Submissions by Razzerleaf
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I have been writing poetry for about 10 years now, still need to crush a lot of coal before I get a rough diamond. I try to improve all the time so really like constructive feedback, Love reading other poets and finding something that takes me away.
Colours for the blind
Red- The burn, as your cheek finds sunlight,
Orange- the scent of dry spice at Christmas,
Green- smell of fresh cut grass under your fingernails,
Black- the taste of coal on your tongue and teeth.
White- the crunch under foot muffled by snow,
Brown- the earth of mud pies mixed by hand
Yellow- the smooth peel of bananas and the feel of custard
Blue- a cold electric tingle when ice finds your face.
Grey-A rough scrape on damp concrete
Pink- the sweet smelling pop of a chewing gum bubble
Purple- the power chord haze of a pulsing guitar.
Orange- the scent of dry spice at Christmas,
Green- smell of fresh cut grass under your fingernails,
Black- the taste of coal on your tongue and teeth.
White- the crunch under foot muffled by snow,
Brown- the earth of mud pies mixed by hand
Yellow- the smooth peel of bananas and the feel of custard
Blue- a cold electric tingle when ice finds your face.
Grey-A rough scrape on damp concrete
Pink- the sweet smelling pop of a chewing gum bubble
Purple- the power chord haze of a pulsing guitar.
#art
344 reads
2 Comments
Keeping your body safe
I run a soft silver brush
through your thinning hair,
you can see us in the mirror
but only a body sits so still.
Often I can catch the corner
of a smile and wonder where
you have traveled to, what year
what style, the latest fad?
We have so many fragments.
I can tell by your hands
when you are dancing,
they shape the closing notes
of a full orchestral score
falling beyond the deaf composer.
Next time you come back,
bringing that smile and soft hand
to my cheek, I want to know
how you do it,...
through your thinning hair,
you can see us in the mirror
but only a body sits so still.
Often I can catch the corner
of a smile and wonder where
you have traveled to, what year
what style, the latest fad?
We have so many fragments.
I can tell by your hands
when you are dancing,
they shape the closing notes
of a full orchestral score
falling beyond the deaf composer.
Next time you come back,
bringing that smile and soft hand
to my cheek, I want to know
how you do it,...
#aging
354 reads
2 Comments
The Visitors
What do they want?
I don’t know, she just asked if they could come round.
I said yes, of course, now calm down and go and put a shirt on.
We couldn’t calm down, even the dog was feeding off my wife’s tension. The doorbell sounded and she shot off her stool like a boxer.
“Please come in, Mrs Antell, Mr Antell.”
“We’re not married,” said Ms Antell, without looking back or breaking step.
Ms Antell had her hair scraped back into a pony tail, a crisp white blouse and a black pencil skirt, that drew a line above fat ankles making her shoes look too small for her...
I don’t know, she just asked if they could come round.
I said yes, of course, now calm down and go and put a shirt on.
We couldn’t calm down, even the dog was feeding off my wife’s tension. The doorbell sounded and she shot off her stool like a boxer.
“Please come in, Mrs Antell, Mr Antell.”
“We’re not married,” said Ms Antell, without looking back or breaking step.
Ms Antell had her hair scraped back into a pony tail, a crisp white blouse and a black pencil skirt, that drew a line above fat ankles making her shoes look too small for her...
#conflict
288 reads
0 Comments
The broken mirror of Erised
His head had been itching for weeks,
the life he had fought so hard to obtain
was boring him to death.
He would be 40 next birthday
and 50 soon after that,
each day was drifting by
without challenge or consequence.
He still loved his wife
but with red hair comes a temper
and his drinking had become a problem.
He woke up in a back street just behind
some rubbish bins, his clothes were soaked
and his glasses had been broken.
The biggest of the four spoke first,
"now then mate, are you ok?
just...
the life he had fought so hard to obtain
was boring him to death.
