Submissions by Rew
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Rewincarnated.
Reincarnation? Ah, if only so...
would we remember could we leave a sign,
about self's death which happened... ages ago,
and visit our past self's grave, like a shrine?
Perhaps in a past life we were merely a flea
jumping round sucking up to make ends meet
and then when reincarnated to...me,
find fleas didn't know much to start with, shee'eet!
Though, in some archeological dig,
rummaging amongst old sarcophagi
the aged professor does a creaky jig
as he, translates the hieroglyphs as
...
would we remember could we leave a sign,
about self's death which happened... ages ago,
and visit our past self's grave, like a shrine?
Perhaps in a past life we were merely a flea
jumping round sucking up to make ends meet
and then when reincarnated to...me,
find fleas didn't know much to start with, shee'eet!
Though, in some archeological dig,
rummaging amongst old sarcophagi
the aged professor does a creaky jig
as he, translates the hieroglyphs as
...
#rebirth
#rhyming
#sonnet
32 reads
2 Comments
When I'm all Grown...
When I'm all grown up and a dotty Aunt
I'll not swig bottles of cough medicine,
nor smell of wee or camphor balls I shan't
read Woman's Own nor Lady magazine...
For the nephews I shall buy stink-bomb kits
as prezzies, nieces shall get bad ass drums,
and I'll teach all how to cuss, hit and kick
their way through life and not be, the sad ones.
The nephews shall squire me to the ball
and introduce me to elderly gents,
with nieces I'll pillow fight and we'll fall
for boys, then suffer...
I'll not swig bottles of cough medicine,
nor smell of wee or camphor balls I shan't
read Woman's Own nor Lady magazine...
For the nephews I shall buy stink-bomb kits
as prezzies, nieces shall get bad ass drums,
and I'll teach all how to cuss, hit and kick
their way through life and not be, the sad ones.
The nephews shall squire me to the ball
and introduce me to elderly gents,
with nieces I'll pillow fight and we'll fall
for boys, then suffer...
#sonnet
42 reads
5 Comments
Cassandra & Ajax
I came to Athena for aegis 'gainst my fate
but the fall of Troy showed me that was forlorn,
indeed I was ripped from her arms, maid for mate
as he rudely used me with artless male scorn...
Such a curse, Apollo, visited on me,
then blast it with bolts of raw untrust, for all,
I knew my coming fate from my own prophecy
but my feet, still, dragged me to my sordid fall.
Ajax the Lesser? Ah! A gross misnomer
I thought Priapus come as the earth began to quake
as he, again, sheathed his weapon, this farmer
sowed his...
but the fall of Troy showed me that was forlorn,
indeed I was ripped from her arms, maid for mate
as he rudely used me with artless male scorn...
Such a curse, Apollo, visited on me,
then blast it with bolts of raw untrust, for all,
I knew my coming fate from my own prophecy
but my feet, still, dragged me to my sordid fall.
Ajax the Lesser? Ah! A gross misnomer
I thought Priapus come as the earth began to quake
as he, again, sheathed his weapon, this farmer
sowed his...
#sonnet
#mythology
#historical
54 reads
2 Comments
Dreaming with the Forever Gone.
Getting and spending wasting our living
slaves not to bodies needs but greedy eye
those fancying orbs set up high see things
beyond hand's grasp grows to be, highly prized!
Long before written records could be wrote
or passing time told by brass-necked tin clocks
the prize was on the hoof and in the wind
and hunger for it gripped belly and throat,
the price of that prize, sweat and thrown flint rocks
their only way to reach it, swift lithe limbs...
O to live again in our human spring
I hear this often in rhyme's...
slaves not to bodies needs but greedy eye
those fancying orbs set up high see things
beyond hand's grasp grows to be, highly prized!
Long before written records could be wrote
or passing time told by brass-necked tin clocks
the prize was on the hoof and in the wind
and hunger for it gripped belly and throat,
the price of that prize, sweat and thrown flint rocks
their only way to reach it, swift lithe limbs...
O to live again in our human spring
I hear this often in rhyme's...
#dreams
#rhyming
52 reads
2 Comments
Do not sigh. villanelle
Do not sigh waiting for the words to come
the soft words the weighty words and the hard,
but take up your pen go and search for some,
These rhymes are not hard, your brain is not numb,
and by musing your work may well be marred,
do not sigh waiting for the words to come,
The words are there this is your mother's tongue,
your brain it will not shatter into shards,
but take up your pen go and search for some,
Take your thoughts, weave and spin your song, till sung ...
the soft words the weighty words and the hard,
but take up your pen go and search for some,
These rhymes are not hard, your brain is not numb,
and by musing your work may well be marred,
do not sigh waiting for the words to come,
The words are there this is your mother's tongue,
your brain it will not shatter into shards,
but take up your pen go and search for some,
Take your thoughts, weave and spin your song, till sung ...
#villanelle
58 reads
4 Comments
His Mouth Organ
His mouth-organ plays such sweet tunes
under supple lip and quick tongue,
so skillfully he makes it croon
his mouth-organ plays such sweet tunes,
And me, child-like, am not immune
to this Pied Piper piping come...
