Submissions by Strangeways_Rob
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
It takes strength to be gentle and kind
LOVE POEM
Published
29th Apr 2020 9:18pm
29th Apr 2020 9:18pm
From Amniotic Porridge to Nuclear War
# visual
#love
#hope
#birth #motherhood
#birth #motherhood
756 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
28th Apr 2020 10:23pm
28th Apr 2020 10:23pm
The Loneliness Of The Mountain Wolf
Lost in the country at night
No land : No landmark
Only outline of black
Solid hills, stretching
Further and beyond.
In this midnight hanging cliché
Every muse reclines tonight
In the barren growl at the border,
Feral fields release damaged fruit.
Dregs from wine bottle are empire
In this orchard of bitte/r/n lips.
All is amplified:
Billowed paper bag is plane thrust
Three owls sleep on my shoulders
Distanced shattering swims abreast;
Ballerinas of glass shards
Dance, cheek to cheek,
Torn muslin...
No land : No landmark
Only outline of black
Solid hills, stretching
Further and beyond.
In this midnight hanging cliché
Every muse reclines tonight
In the barren growl at the border,
Feral fields release damaged fruit.
Dregs from wine bottle are empire
In this orchard of bitte/r/n lips.
All is amplified:
Billowed paper bag is plane thrust
Three owls sleep on my shoulders
Distanced shattering swims abreast;
Ballerinas of glass shards
Dance, cheek to cheek,
Torn muslin...
#love
#hope
#nature #pandemic
#nature #pandemic
352 reads
7 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Apr 2020 9:34pm
27th Apr 2020 9:34pm
'Measured By The Soul'
Bones and bowels of bed relic
Ancestral assassins pour him into
Wells of loneliness, fractured as
Limbs strapped to splints.
Call of the wild lies silent
In the throat of tiger,
Pawed by uglified consumers
Of ‘that which is not deemed normal.’
Hush,
Sit here for a while & eBay bid
For The Elephant Man foreskin.
With eyes sunk into
Catacomb wombs,
He cried.
Arched under carousel
The ladies paraded,
He cried.
Princess arrived in royal carriage
Marriage of...
Ancestral assassins pour him into
Wells of loneliness, fractured as
Limbs strapped to splints.
Call of the wild lies silent
In the throat of tiger,
Pawed by uglified consumers
Of ‘that which is not deemed normal.’
Hush,
Sit here for a while & eBay bid
For The Elephant Man foreskin.
With eyes sunk into
Catacomb wombs,
He cried.
Arched under carousel
The ladies paraded,
He cried.
Princess arrived in royal carriage
Marriage of...
#love
#death
#redemption #HumanRights
#redemption #HumanRights
484 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th Apr 2020 10:34pm
24th Apr 2020 10:34pm
The Knuckle Tattooed Pianist
Portentous pianist broke his fingers, snap
Splits Liszt sonata into boned fragments:
A syncopation of that which is ‘ere, o’er and true.
Snarling kettle spits at bandaged fists
Shotguns of steam pump a pugilist
Upper cut to his solo vision.
Kitchen wall surveyed by a stain map
Drips around bicycle inner tube
Deflated in the greased sink.
Turn left at the bedroom
Follows the stairs to skies of bird song.
Presence of music begins to fade, and
He wonders did it ever exist
Outside metronome rattling in his skull...
Splits Liszt sonata into boned fragments:
A syncopation of that which is ‘ere, o’er and true.
Snarling kettle spits at bandaged fists
Shotguns of steam pump a pugilist
Upper cut to his solo vision.
Kitchen wall surveyed by a stain map
Drips around bicycle inner tube
Deflated in the greased sink.
Turn left at the bedroom
Follows the stairs to skies of bird song.
Presence of music begins to fade, and
He wonders did it ever exist
Outside metronome rattling in his skull...
#love
#universe
#music
358 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th Apr 2020 00:35am
24th Apr 2020 00:35am
she has never sung to the sea
And the death in the sky spoke
Travel light
Away from eternity
~ Toward cradle, empty.
And the sky turned
Different shade of blue.
Mind storms pulled guts from clouds
Gulls ripped throats from ships –
Rained stones swept shale into lungs,
In peril
At edge of each breath.
As silence entered slurried
Mouths of Aberfan children
In the year nineteen-sixty- six.
Furled to each village, a cloud shroud.
What really becomes of the broken hearted?
Broken lips split by the maker of dreams ...
Travel light
Away from eternity
~ Toward cradle, empty.
And the sky turned
Different shade of blue.
Mind storms pulled guts from clouds
Gulls ripped throats from ships –
Rained stones swept shale into lungs,
In peril
At edge of each breath.
As silence entered slurried
Mouths of Aberfan children
In the year nineteen-sixty- six.
Furled to each village, a cloud shroud.
What really becomes of the broken hearted?
Broken lips split by the maker of dreams ...
#love
#sea
#LifeCycle
384 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Apr 2020 10:43pm
22nd Apr 2020 10:43pm
Senyru in Siam
#viz
#love
#LifeCycle
486 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Apr 2020 10:46pm
21st Apr 2020 10:46pm
the boy in the house on the moon*
* Looking through my suitcase labelled Diary Of A Nobody, found some of my young teenage scribbles. Must have been about 13 **
ONCE upon a time
There was a house on the moon.
The boy lived in the house alone
Played football with the stars,
Built dust castles
Which reached beyond the darkness.
When he felt lonely,
He’d sit and watch
The world spinning.
He wished only to be embraced
Held tight by a lover from the sun.
And watched the world spinning.
ONE day
Chasing dreams around craters,
A...
ONCE upon a time
There was a house on the moon.
The boy lived in the house alone
Played football with the stars,
Built dust castles
Which reached beyond the darkness.
