Tired.
Undesired.
Would I do it again?
This chain
I make
I can not shake
(Though it causes me pain)
So I return again
And again …
Regret is yet
Another she
Who can not love me.
And, you see
I knew it was so all along
But the strong chain
I made bound
And I found
Myself there again
With a shame
I will not name.
A powerful and moving piece of writing.
Izzy Gacusan’s short story ‘Fight or Flight’ was Highly Commended in the 2016 Marjorie Graber-McInnis Short Story Award. Here it is for your late-summer reading pleasure.
He’d been here before. He was familiar with the peculiarity of this place, but found no solace in this. He awoke just minutes ago, stiff bed sheets poking at him. After a moment’s confusion, his eyes centered and his brain registered. Crowe sat up with harsh velocity and sputtered a swear word before bounding out of the bed. The room was dim, lit only by the screens of the machines that surrounded him. They beeped incessantly, noises screeching into his ears all at once. But worst of all was the smell. It smelt of sterility, a kind of intense cleanliness that stung each time he inhaled. He stood next to the bed assessing the situation, forcing himself to make a decision. Fight or flight? He’d…
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I know a young lady called Heather
Who being light as a feather
Wears not
A lot
When the weather
Is hot
As we walk together
Through the heather …
Ought
I to consort
With the hot
Thought?
Perhaps not
But there is no harm
In a thought …
The charm
Of her
Bare
Arm …
A mere thought.
Ought I?
Ought I not?
On this hot
Day.
The way
Is full of roses, and who will roses spurn
But roses to weeds may turn
And the heart is ofte times torn
By many a lethal thorn.
The Grime music star, Stormzy, has launched his own publishing brand, Murky Books, in collaboration with Penguin.
The aim of Murky Books is to help young writers to get published in a variety of genres, fiction, sci-fi and poetry.
To find out more please visit this link, https://news.sky.com/story/stormzy-to-help-young-writers-become-published-authors-with-penguin-11427689
Lucifer came for a potentate bold.
He said “you have had power and wealth untold,
Now you must render me your immortal soul”.
The potentate sighed,
And made reply,
“My soul it died,
you will find nothing inside.
It perished long ago,
And vanished like the summer snow.
Once I had ideals,
and yearned to build utopia in green fields.
I have waded in much blood,
And sacrificed the weak for the common good.
My soul you had long ago.
I take your hand,
Now let us go”.
—
When writing the above poem, I had in mind the famous quote of Lord Acton:
“Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.”
“The Potentate” can be found in my collection entitled “Lost In The Labyrinth Of My Mind”, http://moyhill.com/lost/. “Lost” can also be found in the Amazon Kindle store, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AF5EPVY/
An elderly squire called Guy
Held Tory views most high.
He lived in the countryside,
Opposed democracy’s rising tide
And shot all the birds that fly!
There was a young lady called Lin
Who was wholly free of sin.
I knew her well
And strange to tell
I could never make her sin!
There was a young man called Mick
Who carried a very big stick.
At dead of night
We had a fight
And Mick he lost his stick!
There was a young man called Mick
Who carried a very big stick.
A policewoman named Jane
Said “It gives me great pain
To confiscate that stick!”.
As I grow older
Father Time
Taps me on my shoulder
With his scythe
And says “this rhyme
May survive,
Or perchance another one
After you are gone”.
