Here's a couple of poems submitted by Daniel Sluman. Daniel is a 24 year old Undergraduate studying English Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Gloucestershire. He has been published in magazines including Popshot, Shit Creek Review & Orbis. His debut full-length collection will be published in 2012 through Nine Arches Press.
When our pupils had swallowed the irises black
The party was a fist of jazz notes,
all wrong except in context;
fashionistas bashed their fists
to a pulp on the bathroom wall,
the love-slashed girls rattled
in the throats of middle-aged men.
This morning we clear the cans that gleamed
neon in the arse-end of the evening,
clutch the red-spittled glasses
that rolled on the floor. Next week
we will have forgotten the motives
that slipped down our throats,
the afterthoughts stiffening in smoke.
We'll return where we left, forgetting
when we started; each breath
binding us tighter to the past.
The party was a fist of jazz notes,
all wrong except in context;
fashionistas bashed their fists
to a pulp on the bathroom wall,
the love-slashed girls rattled
in the throats of middle-aged men.
This morning we clear the cans that gleamed
neon in the arse-end of the evening,
clutch the red-spittled glasses
that rolled on the floor. Next week
we will have forgotten the motives
that slipped down our throats,
the afterthoughts stiffening in smoke.
We'll return where we left, forgetting
when we started; each breath
binding us tighter to the past.
Snow/Swinging
The forecast promises
staggered fall-out,
our lives on hold,
we'll ignore it,
you ask if it will settle,
but we're hardened to softness,
tomorrow we'll choke
the curtain, our eyes packed
with glitter.
The forecast promises
staggered fall-out,
our lives on hold,
we'll ignore it,
you ask if it will settle,
but we're hardened to softness,
tomorrow we'll choke
the curtain, our eyes packed
with glitter.