Non-Fiction Prose
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Non-poetic writing including diary extracts, journal entries, letters, essays and art
BrookeAlynn
Poem Published
30th Jun 2022 10:11pm
30th Jun 2022 10:11pm
Dirt Roads And Broken Poles
You, and your clouds creating fog, yeah...
You and your hurt, you just dont care.
That's the way of the kings and queens of the indoctrination right?
Night crawlers are best for fishing.
I love to fish, long evenings on the rivers edge, mostly never catching anything but lies.
I'm good at suppressing and converting into humble and kind. But just so you know, my legs know how to walk away, and my heart knows how to build walls, and my hurt knows how to cope.
LMAO....no one!!!
You and your hurt, you just dont care.
That's the way of the kings and queens of the indoctrination right?
Night crawlers are best for fishing.
I love to fish, long evenings on the rivers edge, mostly never catching anything but lies.
I'm good at suppressing and converting into humble and kind. But just so you know, my legs know how to walk away, and my heart knows how to build walls, and my hurt knows how to cope.
LMAO....no one!!!
#emotions
26 reads
Lozzamus
Poem Published
30th Jun 2022 9:57pm
30th Jun 2022 9:57pm
I Escaped, But Only Just - Part 6: Family Tension
The daily bus journeys to school were beginning to prove tiring, so my parents moved home, closer to the school. A couple of streets away from the new house stood the tallest factory chimney in Europe. Further on was a secluded muddy trail that weaved its way through playing fields, back onto the main road – ideal for walking the dog. The hill on the opposite side of the main road led up to a grass summit with a pylon visible from our backyard. In the other direction, a pathway rose up another hill with cottages set back from the lane, leading to several miles of fields and farms, hemmed in...
#childhood
#family
#misunderstood
32 reads
2 Comments
BrookeAlynn
Poem Published
30th Jun 2022 9:38pm
30th Jun 2022 9:38pm
Ode to an Ass!
You're welcome, not because I'm polite, but because I just dont care anymore. Donkeys always show their ass.
#forgiveness
29 reads
Lozzamus
Poem Published
29th Jun 2022 9:15pm
29th Jun 2022 9:15pm
I Escaped, But Only Just - Part 5: Aloof From My Peers
I attended a Jewish High school in the north of England that bore a vague resemblance to the kids from the Beverly Hills. Our family weren’t rich - and therefore, I didn’t belong socially. In time, I would face a new issue that marked me as different: labels I hadn’t paid attention to before. Remedial. Autistic. Slow. Educationally Subnormal.
The first day passed uneventfully, though, and I found myself looking forward to going back the next day. Carrying a briefcase of my own gave me a strong sense of pride and I soon got used to the routine of making my way to a different...
The first day passed uneventfully, though, and I found myself looking forward to going back the next day. Carrying a briefcase of my own gave me a strong sense of pride and I soon got used to the routine of making my way to a different...
#rejection
#childhood
#school #memories
#school #memories
39 reads
4 Comments
Kou_Indigo
Poem Published
29th Jun 2022 3:45am
29th Jun 2022 3:45am
The Demon Emperor of Rome: Part Two
#dark
#ShortStory
#memories
#historical
#epic
11 reads
2 Comments
Kou_Indigo
Poem Published
29th Jun 2022 3:38am
29th Jun 2022 3:38am
The Demon Emperor of Rome: Part One
#dark
#ShortStory
#memories
#historical
#epic
16 reads
0 Comments
Lozzamus
Poem Published
28th Jun 2022 8:21pm
28th Jun 2022 8:21pm
I Escaped, But Only Just - Part 4: Bad Behaviour
Four years to your Barmitzvah,’ people would say upon asking my age. I’d turned nine - meaning I had four years to get ready. A Barmitzvah takes place when a Jewish boy reaches thirteen. It’s a sort of coming of age, a reading of the Torah in front of the community – a debut, for want of a better word. Some boys fear messing up, but that hardly ever happens.
Twice a week after school, and on Sundays mornings, my parents took Robin and I to Cheder classes. At Cheder, I learnt the Hebrew alphabet. I learnt that the word sefer meant book and that the word kelev meant dog. That a...
Twice a week after school, and on Sundays mornings, my parents took Robin and I to Cheder classes. At Cheder, I learnt the Hebrew alphabet. I learnt that the word sefer meant book and that the word kelev meant dog. That a...
#rejection
#childhood
#family #memories
#family #memories
39 reads
4 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
27th Jun 2022 5:17pm
27th Jun 2022 5:17pm
My Culture Fix - II
My favourite author or book
Flannery O'Connor for author, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke for book.
