Submissions by blocat
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Comedy writer and also write serious stuff from the heart when I'm in the mood. Without humour life has no real balance and we take ourselves too seriously. I use humour as armour against the slings and arrows of outrageous circumstance. ;-)
DARK POEM
Published
21st Dec 2012 7:07pm
21st Dec 2012 7:07pm
Ruthless People
Cell phone rings the voices says “Pick up your instructions
Central Park third litter bin from south entrance
After two.”
“Ok” he puts the phone away leaves the cafe
Takes a cab but walks the last three blocks
Making sure he’s not being followed
In the park he sits reading two oh one
Takes his newspaper walks to the bin puts it in
Palms the slim envelope under his coat
Walks on appearing unconcerned
Back home he reads assesses his needs
Equipment selected and inspected
Satisfied sigh a drink now T.V. then early to bed
Checks the...
Central Park third litter bin from south entrance
After two.”
“Ok” he puts the phone away leaves the cafe
Takes a cab but walks the last three blocks
Making sure he’s not being followed
In the park he sits reading two oh one
Takes his newspaper walks to the bin puts it in
Palms the slim envelope under his coat
Walks on appearing unconcerned
Back home he reads assesses his needs
Equipment selected and inspected
Satisfied sigh a drink now T.V. then early to bed
Checks the...
805 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
18th Dec 2012 3:10am
18th Dec 2012 3:10am
Christmas Curst
Though he’s young big built and tall
When it comes to work and fighting
He knows three fifths of bugger-all
Still he sees what he‘d call
An easy mark
Walking to the underpass
Wreathed in dark
Approaching the man
He has no real plan
Just thump him
And steal whatever he can
Then ring his dealer buy a fix
Some brown and a stone
Should do the trick
Comes upon the man moving quick
Tapping with his whitened stick
Grabs his shoulder spins him round
Then let’s go a choking sound
The man’s sightless...
When it comes to work and fighting
He knows three fifths of bugger-all
Still he sees what he‘d call
An easy mark
Walking to the underpass
Wreathed in dark
Approaching the man
He has no real plan
Just thump him
And steal whatever he can
Then ring his dealer buy a fix
Some brown and a stone
Should do the trick
Comes upon the man moving quick
Tapping with his whitened stick
Grabs his shoulder spins him round
Then let’s go a choking sound
The man’s sightless...
620 reads
2 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Dec 2012 11:48am
17th Dec 2012 11:48am
The Anglesey Diver
Our boat moves off across the smooth deceptive waters of the dock
Clearing the outer wall sudden shock as we hit the waves
Or the waves hit us like vast unhurried bullies about their task.
Hurling silver spume around our heads as we scar the waters perfect symmetry
With our vandal’s vessel cleaving her perfect form
As though we had a right to disturb her
Forty minutes we watch in awe as engines roar
Dolphins entertain with enchanted dancing
Their perfect ballet riding our bow wave
Like brave stallions prancing
As lances of...
Clearing the outer wall sudden shock as we hit the waves
Or the waves hit us like vast unhurried bullies about their task.
Hurling silver spume around our heads as we scar the waters perfect symmetry
With our vandal’s vessel cleaving her perfect form
As though we had a right to disturb her
Forty minutes we watch in awe as engines roar
Dolphins entertain with enchanted dancing
Their perfect ballet riding our bow wave
Like brave stallions prancing
As lances of...
748 reads
6 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
13th Dec 2012 9:45pm
13th Dec 2012 9:45pm
Dead Right
My local newspaper ran a competition for a very short story the rules were: A limit of 50 words or less, three characters and a clear start middle and end. The first three of us were declared joint winners and published. This was my entry.
Janet really wasn’t comfortable seeing a clairvoyant. ‘But she’s very good’ mum had persisted. ‘Go.’
Madam Theda gazed into her crystal, puzzled. ‘I see a death disrupting your immediate future’ she foretold ominously.
Janet shuddered. ‘A death? Whose death?
Theda made no reply as she slumped from her chair!
Janet really wasn’t comfortable seeing a clairvoyant. ‘But she’s very good’ mum had persisted. ‘Go.’
