Submissions by Strangeways_Rob
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
It takes strength to be gentle and kind
Sinking Ships
My heart stopped for one-thousandth of a second
resuscitated by chimes of St Thomas Church,
peeling hope from eternal tides.
We became the rainfall
sluicing across bows of burly tankers
lost in the Atlantic dark.
We wrote our names in sand
holding still in our time,
before clocks crashed from harbour gallows.
Building ships, forever,
or so it seems,
when we should be diving for pearls.
resuscitated by chimes of St Thomas Church,
peeling hope from eternal tides.
We became the rainfall
sluicing across bows of burly tankers
lost in the Atlantic dark.
We wrote our names in sand
holding still in our time,
before clocks crashed from harbour gallows.
Building ships, forever,
or so it seems,
when we should be diving for pearls.
#death
#faith
#hope #love
#hope #love
109 reads
8 Comments
written by Lady Fancy / Lori
I am not the sunrise
but I should be
I should be a cascade of wind
an unfinished scent
the geometry of words
starting a fresh poem
allowing the lines on my face
to tell it all
leak the shade of grief
I should be an ounce of pride
that spills
from an assumption
of sexual symbolism
headed the wrong way
down a one way street
I should be deep darkness
where old habits live
in ignorance
in awkward silence
beneath equations of unknown
I should be scarred wounds
trying to heal ...
but I should be
I should be a cascade of wind
an unfinished scent
the geometry of words
starting a fresh poem
allowing the lines on my face
to tell it all
leak the shade of grief
I should be an ounce of pride
that spills
from an assumption
of sexual symbolism
headed the wrong way
down a one way street
I should be deep darkness
where old habits live
in ignorance
in awkward silence
beneath equations of unknown
I should be scarred wounds
trying to heal ...
#faith
#hope
#love
140 reads
8 Comments
Rest Softly, Lori
In the rain of your eyes,
Ocean spray bursts up towards heaven
falling back with tears as leaves of a tree.
Love flew out of your mouth in hieroglyphics
like an invitation to a sky wedding
writ on the wrists of kites.
Dawn ghosted,
as a ship’s prow through windows
tangled in curtain rigging
in the way silence enters an empty room
sunrise gallows hang
heavy in your absence.
Tightrope of lips
taut between our secret space
and pavement cracks where rain survives.
Hands prayed...
Ocean spray bursts up towards heaven
falling back with tears as leaves of a tree.
Love flew out of your mouth in hieroglyphics
like an invitation to a sky wedding
writ on the wrists of kites.
Dawn ghosted,
as a ship’s prow through windows
tangled in curtain rigging
in the way silence enters an empty room
sunrise gallows hang
heavy in your absence.
Tightrope of lips
taut between our secret space
and pavement cracks where rain survives.
Hands prayed...
#death
#faith
#hope #love
#hope #love
191 reads
15 Comments
Turn Left at Burnt Coffin and Follow the Silence
Rag-and-bone man sells wilted flowers
for graveside manners
picnic blankets beside tombs
As refugees of misted lands
rambles of shingled memories
breast coasts with words left unspoken
Travelling orbs are flecks of dust,
palm reading and astrology
guessing of sight’s second coming,
even the blind man knows his way home
Always coming back
to kitchen aroma
bodies of paperback spine
mouths wept tales of Romany…..
If you could see me now,
a full embalmment away from
the vodka-corpsed cymru...
for graveside manners
picnic blankets beside tombs
As refugees of misted lands
rambles of shingled memories
breast coasts with words left unspoken
Travelling orbs are flecks of dust,
palm reading and astrology
guessing of sight’s second coming,
even the blind man knows his way home
Always coming back
to kitchen aroma
bodies of paperback spine
mouths wept tales of Romany…..
If you could see me now,
a full embalmment away from
the vodka-corpsed cymru...
#hope
#mother
#LifeCycle #graveyard
#LifeCycle #graveyard
389 reads
16 Comments
Thoughts Framed at Splash Point, 15:00
And though the rain draized
last night’s dream from my eyes,
the vision shared its secrets with the sea
An horizon tanker spilt ink into everything,
in this grey land between two piers
wedded are the hidden fingers of light
Nothing I could say would make the sea weep
for she’s been crying forever, or so it seems,
galleons of whisky would bring you closer to me
in gallery of ‘love oft whispered, is ready to submit’
the dark-lit sand remembered
baptised fragment disciples from cloud scree:
...
last night’s dream from my eyes,
the vision shared its secrets with the sea
An horizon tanker spilt ink into everything,
in this grey land between two piers
wedded are the hidden fingers of light
Nothing I could say would make the sea weep
for she’s been crying forever, or so it seems,
galleons of whisky would bring you closer to me
in gallery of ‘love oft whispered, is ready to submit’
the dark-lit sand remembered
baptised fragment disciples from cloud scree:
...