The book I’m reading
The Woods Are Dark by Richard Laymon, in the restored and uncut edition by the late author's daughter, Kelly. Laymon was a "splatterpunk" author, in his case essentially meaning that his books are extremely trashy, extremely nasty, non-literary horror. Comparable to splatter films, basically, like Nightmares in a Damaged Brain, Cannibal Holocaust, et al. I enjoy them because I get all the fun of a silly, shocking story without having...
Flannery O'Connor for author, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke for book.
The book I’m reading
The Woods Are Dark by Richard Laymon, in the restored and uncut edition by the late author's daughter, Kelly. Laymon was a "splatterpunk" author, in his case essentially meaning that his books are extremely trashy, extremely nasty, non-literary horror. Comparable to splatter films, basically, like Nightmares in a Damaged Brain, Cannibal Holocaust, et al. I enjoy them because I get all the fun of a silly, shocking story without having...
#culture
34 reads
0 Comments
Particles_Of_HerII
Poem Published
27th Jun 2022 12:49pm
27th Jun 2022 12:49pm
for small lifetimes we carry beneath
It's not all about "willingness", it's about capacity
she had both with a triboelectric heart tethered to vines
this man's manna remember, remembers her aeonian spillage of selcouth beauty -like a plural ever present, ever near.
effortlessly it was to reciprocate firm devotion for
her ruthless tenderness as eyes of rain drench
me from above
and I did not refrain
she had both with a triboelectric heart tethered to vines
this man's manna remember, remembers her aeonian spillage of selcouth beauty -like a plural ever present, ever near.
effortlessly it was to reciprocate firm devotion for
her ruthless tenderness as eyes of rain drench
me from above
and I did not refrain
#love
#TruthOfLife
#honesty
#philosophical
#sexy
100 reads
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
26th Jun 2022 5:25pm
26th Jun 2022 5:25pm
Literary Criticism
A couple of brief reflections,
one prosaic, one poetic.
(Both pathetic!)
(adapted from a couple of social media comments)
I grew up in a deprived seaside area, a town where all the county councils dumped their human refuse, so to speak, meaning in effect that we had a lot of mercenaries, untreated psychiatric patients, and even sexual offenders wandering around. The sort of place where you’d sit in McDonald’s and the mothers in the next booth would point at a man walking past and say “he’s a paedo”, or “he deals drugs.”
...
one prosaic, one poetic.
(Both pathetic!)
(adapted from a couple of social media comments)
I grew up in a deprived seaside area, a town where all the county councils dumped their human refuse, so to speak, meaning in effect that we had a lot of mercenaries, untreated psychiatric patients, and even sexual offenders wandering around. The sort of place where you’d sit in McDonald’s and the mothers in the next booth would point at a man walking past and say “he’s a paedo”, or “he deals drugs.”
...
#school
#books
#college
44 reads
2 Comments
Rianne
Poem Published
26th Jun 2022 11:03am
26th Jun 2022 11:03am
Navigation of cliffs
Rocks are our elders, the oldest natural material, the spirit of rock never forgets but helps us to remember." Sandra Ingerman
Closer to the rocks I have never been. At the back of my house there is part of the
natural landscape which is hills and cliffy rocky edges. It is there where I sit often.
Many a time I have received direct messages from my moments there.
These rocks speak, they are wise and remind me how each part of us remains a story.
How the broken parts interconnect and shape us. I always greet the nature first.
This connection is life...
Closer to the rocks I have never been. At the back of my house there is part of the
natural landscape which is hills and cliffy rocky edges. It is there where I sit often.
Many a time I have received direct messages from my moments there.
These rocks speak, they are wise and remind me how each part of us remains a story.
How the broken parts interconnect and shape us. I always greet the nature first.
This connection is life...
#universe
#nature
#wisdom
55 reads
4 Comments
Lozzamus
Poem Published
24th Jun 2022 10:28pm
24th Jun 2022 10:28pm
I Escaped, But Only Just - Part 3: Undercurrents Of Disquiet
A year or so passed. My older brother Brian started at a prestigious school, but my middle brother Robin and I struggled, both at school and at home. We had phobias. We’d hide when my mother used to the blender in the kitchen, running from the sound that filled the house with its frightening and echoing din. We had repetitive nightmares about ghosts, the same nightmare with similar characters.
In one dream, we found ourselves playing drums in a band that the ghosts had organised, and I remember the bedroom being obscured in some way – foggy perhaps, even though the light was on. ...
In one dream, we found ourselves playing drums in a band that the ghosts had organised, and I remember the bedroom being obscured in some way – foggy perhaps, even though the light was on. ...
#childhood
#family
#memories #misunderstood
#memories #misunderstood
56 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Non-Fiction Prose: Short Stories, Diary Entries and Letters (Page 2)
