up.
There’s something your stinking rich rellies haven’t told you. The wrong man went to prison.
The carriage doors shut.
While granddaddy spoilt you and pampered to your every demand, an innocent man did time for a crime your father had committed. And granddaddy knew.
The train started to move.
Not very nice, covering up a murder and letting someone else take the blame.
Another stop....
There’s something your stinking rich rellies haven’t told you. The wrong man went to prison.
The carriage doors shut.
While granddaddy spoilt you and pampered to your every demand, an innocent man did time for a crime your father had committed. And granddaddy knew.
The train started to move.
Not very nice, covering up a murder and letting someone else take the blame.
Another stop....
#anxiety
#mystery
#risk
337 reads
10 Comments
Burdened With Guilt
The prospect of a clean break.
Not to have to carry this terrible load around anymore.
Not to have to think about that Weekend Away.
The fighting.
The drinking.
The crazy heat that made them all mad.
How everything went wrong and backfired, and an innocent man got sent to prison.
Not to have to carry this terrible load around anymore.
Not to have to think about that Weekend Away.
The fighting.
The drinking.
The crazy heat that made them all mad.
How everything went wrong and backfired, and an innocent man got sent to prison.
#regret
#secrets
#mystery
307 reads
5 Comments
Texting A Mate
Grabbing your phone, you text your mate. Your hands are shaky and you misspell words. You tell him you’re in some sort of trouble and ask him to contact you in a discreet manner. On no account, must he alert the police or come round to the flat. You’re aware that your message sounds crazy. You have no idea how he’ll react.
hey what’s up? he texts back.
You regret sending the text now. But before you can respond, you find yourself slipping into a stupor again, unable to fight the suffocating blackness that swoops down with a vengeance.
Seconds later, you...
hey what’s up? he texts back.
You regret sending the text now. But before you can respond, you find yourself slipping into a stupor again, unable to fight the suffocating blackness that swoops down with a vengeance.
Seconds later, you...
#mystery
#risk
381 reads
4 Comments
Underground And Trapped
Time loses meaning.
Waking, sleeping, dreaming.
Going mad.
There is nothing in this place.
No other people.
No light.
Just thoughts.
Tapping water.
A prison.
Mad, mad, mad.
Imaginary figures form in the murkiness.
Sewer rats.
They loom, getting bigger and bigger.
Rats peering back, changing form.
Oh no!
A man in a balaclava.
Hiding, watching.
A fire.
The fire from years before.
No, not this!
Smoke settling like a fog.
Light glowing. ...
Waking, sleeping, dreaming.
Going mad.
There is nothing in this place.
No other people.
No light.
Just thoughts.
Tapping water.
A prison.
Mad, mad, mad.
Imaginary figures form in the murkiness.
Sewer rats.
They loom, getting bigger and bigger.
Rats peering back, changing form.
Oh no!
A man in a balaclava.
Hiding, watching.
A fire.
The fire from years before.
No, not this!
Smoke settling like a fog.
Light glowing. ...
#mystery
#risk
#fear
281 reads
5 Comments
In Trouble
Gordon leaves with Ollie. I go back in with Barry, and that's the last I remember.
I wake up not in the hospital, but in a concrete hut somewhere deep in abandoned wasteland, groggy and disorientated with a strange taste in my mouth, body sore from the fall downstairs. I'm lying on the floor in recovery position, wondering how I got there. Outside, the weather continues to rage, the winds howling against the roof; inside, three men with torch lamps sit huddled around candles, playing cards and singing The Grand Old Duke Of York. They bang on the floor and stamp their feet...
I wake up not in the hospital, but in a concrete hut somewhere deep in abandoned wasteland, groggy and disorientated with a strange taste in my mouth, body sore from the fall downstairs. I'm lying on the floor in recovery position, wondering how I got there. Outside, the weather continues to rage, the winds howling against the roof; inside, three men with torch lamps sit huddled around candles, playing cards and singing The Grand Old Duke Of York. They bang on the floor and stamp their feet...
#mystery
#risk
276 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lozzamus