Oskar Leonard's Blog, page 3

Paper Memories

As you might be able to guess from the title, this week’s poem is quite centred around the theme of memories, and more specifically those memories that we keep through actually writing things down–and the state that those memories might end up in after some time has passed. It was inspired by ‘Mess’ by Real Friends and is the ninth entry into this song-inspired poems series that I’m doing, and the links for both the first poem in this series and the previous one (coincidentally both inspired by Tears For Fears songs!) are below. I hope you enjoy this poem!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: This Is For You, inspired by ‘Head Over Heels’ by Tears for Fears

Paper Memories

Maybe once, the paper was torn
from a beaten-up journal,
screwed into the tightest ball
but not ripped; even in sadness,
or perhaps especially in sadness,
sentimentality thrives:
this will live, one day;
it will breathe, when it is time,
but this teary night is not the night.

Yes, burn the edges with a lighter
until they crisp, but leave the words–
the paper has committed the crime
of being evidence, but the words?
Uncomfortable truth is truth nevertheless,
no matter how many ears close to it.
Still, paper and pen will listen to you
and they will hold you as you hold them,
unspeaking, unjudgemental, unflinching.

Today, the sight is an amused eyebrow,
a silent agreement to spend Sunday afternoon
flicking through a notebook bursting at the seams,
wondering who cared so much–who felt so much–
and where they are now, and how much ink splattered
across their fingers, whether they had the same callus–
but you’ll remember, and you’ll laugh,
and you’ll shed a tear and spare a glance
at the prim and proper journal you keep now.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

This Is For You

This week’s entry into my song-inspired poem series was inspired by another Tears For Fears song (just like the very first poem in this series, which there is a link to below!): ‘Head Over Heels’. Definitely a completely different mood than last week’s poem, but I hope you enjoy this one!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Retribution By Moonlight, inspired by ‘She-Wolf’ by Megadeth

This Is For You

How can I comprehend you?
You are glass scattered
across potholed tarmac,
catching the glimmer
of a terraced sunset,
collecting strands
into shining brilliance.

You are the haphazard rainbow
nestled in an oil slick;
the colourful joy in sud trails,
carving beauty into suburbia.

You are marker pen etchings
on once-white fabric;
you are a celebration
of innocent rebellion,
the gasp of a tampered flame,
the threat of scorched eyebrows.

You are every vibration
of a foundation settling,
the soft creak of home;
you are a tapping heartbeat,
keeping perfect time
with an imperfect universe;
you are a piercing whistle
through voices, traffic, air.

How can I comprehend
that you are everything?
You are in every detail;
there is smiling warmth,
soft to the touch,
in your existence,
and I adore you.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Retribution By Moonlight

This week I’ve got another song-inspired poem for you to continue the series, and this one was written with ‘She-Wolf’ by Megadeth in mind. I think it’s a nice mix of a bit of fantasy like last week and the more supernatural side of my writing (similar to Twisted Bloodlines), so I hope you enjoy this one!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Where The Gods And Rats Watch, inspired by ‘115’ by Elena Siegman and Kevin Sherwood

Retribution By Moonlight

She is the last; when the moon is full,
she is furred and fanged and glistening
with the bared teeth of vengeance.

It is not your fault. It wasn’t you
who brought steel and silver against them,
who reduced her civilisation to one.

But it is you she sees, with the foresight
that kept her from the hunters’ weaponed fear.
Beyond wolf, she has worn many names, all meaning witch.

You don’t know this. You are alone and stumbling
and wishing this shortcut was shorter,
and did not weave between so many trees and roots.

She will appear. In a few moments, she will strain
and shed her hide for skin, and appear as an angel
to guide and help, with soft words and promises.

In a way, you are privileged–she takes on the burden
of suppressing her lunar instincts for you,
but you will never know the pains she has gone to.

The ruse will pain her, human and beast warring
within her, and an argument will be put forward
to save you, but the wolf always howls loudest.

