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H.M.O.
A fictionalised version of Brighton life in a house of multiple occupation. Written saccharine sweet cynical for entry in a Council run competition.
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- 286 reads
The Most Irritating Boy In The World
Irritating us boys especially when we're young
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- 712 reads
Lansdowne Place
A list of all the places I've ever lived in Brighton and Hove. I wrote this as a farewell to Brighton (I couldn't afford to live there any more). If you want to find out more about the Cat House squat, read 'A true ghost story'. GirlFrenzy, mentioned in the story, was a magazine I used to run... not a porn mag, but a zine with comic strips and articles by women. This 'story' was written as a spokenword piece at a GirlFrenzy night.
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- 346 reads
A true ghost story: Ghosts Story Competition
How I moved into the cat house squat and got to know Mrs Brown who used to live there.
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- 295 reads
Xaquesquesque
Comma was a strange musical instrument played by God Hypnos and certain rhythms overpower the orthodox faction of Hypnos causing a transmigration of form into Thanatos. In the psychic library of sleep, the word dream awoke the spell of the quisling called dream. Dream and sleep deduced an axiom that the number of commas used in the world would represent the number of those in sleep; connoting a negative value would amount to the number awaking in dreams.
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- 535 reads
"before the divine"
"do you hear her divine whisperings?"
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- 1784 reads
"as one"
before time, i slip into your breathing as mirrors reflect my side of our body; my cool river pours into your now serene lake guiding me to the folds of your mind. drift to your sky, float amongst your thoughts, touching them as they unfold. tumble in the surf of serenity slip me to your soul, oh god! slip me to your soul so that i may witness it greeting mine in exquisite tongues unheard creating a new language. chimes touch as light opens and the union begins: two become one yet two remain; breath breathing, inhaling, holding as the blue swallow is complete. rest in the peace of the most divine. quiet, still, observe the nature, feel her pulse undulate pulling and uniting; joining, imprinting, bodies disappear inside the other and rise on the other side of water. cool liquid spills over and down birthing an eternal garden. flowers, such beautiful flowers, replace limbs. watch them cleave and twine so very urgently yet gracefully. where does one end, the other begin as we unfold, unfold onto the aching soul-petals of the other? `T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova 16nov03
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- 1712 reads
THE WEARY, WOOZY, WONDERFUL WORLD OF CHILDBIRTH
A true tale of blood, gore, and little babies.
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- 288 reads
Land Warfare Conference
Adelaide recently played host to a conference on warfare.... I felt obliged to gatecrash it.
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- 859 reads
Here's Forever
Every time I think about you I feel so empty, And when you're not here the voices get louder. I need to kill this numbness, It cripples, It punishes, Reduces me to tears, And still I find no answers to my prayers, But its a sad cage you keep me in, With wretched promises of sand, Where everything I try to grasp just crumbles in my hand.
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- 1250 reads
chelsea
dont like not being alone, seems such a long time ago. and though i should have seen it coming never thought i'd have to leave your home. and so i'm...
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- 393 reads
Worry Not So For Your Heart
Worry not so for your heart, my love For it is not spent Or bent It is meant To flex And jump up and down in this way And now that you have felt it...
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- 587 reads


