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
2nd Mar 2019 8:00pm
2nd Mar 2019 8:00pm
The Piano Player
The pianist lifts his arms,
His hands come crashing down.
The bass notes growl, an ominous crescendo,
Warning of civil unrest and tension,
And of a Europe about to go to war.
The audience watches,
Hoping, praying that war will not come.
The pianist pauses, a brief silence that pulsates with uncertainty.
He lifts his wrists again, resuming the menacing trill in the bass,
His fingers working furiously as the growl grows in volume
And the temperature rises in the auditorium.
...
His hands come crashing down.
The bass notes growl, an ominous crescendo,
Warning of civil unrest and tension,
And of a Europe about to go to war.
The audience watches,
Hoping, praying that war will not come.
The pianist pauses, a brief silence that pulsates with uncertainty.
He lifts his wrists again, resuming the menacing trill in the bass,
His fingers working furiously as the growl grows in volume
And the temperature rises in the auditorium.
...
#sadness
#war
#music
514 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Mar 2019 8:50pm
1st Mar 2019 8:50pm
Grief And The Seasons
The cemetery stands silent, the flowers still, the solitary mourners perched by gravestones, alone in their grief.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
The seasons pass.
Each day, new mourners visit to place flowers on the graves of loved ones.
The time passes slowly at first, then quickly.
A year. Five years. Half a century. A century.
A century from now, a new generation of mourners will come.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
The seasons pass.
Each day, new mourners visit to place flowers on the graves of loved ones.
The time passes slowly at first, then quickly.
A year. Five years. Half a century. A century.
A century from now, a new generation of mourners will come.
#grief
#death
#graveyard
435 reads
0 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
27th Feb 2019 8:37pm
27th Feb 2019 8:37pm
Mistaken Nostalgia
Leaves have begun to change colour and the air smells of fresh rain.
I spot sheep grazing in the distance in clusters of twos and threes.
Out of nowhere comes a memory of a radio programme I heard as a child and I think of folk rambling in the countryside with flapping cagoules and chipped flasks of milky tea, braving the rain and the wind and the hills before stopping for their sandwich lunches on the trail, the voices on the radio singing in unison, the people content as they sing these simple songs.
The signpost for the town appears, and the brief surge of...
I spot sheep grazing in the distance in clusters of twos and threes.
Out of nowhere comes a memory of a radio programme I heard as a child and I think of folk rambling in the countryside with flapping cagoules and chipped flasks of milky tea, braving the rain and the wind and the hills before stopping for their sandwich lunches on the trail, the voices on the radio singing in unison, the people content as they sing these simple songs.
The signpost for the town appears, and the brief surge of...
#nostalgia
#Britain
#poverty
436 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
26th Feb 2019 10:02pm
26th Feb 2019 10:02pm
Water, A Paradox
Water, pure but refreshing,
Simple but lifesaving.
Water tastes of nothing,
Yet has a unique taste of its own.
Water costs nothing,
Yet remains out of reach to many.
Water, the plainest drink of all,
Yet the most satisfying.
Water.
Simple but lifesaving.
Water tastes of nothing,
Yet has a unique taste of its own.
Water costs nothing,
Yet remains out of reach to many.
Water, the plainest drink of all,
Yet the most satisfying.
Water.
#water
486 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Feb 2019 11:26pm
25th Feb 2019 11:26pm
A March In Snow
The people march,
A great crowd clothed in tatters.
They march hour after hour,
Across barren ice lands,
And past corpses and carcasses,
Famished and frozen as night falls,
And the march shows no signs of ending.
Many stumble, never to get up again.
They lie in the snow, forgotten,
Dying under the night sky
As Europe destroys itself with war,
And nations weep and mourn for their sons.
A great crowd clothed in tatters.
They march hour after hour,
Across barren ice lands,
And past corpses and carcasses,
Famished and frozen as night falls,
And the march shows no signs of ending.
Many stumble, never to get up again.
They lie in the snow, forgotten,
Dying under the night sky
As Europe destroys itself with war,
And nations weep and mourn for their sons.
#war
473 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
24th Feb 2019 9:49pm
24th Feb 2019 9:49pm
Insomnia
The long night, one of many.
A person glances at a clock radio.
They are neither asleep nor awake.
They lie there, uncomfortable, restless.
Their mind races away, teasing them with scenarios of ruin.
The seconds tick by, slowly.
The person longs for sleep,
Or for dawn, for a new day.
An hour later, they remain awake,
Unable to relax, but unable to think properly.
A person glances at a clock radio.
They are neither asleep nor awake.
They lie there, uncomfortable, restless.
Their mind races away, teasing them with scenarios of ruin.
The seconds tick by, slowly.
The person longs for sleep,
Or for dawn, for a new day.
An hour later, they remain awake,
Unable to relax, but unable to think properly.