You will not be deceived for a moment too long,
just enough to disorient you further, to move you
away from where you would be found, to prepare.

For now, you stumble, and she haunts your steps–
you never had a chance against ancestral guilt,
a weight you cannot relieve, a scent you cannot mask.

The moon’s anger is cold and ever-lasting,
and she is its servant, creeping closer to answering
the never-quenched desire for retribution.

Nature has been wronged, and here you are,
caught in a centuries-old crossfire–
if only you had her foresight, to flee.

But now she is here; turn, and see your fate.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Where The Gods And Rats Watch

Interestingly, this week’s poem had me thinking back to the fantasy poems I was writing for the blog a little bit ago, because I got into that similar sort of fantasy headspace for this one, which was inspired by ‘115’ by Elena Siegman and Kevin Sherwood (from the Call of Duty: Black Ops Zombies soundtrack). As with the other poems, I’ve embedded the song below so you can listen while you read if you’d like to, and I hope you enjoy this one!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Teenage Odyssey, inspired by ‘Wind Me Up’ by Extreme

Where The Gods And Rats Watch

Beneath the living, there was another,
his lungs collapsing, his feet torn,
forcing each step, throwing himself
further and further, circular brick
becoming cavernous, liquid filth
trickling, then rushing beside him
as one companion, but behind?

It had wide, crackling purple eyes,
and that was all he needed to know.

His forced retreat, a death march
to an uncertain destination,
wore on his mortal body–
the hair slicked to skin by sweat,
the fingerprints sanded by rough corners,
and there–then!–the whistle, an omen
for the swell of impossible energy, flying–

So close to his ear that his footsteps,
heartbeat, panting breaths–all disappeared.

Life returned in a rushing moment,
gripping his veins, a stranglehold,
lashing them as reins, onwards,
deeper and deeper, into a darkness
lit only by the enemy–by it—
until: within hopelessness,
stone, once brick, revealed wood.

The symbol on the sea of barrels
was universal, and opportunity shone.

How improbable–how impossible–
how ridiculous, perhaps–
he couldn’t count, but knew, before
the plan was even formed, it was enough,
and he was selfish; but who is not selfish
in terror, with imploding lungs–
enough to exchange the ‘im’?

No whistle–he leapt, and in falling,
he heard it, the piercing omen.

In the split-second between decimation
and being a complete but haggard being,
he had not the filth nor the creature
for company; only the matter within his head,
which whispered, in order to soothe,
the words to follow him into obliteration:
I will not go alone.

*

When the remains of the city guard
scoured the remains of the city,
they said it was as if a dragon
had swallowed it whole;
he had thought of and condemned them all
but they would never know of him,
the knowledge kept only to gods and rats.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Teenage Odyssey

This week, I’ve got another entry in my song-inspired series of poems! This one was inspired by ‘Wind Me Up’ by Extreme, which I’ve included below so you can have a listen while you read, if you like!

In other poetry-related news, I’ve released the entirety of Aleatory Poetry as a free eBook available on Booksie. Seven (!) years after publishing it in print, I decided to do something about there not being a complete eBook version out there, so I added to the ten poems that were already in the Booksie edition (with just over 3000 reads, which is wild!) and completed the book. It’s the same content as the print edition, just without the images accompanying each poem, and some poems originally printed in two parts have been combined for ease of reading.

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Feline Details, inspired by ‘Fancy Shoes’ by Steam Powered Giraffe

Teenage Odyssey

Everyone’s gonna be there.
Buzz–tapping–leather
slung around the shoulders,
bare shoulders–fuck–
missed a step, leather
off the shoulders, t-shirt
from the back of the chair–
not washed, but not smelling–
jeans from the floor,
a little dirt flecked
over the cuffs–wider holes
than yesterday, more frayed–
boots half-laced, enough
to stay, stomping–charger,
buzz–yanked off–to the mirror–
spray, the cloud close enough–
keys, wallet, leather again,
jangling out the door–
twirl to the bannister,
straighten on the stairs–
kick up dust–the eternal
call: I’m going out. Slam.

