Fictional Prose
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Short stories and chapters from books and novels
Lozzamus
Poem Published
24th Feb 2025 7:39pm
24th Feb 2025 7:39pm
Secrets - The Night He Fled
Late on Sunday night, I fix a mug of coffee and update the secret journal. I'm not a psychologist. I don't know why people block out memories or reinvent them or conveniently stash them away in the hope of forgetting, but I've been remembering more stuff this evening – stuff to do with Gordon as a boy and an incident on the estate that caused tension between his parents and mine. Meeting up with Gordon again has somehow touched on this other stuff.
New Entry:
I'm not sure when the event in question occurred, perhaps a year before the murder, but definitely in the middle of a...
New Entry:
I'm not sure when the event in question occurred, perhaps a year before the murder, but definitely in the middle of a...
#family
#friendship
#grief
#memories
#mystery
77 reads
0 Comments
Liziantus-Marantus
Poem Published
22nd Feb 2025 10:53am
22nd Feb 2025 10:53am
My Doll
There is a comfort I once used to seek.
From a time I wasn't even able to speak.
It was a doll with beady eyes,her dress pink.
I still remember her black,beady eyes.
And the loads of playing,fantasize.
It had the silkiest,blonde hair.
And her makeup was very fair.
When I was little,I held dear.
And my intentions,attachement towards it was clear.
I still remember the day I received it for my birthday.
My eyes lit up in surprise.
I named her Annabelle,for her beady eyes.
The years passed,and the days went by. ...
From a time I wasn't even able to speak.
It was a doll with beady eyes,her dress pink.
I still remember her black,beady eyes.
And the loads of playing,fantasize.
It had the silkiest,blonde hair.
And her makeup was very fair.
When I was little,I held dear.
And my intentions,attachement towards it was clear.
I still remember the day I received it for my birthday.
My eyes lit up in surprise.
I named her Annabelle,for her beady eyes.
The years passed,and the days went by. ...
#hope
#memories
#nostalgia #uplifting
#nostalgia #uplifting
47 reads
0 Comments
Liziantus-Marantus
Poem Published
21st Feb 2025 10:56am
21st Feb 2025 10:56am
Heart Of Gold
What makes a heart of gold?
It doesn't matter are you young or old.
Whether you are shy or bold.
Maybe it's when you don't believe all the stories you are told.
And when kindness ,patience through you unfold.
A golden heart is a rare sight.
You can find it often within the guiding light.
Walking through the forest at night.
You catch a shiny gleam.
Gold and bright,like once upon a dream.
A heart of gold is not always what it seem.
Because you can't see it on the outside.
You have to peek through.
Through...
It doesn't matter are you young or old.
Whether you are shy or bold.
Maybe it's when you don't believe all the stories you are told.
And when kindness ,patience through you unfold.
A golden heart is a rare sight.
You can find it often within the guiding light.
Walking through the forest at night.
You catch a shiny gleam.
Gold and bright,like once upon a dream.
A heart of gold is not always what it seem.
Because you can't see it on the outside.
You have to peek through.
Through...
#happiness
#hope
#kindness
#motivational
#uplifting
98 reads
0 Comments
Lozzamus
Poem Published
17th Feb 2025 10:07pm
17th Feb 2025 10:07pm
Secrets - The Lost Friend
They say I muttered two words when I got back to the estate car park on the Bank Holiday Monday: Vince Macarthur.
I'd arrived without my most prized possession: my bike. You hadn't returned at all. And I'd lied, hadn't I? Told your mum we were going to the local park but sneaked off to Whaley Hill. Everyone was worried because they knew I wouldn't have left my bike on Whaley Hill or abandoned you.
They say your mum became hysterical, especially when she realised I'd lied. Neighbours drove to Whaley Hill, but friends prevented your mum from going. It's a good job they...
I'd arrived without my most prized possession: my bike. You hadn't returned at all. And I'd lied, hadn't I? Told your mum we were going to the local park but sneaked off to Whaley Hill. Everyone was worried because they knew I wouldn't have left my bike on Whaley Hill or abandoned you.
