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 Jan 2020 10:28pm
11th Jan 2020 10:28pm
The Lake
the lake lies by a roadside
hidden by hedges and trees
a stretch of country lane
that passes through an English village
Old Money and New
a village with a history one would choose to forget
the lake looks calm on a summer day
the water reflecting rural surroundings
an oasis that invites people to dive in and swim
but no one dares
the village legend remains strong
the myths and the facts
memories of those that have drowned in the lake
the lake
stay away
hidden by hedges and trees
a stretch of country lane
that passes through an English village
Old Money and New
a village with a history one would choose to forget
the lake looks calm on a summer day
the water reflecting rural surroundings
an oasis that invites people to dive in and swim
but no one dares
the village legend remains strong
the myths and the facts
memories of those that have drowned in the lake
the lake
stay away
#secrets
#nature
#tragedy
162 reads
14 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
7th Jan 2020 9:43pm
7th Jan 2020 9:43pm
The Wintry Shore
new year’s day
the deserted shore
specs of rain muddy the sand
the tide rushes backwards
waves that crescendo
hammering against rocks
as temperatures drop
and dusk falls
night
the deserted shore
specs of rain muddy the sand
the tide rushes backwards
waves that crescendo
hammering against rocks
as temperatures drop
and dusk falls
night
#loneliness
#sea
#nature
130 reads
10 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
1st Jan 2020 10:17pm
1st Jan 2020 10:17pm
Toby And I: A True Story
About three months after I arrived, I heard that the vicar had a dog and I asked (cheekily) if I could walk the dog. A few days later, I went on my first walk with Toby, a golden Labrador.
A powerful healing tool. I began taking Toby around Highgate Wood and Alexandra Palace. I loved the solitude of nature coupled with the silent companionship of the dog; the memories of Royton, Lancashire, when I had walked the family dog, Timmy, around the estate that we'd lived on; the reminders of the C of E primary school in Royton, St Paul's, and how much a part of the school I had felt...
A powerful healing tool. I began taking Toby around Highgate Wood and Alexandra Palace. I loved the solitude of nature coupled with the silent companionship of the dog; the memories of Royton, Lancashire, when I had walked the family dog, Timmy, around the estate that we'd lived on; the reminders of the C of E primary school in Royton, St Paul's, and how much a part of the school I had felt...
#friendship
#animals
#peace
118 reads
14 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
29th Dec 2019 10:35pm
29th Dec 2019 10:35pm
My Grandmother Elke, True Story, Manchester UK
One Sunday afternoon, my brother Robin and I took a walk to my maternal grandmother’s in Prestwich. She lived on the first floor of an old draughty house that had been converted into two flats.
We sat talking in her cosy kitchen for a while, the three of us drinking stewed tea, Grandma telling us stories about her past in her loud slightly falsetto voice. She was very much an eccentric who took delight in saying something, then chuckling to herself. We used to tease her a bit. Understandably.
That afternoon in the downstairs flat, she was talking about discipline and...
We sat talking in her cosy kitchen for a while, the three of us drinking stewed tea, Grandma telling us stories about her past in her loud slightly falsetto voice. She was very much an eccentric who took delight in saying something, then chuckling to herself. We used to tease her a bit. Understandably.
That afternoon in the downstairs flat, she was talking about discipline and...
#family
#funny
109 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
24th Dec 2019 10:08pm
24th Dec 2019 10:08pm
Carols By Candlelight
A village church centuries-old
A hint of fragrance
Tiny candles
The choir sings
Unaccompanied voices
Harmonies and cadences
A message of hope
The Light of the world
A hint of fragrance
Tiny candles
The choir sings
Unaccompanied voices
Harmonies and cadences
A message of hope
The Light of the world
#hope
#Christmas
#music
130 reads
9 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Dec 2019 8:12pm
23rd Dec 2019 8:12pm
The House On The Hill
The old house stands at the top of a hill
Alone and abandoned
Surrounded by grass and earth
Weeds sprout across an uneven path
The faded curtains and peeling paint hint of secrets
An unproven rumour from the past
Silent weeping
The house has remained empty for years
People don’t want to come here
Apart from drunken kids for weekend dares
Or the morbid drawn to tragedy
Alone and abandoned
Surrounded by grass and earth
Weeds sprout across an uneven path
The faded curtains and peeling paint hint of secrets
An unproven rumour from the past
Silent weeping
The house has remained empty for years
People don’t want to come here
Apart from drunken kids for weekend dares
Or the morbid drawn to tragedy
#loneliness
#countryside
#despair #boredom
#despair #boredom
131 reads
10 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
17th Dec 2019 8:52pm
17th Dec 2019 8:52pm
The Winter Poem
Winter, the longest season of all.
Deceptive sunlight.
A hint of frost.