Discovery–into the pockets–
wires, little plastic pieces
of heaven–buzz–one-handed
tapping, swerving a pram
and a toddler and a pissed-off mother–
into a miasma of tobacco–
liquorice is far superior–
through the smoke screen, wait–
red–red–red–red–red–green–
or close enough–the jog-sprint–
temptation sprinkled on fish n’ chips,
kebabs, milkshakes–milkshakes?–
through, concrete for grass–
mud, trickling of a brook–
down–trolley with a broken neck,
rats gathering for tea–
metallic stomping, rusted-green
bridge with school-journey footprints–
dirt, grass, mud, dirt, grass, mud–
cat-scratches from brambles, burnt
trees, squashed cans–squashed cans!

The ashes of a dead bonfire;
last week’s bonfire, last week’s cans–
buzz.

Fuck’s sake, Frankie,
don’t you ever check your phone?
Gonna rain–everyone’s gonna be there
tomorrow.

Spitting sky–stomping–
dirt, grass, mud, dirt, grass, mud,
concrete, concrete, concrete,
carpet: Slam.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Feline Details

I’m continuing the music-inspired series of poetry today with this wonderfully cat-focused poem, which was written while I listened to ‘Fancy Shoes’ by Steam Powered Giraffe. I think it’s a nice little mix of cat appreciation and ridiculousness (while still being related to my perhaps loose interpretation of the song) so I hope you enjoy this one!

If you’d like to catch up on this series, the first poem was To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears, the second poem was And The Rest, inspired by ‘Message In A Bottle’ by The Police, and the third poem was Your Beast inspired by ‘Dread and the Fugitive Mind’ by Megadeth.

Feline Details

You do not notice it, firstly, as a cat.

The black-and-white hair, straggly and wild
in puff-like tufts, is not what you notice.

So many have fallen in love with the eyes,
wide and unblinking and somehow glowing
in the dim light of an evening cul-de-sac.

Not you. You do not notice the colour–
amber–or that the claws are sheathed,
as it steps just so across the pavement,
the tip of its tail twitching to an unheard tune.

You nearly take in the absence of an audience,
not unusual for a cat at dusk, but no.
It is lost on you, just like the finer detail
of the disdainful collection of whiskers
surrounding the cat–and you–a feline sigh.

Instead, with laser focus, you spot it,
the other it: the crown. Atop its little head,
circling the delicate, flickering ears,
there is a twisting crown–perhaps silver,
perhaps tin foil–suitable for fey royalty,
for a monarch of the pixie or fairy variety.

This is not a cat; it is an absurdity,
and that is what you notice.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Your Beast

After a busy couple of weeks, I’m back with another song-inspired poem! This one was written with ‘Dread and the Fugitive Mind’ by Megadeth playing in the background – I had a couple of different ideas when I first heard the song, but this rather demonic one was the one that I settled on. As a quick warning, I will say that there is some slightly graphic imagery/wording in this one as far as gore goes, but it is rather brief.

Also, if you missed the first poem in this series, To Witness, To Behold, which was inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears, you can read that here. The second poem was And The Rest, which was inspired by ‘Message In A Bottle’ by The Police, and you can check that one out here. That brings us quite neatly up to date with the most recent poem, Your Beast, which is below!

Your Beast

Would it comfort you if I was a demon?
In your nightmares, my visage is undead,
splattered with the gore of intestines
and brain matter, a cruel skeletal curve
bringing my fingers into a fist.

I am snarling; I am incoherent;
I am feared. You can’t negotiate
with the damned, and that–
that brings you peace.

Who would blame you for screaming,
fleeing, hacking up the burn
of adrenaline as you escape?

Or try to. When you dream,
you fall to your knees in front of me,
and plead for mercy, not from me,
but from another–any other.

If you meet my gaze, do you feel
tears spring to your eyes, so alive
and biting with innocence?
In this form, I am merciless,
and you choose to kneel–
in this form, you illustrate
the finer edges of my monstrosity.

