Submissions by Strangeways_Rob
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
The son and heir of nothing in particular
The Loneliness of the Long Distance Lighthouse
vizlighthouse
#sea
#LifeCycle
#FeelingLost
311 reads
6 Comments
The Slowest Death
viztortoise
#unicorns
221 reads
0 Comments
Boketto Binoculars
Before the bedraggled tide
Drinks herself back to the bar
And my mind nestles in silent stupor,
There will be moments of execution.
And here, aside this wall
That was forest once,
Palimpsest of deep winters remember
Leaves pressed in stone books.
And here with the seaweed & plastic sushi,
Exhalations of sand, lifeboat towing swollen ropes,
With the finished, fleeting sailings,
Thoughts leave me.
.
.
.
.
Is there enough time
To restore damaged furniture
And...
Drinks herself back to the bar
And my mind nestles in silent stupor,
There will be moments of execution.
And here, aside this wall
That was forest once,
Palimpsest of deep winters remember
Leaves pressed in stone books.
And here with the seaweed & plastic sushi,
Exhalations of sand, lifeboat towing swollen ropes,
With the finished, fleeting sailings,
Thoughts leave me.
.
.
.
.
Is there enough time
To restore damaged furniture
And...
#sea
#nature
#LifeCycle
316 reads
11 Comments
Punch-Drunk, Purgatory and Poetry
The pugilist at rest now,
Knuckle soaked bandages
Strap bones to defeated walk.
Lonely hands soft to caress.
Tender is the fight
Between warring lovers,
Entwined limbs maul the spectators.
Glass-jaw breath sp(l)its the canvas.
The bull only rages in nocturnal bouts with his own fists,
She gloves herself to sleep in the reach of night’s wrists.
Shadow days are roped [ when they were contenders ]
Hooked to corners by southpaw grammar
Linguistic gum-shields mute communication,
Tongues drawn along the teeth ...
Knuckle soaked bandages
Strap bones to defeated walk.
Lonely hands soft to caress.
Tender is the fight
Between warring lovers,
Entwined limbs maul the spectators.
Glass-jaw breath sp(l)its the canvas.
The bull only rages in nocturnal bouts with his own fists,
She gloves herself to sleep in the reach of night’s wrists.
Shadow days are roped [ when they were contenders ]
Hooked to corners by southpaw grammar
Linguistic gum-shields mute communication,
Tongues drawn along the teeth ...
#unicorns
217 reads
3 Comments
did i dream you dreamed about me?
Built an altar from drowned
Deck chairs and violin strings,
If the Band can play on through it all
Why can’t your body be pressed against mine?
Love’s last sails held rigor mortis to
The stern words we exchanged on
Bulbous bow of Mermaid Avenue –
We bowdlerised their real meaning.
We should have photo-shopped
Our lonely boats onto Hushaby Mountain
Left tiny presidents of the past
As landladies for our unborn children.
T_y/o_pography of two minds stress the serif font
Where private language is christened, ...
Deck chairs and violin strings,
If the Band can play on through it all
Why can’t your body be pressed against mine?
Love’s last sails held rigor mortis to
The stern words we exchanged on
Bulbous bow of Mermaid Avenue –
We bowdlerised their real meaning.
We should have photo-shopped
Our lonely boats onto Hushaby Mountain
Left tiny presidents of the past
As landladies for our unborn children.
T_y/o_pography of two minds stress the serif font
Where private language is christened, ...
#unicorns
261 reads
2 Comments
This Life, What a Spectacle
vizspec
#death
#universe
#memories #LifeCycle
#memories #LifeCycle
243 reads
2 Comments
The Circus of Death
The circus is a big sky with a circle beneath,
Custard Pi(e) shoved in the face of humility.
In ancient days, they drowned clumsy jugglers.
Maybe it was the track-suited clown
Dishing out hard-luck stories to the
Drunks in The Greedy Pig fun bar.
Scuffed lipstick caught his whiskey breath.
Maybe it was the Neanderthal thug
Ablaze in Adidas and knuckle-duster
Who dropped the clown to the floor.
“Chuckle now, you sad cunt.”
Maybe it was the smell of her skin
As we watched the circus leave town,
Collecting car...
Custard Pi(e) shoved in the face of humility.
In ancient days, they drowned clumsy jugglers.
Maybe it was the track-suited clown
Dishing out hard-luck stories to the
Drunks in The Greedy Pig fun bar.
Scuffed lipstick caught his whiskey breath.
Maybe it was the Neanderthal thug
Ablaze in Adidas and knuckle-duster
Who dropped the clown to the floor.
“Chuckle now, you sad cunt.”
