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.
I should leave but I know I'll stay
Arguments
play out an old refrain,
we make up
so you can leave again.
Taxi into town
a burned out clown,
you tumble
till the neon shuts you down.
Taking turns
to spin you on your stool,
playthings
pass the parcel as you drool,
Buttoned blouse
gets fumbled out of shape,
grace
is sipped away without a trace.
Restless hands
beat symptoms on my chair,
pretending
to myself that you still care.
I can only
walk the worn out floor.
A dog
that waits behind a nightclub door. ...
play out an old refrain,
we make up
so you can leave again.
Taxi into town
a burned out clown,
you tumble
till the neon shuts you down.
Taking turns
to spin you on your stool,
playthings
pass the parcel as you drool,
Buttoned blouse
gets fumbled out of shape,
grace
is sipped away without a trace.
Restless hands
beat symptoms on my chair,
pretending
to myself that you still care.
I can only
walk the worn out floor.
A dog
that waits behind a nightclub door. ...
#relationships
#breakup
370 reads
3 Comments
Our Time
Garage roofs, were made for jumps,
when Mr Knievel did his own stunts.
Old shed doors were skateboard ramps.
and games were played under lamps.
Garden fences were made to hop,
Chinn and Chapman were kings of pop.
Chippers, Choppers, Tomahawks and Racers,
all ridden by kids with Mickey Mouse braces.
Stories of ghosts and shadows mistook,
terrified in tents, dark nights down the brook.
Den’s dug out, covered with a car bonnet,
shot at by an idiot with a two, two bullet.
Corner shops, sold huge elastic...
when Mr Knievel did his own stunts.
Old shed doors were skateboard ramps.
and games were played under lamps.
Garden fences were made to hop,
Chinn and Chapman were kings of pop.
Chippers, Choppers, Tomahawks and Racers,
all ridden by kids with Mickey Mouse braces.
Stories of ghosts and shadows mistook,
terrified in tents, dark nights down the brook.
Den’s dug out, covered with a car bonnet,
shot at by an idiot with a two, two bullet.
Corner shops, sold huge elastic...
#childhood
#memories
422 reads
6 Comments
Some Mothers do have em
Sore folds, dusted talc
mouth bubbles, gurgled out
chubby legs, dimpled knees
farm cheeks, need to squeeze
Bald patch, cradle cap
little mitts, hands clap
changing mat, wrestling ring
tear stained, teething ring
Full nappy, wobble weight
bath time, in a state
milk bottle, Sterilise
naked pee, past your eyes
Jim jams, romper suit
snuggle sniff, tiny boots
all clean, kissing heads
six o’clock, into beds
Big eyes, mobile spins
sucking cuffs, chime begins
wide awake, crying game ...
mouth bubbles, gurgled out
chubby legs, dimpled knees
farm cheeks, need to squeeze
Bald patch, cradle cap
little mitts, hands clap
changing mat, wrestling ring
tear stained, teething ring
Full nappy, wobble weight
bath time, in a state
milk bottle, Sterilise
naked pee, past your eyes
Jim jams, romper suit
snuggle sniff, tiny boots
all clean, kissing heads
six o’clock, into beds
Big eyes, mobile spins
sucking cuffs, chime begins
wide awake, crying game ...
#children
#motherhood
#fatherhood
373 reads
6 Comments
Sitting on mushrooms
I coughed a lung into damp air
echoing thunder, under colossal
red brick arches of a steam age.
Loose maned horses watched
as we trampled their fields,
picking up our afternoons escape.
Music spoke in coloured notes
each frequency a different shape,
carpet patterns elevated onto pedestals
until tea time crashed into beer cans
and a bitter after taste.
echoing thunder, under colossal
red brick arches of a steam age.
Loose maned horses watched
as we trampled their fields,
picking up our afternoons escape.
Music spoke in coloured notes
each frequency a different shape,
carpet patterns elevated onto pedestals
until tea time crashed into beer cans
and a bitter after taste.