Snow may fall sooner or later.
The evenings continue to draw in early.
Dawn is delayed.
The winter stillness lingers,
Raw and deep and icy cold.
Deceptive sunlight.
A hint of frost.
Snow may fall sooner or later.
The evenings continue to draw in early.
Dawn is delayed.
The winter stillness lingers,
Raw and deep and icy cold.
#winter
#night
140 reads
11 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
13th Dec 2019 9:04pm
13th Dec 2019 9:04pm
Beethoven 7
We spent Sundays hiking in the countryside.
During the car ride, I always looked forward to the moment when the third movement of Beethoven’s Seventh symphony (the scherzo and trio) would burst out over the car speakers, the opening announcing itself like a fanfare, the rises and falls in the music matching the mounts and vales of the Lancashire/Yorkshire countryside.
War memorials. Village church clocks. Quarries stretching out at the bottom of winding roads. Pieces of machinery humming over the stillness as we climbed hills.
We walked in all weather...
During the car ride, I always looked forward to the moment when the third movement of Beethoven’s Seventh symphony (the scherzo and trio) would burst out over the car speakers, the opening announcing itself like a fanfare, the rises and falls in the music matching the mounts and vales of the Lancashire/Yorkshire countryside.
War memorials. Village church clocks. Quarries stretching out at the bottom of winding roads. Pieces of machinery humming over the stillness as we climbed hills.
We walked in all weather...
#childhood
#nature
#memories
110 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Dec 2019 9:17pm
6th Dec 2019 9:17pm
Late Dawns And Early Evenings
the frost creeps up each morning
a faint coating on the pavements
slippery but barely visible
the temperature has dropped
a hint of ice hangs in the air
promising worse as winter approaches
long nights and late dawns
the sun melts the dew during the day
only for it to turn to ice once evening falls
the promise of winter
a faint coating on the pavements
slippery but barely visible
the temperature has dropped
a hint of ice hangs in the air
promising worse as winter approaches
long nights and late dawns
the sun melts the dew during the day
only for it to turn to ice once evening falls
the promise of winter
#fall
#nature
#Christmas
140 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Dec 2019 00:02am
1st Dec 2019 00:02am
Beauty In The Wilderness
The patch of land lies bare and unspoilt
An array of paths that weave through trees
Mud puddles and rusty railings
Steps that twist up a steep rise
An assortment of hidden colours
The photographer’s hour
A fresh wind
A hint of sunlight
Silvery like a winter mist
An array of paths that weave through trees
Mud puddles and rusty railings
Steps that twist up a steep rise
An assortment of hidden colours
The photographer’s hour
A fresh wind
A hint of sunlight
Silvery like a winter mist
#countryside
#nature
133 reads
7 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
24th Nov 2019 11:52pm
24th Nov 2019 11:52pm
Amnesia
Nearly five hours had passed since she’d put the washing in the machine and poured a glass of orange squash.
In the kitchen, she found the radio off and the back door bolted, although she couldn’t remember bolting it. An empty glass stood on the kitchen table, along with a half eaten banana and the remains of a sandwich. A snack she didn’t recall preparing.
The washing had dried and was folded up on a chair. Presumably, she’d taken the clothes out of the machine, left them to hang on the washing line in the heat, then brought them in once they’d dried.
Another...
In the kitchen, she found the radio off and the back door bolted, although she couldn’t remember bolting it. An empty glass stood on the kitchen table, along with a half eaten banana and the remains of a sandwich. A snack she didn’t recall preparing.
The washing had dried and was folded up on a chair. Presumably, she’d taken the clothes out of the machine, left them to hang on the washing line in the heat, then brought them in once they’d dried.
Another...
#scary
#memories
#confusion
181 reads
8 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
21st Nov 2019 8:12pm
21st Nov 2019 8:12pm
Trapped In A Religious Sect, Simeon's Story
His joints ached from the cold. Crunching up the empty coke can, he tossed it into the bin with a perfect throw and left the park.
He walked up Church Street and turned onto the High Street, chest tight with anger.
He didn’t like wandering around searching for people, as it reminded him of how he’d run along the Dorset cove in the middle of a heat wave, a boy of eight looking for an elderly gentleman and their wife, eager for news on estranged relatives.
He’d ended up by the fair marquee in the middle of the seaside resort, sweaty and thirsty and hungry....
He walked up Church Street and turned onto the High Street, chest tight with anger.
He didn’t like wandering around searching for people, as it reminded him of how he’d run along the Dorset cove in the middle of a heat wave, a boy of eight looking for an elderly gentleman and their wife, eager for news on estranged relatives.
He’d ended up by the fair marquee in the middle of the seaside resort, sweaty and thirsty and hungry....
#rejection
#childhood
#despair
140 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Lozzamus