They say your mum became hysterical, especially when she realised I'd lied. Neighbours drove to Whaley Hill, but friends prevented your mum from going. It's a good job they...
#BestFriend
#death
#grief #mystery
#grief #mystery
79 reads
0 Comments
Cobra1101
Poem Published
16th Feb 2025 11:16pm
16th Feb 2025 11:16pm
Blind anger
Blind Anger..
I don’t like you for no reason, I know I’m dead wrong, I’m mad with myself so I need someone like you to take it out on,
See you the type person that’s been hurt before too, like you the type person go to work and come back home, that get hurt before two,
Two, p.m that is, like you ain’t been through enough, like you got a million tucked, like your daily life battles do not get rough,
Like I’m right for this, you wrong for that, looking for what you did to me, I just still can’t name that yet,
I know you did something,...
I don’t like you for no reason, I know I’m dead wrong, I’m mad with myself so I need someone like you to take it out on,
See you the type person that’s been hurt before too, like you the type person go to work and come back home, that get hurt before two,
Two, p.m that is, like you ain’t been through enough, like you got a million tucked, like your daily life battles do not get rough,
Like I’m right for this, you wrong for that, looking for what you did to me, I just still can’t name that yet,
I know you did something,...
#love
#ShortStory
85 reads
0 Comments
asbr808
Anthony R
Anthony R
Poem Published
15th Feb 2025 6:50pm
15th Feb 2025 6:50pm
Lab Yrinth
Enclosed in a maze,
The rat is lost in confinement
He patterns out the bait and route
A switch flicks in his head as he catches
Sight of the world through a crack in the wall
He does not really register at first
And continues to chase the artificial scent
Of cloying comfort and sleepy routine
Going around and around
One day he wakes
And feels less drive to seek the bait
And wants to sniff out the truth
He presses a paw against the crack
And the wall comes down with ease
And the light hurts his eyes
But he can taste...
The rat is lost in confinement
He patterns out the bait and route
A switch flicks in his head as he catches
Sight of the world through a crack in the wall
He does not really register at first
And continues to chase the artificial scent
Of cloying comfort and sleepy routine
Going around and around
One day he wakes
And feels less drive to seek the bait
And wants to sniff out the truth
He presses a paw against the crack
And the wall comes down with ease
And the light hurts his eyes
But he can taste...
#FeelingLost
#learning
88 reads
3 Comments
Mercurial
Poem Published
15th Feb 2025 8:56am
15th Feb 2025 8:56am
The Child's Father
The overwhelming power of the senses,
Strangling in a way that’s sweet,
The unseen father watching behind the scenes,
Enjoying his child playing with its toys still.
A dog in child’s clothing,
Clingy and needy of its master’s attentions,
With a cat’s eyes of mercy,
The father got caught in the web.
The child is the father,
The father is the child,
Usurping thrones like yin and yang,
But the father in the child was stronger.
After of eons of wrestling,
The child tricked the father,
To see the opposite...
Strangling in a way that’s sweet,
The unseen father watching behind the scenes,
Enjoying his child playing with its toys still.
A dog in child’s clothing,
Clingy and needy of its master’s attentions,
With a cat’s eyes of mercy,
The father got caught in the web.
The child is the father,
The father is the child,
Usurping thrones like yin and yang,
But the father in the child was stronger.
After of eons of wrestling,
The child tricked the father,
To see the opposite...
#confessional
#mystery
#ShortStory
68 reads
0 Comments
Liziantus-Marantus
Poem Published
14th Feb 2025 11:03am
14th Feb 2025 11:03am
Things I Love
I love the smell of fresh wind.
And the colors of red roses.
I love the feeling of happiness.
That not always decomposes.
A memory I had long ago.
That to this day I don't feel foul.
I love the taste of sweet cheesecake.
A cup of juice and a breakfast pancake.
I love the way the wind blows.
The way the leaves rustle.
And the night sky shows.
Maybe his laughter or smile.
That you can listen for a while.
I love the way my pen feels in my hand when I write my poems.
Or with the feather of a hen.
...
And the colors of red roses.
I love the feeling of happiness.
That not always decomposes.
A memory I had long ago.
That to this day I don't feel foul.
I love the taste of sweet cheesecake.