#LifeCycle
#redemption
264 reads
12 Comments
All One Summer Breath
In the body of this room
her scent, like poetry,
has no expiry date
The night can be an elderberry darkening
veins collecting lightning from earth’s scatterings,
apricot lozenge scrapes
weary embers from my throat,
guitars of orchard flesh
wait to be plucked in summer rain
Coffee and cigarette rush-hour
breaks sunday’s silent hym(e)ns,
torn notebook pages pulpit my feet
like white maps of the world before creation
Teething my three tongues
to colours of your one voice,
words fuck frost from the...
her scent, like poetry,
has no expiry date
The night can be an elderberry darkening
veins collecting lightning from earth’s scatterings,
apricot lozenge scrapes
weary embers from my throat,
guitars of orchard flesh
wait to be plucked in summer rain
Coffee and cigarette rush-hour
breaks sunday’s silent hym(e)ns,
torn notebook pages pulpit my feet
like white maps of the world before creation
Teething my three tongues
to colours of your one voice,
words fuck frost from the...
#LifeCycle
#redemption
294 reads
11 Comments
Once Upon a Woman's Body
#LifeCycle
148 reads
7 Comments
Urgency of the Blizzard
Not even sure if this rhythm between
my thorax and lips counts as breathing
Eyes slub white of the skies
onto heart’hed carpet,
where stitched sinew will weave
infernal limits of our mortal limbs
Bogarted by biography baggage
of all the poetry joints, she walked into here,
began slinging ice and lemon o’er bitter embers
Kindle is not exclusive for reading on trains.
Suburban Phoenix stocks supermarket shelves
with nectar for gravel-voiced sirens, shopped
twin-flamed from a double-barrel shotgun, trigger
...
my thorax and lips counts as breathing
Eyes slub white of the skies
onto heart’hed carpet,
where stitched sinew will weave
infernal limits of our mortal limbs
Bogarted by biography baggage
of all the poetry joints, she walked into here,
began slinging ice and lemon o’er bitter embers
Kindle is not exclusive for reading on trains.
Suburban Phoenix stocks supermarket shelves
with nectar for gravel-voiced sirens, shopped
twin-flamed from a double-barrel shotgun, trigger
...
#romantic
#LifeCycle
234 reads
15 Comments
In Another Rain
the distance between
nations and constellations
is a semaphore breathe away,
traipsed rivers engrave
star reflections
fallen branches
into her tome
the distance between
rotation and the wheel
is tomorrow’s destination,
lungs of our city walls
exhale ruins for citadel colours,
aurora flights strengthen streets
name the city a different kind of grace
river bleeds beneath our skins
as we dared to open our eyes,
and in this moment
not...
nations and constellations
is a semaphore breathe away,
traipsed rivers engrave
star reflections
fallen branches
into her tome
the distance between
rotation and the wheel
is tomorrow’s destination,
lungs of our city walls
exhale ruins for citadel colours,
aurora flights strengthen streets
name the city a different kind of grace
river bleeds beneath our skins
as we dared to open our eyes,
and in this moment
not...
#LifeCycle
244 reads
11 Comments
Shorts from Kitchen Sink Satellites
Nativity Blues
They found him on the school stage
overlooked by a portrait of Jesus,
Above the chair he had kicked away
Small Things Like This
A piano plays in an empty womb
hear the minor keys fall silent,
Staccato are hospital ward screams
brief is the introduction of strangers
Falling from Drifting Snow
When we came back late from the Waterfall
someone pinned a message to the gate,
Wales has drowned, just keep fucking sailing
Some Call it Irony
Knuckleboned tornflesh night ...
They found him on the school stage
overlooked by a portrait of Jesus,
Above the chair he had kicked away
Small Things Like This
A piano plays in an empty womb
hear the minor keys fall silent,
Staccato are hospital ward screams
brief is the introduction of strangers
Falling from Drifting Snow
When we came back late from the Waterfall
someone pinned a message to the gate,
Wales has drowned, just keep fucking sailing
Some Call it Irony
Knuckleboned tornflesh night ...
#LifeCycle
204 reads
7 Comments
Forty Four Words of Vital Statistics
Arithmetic of their resuscitated hearts
Extract roots of serpentine secrecy,
Multiplies her lover’s passion
Ethylene twilight divides flame into bone,
For everything sacred has been written
When water loses her noise
Cortege of caves crumble,
We will say only this -
We survived to love
Extract roots of serpentine secrecy,
Multiplies her lover’s passion
Ethylene twilight divides flame into bone,
For everything sacred has been written
When water loses her noise
Cortege of caves crumble,
We will say only this -
We survived to love
#identity
#LifeCycle
220 reads
11 Comments
Rearranging Spaces
In the way dreams enter a sleeping mind
Street’ed sinews string heels of lonely walkers,
I woke in the dark and came to find you
What would be the taste of this room if I were gone?
Distilled Armani permeates wardrobe grave
Gangrene of love amputated on vellum bed
Nicotine waifs, orphan ex(h)altions p(s)alm walls,
A ceiling shower wouldn’t dampen the carpet
Will the strangers who fuck in my haunted spaces
Handrail the walls, finger the oaken door hinges,
Left slightly open to stained absence of passion, lived?
He who...
Street’ed sinews string heels of lonely walkers,
I woke in the dark and came to find you
What would be the taste of this room if I were gone?
Distilled Armani permeates wardrobe grave
Gangrene of love amputated on vellum bed
Nicotine waifs, orphan ex(h)altions p(s)alm walls,
A ceiling shower wouldn’t dampen the carpet
Will the strangers who fuck in my haunted spaces
Handrail the walls, finger the oaken door hinges,
Left slightly open to stained absence of passion, lived?
He who...
#romantic
#LifeCycle
245 reads
11 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Strangeways_Rob