#drugs
431 reads
4 Comments
Remembering to remember
Each worn out track,
as I look back
burnt markers on this land.
Not blown away,
by windy days
or fingers sifting sand.
Those crumpled snaps
of head-back laughs,
to take us there again.
You coloured in,
with lines so thin,
a world that still remains.
We've held desire,
as logs to fire,
now naked in the hearth.
I brush your hair,
plat lonely stares,
red ribbons torn apart.
The fence too high
we climb goodbye,
our history on the wane.
I hold your note ...
as I look back
burnt markers on this land.
Not blown away,
by windy days
or fingers sifting sand.
Those crumpled snaps
of head-back laughs,
to take us there again.
You coloured in,
with lines so thin,
a world that still remains.
We've held desire,
as logs to fire,
now naked in the hearth.
I brush your hair,
plat lonely stares,
red ribbons torn apart.
The fence too high
we climb goodbye,
our history on the wane.
I hold your note ...
#love
#memories
#FeelingLost
369 reads
4 Comments
Baba Yaga
Phallic mother
I am the forest,
a death that rots beneath
my leaves
can swallow whole
each mind of man
or gently blow on bone.
Come sit inside to grind our paste,
a cloud across the moon,
see which sister shows her face,
on chicken legs the room will turn,
your path will twist if we conspire,
now ask of me a dream, a quest
shadows run if I desire.
You failed your test I take your flesh
and breathe your Russian smell.
The willow wisps so soft
The wizard blows his horn
All creatures call out...
I am the forest,
a death that rots beneath
my leaves
can swallow whole
each mind of man
or gently blow on bone.
Come sit inside to grind our paste,
a cloud across the moon,
see which sister shows her face,
on chicken legs the room will turn,
your path will twist if we conspire,
now ask of me a dream, a quest
shadows run if I desire.
You failed your test I take your flesh
and breathe your Russian smell.
The willow wisps so soft
The wizard blows his horn
All creatures call out...
#ShortStory
430 reads
0 Comments
The Camel's head
A gouged-out tin mine
that cried white at high tide,
thundered over summers
on a sharp-stone barefoot beach.
Churned over poems
scratched onto duck stones
where rockfish spun like crocodiles,
gorging on smashed whelks.
Each morning the sun
would splash across the pool,
before a towel wrapped dash
shivered its way back up the hill
to a caravan that warmed
with coffee and cornflakes,
enough to drain the blue from my lips.
that cried white at high tide,
thundered over summers
on a sharp-stone barefoot beach.
Churned over poems
scratched onto duck stones
where rockfish spun like crocodiles,
gorging on smashed whelks.
Each morning the sun
would splash across the pool,
before a towel wrapped dash
shivered its way back up the hill
to a caravan that warmed
with coffee and cornflakes,
enough to drain the blue from my lips.
#holiday
318 reads
2 Comments
Silver paper on metal fillings
Those ideal minds will always find a way
so let the sunlight through this open door
and ask the morning birds if they will stay
for I have travelled here and wanted more
than coins and smiles that pacify the poor,
in liquid times we drink and swallow pills
they keep my calibration at its core
and minimise reactions of free will.
With rope and spike I joke away my life
climb high to steal what others feel today
and hope that words will not become a knife
that cuts away the ribbons from this day.
Stay still as hands...
so let the sunlight through this open door
and ask the morning birds if they will stay
for I have travelled here and wanted more
than coins and smiles that pacify the poor,
in liquid times we drink and swallow pills
they keep my calibration at its core
and minimise reactions of free will.
With rope and spike I joke away my life
climb high to steal what others feel today
and hope that words will not become a knife
that cuts away the ribbons from this day.
Stay still as hands...
#MentalHealth
355 reads
4 Comments
Learnt behaviour
She stood in front of the pram
repeatedly smacking
into an unseen cry.
