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.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Oct 2021 10:15pm
5th Oct 2021 10:15pm
Clean well water for just three Guinea's
The worm burst through
his blistered leg
like white emerging shoots;
cruel were the winds
that spring, heating stagnant pools
where water fleas feed on larvae.
Ingested when one mans
drinking water is another mans
nature walk,
out with the children,
collecting algae and frog spawn.
I start to complain about the scale
inside the kettle, then remember
the pictures, sixty centimetres
and three days of pain
to wind it out onto a bobbin,
I close my mouth mid-sentence.
his blistered leg
like white emerging shoots;
cruel were the winds
that spring, heating stagnant pools
where water fleas feed on larvae.
Ingested when one mans
drinking water is another mans
nature walk,
out with the children,
collecting algae and frog spawn.
I start to complain about the scale
inside the kettle, then remember
the pictures, sixty centimetres
and three days of pain
to wind it out onto a bobbin,
I close my mouth mid-sentence.
#illness
#poverty
343 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Oct 2021 5:29pm
1st Oct 2021 5:29pm
Dry Brushes
I signed your cast with a red felt pen
they said you wouldn't paint again
as thick oils dry and crack
you start to take it back
then all the colours
begin to run
vibrant as
morning
sun
they said you wouldn't paint again
as thick oils dry and crack
you start to take it back
then all the colours
begin to run
vibrant as
morning
sun
#TimeHeals
409 reads
6 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Sep 2021 9:23pm
29th Sep 2021 9:23pm
Just a glance
The mirror shows
us every line of hard earned rhyme.
The mirror shows
a place where all our past will go
a cloudy window into time
fresh faces that I thought where mine
the mirror shows
us every line of hard earned rhyme.
The mirror shows
a place where all our past will go
a cloudy window into time
fresh faces that I thought where mine
the mirror shows
#LifeCycle
#aging
379 reads
9 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Sep 2021 1:48am
28th Sep 2021 1:48am
The Artist will out
As we trudge across town
drowning in a down pour
to reach the frozen sanctuary
of a cold kitchen,
we notice the intricate patterns
that pool at our feet
and listen to the rhythm
of our chattering teeth.
As we storm out of the house
with our temper at full sail
canvas already torn,
We notice the cobweb
that cantilevers the fence post,
caught electric white
by a deep calming frost.
Our songs are crafted in carbon
poured out over paper, mixed
with oil, thinned and repainted, ...
drowning in a down pour
to reach the frozen sanctuary
of a cold kitchen,
we notice the intricate patterns
that pool at our feet
and listen to the rhythm
of our chattering teeth.
As we storm out of the house
with our temper at full sail
canvas already torn,
We notice the cobweb
that cantilevers the fence post,
caught electric white
by a deep calming frost.
Our songs are crafted in carbon
poured out over paper, mixed
with oil, thinned and repainted, ...
#WritingPoetry
#art
422 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Sep 2021 00:54am
28th Sep 2021 00:54am
Walking like rain (Drops of Jupiter)
I saw you out alone that day
you looked like you would float away
and I asked you
and I asked you
If you would stay
You smiled at me and I believed
the world was dancing on your sleeves
and you told me
and you told me
you had to leave
So I'm standing here all alone
lost myself on the way back home
and I miss you
and I miss you
I miss your soul
I found a way to say goodbye
shouting at the clear night sky
I still love you
I still love you
but I will try
you looked like you would float away
and I asked you
and I asked you
If you would stay
You smiled at me and I believed
the world was dancing on your sleeves
and you told me
and you told me
you had to leave
So I'm standing here all alone
lost myself on the way back home
and I miss you
and I miss you
I miss your soul
I found a way to say goodbye
shouting at the clear night sky
I still love you
I still love you
but I will try
#music
#lyrics
417 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
17th Sep 2021 5:10pm
17th Sep 2021 5:10pm
Foundation Stones
Old St Oswald long since dead
but we knew where he fell,
King of all Northumbria ee was.
Founder said we’ll build a church
find another spot,
the village can drink from his well.
The Founder was a stern man,
Gods blue eyes in is head
smelled of crusade spices.
We worked two days,
bread n water, stone n stick,
showin what was flat
for all o'th big bottom slabs.
The second night, we ardly slept
our repose was all but done.
We seen it see, we seen it running
Pig wa possessed
devil eed sent er...
but we knew where he fell,
King of all Northumbria ee was.
Founder said we’ll build a church
find another spot,
the village can drink from his well.
The Founder was a stern man,
Gods blue eyes in is head
smelled of crusade spices.
We worked two days,
bread n water, stone n stick,
showin what was flat
for all o'th big bottom slabs.
The second night, we ardly slept
our repose was all but done.
We seen it see, we seen it running
Pig wa possessed
devil eed sent er...
#devil
397 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th Sep 2021 10:11pm
13th Sep 2021 10:11pm
There once was an ugly.....
