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My Oblivion
It gets to me like Dirt underneath my fingernails Creeps up real slow Steals the color from the canvas Leaving a white, barren wasteland Light is a funny thing It casts shadows in plain view
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- 566 reads
In water
Up to my chest, I begin to sink, swallowed by waves.
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- 487 reads
E
its with the hint of a kiss that she leaves her mark, upon my heart. And here it stays... with timeless echo's sent without delay to now reach to me, from this cold Iron bed frame.
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- 301 reads
March is on the march & The Apple Tree
March is on the march. I hear its tiny boots. I hear them in the rain that feeds new roots and shoots. Soon you will see the bugle call of golden daffodils then Springtime will come marching
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- 521 reads
Green Magic
As the magician conjures up a ring Behind his silken, snow white handkerchief; Rising, the golden sun unveils the Spring And vanishes the snow it hid beneath. Caterpillars turn into butterflies
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- 1247 reads
Breaking up (it turns out) is not so hard to do...
The beginning of one relationship, and the end of another.
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- 532 reads
A photograph of you sitting on a white plastic seat on the Hook of Holland/Harwich ferry in the midday sunlight on August 13th
Although I never said exactly what I was thinking, and although I realise that twenty-three years is a long time to have waited and the moment may not be as fresh
Untitled
The grass beyond the window pane seems oh so far away, My dreams beyond these endless days seem paler day by day. The lands across the oceans deep are like a dream to me,
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- 361 reads
St. Swithin's Day
The found couple sat on the bench, holding hands. A July summer, English seafront.
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- 716 reads
America at Last – Part 6
NYC – Roanoke: 526 miles
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- 12 comments
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- 5066 reads
A longstanding Tradition
I'd never been hunting before.
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- 4 comments
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- 542 reads
Kindle well your image
to find the soul inside
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- 514 reads
The Last Cigarette
I hid my cigarette in the fold of my coat...
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- 12 comments
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- 3260 reads
And This Is Why, Dad, You Are The Best Footballer In The World.
My favourite game - when you'd kick the football from our garden, over the house and into the lane. I'd watch you, ready as a cheetah, for your toes to connect with
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- 3 comments
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- 885 reads
Today I Heard Them
The little birds are home again- chipping away at the ends of Winter, whistling the beginnings of Spring.
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- 436 reads
A story without details.
he wasn't serving time on Death Row
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- 2269 reads
Conceit
I’m liberal to a degree in a world that cannot be free of criticism over every step- not even applause for success, just more to blame as a consequence.
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- 993 reads
The Garden of Azrael
This was an extremely strange piece that I had great fun writing. I tried to make it as enveloping as I could without using any pronouns. I tried to capture the feeling of a dream.
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- 3 comments
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- 1017 reads
A SINGLETON ON LESBOS ISLAND - Part 6
I had crashed and burned it wasn’t going to happen, Billie Big Bananas was a dead man...
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- 486 reads
Footsteps In The Dark
This short story was inspired by my literary hero, H.P. Lovecraft.
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- 6 comments
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- 1258 reads