#anxiety
#night
#insomnia
409 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
23rd Feb 2019 8:34pm
23rd Feb 2019 8:34pm
That Other Summer (2)
He stands by a loose turf of grass, gazing down at the shore, watching her sprint to the sea and dig her toes into the waves.
Laughing, she swims out towards a boat in the distance and plunges deep into the water.
She comes up drenched, and turns to face the cliff, her tangled hair covering her face, like seaweed.
She pushes her hair from her eyes and continues to stare.
He waves twice. She waves again and starts to swim back to shore.
And then, he climbs down the winding cliff path, to meet her on the sand.
Laughing, she swims out towards a boat in the distance and plunges deep into the water.
She comes up drenched, and turns to face the cliff, her tangled hair covering her face, like seaweed.
She pushes her hair from her eyes and continues to stare.
He waves twice. She waves again and starts to swim back to shore.
And then, he climbs down the winding cliff path, to meet her on the sand.
#summer
#lover
#memories
520 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Feb 2019 10:15pm
22nd Feb 2019 10:15pm
That Other Summer
The other summer long ago
The dancing waves filling the bay with music
The clouds sailing through the sky, white and clear, pushed along by a soft wind.
She’d stood in front of him on the shore, her face close to his, almost touching his, her wild raven hair smelling of the sea.
Now, the shore is deserted and seagulls circle the tops of cliffs, bleating, like they’d done that other summer.
The dancing waves filling the bay with music
The clouds sailing through the sky, white and clear, pushed along by a soft wind.
She’d stood in front of him on the shore, her face close to his, almost touching his, her wild raven hair smelling of the sea.
Now, the shore is deserted and seagulls circle the tops of cliffs, bleating, like they’d done that other summer.
#sea
#summer
#memories
484 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Feb 2019 11:01pm
21st Feb 2019 11:01pm
Sunrise Mist
The sunlight falls like a mist
An ancient waterfall among trees
A chilly morning with a hint of sun
An early dawn horizon.
The garden stands still
Winter
The leaves have vanished
Leaving branches empty
Skeletal reminders of a distant summer
An ancient waterfall among trees
A chilly morning with a hint of sun
An early dawn horizon.
The garden stands still
Winter
The leaves have vanished
Leaving branches empty
Skeletal reminders of a distant summer
#beauty
#sun
#winter #morning
#winter #morning
563 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Feb 2019 8:48pm
20th Feb 2019 8:48pm
The Unseen Violinist
The unseen violinist plays late at night
Long drawn out tones that tremble with emotion
A haunting Czardas set in harmonic minor
Flattened Sixths that speak of other worlds
Of longing and beauty and despair.
The tempo quickens, the mood switches
The violinist’s bow dances across the strings
Like a wagon speeding across a country path
The sounds of the wheels echoing as the night sky watches.
The violinist plays with ease
A lively dance.
Long drawn out tones that tremble with emotion
A haunting Czardas set in harmonic minor
Flattened Sixths that speak of other worlds
Of longing and beauty and despair.
The tempo quickens, the mood switches
The violinist’s bow dances across the strings
Like a wagon speeding across a country path
The sounds of the wheels echoing as the night sky watches.
The violinist plays with ease
A lively dance.
#music
#dance
601 reads
9 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Feb 2019 7:25pm
19th Feb 2019 7:25pm
The Beach At Night
The sand rolls ahead, a rippling carpet,
Smooth and pure under the glow of the moon.
The temperature drops, the breeze icy but refreshing,
Blending with the scent of the sand.
The moon reflects on the water, painting the horizon silver.
Mystery.
All around there is silence,
Deep and static, like the sea.
Smooth and pure under the glow of the moon.
The temperature drops, the breeze icy but refreshing,
Blending with the scent of the sand.
The moon reflects on the water, painting the horizon silver.
Mystery.
All around there is silence,
Deep and static, like the sea.
#beach
#moon
#night #silence
#night #silence
569 reads
16 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
19th Feb 2019 00:49am
19th Feb 2019 00:49am
Lost In An Anxiety Dream
The dream,
An early morning awakening.
Past and present merge.
I’m in an unfamiliar place,
Staring at a concrete intersection,
Searching for known landmarks,
Trying to establish which way to go.
Each road leads to confusion.
Isolation.
Echoes of childhood have vanished for ever,
The familiar buildings replaced by office blocks,
And I stand alone by the crossroads, lost and without purpose.
An early morning awakening.
Past and present merge.
I’m in an unfamiliar place,
Staring at a concrete intersection,
Searching for known landmarks,
Trying to establish which way to go.
Each road leads to confusion.
Isolation.
Echoes of childhood have vanished for ever,
The familiar buildings replaced by office blocks,
And I stand alone by the crossroads, lost and without purpose.
#anxiety
#childhood
#dreams
483 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lozzamus