Greasy hair and dirty clothes
her body moved in a way
that hinted at issues
and sheltered housing.
Take it away at birth,
tubes should be tied,
can’t even look after themselves,
shouldn't be allowed to have a child,
He gave no eye contact
or opinion, somewhere else
shrinking into the shopping center,
watching the automatic doors
in crisis.
I caught her hand
holding on at the wrist,
she came back from behind her eyes ...
repeatedly smacking
into an unseen cry.
Greasy hair and dirty clothes
her body moved in a way
that hinted at issues
and sheltered housing.
Take it away at birth,
tubes should be tied,
can’t even look after themselves,
shouldn't be allowed to have a child,
He gave no eye contact
or opinion, somewhere else
shrinking into the shopping center,
watching the automatic doors
in crisis.
I caught her hand
holding on at the wrist,
she came back from behind her eyes ...
#anxiety
#parent
#MentalHealth
453 reads
6 Comments
Bun fight at the OK tea room
Twas gone high noon on that ill fated day
breakfast menus had been all put away
no sausage baps or fried greasy food
to ask for it now would Just be rude.
Betty's rules were clear and fabled
she had the signs placed on each table
after 12 came the lunch time snacks
dont dared mention things cooked in fat.
Then in fell Billy from the Slaughtered Lamb
a drunken soul and a hulk of a man.
Where's Betty he cried, cause I needs my grub
bin drinkin all night in there yonder pub.
Better she gits me my full...
breakfast menus had been all put away
no sausage baps or fried greasy food
to ask for it now would Just be rude.
Betty's rules were clear and fabled
she had the signs placed on each table
after 12 came the lunch time snacks
dont dared mention things cooked in fat.
Then in fell Billy from the Slaughtered Lamb
a drunken soul and a hulk of a man.
Where's Betty he cried, cause I needs my grub
bin drinkin all night in there yonder pub.
Better she gits me my full...
#funny
335 reads
2 Comments
The house with a clock on its wall
Julie sits and waits for her soaps to start, eating chocolate
she wipes her hands on her dressing gown,
and turns the pages of an old smiling photo album,
each snap separated by a thin layer of tissue.
She glances at an IKEA wall clock
that needs a battery change,
It’s been watching them for years.
Curved ash drops of Julie’s cigarette onto the arm
of the settee, she smears it in before
taking another odourless drink.
A TV set in the corner holds two small girls captive,
both sit cross-legged doing homework
deep inside...
she wipes her hands on her dressing gown,
and turns the pages of an old smiling photo album,
each snap separated by a thin layer of tissue.
She glances at an IKEA wall clock
that needs a battery change,
It’s been watching them for years.
Curved ash drops of Julie’s cigarette onto the arm
of the settee, she smears it in before
taking another odourless drink.
A TV set in the corner holds two small girls captive,
both sit cross-legged doing homework
deep inside...
#family
#LifeStruggles
355 reads
0 Comments
Delivering Baby Jesus
A wet December has walked itself
into the school hall,
darkening the herring bone floor.
The grey plastic chairs
have been scraped into place
and the chatter has died down to coughing.
Handcams are sat on laps
waiting to focus on the wrong child,
long enough to get a laugh on playback.
The Head Master
has welcomed us with a guitar
and stole his 5 minutes of shame
before he thanked us
and handed us over
to the music teacher, Mrs Jones.
She narrates the long journey to Bethlehem
and they open with...
into the school hall,
darkening the herring bone floor.
The grey plastic chairs
have been scraped into place
and the chatter has died down to coughing.
Handcams are sat on laps
waiting to focus on the wrong child,
long enough to get a laugh on playback.
The Head Master
has welcomed us with a guitar
and stole his 5 minutes of shame
before he thanked us
and handed us over
to the music teacher, Mrs Jones.
She narrates the long journey to Bethlehem
and they open with...
#children
360 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Razzerleaf