He would be 40 next birthday
and 50 soon after that,
each day was drifting by
without challenge or consequence.
He still loved his wife
but with red hair comes a temper
and his drinking had become a problem.
He woke up in a back street just behind
some rubbish bins, his clothes were soaked
and his glasses had been broken.
The biggest of the four spoke first,
"now then mate, are you ok?
just...
#funny
302 reads
2 Comments
Children's story
I read myself into your fairy tale
and head wrote extra chapters,
embellished the new characters
with parental ticks and DNA swabs.
We made our wax dolls but the pins
produced predictable responses.
To keep a princes's tired hand
any King would demand a quest.
I forged my own folded sword,
rode elephants into distant battles.
Brought back my own severed head,
and a quiet that looks for noise.
When happily never ever, fails
the poison needs to be sucked and spit,
the apple needs un-eating.
My castle was just...
and head wrote extra chapters,
embellished the new characters
with parental ticks and DNA swabs.
We made our wax dolls but the pins
produced predictable responses.
To keep a princes's tired hand
any King would demand a quest.
I forged my own folded sword,
rode elephants into distant battles.
Brought back my own severed head,
and a quiet that looks for noise.
When happily never ever, fails
the poison needs to be sucked and spit,
the apple needs un-eating.
My castle was just...
#funny
267 reads
0 Comments
A man for all time
I remember those hands
blood knocked out of knuckles,
engine oil deep
in the open crevasses
of split dry finger tips.
They had a life he folded
in every crease, hard work
broke away with blister tops
seeping into aching joints.
Dove tailed down each grain
the strain of twisted metal
carried us cupped,
each inch, each foot
every step measured and cut.
Hands to hide under
to swing from,
to turn and run from
A sting from a slap
the twirl of a scratched gold ring
cradled in his lap.
They built our...
blood knocked out of knuckles,
engine oil deep
in the open crevasses
of split dry finger tips.
They had a life he folded
in every crease, hard work
broke away with blister tops
seeping into aching joints.
Dove tailed down each grain
the strain of twisted metal
carried us cupped,
each inch, each foot
every step measured and cut.
Hands to hide under
to swing from,
to turn and run from
A sting from a slap
the twirl of a scratched gold ring
cradled in his lap.
They built our...
#family
298 reads
2 Comments
Torture and temptation
The copper pot is strapped to my stomach,
the rats inside can feel the flames
their gnawing is my only escape,
I want to break out of this skin.
Each day I feel them scratching,
a quiet need that cries like a child
trapped in a separate dimension,
only alive so the monster can feed.
I shouldn't have come here again,
the leather straps are lay on the floor
the rats run free and there are no
disappointed faces to stop me.
I approach the confessional
and ask a stranger for forgiveness,
he wipes...
the rats inside can feel the flames
their gnawing is my only escape,
I want to break out of this skin.
Each day I feel them scratching,
a quiet need that cries like a child
trapped in a separate dimension,
only alive so the monster can feed.
I shouldn't have come here again,
the leather straps are lay on the floor
the rats run free and there are no
disappointed faces to stop me.
I approach the confessional
and ask a stranger for forgiveness,
he wipes...
#addiction
#temptation
333 reads
2 Comments
Counting digits
I placed a moment out of reach,
too young to explain the details
embroidered on its
white cotton sleeve.
I trusted it to mother,
she carried it behind closed eyes,
curved reflections pushing shapes
into a wrapped tight blanket.
I watched the light as it entered open eyes,
then scattered into saucers,
settling like fish returning
to the deepest parts of the pool.
We lay there casting quiet,
as the battle tent raged above us.
I held that moments single note,
gripped by translucent...
too young to explain the details
embroidered on its
white cotton sleeve.
I trusted it to mother,
she carried it behind closed eyes,
curved reflections pushing shapes
into a wrapped tight blanket.
I watched the light as it entered open eyes,
then scattered into saucers,
settling like fish returning
to the deepest parts of the pool.
