Submissions by Rew
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Another quote from a dead great poet S.T.Coleridge. " suspension of disbelief " The views, ideas and opinions (if any) expressed in my work are not necessarily those of the author who just happens to be me.
Reflection
There's something tragical about a glass
hanging there mutely absorbing the world,
silently soaking daily scenes up as
life parades past with quick looks in a whirl.
As I pass I glance at this one, sideways,
it shows Mum's coats still hanging in the hall
though these are from our past, our yesterdays,
there they are forlorn on hooks on the wall.
This was the mirror Mum used, as Mums do,
bustling in and out of our old rude home
and strangely, without my specks, as I grew,
I would glimpse her, in this glass, though alone.
...
hanging there mutely absorbing the world,
silently soaking daily scenes up as
life parades past with quick looks in a whirl.
As I pass I glance at this one, sideways,
it shows Mum's coats still hanging in the hall
though these are from our past, our yesterdays,
there they are forlorn on hooks on the wall.
This was the mirror Mum used, as Mums do,
bustling in and out of our old rude home
and strangely, without my specks, as I grew,
I would glimpse her, in this glass, though alone.
...
#sonnet
30 reads
4 Comments
f**k Off!
You're all a bunch of sad fucking wankers
dripping fucking shite down a virgin page,
for fucks sake! Pretending to be writers?
A drunken fuck of monkeys does the same.
No fucking imagination, y'all suck!
lost in your own masterbating fuck-wits,
I'd see more passion, as single-cells fuck,
and culture, as yeasts and slime fucking split.
So, there, pick the fucking bones out of that!
you fucked up Tweedledum's & Tweedledee's,
as you fucks gather to polish turds you've shat
all I want to do is...
dripping fucking shite down a virgin page,
for fucks sake! Pretending to be writers?
A drunken fuck of monkeys does the same.
No fucking imagination, y'all suck!
lost in your own masterbating fuck-wits,
I'd see more passion, as single-cells fuck,
and culture, as yeasts and slime fucking split.
So, there, pick the fucking bones out of that!
you fucked up Tweedledum's & Tweedledee's,
as you fucks gather to polish turds you've shat
all I want to do is...
#rhyming
#sonnet
47 reads
10 Comments
Me
I'm too bolshy to define
or be defined,
too awkwardly angular
for labels to stick,
and if there are two
routes to follow
I will split and travel both
and on the face of chance
I will fearfully spit.
I hate and love me
in unequal measure
and all that the universe
contains, or I've kissed.
I am a fool I squander
self on foolish things
and I am the wisest
thing that ever will
or did exist.
I sink in the swamp
of mediocrity I am
a tower, a raging
prodigy, who makes
others...
or be defined,
too awkwardly angular
for labels to stick,
and if there are two
routes to follow
I will split and travel both
and on the face of chance
I will fearfully spit.
I hate and love me
in unequal measure
and all that the universe
contains, or I've kissed.
I am a fool I squander
self on foolish things
and I am the wisest
thing that ever will
or did exist.
I sink in the swamp
of mediocrity I am
a tower, a raging
prodigy, who makes
others...
#rhyming
39 reads
0 Comments
Idibera
I am Idi Bera -
Tender of Graves.
Keeper of bones
I will speak for our first dead
these who have no words with which to speak
who left no monuments but their bones
which you wish, now, to carve, as runic stones?
Then you, agéd prophets, would try to wreak
on our rest fearful mumbles said to be
prophecies, from these old bones. Prophecies?
From folk who could detect the beast in the breeze
when clad in flesh fleet as the wind, ...
Tender of Graves.
Keeper of bones
I will speak for our first dead
these who have no words with which to speak
who left no monuments but their bones
which you wish, now, to carve, as runic stones?
Then you, agéd prophets, would try to wreak
on our rest fearful mumbles said to be
prophecies, from these old bones. Prophecies?
From folk who could detect the beast in the breeze
when clad in flesh fleet as the wind, ...
#ShortStory
43 reads
0 Comments
Return of Eden.
This husk for thoughts, this pod for wits,
this disseminater of the pits
shouldering within to its goal
the uncomplaining, unknown, soul.
In symbiosis with the flesh
in waiting, ordure, earth refresh,
the hidden thing within on death
released, becomes God's lost breath.
From leaders all comes this cry
copulate quick, before you die,
produce air, no less, for the Throne
and fertilizer from your bones.
The Earth, for bloom, and God for sigh
wait patient for freed souls to fly,
to bring Him back His long...
this disseminater of the pits
shouldering within to its goal
the uncomplaining, unknown, soul.
In symbiosis with the flesh
in waiting, ordure, earth refresh,
the hidden thing within on death
released, becomes God's lost breath.
From leaders all comes this cry
copulate quick, before you die,
produce air, no less, for the Throne
and fertilizer from your bones.
The Earth, for bloom, and God for sigh
wait patient for freed souls to fly,
to bring Him back His long...
#rhyming
31 reads
2 Comments
Death seems a Treat.
Surround the land with city sound
scrape up all the dead,
what need have these for tended mound
their feelings have all fled.
Tear up the trees and greenery
spread concrete instead,
what need have we for sight of these
erect blocks not homestead.
Around the sound of city roar
glares the stunning light,
as upwards concrete units soar
stabbing away the night.
A triumph over little men
with mean and earthy minds
men who think the battery hen
is cruel and unkind.
