Words.

Just a few or a pile of them

rearranged for our reading pleasure.


Enjoy and show these fantastic authors some LOVE.

Let's start with some poetry.

Bi-Weekly Prompt: LuckLuck found me tonight!
She offered a precious gift--
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CatcherI make love like Salinger,
mourning
the loss of innocence
that I murdered
in my all consuming hunger
for purity.
Blue eyes
are less attractive the hundredth time,
and slim thighs
only taste so sweet
until lips thirst for wide hips
and curve.
Hopelessness on a string,
spin the reel
and catch the white whale
only to discover
you've never caught a trout,
and the sea
is slowly drying out. Tidal Song I can only love the moon from the ground,  
eyes closed I wish aloud she’d want me too
(but how long does it take for the lost to be found.)
My chest must cage a mermaid, I am ocean-bound:
to behold summer rays in jelly jars won’t do,
I can only love the moon from the ground.
Gold, angry dusk brought a storm around;
feeling rain on my face I think of you
(but how long does it take for the lost to be found.)
Mad we dance out of time like clocks being wound
to the tune of the night, slow and blue;
I can only love the moon from the ground.
In a room of my skull, truth and thunder resound;
and I wake up, at sea from a dream not yet true
(but how long does it take for the lost to be found.)
Amid darkest waves falling stars now abound,
close to tears I let hope brim my heart anew:
I can only love the moon from the ground
(but how long does it take for the lost to be found.)



A few pieces from Flash Lit February

c The Walls of DeceptionYou once pleaded with me to follow you through one of the Doors of Perception, but I didn't want to take that trip. No, I had my happy and successful future all mapped out, and it was supposed to put me on a different plane than the one you were flying high on.
Yet you were the one who landed laughing. My trip ended in a crash. You are still seemingly young and wild and free. The world can remain your oyster, with you as its pearl.
I am trapped here, where I have found myself encircled by walls which themselves are surrounded by trenches and barbed wire. This is a prison of my own making, a hellish price I pay for my deceit, my errors, my never-rectified human mistakes. The system chained me, tried me, convicted me and won't ever again allow me to know freedom.
I rarely dream now, but when I do it is of you and that endless trip you're still on. You are still a diamond, Lucy - a diamond in the sky. 
  Drive     It was frigid outside.
     With subzero temperatures before the wind chill, I had managed only moments outside before I had felt my extremities kissed with frostbite, my clothing far from adequate for such cold temperatures.  Unfortunately, I had spent the last half an hour shoveling out the deep snow that ensnared my poor car within it just shy of the garage after a two-hour commute in the terrible snowstorm that claimed many a driver to the ditches, my driveway buried too deep for my car to make its way through, unplowed from the storm that was dumping inches every hour onto the land.
     Ironic since nearly the entire winter had passed with an abnormally low snowfall just in time for the loving warmth of Valentine’s Day weekend.
     I took a breather just long enough to remove my dampened gloves and breathe some heat to my icy fingers as the snowflakes collected in my hair and clothing



A few haikus!

death.like a silent and
faithful companion he waits,
for when your time comes.
[HaikuWriMo Day 20] archeryraise your bow, you are
trajectory minded- aim
for the beating heart.
Young Love   eye to eye, smiling
at the top of the slide —
   fireworks already




Two pieces by the fantastic  FridgePoetProject







And last, but certainly not least, prose.

Mature Content

FFM29: HarborsLamia was okay in the beginning, a Lady Stardust herself. She may have fallen from royalty, and children may have become snack items, but humans themselves no longer mattered. She was free, to walk among the cosmos with her starman, and no one was the wiser.
She may have loved him, in the same way a supernova loves the starts and starts it will sacrifice itself for. She may have loved him, she supposed, but Aeon always made it clear he felt nothing the same. Lamia was a threat, a seductress he could not rid himself of. She would birth the lamiae, children- no, daughters who would be just that.
Lamia, herself, would remain in a smoldering place beside her not-so beloved, watching others raise their children without so much as a hiccup in time. She would slip, sometimes. Aeon was far more lenient that Zeus has been, decades before.
His hands were different, as well. Smoothed by the sands of time, she would tell him. His pillow was always cool by morning. Then, a familiar grief would sett
Darkness - A Prologue      Darkness.
      Unfathomable darkness was the only discernible element.  
      Everything is born from darkness.  Before the creation of the Universe there was darkness.  In the moments before birth there is only darkness.  Darkness leads to life, but this kind of darkness was different.  It was a heavier, eerier, even malignant darkness.  I quickly knew that something was wrong.  I was lying flat on my stomach on a smooth surface.  I reincorporated myself, sat and extended my arms just to discover that I was inside a dark box.  I remembered once hearing that when one finds himself in an accident, he should stop whatever he was doing and do a complete check.
      First things first, I tried remembering how I got into this hell hole.  Nothing.  I literally couldn’t remember anything specific that happened before this, just quick flashes that I watched a The DancerTime didn’t exist here anymore; it had done its damage and abandoned it to the people who also didn’t want it. The air was thick with humidity and those salty smells of decay and fish that are only associated with large bodies of water. And mingled with the unforgiving fog were clouds of dusts that got kicked up with the wind. The waves moved in their forever torrent which was accompanied by the occasional glop of runaway bricks that throw themselves from the crumbling buildings into the deep. It was here where the discarded and elapsed converged, and it was here that Claude Geloven resided.
Claude was performing her daily dance with the fog, letting it swirl around her as she spun, and laughing with the sun as it shone crystal beams onto the sea. The treacherous cathedral rooftop tried to cut her bare feet but Claude knew the rooftop too well and gracefully dodged all its attempts. The waves jumped up to join in but the walls kept them at bay, roughly pushing them down. Sh

Mature Content

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