We lay there casting quiet,
as the battle tent raged above us.
I held that moments single note,
gripped by translucent...
#father
#children
#parent
#birth
#fatherhood
427 reads
0 Comments
Mint from another Tyme
We thought they had died off,
like the Sunday lunch invites
spooned into gravy, smeared over lamb,
relaxing after with a good red
while the dog cried for leftovers.
There's parts of our garden
I haven't visited in a while,
too much work, too many weeds
but today there's a southerly breeze
that takes me back to that table.
Just for a moment you are with me
and I hear the kitchen clatter,
see your faces, each in its own place.
I follow that path and find you
not gone at all, just out of sight.
...
like the Sunday lunch invites
spooned into gravy, smeared over lamb,
relaxing after with a good red
while the dog cried for leftovers.
There's parts of our garden
I haven't visited in a while,
too much work, too many weeds
but today there's a southerly breeze
that takes me back to that table.
Just for a moment you are with me
and I hear the kitchen clatter,
see your faces, each in its own place.
I follow that path and find you
not gone at all, just out of sight.
...
#family
286 reads
0 Comments
Waking disappointment on a child's face
I shouldn't of come here,
not tonight,
too many mouths
that guzzle and gawp.
I want to sweep them with the buffet
into black plastic bags,
smash bottles into faces
slit several throats
with one coria graphed kata.
The rat has only just finished.
It wasn't content with three days
gnawing inside my muscles,
now it wants me to rot,
watch it run down my legs.
There's a resonance behind the bar
each liquid surface trembles.
I feel like a hunter breathing with the stag
as the optics rise and fall. ...
not tonight,
too many mouths
that guzzle and gawp.
I want to sweep them with the buffet
into black plastic bags,
smash bottles into faces
slit several throats
with one coria graphed kata.
The rat has only just finished.
It wasn't content with three days
gnawing inside my muscles,
now it wants me to rot,
watch it run down my legs.
There's a resonance behind the bar
each liquid surface trembles.
I feel like a hunter breathing with the stag
as the optics rise and fall. ...
#family
283 reads
0 Comments
Cancelled Flight
Being pursued by the periscope eyes
of early morning sand crabs
white sand suntanned feet
cool momentarily in the ocean sweep.
A well earned breakfast, vibrant
with colour and fewer calories,
debunked by a mid-day
Daiquiri or two.
Steel drums drift Marley
on an island record breeze
billowing bleached cabana drapes
ease us into afternoon sleep.
A choir of tree frogs
dance late into the evening,
after a night of heavy drinking,
Is now just a dash of wishful thinking.
of early morning sand crabs
white sand suntanned feet
cool momentarily in the ocean sweep.
A well earned breakfast, vibrant
with colour and fewer calories,
debunked by a mid-day
Daiquiri or two.
Steel drums drift Marley
on an island record breeze
billowing bleached cabana drapes
ease us into afternoon sleep.
A choir of tree frogs
dance late into the evening,
after a night of heavy drinking,
Is now just a dash of wishful thinking.
#holiday
277 reads
0 Comments
Self Sufficient
Mother had all the colours of heather
Father became the house,
strong as granite, supportive as the stones
his back sheltered us all
from the open moors.
When I worked the fields
the scarecrow stood with me,
he was always talking.
When the sunlight peaked the barn
it shimmered across the crops,
it was then I could hear all things speak.
I watched the walls at night
warming with the flames,
the children danced a shadow show.
I can see them still
as I watched them leap above the fire, ...
Father became the house,
strong as granite, supportive as the stones
his back sheltered us all
from the open moors.
When I worked the fields
the scarecrow stood with me,
he was always talking.
When the sunlight peaked the barn
it shimmered across the crops,
it was then I could hear all things speak.
I watched the walls at night
warming with the flames,
the children danced a shadow show.
I can see them still
as I watched them leap above the fire, ...
#family
279 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Razzerleaf