deepundergroundpoetry.com
Teenage Kicks (see Author's Note)
The Village Idiot
6 children in the village, one went missing
5 children in the village, one went missing
4 children in the village, one went missing
3 children in the village, one went missing
2 children in the village, one went missing
1 child in the village and her parents went missing.
Shadow Lands
The old man had lived here
His shadow his only friend.
He befriended the children,
Five year olds in the rafters
Dead soldiers in the loft.
We were warned not to go there
Our parents kept us in.
Now eight years gone
Forgotten all,
I slammed the door and made for home.
The shadow watched,
Then joined his friend.
6 children in the village, one went missing
5 children in the village, one went missing
4 children in the village, one went missing
3 children in the village, one went missing
2 children in the village, one went missing
1 child in the village and her parents went missing.
Shadow Lands
The old man had lived here
His shadow his only friend.
He befriended the children,
Five year olds in the rafters
Dead soldiers in the loft.
We were warned not to go there
Our parents kept us in.
Now eight years gone
Forgotten all,
I slammed the door and made for home.
The shadow watched,
Then joined his friend.
Published 10th Oct 2022
Author's Note
ERULGCT 181. In my red box of memories, found an old school book with some young musings. Must have been 14. Surreal. Who wants to grow up? Who wants to go back?
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 2
reads 166
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.
10th Oct 2022 7:33pm
The second poem is actually a pretty good standalone piece for a 14-year-old. Haunting and melancholic. The first feels like an Edward Gorey rhyme.
When I was a teenager I improvised a poem in a school workbook, about a gynaecologist who gets his head stuck you-can-guess-where. Some bastard handed it in and I got a lecture from the head of year, who said “I’m guessing you didn’t write this yourself.” Cheeky fucker.
When I was a teenager I improvised a poem in a school workbook, about a gynaecologist who gets his head stuck you-can-guess-where. Some bastard handed it in and I got a lecture from the head of year, who said “I’m guessing you didn’t write this yourself.” Cheeky fucker.
10th Oct 2022 10:00pm
Diolch. Lol. Who was the gyno's patient? Slack Alice?
My mind has always drifted into the dark. It's all those letters & notebooks which have been lost to time (or, more precisely, the removal man) which cause regret.
My mind has always drifted into the dark. It's all those letters & notebooks which have been lost to time (or, more precisely, the removal man) which cause regret.