Surround the land with city sound ...
scrape up all the dead,
what need have these for tended mound
their feelings have all fled.
Tear up the trees and greenery
spread concrete instead,
what need have we for sight of these
erect blocks not homestead.
Around the sound of city roar
glares the stunning light,
as upwards concrete units soar
stabbing away the night.
A triumph over little men
with mean and earthy minds
men who think the battery hen
is cruel and unkind.
Surround the land with city sound ...
#rhyming
49 reads
4 Comments
The Rattling Cortege
She had watched, and often,
death's rattling cortege,
visioned her own going, softer,
in a more romantic age,
and, as a stranger in the chapel,
her neighbors remarked,
" How strange, & what a marvel,
her face, unblemished, unmarked "
As the smoke from the long black chimney
(as they sang of remembrance and love)
rose, fusing her fuming body,
with the clouds, above.
death's rattling cortege,
visioned her own going, softer,
in a more romantic age,
and, as a stranger in the chapel,
her neighbors remarked,
" How strange, & what a marvel,
her face, unblemished, unmarked "
As the smoke from the long black chimney
(as they sang of remembrance and love)
rose, fusing her fuming body,
with the clouds, above.
#death
#graveyard
50 reads
4 Comments
Passing.
I did not know you were really dead
or, could not bring myself to believe
till I saw that chap, baring his head,
bowing you past, and me, leave to grieve.
or, could not bring myself to believe
till I saw that chap, baring his head,
bowing you past, and me, leave to grieve.
#rhyming
34 reads
2 Comments
Insane Rage
I've insane rage inside it kills
O comfort me my Mother dear
Its wills will me to do self ills
I've insane rage inside it kills
O mother mine please hold me still
gently gentle me free from fear
I've insane rage inside it kills
O comfort me my Mother dear.
This rage will will me underground
Dear gentle me with Mother love
down on Earth I am so hell bound
this rage will will me underground,
I might reach peace deep underground
I'm teetering, just one...
O comfort me my Mother dear
Its wills will me to do self ills
I've insane rage inside it kills
O mother mine please hold me still
gently gentle me free from fear
I've insane rage inside it kills
O comfort me my Mother dear.
This rage will will me underground
Dear gentle me with Mother love
down on Earth I am so hell bound
this rage will will me underground,
I might reach peace deep underground
I'm teetering, just one...
#triolet
52 reads
4 Comments
Travels in The Past
Here? Fields we rambled, played and picnicked on
adjacent, there, the forcing rhubarb sheds,
those black tar-papered sheds, those also gone,
ground under concrete and forever dead.
Here, can you imagine it, hedgerows grew,
flourished even beside old dry-stone walls,
beaten pathways on hard packed earth these flew
between farmers fields where green crops grew tall.
Nothing remains but imaged memories
and these, alas, engraved on simple minds
all those crops, trees and country greenery
lost to the progress of the human kind. ...
adjacent, there, the forcing rhubarb sheds,
those black tar-papered sheds, those also gone,
ground under concrete and forever dead.
Here, can you imagine it, hedgerows grew,
flourished even beside old dry-stone walls,
beaten pathways on hard packed earth these flew
between farmers fields where green crops grew tall.
Nothing remains but imaged memories
and these, alas, engraved on simple minds
all those crops, trees and country greenery
lost to the progress of the human kind. ...
#sonnet
36 reads
4 Comments
Feathered Friends
I get letters from our feathered friends
who peck out notes with tuneful beaks,
and post-cards too they sometimes send
( I guess Miss Owl corrects mistakes.)
I expect to hear from cuckoo soon
some little missive sneaked in pigeon's post,
" Gud Rew, Cud Rew? "a two tone tune
"Tek-care, Tek-care, chicks with sparrow host."
Maggie, who's letters are never stamped
squawks, " ta for nice shiny bit o tin "
which caused a stir until I'd flapped
around and found my old Woolworth's ring.
Or, sent post-haste by Royal Mail ...
who peck out notes with tuneful beaks,
and post-cards too they sometimes send
( I guess Miss Owl corrects mistakes.)
I expect to hear from cuckoo soon
some little missive sneaked in pigeon's post,
" Gud Rew, Cud Rew? "a two tone tune
"Tek-care, Tek-care, chicks with sparrow host."
Maggie, who's letters are never stamped
squawks, " ta for nice shiny bit o tin "
which caused a stir until I'd flapped
around and found my old Woolworth's ring.
Or, sent post-haste by Royal Mail ...
#rhyming
49 reads
4 Comments
They all kissed Me...
She has a quiet pride in self,
as autumn strews her path with gold,
the trees bestowed bronzed silvered wealth
on all that's worth holding in this world.
One can see in those prideful strides
this proclamation, " I am Woman! "
a sisterhood this whole world wide
reaching back to their birth of man.
And so it was across the veldt
ten times ten thousand years ago,
those yesterdays they claimed and owned
a vastly gleaming world of gold.
They walked from Eden to Bethlehem
to give lowly birthing for a...
as autumn strews her path with gold,
the trees bestowed bronzed silvered wealth
on all that's worth holding in this world.
One can see in those prideful strides
this proclamation, " I am Woman! "
a sisterhood this whole world wide
reaching back to their birth of man.
And so it was across the veldt
ten times ten thousand years ago,
those yesterdays they claimed and owned
a vastly gleaming world of gold.
They walked from Eden to Bethlehem
to give lowly birthing for a...
#rhyming
42 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Rew