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. ;-)
EROTIC POEM
Published
12th Jan 2017 00:06am
12th Jan 2017 00:06am
Eve
She slid upon me seeking vengeance
For the seduction of the serpent
Original sin that left her outcast
She who was with Adam then
Moving through mists of time
She who became Salome, Cleopatra, Helen
And a thousand others throughout the ages
Seducing fools and sages alike
The Borgia’s knew Lucretia well
A dark brooding besom
Now she is upon me riding, chiding
Faster lover, harder, deeper
Like some grim reaper
Devouring me whole
Torturing body, perverting soul
I scream through the pleasure/horror dream
She sighs,...
For the seduction of the serpent
Original sin that left her outcast
She who was with Adam then
Moving through mists of time
She who became Salome, Cleopatra, Helen
And a thousand others throughout the ages
Seducing fools and sages alike
The Borgia’s knew Lucretia well
A dark brooding besom
Now she is upon me riding, chiding
Faster lover, harder, deeper
Like some grim reaper
Devouring me whole
Torturing body, perverting soul
I scream through the pleasure/horror dream
She sighs,...
746 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Jan 2017 11:37pm
9th Jan 2017 11:37pm
Lost Love
I looked for you where the sun had set, you were not there
I looked for you where the moon rose our love to share
I looked for you where galaxies spun
But you, my love, had gone
I looked for you where the flowers grew
Finding nothing but the silvered dew
I found in the graveyard your name upon a stone
I wept in bitter silence alone, alas alone
I looked for you where the moon rose our love to share
I looked for you where galaxies spun
But you, my love, had gone
I looked for you where the flowers grew
Finding nothing but the silvered dew
I found in the graveyard your name upon a stone
I wept in bitter silence alone, alas alone
622 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
6th Jan 2017 7:08pm
6th Jan 2017 7:08pm
The Colour of Courage
Written for a competition with the theme 'courage' and has to be set in the North West of England with references to the historical past. Word limit 1200. The comp is in the Lancashire Magazine.
She had barely opened the pub when the two half drunk American airmen came in. The Lieutenants from Burtonwood air base swaggered across to a table by the window. ‘Hey, let’s have a couple of beers over here’ the one wearing the expensive leather jacket and dark sunglasses yelled.
Margot hated arrogance ‘drinks are served at the bar, sir.’
‘That so?’ Lieutenant...
She had barely opened the pub when the two half drunk American airmen came in. The Lieutenants from Burtonwood air base swaggered across to a table by the window. ‘Hey, let’s have a couple of beers over here’ the one wearing the expensive leather jacket and dark sunglasses yelled.
Margot hated arrogance ‘drinks are served at the bar, sir.’
‘That so?’ Lieutenant...
763 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
30th Nov 2016 5:25pm
30th Nov 2016 5:25pm
A Cantankerous Old Git
The old man shuffled into the dark side street. He didn’t like it but it was the only way to his flat. He saw a dark shadow detach itself from the deeper gloom of a derelict shop doorway. The shadow turned into a swaggering youth. His way barred the old man stopped. The youth held out his hand ‘give.’
‘Got nowt lad. ’
The young man stepped in to within two feet. The old man sensed rather than saw the lightening movement and heard the vicious click of a flick knife.
Albert Jackson eyed the youth calmly. At seventy eight, he had recently lost his beloved wife of...
‘Got nowt lad. ’
The young man stepped in to within two feet. The old man sensed rather than saw the lightening movement and heard the vicious click of a flick knife.
Albert Jackson eyed the youth calmly. At seventy eight, he had recently lost his beloved wife of...
888 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
26th Nov 2016 00:20am
26th Nov 2016 00:20am
A Good Rogering
Had a drink last night
Woolly head
Door bell rings
‘Oh go away’ I said
To my empty room
It’s too bloody soon
It rings again, sodding pain
I go
There she stood lookin’ good
‘Hello’ said I picking goo from my eye
‘Hi’ she said a smiling, simpering, beguiling
‘I know you haven’t seen me for years
I’m Mary’s daughter, all grown up’
Which Mary would that be? I thought
Was she the daughter of someone I’d taught?
...
Woolly head
Door bell rings
‘Oh go away’ I said
To my empty room
It’s too bloody soon
It rings again, sodding pain
I go
There she stood lookin’ good
‘Hello’ said I picking goo from my eye
‘Hi’ she said a smiling, simpering, beguiling
‘I know you haven’t seen me for years
I’m Mary’s daughter, all grown up’
Which Mary would that be? I thought
Was she the daughter of someone I’d taught?
...
733 reads
2 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
15th Nov 2016 11:43pm
15th Nov 2016 11:43pm
The Nutter & Me
As the bus ground its way slowly through the rush hour traffic I sat nursing my dark thoughts. Would I ever get my bloody novel finished? I’d had people on my back for a month now wanting this changed or that chapter re-written. I couldn’t even see through the sodding windows, they were all steamed up. My shirt was sticking to me, it had the texture of a used condom, making me shiver.
Greater Manchester Transport had done its worst yet again. Forty minutes I'd waited at the shelterless bus stop in the rain, not a taxi to be had. Then, of course, two buses turned up at once. I boarded...
Greater Manchester Transport had done its worst yet again. Forty minutes I'd waited at the shelterless bus stop in the rain, not a taxi to be had. Then, of course, two buses turned up at once. I boarded...