Maybe it was the smell of her skin
As we watched the circus leave town,
Collecting car...
#unicorns
126 reads
0 Comments
Wanted
Missing’ posters have faded to nicotine yellow,
Washed away by bridle paths of rain.
Her curved smile bent the bitter breeze
Towards corrugated clock face.
A minute’s silence lost in Saturday night remains.
A secretary’s life typed off, mid-sentence,
Typecast as an alluring victim,
Grainy CCTV whodunnit:
Francois Hardy cadet cap
Pinot Noir swagger
Hand clutches a silent phone.
Darling, Night Arrived without you…..
Cerise scarf bleeding into bramble void
Umbrella spokes fingerprint the cruellest sky.
...
Washed away by bridle paths of rain.
Her curved smile bent the bitter breeze
Towards corrugated clock face.
A minute’s silence lost in Saturday night remains.
A secretary’s life typed off, mid-sentence,
Typecast as an alluring victim,
Grainy CCTV whodunnit:
Francois Hardy cadet cap
Pinot Noir swagger
Hand clutches a silent phone.
Darling, Night Arrived without you…..
Cerise scarf bleeding into bramble void
Umbrella spokes fingerprint the cruellest sky.
...
#unicorns
166 reads
4 Comments
On Snowdonia, We Sat Down and Wept
This is the land
Dethroned Tolkein’s imagination
From soulless suburban burden.
This is the land
Dead poets track the railed rosaries
Of quarrymen’s blunted prayers.
Primitive aching jaw, unbraced steel,
Mouths two thousand years of history,
Mother tongue sucks fossils
Then spits them out.
Last snow of spring tiles the light,
Clay roofs once branched sky walls
As airborne feathers fear the fall.
In pendwmpian, we learn to fly.
Birthplace of phantoms, broken spectres,
Something beautifully...
Dethroned Tolkein’s imagination
From soulless suburban burden.
This is the land
Dead poets track the railed rosaries
Of quarrymen’s blunted prayers.
Primitive aching jaw, unbraced steel,
Mouths two thousand years of history,
Mother tongue sucks fossils
Then spits them out.
Last snow of spring tiles the light,
Clay roofs once branched sky walls
As airborne feathers fear the fall.
In pendwmpian, we learn to fly.
Birthplace of phantoms, broken spectres,
Something beautifully...
#beauty
#nature
#LifeCycle
287 reads
7 Comments
Listening to a Man, Telling the Sky
vizcomp
#love
#death
#universe
285 reads
0 Comments
Suitcases of Time
Dull ensemble, clouds andante
Loquacious seagulls,
Unshelled sun tightropes
Closed high windows.
Eva’s pomade breached the Promenade
Her breeze sterilised Sydney’s reading,
Grey-suited gentlemen tore
The heat with handkerchiefs.
Small child’s legs wrestled a donkey
Her fall was a shattering sleet of stone,
On edge of pier, pebble fleets
Named the sea a stifled silence.
The breakers broke ancient waters,
A poet was birthed on lips of a first kiss,
Photograph shy, marital bed negatives
Exposed dark...
Loquacious seagulls,
Unshelled sun tightropes
Closed high windows.
Eva’s pomade breached the Promenade
Her breeze sterilised Sydney’s reading,
Grey-suited gentlemen tore
The heat with handkerchiefs.
Small child’s legs wrestled a donkey
Her fall was a shattering sleet of stone,
On edge of pier, pebble fleets
Named the sea a stifled silence.
The breakers broke ancient waters,
A poet was birthed on lips of a first kiss,
Photograph shy, marital bed negatives
Exposed dark...
#unicorns
234 reads
7 Comments
How Great Thou Art
It’s all self-portrait
Our inner self we painting,
All made up
The affairs, trains on platforms,
Love letters, bruised fruit in bowls,
Self-portrait is all we are?
In the hexagon of mirrors of the art gallery cafe
I could see from six different angles the way
Your nipples looked through that thin red cotton top.
Eggshell writs clutched a portfolio case
Lipstick on the tip of the porcelain cigarette,
Spoke of lovers smoked in small rooms.
Slender was our first conversation
Which drew mascara under your mystery. ...
Our inner self we painting,
All made up
The affairs, trains on platforms,
Love letters, bruised fruit in bowls,
Self-portrait is all we are?
In the hexagon of mirrors of the art gallery cafe
I could see from six different angles the way
Your nipples looked through that thin red cotton top.
Eggshell writs clutched a portfolio case
Lipstick on the tip of the porcelain cigarette,
Spoke of lovers smoked in small rooms.
Slender was our first conversation
Which drew mascara under your mystery. ...
#unicorns
284 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Strangeways_Rob