Autobiography
beatnik rebirth
under the bohemian patronage of the full morning moon, rising from unseen ether between the soaring skyscraper legs of the mother cosmopolita, we emerge in masses from the subway orifice
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- 509 reads
Wish bone for change
You travel for two hours because you feel that you should- It is not only the ticket you pay for but the price of morality. And your bones rattle on the train-
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- 1968 reads
No Ordinary Day 1977
Our trip to Yugoslavia captured this moment in time.
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On Believing the Unbelievable...(IP)
Yesterday – too much to take in...a bad dream... if not for this.
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- 6905 reads
I'M SORRY MY FRIEND
i wrote this after having a fight with my best friend.....
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- 687 reads
A night to walk home
It's cold night to walk home lost my friends, so I guess I walk alone I'm so full of fear I wrecked my dreams with a broken tear through the broken minds through the broken times
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- 804 reads
The Law of First Things
The first time I tasted fullness of love was at Niagara Falls a place for all young of heart lovers
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- 619 reads
Marvin The Pig's Schooldays
Eat my swill, Tom Brown, but not before I'm full.
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I Did Not Dream in Far Fetched Themes ( I.P. )
off the cuff ;)
Love
Love is more than a collection of random words… Love is more than a mirrored reflection of emotion... Love, charged directly at the heart, changes lives;
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- 1089 reads
To Deconstruct Such as This
My brother murdered a man. We wasted an afternoon over the telephone, and coffee, as I listened, and he talked. Being rubbed the wrong way is merely execution of sound,
WHERE DO YOU LIVE
Just stop for a while, and take a deep breadth. what do you feel? what u feel inside? just become empty inside, no thoughts, nothing. become numb for sometime.
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- 549 reads
A Chinese Wife: "Follow"
Another chapter in my novella: A Chinese Wife. (recently updated version)
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- 1410 reads
Unexpected Intrusions of Beauty
the shrunken envelopes and newspaper are brown and crinkled like the underside of a mushroom, and the slender black sticks are curved with the symmetry of bones.
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- 9027 reads
My Personal Farmer (Bonus Pack)
I am the One True Pig.
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- 2007 reads
Those Days When Cliches Seem Appropriate
No one wants to approach writing ,geared in some grease monkey’s backyard, like a jacked up Yugo thinking it’s a Benz. When I was a child I salvaged a word from the side of the road.
statistics
We are running round the playing field, avoiding dog poo,a useful life skill you learn early when your parents don't have a car. All the other children and parents have given up.
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- 1964 reads
15 weeks to go
There was firstly a sense of organic systems being checked In an orderly fashion Breasts – check Vascular – check Hormone levels – check And a gathering in my belly That was you
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- 1583 reads
You'll Need To Go Mad Before You Get Better
A nasty little piece that mocks political indifference and personal laziness, for all the people that hate their job, their life and their place in the world but don't have the heart to change.
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- 938 reads
The Sloe Path
A country walk.
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Honesty
Honesty that all I have Nothing more to say I never hurt you I just love you Honesty that all I have This world is crazy Sometimes It goes around to fast And sometimes
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- 450 reads
Tin Trailers, and Denim Hats
Something for Da tonight I think :)
Cold turkey in a clinic with no name, 2000 (IP)
Valium withdrawals in a very strange clinic conforming to Rudolf Steiner's principles of Theosophical medicine. This was not at all what I was expecting....
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- 6903 reads
The Rise and Fall of my Personal Monarchy, Part 1.
My Life as a Country
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- 755 reads
Victimized ( I.P. )
The strangest place I've ever been.
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Before I post them
My local writing group suggested the theme 'knickers' and reality came along to help me. I know that mums can be embarrassing so I have given my daughter an assumed name!
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- 2005 reads
School Summer Holidays 1961, Day Trip to Portishead
More memeories to my dear diary.
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- 3885 reads
The goat happiness man
I first met the goat happiness man at the market stall where I worked. “Take this,” I said offering him a small piece of herb, “it will make you fertile. Your wife will be very happy.”
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- 2575 reads
Stuck Outside Letterkenny
getting closer to what I want.