700 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Nov 2016 00:23am
12th Nov 2016 00:23am
Requiem for the Living
Dedicated to my fellow veterans who fought in the Borneo wars 1962-1966
And as they stand hymn book in hand
Around memorial stone
Each part of the congregation
Yet each of them alone
Each holding poignant memories
Of comrades they once knew
Their own unique experience
Memories clear and true
Theirs was just a small war
No charging in great mass
But creeping around from tree to tree
Or wading through morass
Their bodies hung with leeches
...
And as they stand hymn book in hand
Around memorial stone
Each part of the congregation
Yet each of them alone
Each holding poignant memories
Of comrades they once knew
Their own unique experience
Memories clear and true
Theirs was just a small war
No charging in great mass
But creeping around from tree to tree
Or wading through morass
Their bodies hung with leeches
...
569 reads
0 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
8th Nov 2016 12:19pm
8th Nov 2016 12:19pm
Sly Seduction
I thought I’d try a little seduction
I knew it would cause a bloody ruction
‘Not in the mood’ I was told
She turned away her face was cold
So I persisted (Like you do)
For I was up for a little ‘Yahoo’
‘Aw, ‘c’mon’ I wheedling said
Nuzzling up beside her head
What part of no do you not understand?
With scowling face she raised her hand
Just the first two letters I quipped grinning
She slapped me hard, good sign, I’m winning
So I changed my tactics, crafty flirt
Slipped my hand beneath her skirt
All I got was another slap...
I knew it would cause a bloody ruction
‘Not in the mood’ I was told
She turned away her face was cold
So I persisted (Like you do)
For I was up for a little ‘Yahoo’
‘Aw, ‘c’mon’ I wheedling said
Nuzzling up beside her head
What part of no do you not understand?
With scowling face she raised her hand
Just the first two letters I quipped grinning
She slapped me hard, good sign, I’m winning
So I changed my tactics, crafty flirt
Slipped my hand beneath her skirt
All I got was another slap...
689 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
31st Oct 2016 1:04am
31st Oct 2016 1:04am
Screwing the Farmer's Daughter
If you're screwing a farmer's daughter
You'd better learn to run,
If you're going to bonk his missus
You'd better buy a gun
This poor guy was a bit too slow
And although you sneer and scoff
The farmer didn't arse about
When he told him to FORK OFF!
You'd better learn to run,
If you're going to bonk his missus
You'd better buy a gun
This poor guy was a bit too slow
And although you sneer and scoff
The farmer didn't arse about
When he told him to FORK OFF!
2023 reads
5 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
17th Oct 2016 00:21am
17th Oct 2016 00:21am
Suckers All
God but these young girls are so bloody gullible he thought. You can spin ‘em any old yarn and they’ll swallow it. This would be his sixth this year and it was only May. Suckers all of ‘em.
He hit the keyboard again ‘So, you up for a meet then?’
‘Yeah, I reckon, I’ll PM yer tomoz.’
‘Cool.’ ‘Night then.’
He knew she’d agree they always did. He looked at Google Earth planning the location. It looked foolproof. He’d check it out in the morning though one can’t be too careful these days he thought. He’d make sure of an escape route should it not go plan. He...
He hit the keyboard again ‘So, you up for a meet then?’
‘Yeah, I reckon, I’ll PM yer tomoz.’
‘Cool.’ ‘Night then.’
He knew she’d agree they always did. He looked at Google Earth planning the location. It looked foolproof. He’d check it out in the morning though one can’t be too careful these days he thought. He’d make sure of an escape route should it not go plan. He...
643 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
13th Oct 2016 6:09pm
13th Oct 2016 6:09pm
Muse Thief
I thought I’d write today
Something inspired, something bright
To shimmer, catch the light
But all that came sounded trite
The day to enhance, perchance
To bring others a moment’s joy
So wit and skill employ
But, to annoy,
Nothing came, only blame
You’ve lost your touch lame brain
Shame
But then gazing at the ceiling
I thought I ought
To write about this feeling
Muse stealing
Who does it?
What demon steals the semen?
Of creativity
Replaces it with negativity?
Does it enter in...
Something inspired, something bright
To shimmer, catch the light
But all that came sounded trite
The day to enhance, perchance
To bring others a moment’s joy
So wit and skill employ
But, to annoy,
Nothing came, only blame
You’ve lost your touch lame brain
Shame
But then gazing at the ceiling
I thought I ought
To write about this feeling
Muse stealing
Who does it?
What demon steals the semen?
Of creativity
Replaces it with negativity?
Does it enter in...
707 reads
11 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
26th Sep 2016 5:42pm
26th Sep 2016 5:42pm
The Old Prison Yard
This is the spot where those who were not
Good people are to be found
Buried none too deep they uneasily sleep
In unconsecrated ground
Their spirits unbound they wander around
The old prison yard where they lie
They lost life and hope at the end of a rope
All were reluctant to die
Though the prison’s long gone their presence lives on
Pervading the very air
They'll wail and scream around Halloween
If you go there then stranger beware
Be warned do not dwell near those gates to hell
Or your soul will surely be...
Good people are to be found
Buried none too deep they uneasily sleep
In unconsecrated ground
Their spirits unbound they wander around
The old prison yard where they lie
They lost life and hope at the end of a rope
All were reluctant to die
Though the prison’s long gone their presence lives on
Pervading the very air
They'll wail and scream around Halloween
If you go there then stranger beware
Be warned do not dwell near those gates to hell
Or your soul will surely be...
#dark
#Halloween
695 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by blocat