I am the scratch mark
on your last layer of paint,
the stuck-out nail
your hand snags against.
The awkward walk
of a cowboy’s gait,
the turned away face
with a glimpse of disgrace.
The hand that covers
a mouth of despair,
the pure inhibition
that lets children stare.
The freak summer wave
that makes the beach scream,
the bloated carcass
as you drink downstream.
So I sit here alone
and pour out a poem,
dressed in the way
that she gets to know...
on your last layer of paint,
the stuck-out nail
your hand snags against.
The awkward walk
of a cowboy’s gait,
the turned away face
with a glimpse of disgrace.
The hand that covers
a mouth of despair,
the pure inhibition
that lets children stare.
The freak summer wave
that makes the beach scream,
the bloated carcass
as you drink downstream.
So I sit here alone
and pour out a poem,
dressed in the way
that she gets to know...
#WritingPoetry
#transgender
#SelfWorth
390 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th Sep 2021 9:45am
13th Sep 2021 9:45am
Counting Sheep
I asked if I could count the sheep,
they like to scatter up the hill.
I run quick step to take a peep
and find a place to lie quite still,
could see the flock beyond the mill.
I spot the new born wagging tails
and watch the rutting baby males.
A fox runs out, the bleating starts
I scramble fast on sod and shale,
he nears the lambs but hears my bark.
they like to scatter up the hill.
I run quick step to take a peep
and find a place to lie quite still,
could see the flock beyond the mill.
I spot the new born wagging tails
and watch the rutting baby males.
A fox runs out, the bleating starts
I scramble fast on sod and shale,
he nears the lambs but hears my bark.
#support
325 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
6th Sep 2021 00:20am
6th Sep 2021 00:20am
Last one's to leave
Sunset slips over fish and chips,
greasy fingers and salty lips.
Empty beach, soft warm fleece,
children yawn, storied to sleep.
Mum and dad take some time,
watch the waves, bottle of wine.
Cooling sand as the Seagulls come,
windbreak flaps at the last of the sun.
greasy fingers and salty lips.
Empty beach, soft warm fleece,
children yawn, storied to sleep.
Mum and dad take some time,
watch the waves, bottle of wine.
Cooling sand as the Seagulls come,
windbreak flaps at the last of the sun.
#beach
#holiday
#travel
433 reads
8 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
5th Sep 2021 11:00pm
5th Sep 2021 11:00pm
I wish I could be like Charlie Watts
As a thin wide smile
slides off the snare,
sketches of road beds
rests by his chair.
A jazzed rock and roller
sat sipping green tea
so hard to follow
when guitars take the lead.
In Charlie Parker he would
pen some lost words,
a much missed ode
to a high flying bird.
slides off the snare,
sketches of road beds
rests by his chair.
A jazzed rock and roller
sat sipping green tea
so hard to follow
when guitars take the lead.
In Charlie Parker he would
pen some lost words,
a much missed ode
to a high flying bird.
#inspirational
#music
357 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
23rd Aug 2021 11:58pm
23rd Aug 2021 11:58pm
Watching while words die
We clung to that red umbrella
beneath grey northern skies,
still the rain came as a surprise
as it was snatched out of my hand.
I didn't see the bus coming
and you stepped on without turning,
my legs knew
what my mouth couldn't say,
so I watched inside the belly of the beast
as its windows digested you to the back seats.
The judder of a closing door
meant I was too late
to talk about the responsibility
I needed to take.
Standing there, a magicians assistant
we disappeared in a swirl of road spray, ...
beneath grey northern skies,
still the rain came as a surprise
as it was snatched out of my hand.
I didn't see the bus coming
and you stepped on without turning,
my legs knew
what my mouth couldn't say,
so I watched inside the belly of the beast
as its windows digested you to the back seats.
The judder of a closing door
meant I was too late
to talk about the responsibility
I needed to take.
Standing there, a magicians assistant
we disappeared in a swirl of road spray, ...
#grief
#death
#memorial #PowerOfWords
#memorial #PowerOfWords
435 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
19th Aug 2021 7:16pm
19th Aug 2021 7:16pm
Whispers from the megaphone
We all have talent
and the audience must sit
through so much of it,
when a five-pound note
rolls up to shine.
We funnel words down cables
hoping digital fish
will swim across our table,
Sealions clapping backwards
for rewards.
but what of fame,
however it’s earned,
we sleep with the same
mask of reality
and wake with the mistakes
of our morning paper reviews.
The talking cats have a billion hits ...
and the audience must sit
through so much of it,
when a five-pound note
rolls up to shine.
We funnel words down cables
hoping digital fish
will swim across our table,
Sealions clapping backwards
for rewards.
but what of fame,
however it’s earned,
we sleep with the same
mask of reality
and wake with the mistakes
of our morning paper reviews.
The talking cats have a billion hits ...
#LifeStruggles
#LifeCycle
#aging
497 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Razzerleaf