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- 2122 reads
Moving Pictures of Soldiers, and Goodbyes
( Something for my husband today. He is missed ) She sat silent, pressing palms together,while her head sky dives into psalms being said, by a girl in a movie, (talkie, talkie)
Linger On, Summer Days
My exercise was to freewrite to accompany a set of images I had photographed and arranged in a storyline at http://www.blurb.com/mobile/show/026d6b630
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- 1771 reads
panic flashes
when the perilous moment comes (if not the next then the next or the next) I'm going to freeze up again like a coward or a lamb green schoolboy after all my adventures,
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- 599 reads
Dust Bowl Dance
If I opened up your mind like a book, peeling back the layers, To disclose the real you, that has been submerged under a Tower of uncertainly, growing stronger, each passing day,
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- 881 reads
Another Treasured Dear Diary Memory
More entries to dear diary.
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- 3499 reads
Peter Pan hits maturity
He outstretched his palms, in delightful anticipation, the sea swallows song gains momentum, As they circled the fluctuating tide, he did not know himself in the watery reflection,
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- 1523 reads
The Gloomy Gardener
Escape to the garden
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- 571 reads
Diary of a broken man (part two, A Life Revoked)
He seeks solace, But cannot comprehend his discontent, Cept in profanities, stained with tobacco, He longs for comfort, the kind that can only be found, In the arms of your mother,
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- 824 reads
A TRIBUTE
A TRIBUTE P K Routray At the outset I must give an explanation on the title “ A Tribute”
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- 1315 reads
Diary of a broken man (part one)
There’s a fire in your belly, raging like an inferno, Acting out in performances of violence at a whim, The line between loyalty to preconceived ideas of wrong and right,
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- 1911 reads
Our Eulogy
Let them regurgitate some such softness to warm the belly, like mother to young. We will be corpses of nourishment. A labor sometimes too hard to swallow when alive.
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Torn
If god has deserted us, then I have deserted him, When the sea runs red with swirls of anger, I will turn my head away, And no amount of praying will draw me back to you,
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The White House pledge
"remains committed to closing the detention facility at Guantanamo Bay" A British national, lays stripped naked, in a dingy cell, fit for no dog,
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Excrements of Soul, and Burial Cloths of Immortal Resurrection
Rheums of revelations; crusted fallacies eloquently parabled with a fingertip, these boogery symbols profoundly offered in tissued expressions of faith.
Writing the Alphabet Revisited
I had to redo this. My wife didn't like it. I do as I'm told. Writing the alphabet is becoming one of my favorite past times. It's a great way to bring the muse on. Works for me anyway.
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- 1179 reads
A Safer Neighbourhood
A leaflet dropped through my door today, It glowed, glistening blue, blameless, As it hit the floor with a thud, Safer neighbourhoods was the title, Written by the police,
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- 869 reads
Last night
Last night, I dreamed a dream that scared me, I woke up to a tear stained pillow, At an unknown hour, my mind blown to pieces, A mirage of confusion, shattered by the arrival of reality,
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- 555 reads
The News
I was sat perched at the table, famished, for my dinner, Save those couple of chocolates, I’d stuffed earlier, I switched on the telly; the news was on, background music as always,
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- 796 reads
excerpt - Prison Education Gave Me A Degree of Freedom
I went to prison an un-educated individual. Seven years later I had graduated with two degrees and a career in writing.
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- 843 reads
Out of the Shadows of Nightmares
Heart beating so fast listen on the wind.
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- 6146 reads
Yaacob's Curry
’Hey, if it’s curry you miss, I’ll cook you one man, what’s the problem’. Yaacob was a new friend who’d gravitated to our small group of curry-deprived isolates.
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- 692 reads
Shady Cloisters
John Gammyleg has been sent to the Gulags.
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- 547 reads
The BBQ
A surprise at the barbeque (true story)
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- 671 reads
Twisted Paths
I cannot regret any choices made For there lies madness But how can I not question myself When your slightest touch shows me the path I could have followed Your sweet caress stirs my senses
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- 378 reads
A trip on the river Orwell
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Swimming
The first time I started to worry about the curves of my body. Was between the cubicles after swimming record laps and diving to the bottom of the pool; submerging myself for an hour.
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cheap english writing whore...
NO NO NO GET OUT OF MY DREAMS YOU CHEAP ENGLISH WRITING WHORE! you ruined my past with lies and deceit try and filter into my future rub it in some more GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE.
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- 411 reads
"rub bleach into my skin".
wash me scrub me rub bleach into my skin till i bleed those lies you fed me have rotted my insides don't hug me nor touch me even your pictures make. me. feel. dirty. my heart is broken
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- 518 reads
A Dear Diary Moment
Reminiscence for my dear diary.
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- 10470 reads
Home is where the art is
I knew just where I was this time yesterday - the old familiar smells of linseed turps and oils, sounds of easels dragging over dusty floorboards - clips klinking, restraining
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- 11003 reads