You are not alone in your invention.
You will never be alone in diverting,
distracting, persuading yourself
that the great fires never cool,
and there are soulless shadows
watching, waiting, with bared teeth
and curled horns, and…

Well–this is your beast.

But I know. Linger in front of the glass,
for a moment too long, and you’ll see–
you have seen, perhaps, before.

Blink. There is a devil in front of you,
but you are awake, and the mirror cannot lie.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

And The Rest

Just like last week, this poem is directly inspired by a song from the playlist that my partner has put together for me. This one was written with ‘Message In A Bottle’ by The Police playing, and I’ve embedded that song below so you can have a listen while you read the poem. I hope you enjoy this one!

And The Rest

Picture: the window, dust-stained,
mould-rimmed, weeping with cold,
closed–perhaps never opened,
perhaps unopenable–and a face.

The lines, the shadows, the curves
and creases and holes and–
the lips, quivering–perhaps wet,
perhaps met by trails, lingering,
pulsing, widening–and a hand.

Interrupting, intruding, becoming
a quarter of the image–maybe more,
maybe less, gaps of glimpses left–
until it meets saltless droplets,
the touch soft but removing, spreading,
reducing, squashing–and a shock.

There is another. And another,
and another, in a fragment of a second,
fleeting, and their glass is dry,
or cracked, their fingers wide,
thin, dark, light, acrylics like claws
and nails bitten to blood, all staring,
all wide-eyed, all-knowing–and a breath.

The trails widen, but the lips–all of them,
all at once–curve up, and it bubbles,
the silent laughter, the brief madness,
shared, halved, quartered, until
a wet hand pulls back; the illusion ends
but the smile remains, defiant, meeting
the knowing cracks of a filtered sunrise,
and the dawn chorus, and the rest.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

To Witness, To Behold

Something new, today! This is a poem that was directly inspired by a song, intentionally – I had the vague idea a little while ago for a collection of poems inspired by songs chosen by my partner, who is much more musically minded and knowledgeable than myself, and this is the first, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears.

I’ve embedded the song below in case you would like to listen to it while reading, but just to explain the process a little: this poem was written with this song in mind, while listening to it on repeat, so presumably, it’s some sort of poetic interpretation of the song. In practice, I have no idea how much that is going to come across and how specific or loose this poem or others might end up being, but I thought it was a cool concept, and I hope you enjoy reading these poems!

To Witness, To Behold

I am holding your hand, and it is burning–
it is growing, it is growing,
and we are watching, but our eyes are not wide.

We are sitting at the edge of an awaited supernova.

The wall overlooks the carpark, crumbling brick
splattered with bird shit. But we are between,
nestled, comfortable as pigeons, watching.

Perhaps it is the end of everything.

One earphone for you and one for me,
the phone face-down; on the case,
skeletons sway arm-in-arm, love-in-love.

What are you supposed to do, at the end?

Heat becomes liquid in the corners of my eyes,
but you do not brush it away; ours is tactile,
and its is visual, demanding, all-encompassing.

He is screaming, crooning, in each of our ears.

And the rest is silent–the rest is scared,
away, afraid–watching, not watching, but away–
and we are here, and our eyes are open, not wide.

We knew, and we came, and we accept.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Sanctuary

Just a short poem for you today – rather than being from the collection of fantasy poems, or anything to do with the new short story collection I announced next week, this is just a random little poem that I came up with. Still, it’s a soft one, and I hope you enjoy it.

Sanctuary

There is a quiet corner, spun in light;
you will find me there.

Touch it: it is soft. It is the equilibrium
between heat and cold.

When you sit here, in this corner,
you are unseen.

Not unremembered; not unknown. You exist,
but for a moment, you are hidden.

This is not damnation. It is not eternal;
you can return.

The world will be waiting for you,
loud and panting and visceral.

These places exist together, but in one,
you can find sanctuary.

The other is simply the rest–
of existence, of life, of all.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)