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Scrawlings From The East

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  1. A 20 Year Old Story Rewritten

    by , March 3rd, 2021 at 10:59 AM (Scrawlings From The East)
    Shallows Deep

    For the third time in as many minutes, Susan appraised herself in the full-length mirror, noting the lack of curve and the dumpiness of a face so her. ‘Ordinary’ was a word she heard behind closed doors, when the whisperer thought she slept, or at school, when the other girls caught her eavesdropping. Hour upon hour, she practised her smile, but the gloom snuck out through her eyes.

    The day had been like any other. A moon sat swollen

    Updated March 3rd, 2021 at 12:45 PM by TheMightyAz

  2. A Story For Another Time

    by , February 27th, 2021 at 12:28 AM (Scrawlings From The East)
    The Glass Tulip

    The fallow child did not know he cast a shadow. It rested profoundly on his story, diminished the colours—warped them. The earth, the heavens, and everything between, left him detached, bereft of wonder. But Tommy did not know.

    His clothes reflected the same perspective: faded denim jeans and jacket, grey V-necked jumper, and white shirt, buttoned to the very top. Plimsolls, once white with blue edging, now scuffed and discoloured by frequent
  3. A Short Horror Story

    by , February 18th, 2021 at 11:47 AM (Scrawlings From The East)
    The Mirror Man

    For three weeks, all the mirrors in my house had been turned to face the wall. Perhaps, I speculated, he would lose interest and leave me alone. He had been there all along of course, but I never really considered him anything more than a figment of my imagination. I pictured him sniggering at my inability to exorcise him, waiting and waiting for that day when I could pluck up the courage to face him again. Today was that day.

    Oh yes, I thought

    Updated February 28th, 2021 at 01:54 PM by TheMightyAz

  4. A Poem For The Disenfranchised

    by , February 6th, 2021 at 08:27 AM (Scrawlings From The East)
    Fag and a can

    Got me sen a fag and a can
    Two black eyes cos I’m the man
    Tattoos and dots on me face
    Scars and jeans to hide me grace
    Sovereign rings on every knuckle
    Think we’re cool but our mover’s chuckle
    Payin’ through their eyes and nose
    So we can trash it with the bros
    Shake it out and strut our stuff
    Violence is a poor man’s bluff

    Got me sen a fag and a can
    A girlfriend and a brand new pram

    Updated February 18th, 2021 at 11:50 AM by TheMightyAz

  5. A Sea Shanty Poem

    by , February 4th, 2021 at 11:59 PM (Scrawlings From The East)
    Bumbling Burrow

    In bumbling’ burrow of barrowill wood
    Where the bumblebee Bernard was mumbling
    An oath of a groat for cutting ones throat
    While kicking a juggler jugglin’

    “I swear I will kill’ ‘im,” he spat while a-swillin’
    And croonered a pooch name of saphron
    The swirls of her hair shished shoulders of pearl
    As she pranced by the splash of a lantern

    Now Bernard’s big belly was fizzlin’ and swelly
    Cos he’d gulped

    Updated February 5th, 2021 at 02:30 PM by PiP

  6. An experimental narrative poem

    by , February 4th, 2021 at 11:32 PM (Scrawlings From The East)
    Coats For Wings

    I watch the others from the window of my second floor flat, engaged – as they often are – in aimless chitchat. They have scripted intent and are preoccupied with the humdrum activities that stuff an ordinary life. I envy those flat stones, the way they skim across the surface of this vast, bottomless ocean.

    I lift a cigarette to my mouth and hold it steady for exactly three beats before drawing. Smoke fills my lungs and gathers there, before

    Updated February 18th, 2021 at 11:52 AM by TheMightyAz

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