When he felt lonely,
He’d sit and watch
The world spinning.
He wished only to be embraced
Held tight by a lover from the sun.
And watched the world spinning.
ONE day
Chasing dreams around craters,
A...
#love
#childhood
#moon
396 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Apr 2020 1:13am
21st Apr 2020 1:13am
Messages On Desks.....
But the hills are alive:
All day you
Could see them
If only
You could look,
You see
Tiles
And scuff marks,
Blocked drains, rain
And vomit.
But the hills
Are alive!
What with?
Whatever sound they have
Is hard to hear – there’s a field
Of force
This side
Of the river.
It’s made of bungalows
And little shops,
Of milk floats
And morning drops,
Of forever yesterday.
Scaling chalk hills
Crumbling crescendo of youth –
In oceanic octaves
We search breaking...
All day you
Could see them
If only
You could look,
You see
Tiles
And scuff marks,
Blocked drains, rain
And vomit.
But the hills
Are alive!
What with?
Whatever sound they have
Is hard to hear – there’s a field
Of force
This side
Of the river.
It’s made of bungalows
And little shops,
Of milk floats
And morning drops,
Of forever yesterday.
Scaling chalk hills
Crumbling crescendo of youth –
In oceanic octaves
We search breaking...
#love
#nature
#memories
420 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Apr 2020 00:10am
20th Apr 2020 00:10am
For Every Bird, A Nest
At the point where harbour wall curved onto sand, we found seagull chicks. Dead. Alison wanted to preserve them. She had seen a BBC documentary. Rows of dead things in jars.
“God is dead,” she said, repeating a slice of the narrative. “Myself is mutilation and separation.”
Under a furnace God-less blue sky, we placed the cadavers into a Woolworths’ plastic bag and carried them home. They were cramped into an old jar, which Alison filled with methylated spirits. The chemicals gnawed at their raw skin and released a flotilla of pinkish shavings. These fizzed to the...
“God is dead,” she said, repeating a slice of the narrative. “Myself is mutilation and separation.”
Under a furnace God-less blue sky, we placed the cadavers into a Woolworths’ plastic bag and carried them home. They were cramped into an old jar, which Alison filled with methylated spirits. The chemicals gnawed at their raw skin and released a flotilla of pinkish shavings. These fizzed to the...
#love
#identity
#universe
#nature
#God
426 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
19th Apr 2020 00:17am
19th Apr 2020 00:17am
blackbird on the wire
Some days,
I like to take a lonesome
Walk around your mind.
Smokey crematorium perfume
Drapes o’er shrouded curtains,
Doors open at 24 frames a second
Lit by lingering vision
He's still in his armchair
Chewing a pipe, lips circling tea cup
As if that why God gave
Him such a kindly mouth.
The aqua urn resembles
Vase on the mantelpiece,
Where flowers whispered
To be set free, to wilt
For the soil to be more than a grave.
Our fable
Is what we are not
& never can be.
Our fable ...
I like to take a lonesome
Walk around your mind.
Smokey crematorium perfume
Drapes o’er shrouded curtains,
Doors open at 24 frames a second
Lit by lingering vision
He's still in his armchair
Chewing a pipe, lips circling tea cup
As if that why God gave
Him such a kindly mouth.
The aqua urn resembles
Vase on the mantelpiece,
Where flowers whispered
To be set free, to wilt
For the soil to be more than a grave.
Our fable
Is what we are not
& never can be.
Our fable ...
#sadness
#love
#death
#rebirth
#MyInspiration
462 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
16th Apr 2020 11:05pm
16th Apr 2020 11:05pm
the last bottle in the world
After dark,
Painted aquarelle with
Raven feathered brush &
Silvered vodka hue -
A life, stilled in silt.
Hung on string of morning dew
Queued ~
Wed canvas wet to womb’ing sun.
It didn’t surprise me
When the sun never rose.
It began raining
Old wives and walking sticks,
The first to the mill always grinds.
What became of the (un)likely lad
Throwing his tattoos around empty beds?
How could I walk
Into life of another,
When an other
Cut my legs to knees.
Colony of ants dragged me...
Painted aquarelle with
Raven feathered brush &
Silvered vodka hue -
A life, stilled in silt.
Hung on string of morning dew
Queued ~
Wed canvas wet to womb’ing sun.
It didn’t surprise me
When the sun never rose.
It began raining
Old wives and walking sticks,
The first to the mill always grinds.
What became of the (un)likely lad
Throwing his tattoos around empty beds?
How could I walk
Into life of another,
When an other
Cut my legs to knees.
Colony of ants dragged me...
#love
#dreams
#memories #SelfReflection
#memories #SelfReflection
417 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Apr 2020 11:37pm
15th Apr 2020 11:37pm
BE LIKE WATER
My wife and I aren’t one and one. We are two halves that make a whole. You have to apply yourself to be a family. Two halves fitted together are more efficient than either half would be alone.” Bruce Lee
Moonburnt elbow pointing to the sea
He crafts clay spiracles
Spires of butterfly breath -
In deeds of our skin home
We learn to dream of being each other.
Return to sleeper,
Crepuscular creases
Of a chaotic ironed day
Float flint'ed arrow head
Into rain-pain shower.
Night was made for loving:
Chandelier skies...
Moonburnt elbow pointing to the sea
He crafts clay spiracles
Spires of butterfly breath -
In deeds of our skin home
We learn to dream of being each other.
Return to sleeper,
Crepuscular creases
Of a chaotic ironed day
Float flint'ed arrow head
Into rain-pain shower.
Night was made for loving:
Chandelier skies...
#love
#water
#spiritual #PopCulture
#spiritual #PopCulture
429 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Strangeways_Rob
