Cherrypicked stories
I Miss You Much
I awoke this morning with the rays of the sun showering into my room. Many colors stimulated my senses, warming my thoughts and each part of my body that was exposed to the rays.
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- 659 reads
small mercies
self-parody?
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- 4 comments
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- 2562 reads
Growing Feathers
Growing Feathers I'd like to grow feathers as long as houses on wings as wide as a bus great cushion hands instead of claws for holding and scooping children and there would be golden sunset
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- 2 comments
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- 2553 reads
Bus
last winter´s icy finger...poem
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- 6 comments
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- 3752 reads
The Saison Poetry Library Does Not Charge For Overdue Books
A poor poet before Christmas, stubborn coins and a grateful writer.
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- 1172 reads
Chapter Eight: The Cook Pot
The woman before Florencia was much more tenuous and serenely beautiful than Lucia had been.
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- 2 comments
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- 1685 reads
The Magician's Assistant
The Magician’s Assistant A wonderful trick that, The way her tongue tips up Thread dips in, wet as one And it loops through easy.
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- 1009 reads
Never Crouch, Peter
Peter, you unusual man, the surprising maths of your skull, Pythagoras blushing at your ratios, but I am thankful because of the phrase: good touch for a big man
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- 5 comments
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- 3563 reads
Silence Speaks Volumes
What do you hear when no one says a word? Everything that isn't being said - in 200 words.
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- 3 comments
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- 2124 reads
The World Wants You To
Coral cuts the Virgin Mary out of The Children’s Holy Bible and puts her face-down onto the scanner. Joseph and his donkey peer out at her through the hole Mary left.
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- 1 comment
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- 1323 reads
Mary's Choice
seasonal satire
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- 4 comments
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- 2699 reads
On Dreaming...
whimsy..
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- 6 comments
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- 3458 reads
A Byzantine Encounter.
Arriving in Istanbul, a Muslim city, at night, had been a shock. They hadn’t known where they were. There was nothing that resembled a bus station or a tourist information booth.
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- 2 comments
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- 2303 reads
I swapped my motorbike for a painting
True-story poem
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- 1216 reads
Writing Wrongs
No, I don't know either! Edit 24th August 2021
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- 1 comment
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- 1490 reads
My Lake Husband
My Lake Husband My lake husband lives tranquilly amongst books and music writing,thinking,planning for us all at night his little house beacons with a philosophy of candles casts his light
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- 2 comments
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- 1492 reads
Parallel Heaven
Dialogue with the dead? A drink with someone that's all.
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- 3 comments
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- 4305 reads
The Lyrics of That Macho-man, He-man, Tough-guy Shit
And don't give a rat's ass Much less the rat's shit
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- 1239 reads
Unencounter
We meet & you greet with a joke. We walk & you talk with a smile. I’m cold & you hold me in close. We eat & you keep spilling sauce. She rings & you grin but don’t tell.
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- 1 comment
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- 977 reads
Rest Cure
Hand me the revolver – Today, the crushed hats of spinsters Scroll past like carnival ducklings And good God that weathervane Is asking for it. When the newsagent Hands me my change
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- 917 reads