A cup of juice and a breakfast pancake.
I love the way the wind blows.
The way the leaves rustle.
And the night sky shows.
Maybe his laughter or smile.
That you can listen for a while.
I love the way my pen feels in my hand when I write my poems.
Or with the feather of a hen.
...
#motivational
#uplifting
#ValentinesDay
84 reads
0 Comments
Liziantus-Marantus
Poem Published
13th Feb 2025 10:53am
13th Feb 2025 10:53am
Childhood Tales
Do you remember the stories we were told as kids?
About evil monsters and witches.
Vile characters with wounds and stitches.
When we all sat near the fire.
And we listened to our parents tell us the stories.
Like the story of an evil witch.
That used to be a normal human like all of us,
The story of an evil monster.
Who wasn't actually always one.
It used to be a pure creature,driven to do evil by pain.
By trauma or a painful stain.
The way people treated him for it.
And the names they would give it.
And...
About evil monsters and witches.
Vile characters with wounds and stitches.
When we all sat near the fire.
And we listened to our parents tell us the stories.
Like the story of an evil witch.
That used to be a normal human like all of us,
The story of an evil monster.
Who wasn't actually always one.
It used to be a pure creature,driven to do evil by pain.
By trauma or a painful stain.
The way people treated him for it.
And the names they would give it.
And...
#hope
#motivational
#philosophical #uplifting
#philosophical #uplifting
49 reads
0 Comments
Lozzamus
Poem Published
12th Feb 2025 10:41pm
12th Feb 2025 10:41pm
Secrets - A Boy's Longing For Mum
Email to Lana Holmes
Sent Sunday 14 September
Sender: Robert Holmes (Reply)
Subject: The Puppy
Message: Dad and Aunty Mel took me to a farm today. We might be getting a puppy. I'm going to call it Freddy. Freddy is a real person who lives in The Factory. He writes poetry. He's got long white hair and he looks like an old wizard. I think he's brilliant. Dad and Aunty Mel got talking to him yesterday and he's really funny. He said he's going to teach me to play harmonica. He wants us all to go to his flat for buttered crumpets and tea. I'm very excited about...
Sent Sunday 14 September
Sender: Robert Holmes (Reply)
Subject: The Puppy
Message: Dad and Aunty Mel took me to a farm today. We might be getting a puppy. I'm going to call it Freddy. Freddy is a real person who lives in The Factory. He writes poetry. He's got long white hair and he looks like an old wizard. I think he's brilliant. Dad and Aunty Mel got talking to him yesterday and he's really funny. He said he's going to teach me to play harmonica. He wants us all to go to his flat for buttered crumpets and tea. I'm very excited about...
#family
#mystery
65 reads
0 Comments
Poetic_Seduction
Poem Published
11th Feb 2025 8:20pm
11th Feb 2025 8:20pm
Surprise! Part 3 (Next Morning)
#dirty
#erotic
#family
#orgasm
#sex
140 reads
2 Comments
Liziantus-Marantus
Poem Published
10th Feb 2025 11:11am
10th Feb 2025 11:11am
Once Upon A Dream
I had a dream the other day.
It was about a cat from a dimension far away.
The cat was magical and true.
It had purple fur,too.
The cat had nine eyes.
With yellow,rich color.
It floats,not flies.
And her fur shines.
The name of the breed was certainly unique.
""Purple ,arabic cat"".
The breed was certainly magical.
And something from a story-like.
The cat appeared in front of me with a friendly face.
And purred,rubbing its face onto my legs.
Maybe the cat was a magical being. ...
It was about a cat from a dimension far away.
The cat was magical and true.
It had purple fur,too.
The cat had nine eyes.
With yellow,rich color.
It floats,not flies.
And her fur shines.
The name of the breed was certainly unique.
""Purple ,arabic cat"".
The breed was certainly magical.
And something from a story-like.
The cat appeared in front of me with a friendly face.
And purred,rubbing its face onto my legs.
Maybe the cat was a magical being. ...
#dreams
#hope
#motivational #uplifting
#motivational #uplifting
79 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Fictional Prose: Short Stories and Chapters from Books and Novels (Page 4)