Madam Theda gazed into her crystal, puzzled. ‘I see a death disrupting your immediate future’ she foretold ominously.
Janet shuddered. ‘A death? Whose death?
Theda made no reply as she slumped from her chair!
780 reads
7 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
9th Dec 2012 1:20am
9th Dec 2012 1:20am
No Man's Land
Christmas Eve 1914 the shelling slowed towards nightfall and by 10 p.m. it has ceased entirely. The quietness was almost unbearable. Standing in the trench almost knee deep in thick gooey slime Private Albert Bowdell, a fresh faced nineteen year old, listened hard but all he could hear was his own heart beat. Christmas day would be a good time for the Germans to launch a surprise attack he thought god I hope they don't. He cupped his hands around his cigarette and drew in the comforting smoke. He was deep in the trench so there was no chance of a sniper seeing him. He exhaled slowly listening...
1254 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
7th Dec 2012 00:24am
7th Dec 2012 00:24am
Pussy Galore
My missus loves me dearly but I don’t give a toss,
I go looking for spare nookie, I show her who’s the boss,
I wander round the streets at night looking for a shag,
There’s usually someone willing, some dirty little slag.
I’ve fathered bastards near and far and I will never quit,
I never go to work you see I just can’t cope with it,
I kip all day when she’s away earning both our keep,
When you screw as much as I do friend you’re gonna need yer sleep.
She must object I hear you say you ungrateful little sod,
But no, she loves me dearly and treats...
I go looking for spare nookie, I show her who’s the boss,
I wander round the streets at night looking for a shag,
There’s usually someone willing, some dirty little slag.
I’ve fathered bastards near and far and I will never quit,
I never go to work you see I just can’t cope with it,
I kip all day when she’s away earning both our keep,
When you screw as much as I do friend you’re gonna need yer sleep.
She must object I hear you say you ungrateful little sod,
But no, she loves me dearly and treats...
835 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
28th Nov 2012 11:02pm
28th Nov 2012 11:02pm
Demons
Flitting cross’t the moon on a stormy night
A soul a-feared in mortal plight
Did witness, or thought he did, black figures flying
In the lightening flash and crashing sound
Heard the hideous screams like the damned a-dying
Trembling remembering half forgot tales of yore
And other ancient lore
Fell he quaking to the ground
Heard a cackling of evil mirth
But held in thrall cannot help rising to draw near,
Mesmerized with fear
And see that which he thought was seen
With trembling knee
Goes forth he
There...
A soul a-feared in mortal plight
Did witness, or thought he did, black figures flying
In the lightening flash and crashing sound
Heard the hideous screams like the damned a-dying
Trembling remembering half forgot tales of yore
And other ancient lore
Fell he quaking to the ground
Heard a cackling of evil mirth
But held in thrall cannot help rising to draw near,
Mesmerized with fear
And see that which he thought was seen
With trembling knee
Goes forth he
There...
762 reads
5 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Nov 2012 11:04am
28th Nov 2012 11:04am
The Burglars' party
This is a bit of a daft one for Christmas!
T’was the night before Christmas and all round the houses,
Not a burglar was thieving, not even the Scouses,
For they’d gone to a party were all booze was free,
Plus crack cocaine, weed and the wild ecstasy,
There were prostitutes there for these villains nefarious,
Everyone catered for gay, straight and various,
As the twelfth hour struck a whistle blew shrill,
And they were surrounded by loads of Old Bill,
‘Got yer you bastards, this was our great plan,’
They cuffed ‘em and stuffed ‘em head...
T’was the night before Christmas and all round the houses,
Not a burglar was thieving, not even the Scouses,
For they’d gone to a party were all booze was free,
Plus crack cocaine, weed and the wild ecstasy,
There were prostitutes there for these villains nefarious,
Everyone catered for gay, straight and various,
As the twelfth hour struck a whistle blew shrill,
And they were surrounded by loads of Old Bill,
‘Got yer you bastards, this was our great plan,’
They cuffed ‘em and stuffed ‘em head...
873 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by blocat
