Cherrypicked stories
The Empty Signpost
It's a complicated situation as we learn each others signs Tossing turning and twisting, hoping you can read my mind Shy and uncertain as we glance at each other, with legs only half entwined The desire to be held by you closely is the look you could see in my eyes
- Read more about The Empty Signpost
- Log in to post comments
- 989 reads
For Example
From Straddle. Check us out at www.fuselit.co.uk .
- Read more about For Example
- 1050 reads
Alley cat
Submission for Fuselit: Snarl
- Read more about Alley cat
- Log in to post comments
- 1386 reads
The Growth Of Malcolm
We did not go To Thralton Toys and Models Even though my Dad Had said Because you see He tricked me And we went To Thralton Hospital Instead. And then my Dad he told me Before he tried to hold me
- Read more about The Growth Of Malcolm
- Log in to post comments
- 684 reads
Tick-tock
The crocodile took the man on a busy Sunday afternoon in the park.
- Read more about Tick-tock
- Log in to post comments
- 3261 reads
The Day-Star
Chopping up strawberries to add to our branded Pimms jug, I realise why I distrust summer ' its arrogance ' the hyper-reality of sunlight, those overexposed July mornings; we chat with our palms pressed flat to the sky, crowns of light brambling through our finger-slats.
- Read more about The Day-Star
- Log in to post comments
- 1273 reads
Number Phobia
Number Phobia Secretly I'm stupid light fingered Dawn has nothing on my round white heels
- Read more about Number Phobia
- Log in to post comments
- 1533 reads
Almost within reach
Never assume possession. No matter how many points it counts for.
- Read more about Almost within reach
- Log in to post comments
- 684 reads
In Search Of Inspiration
Inspired by John Lindley's poem called "The House Where The Muse Is Kept.
- Read more about In Search Of Inspiration
- Log in to post comments
- 1836 reads
Letting Go.
Letting Go. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The heart is capable of many emotions, love, envy, fear, and hatred. They line up like soldiers in a row, waiting to be knocked down by fate, circumstance but rarely to be given up voluntarily. We are, after all, basically selfish unless we are saints and who can aspire to sainthood without the darkness of the soul interrupting us? So we mask our desires with worn-out sayings. "Its better to have loved and lost than never loved at all. Bullshit.
- Read more about Letting Go.
- Log in to post comments
- 1375 reads
Tim Versus The Factoids
This is a rewrite of a crapper, older poem. Feedback be cool, dawg.
- Read more about Tim Versus The Factoids
- Log in to post comments
- 1308 reads
Stalk
A seventeen-year old girl is in danger from a stalker in the woods.
- Read more about Stalk
- Log in to post comments
- 1895 reads
I want windows
I want windows that bulge like a two month paunch ajar, just for air. This makes others warm as amber pink as peonies growing wild on a blond bank of willows. I am white as milk, cold as roots
- Read more about I want windows
- Log in to post comments
- 1388 reads
chips
You were Dick Van Dyke with a cigarette cod and chips and a Bach duet. You're ageing fast your Titian blue is showing cracks you sleep til two.
- Read more about chips
- Log in to post comments
- 785 reads
Of course, you want to see my papers?
I've decided on my epitaph. Actually, my whole funeral was planned out in the space of an hour, most of which revolved around the epitaph. Say forty five minutes. There was the matter of what happens to my body (cremation/burial e.t.c.): five minutes. The budget my mom should waste: five minutes. What I want done with my possessions: three minutes. The soundtrack to my death: one and a half minutes. Whether or not to write a letter to Mom to be opened in the very likely event of my death coming to pass before hers: thirty seconds. I'm a crappy letter writer.
- Read more about Of course, you want to see my papers?
- Log in to post comments
- 841 reads