His mouth organ plays such sweet tunes
under supple lip and quick tongue.
under supple lip and quick tongue,
so skillfully he makes it croon
his mouth-organ plays such sweet tunes,
And me, child-like, am not immune
to this Pied Piper piping come...
His mouth organ plays such sweet tunes
under supple lip and quick tongue.
#triolet
65 reads
4 Comments
Gone...
My life stopped when my Mother died
but not so much when Pa past on,
I tried to grieve I tried and tried
my life stopped when my Mother died,
I self harmed, rent my hair and cried
how could she do this to me... gone?
My life stopped when my Mother died
but not so much when Pa past on.
but not so much when Pa past on,
I tried to grieve I tried and tried
my life stopped when my Mother died,
I self harmed, rent my hair and cried
how could she do this to me... gone?
My life stopped when my Mother died
but not so much when Pa past on.
#triolet
46 reads
4 Comments
The Night Train
I loved to hear trains steam through my dark nights
the milk train's brimful clattering romance,
in my deepest dark or fast fading light.
Raising my slumbers to wondering height
darkness and silence this magic enhanced,
I loved to hear trains steam through my dark nights.
I marveled at their smooth rocketing might;
of huge steel driving wheel's rumbling advance,
in my deepest dark or fast fading light.
No sleepers see train's firebox stoked bright,
nor streaming, gleaming, cinders to entrance,
I would love to hear trains...
the milk train's brimful clattering romance,
in my deepest dark or fast fading light.
Raising my slumbers to wondering height
darkness and silence this magic enhanced,
I loved to hear trains steam through my dark nights.
I marveled at their smooth rocketing might;
of huge steel driving wheel's rumbling advance,
in my deepest dark or fast fading light.
No sleepers see train's firebox stoked bright,
nor streaming, gleaming, cinders to entrance,
I would love to hear trains...
#villanelle
44 reads
2 Comments
My Simple Dream
I wish to be a simple dream
not needing to be woken up
all in the dark to this world's schemes
I wish to be a simple dream...
Slumbering through eternity
to have no need to eat nor sup,
I wish to be a simple dream
not needing to be woken up.
not needing to be woken up
all in the dark to this world's schemes
I wish to be a simple dream...
Slumbering through eternity
to have no need to eat nor sup,
I wish to be a simple dream
not needing to be woken up.
#triolet
56 reads
4 Comments
The Old School
Round the granite dressed Carr Academy
in right grandly titled Woodhouse hill road,
a host of terraced houses neighbourly
nestled, back-to-back, side-by-side and dozed...
On lift of latch, brass-bell of Ramsden's shop
would clang, to tell folk shop might make a sale,
and growl of steel clad wheels and sharp clip-clop
as brewer's dray, carted Bay Horse some ales.
But come four-of-the-clock great...
in right grandly titled Woodhouse hill road,
a host of terraced houses neighbourly
nestled, back-to-back, side-by-side and dozed...
On lift of latch, brass-bell of Ramsden's shop
would clang, to tell folk shop might make a sale,
and growl of steel clad wheels and sharp clip-clop
as brewer's dray, carted Bay Horse some ales.
But come four-of-the-clock great...
#family
#fiction
#sonnet
#historical
#nonfiction
56 reads
0 Comments
Lines on an old Photograph
Amongst these streets grand lives were lived
in old Hunslet and the Carr,
we'er foreign words like the'er and sith
were spake to thee and tha.
When flat cap and headscarf were worn
and hens sat on the'er eggs,
no wasted food for owt were borne
to pigs who reet grandly et them dregs.
When bike or leg or bus or tram
were allus good for us,
and meals were allus made by Mam
coz Pa had earned the crust.
Well, fashions come and fashions go
but those streets should've stayed,
the brick and stone...
in old Hunslet and the Carr,
we'er foreign words like the'er and sith
were spake to thee and tha.
When flat cap and headscarf were worn
and hens sat on the'er eggs,
no wasted food for owt were borne
to pigs who reet grandly et them dregs.
When bike or leg or bus or tram
were allus good for us,
and meals were allus made by Mam
coz Pa had earned the crust.
Well, fashions come and fashions go
but those streets should've stayed,
the brick and stone...
#rhyming
#historical
65 reads
0 Comments
Of My Next Life
Of my next life's incarnation
so my tea-bags divination
tells me, I'll be a mote of dust,
in dark Cosmo's nothingness
sleeping peacefully, the mindless one.
But such it is if spin's begun
I Shall Be the attractive one,
pulling other motes as I must
to my next life...
Mote by mote time's slow accretion
spinning fast to nuclear fusion,
crammed crushed shrunk in magnetic lust
till at long last, ( tea-bags I trust)
I burst out aflame, Ra, the Sun ...
so my tea-bags divination
tells me, I'll be a mote of dust,
in dark Cosmo's nothingness
sleeping peacefully, the mindless one.
But such it is if spin's begun
I Shall Be the attractive one,
pulling other motes as I must
to my next life...
Mote by mote time's slow accretion
spinning fast to nuclear fusion,
crammed crushed shrunk in magnetic lust
till at long last, ( tea-bags I trust)
I burst out aflame, Ra, the Sun ...
#dreams
#science
#rebirth #fiction
#rebirth #fiction
70 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by Rew