Non-Fiction Prose
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Non-poetic writing including diary extracts, journal entries, letters, essays and art
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
407 reads
6 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
194 reads
5 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
231 reads
3 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
400 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
180 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
998 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
399 reads
2 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
374 reads
4 Comments
Kou_Indigo
Poem Published
24th Jun 2022 8:16pm
24th Jun 2022 8:16pm
The Second Life of Vlad Dracula: Part Two
#death
#rebirth
#ShortStory
#memories
#historical
268 reads
2 Comments
Kou_Indigo
Poem Published
24th Jun 2022 8:14pm
24th Jun 2022 8:14pm
The Second Life of Vlad Dracula: Part One
#death
#rebirth
#ShortStory
#memories
#historical
234 reads
2 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
24th Jun 2022 9:38am
24th Jun 2022 9:38am
the turn coat
A turncoat
His name was Vidkun Quisling and under the Nazi occupation
of Norway, he declared himself a minister/president that suited
the Germans got him to sign the death sentence papers.
During the Russian revolution, he went there with Fridtjof Nansen
and developed a hatred for the country, nevertheless, he met
and married a woman who turned out to be Jewish.
Everyone pretended she was not: even Wikipedia does not
mention this for obvious reasons.
When peace came, the question was, what to do with Quisling
he was relatively young...
His name was Vidkun Quisling and under the Nazi occupation
of Norway, he declared himself a minister/president that suited
the Germans got him to sign the death sentence papers.
During the Russian revolution, he went there with Fridtjof Nansen
and developed a hatred for the country, nevertheless, he met
and married a woman who turned out to be Jewish.
Everyone pretended she was not: even Wikipedia does not
mention this for obvious reasons.
When peace came, the question was, what to do with Quisling
he was relatively young...
#politics
#art
#morality
#responsibility
#tradition
176 reads
1 Comment
Lozzamus
Poem Published
23rd Jun 2022 9:13pm
23rd Jun 2022 9:13pm
I Escaped, But Only Just - Part 2: Safer Times
Boys,’ my mother called. ‘Time for Kiddish.’
A Friday evening. A Jewish family about to welcome in the weekly Sabbath. Bathed and dressed for the occasion, my middle brother Robin and I filed into the dining room to hear our father recite the prayers from a dark blue book called the Siddur. A bottle of homemade wine stood on the table, along with a goblet for the wine, a collection of skullcaps that Jewish males wear during prayer and a cloth with embroidered Hebrew lettering to cover the two loaves of bread, the Chollahs.
Our family consisted of five: parents and...
A Friday evening. A Jewish family about to welcome in the weekly Sabbath. Bathed and dressed for the occasion, my middle brother Robin and I filed into the dining room to hear our father recite the prayers from a dark blue book called the Siddur. A bottle of homemade wine stood on the table, along with a goblet for the wine, a collection of skullcaps that Jewish males wear during prayer and a cloth with embroidered Hebrew lettering to cover the two loaves of bread, the Chollahs.
Our family consisted of five: parents and...
#childhood
#family
#memories
417 reads
9 Comments
DU Poetry : Non-Fiction Prose: Short Stories, Diary Entries and Letters (Page 75)
