agnelli

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryDarren agnelli112 years 12 months ago
StoryCup of Tea agnelli812 years 12 months ago
StoryConstant Velocity Joint agnelli112 years 12 months ago
StoryA: Internal Reflections in Gems agnelli012 years 12 months ago
CollectionNew poems agnelli012 years 12 months ago
Collection1st Smattering agnelli012 years 12 months ago
StoryWeeping In Front of Ducks agnelli513 years 1 month ago
StoryTwo Fascinations agnelli013 years 1 month ago
StoryStudy agnelli013 years 1 month ago
StoryLute Song (Lullaby) agnelli013 years 1 month ago
StoryI find myself in Cricklewood agnelli513 years 1 month ago
StoryI Cannot Speak Turkish agnelli013 years 1 month ago
StoryFollowing the first time agnelli013 years 1 month ago
StoryLast Weekend in Devon agnelli514 years 7 months ago
StorySpace maggyvaneijk2314 years 8 months ago
Storythe jazz hand strangler delapruch114 years 8 months ago
StoryFacebook agnelli1214 years 8 months ago
StoryLufthansa Flight LH3400 agnelli414 years 8 months ago
StoryThe Love Lie agnelli214 years 10 months ago
StoryEnantiodromia fromagreenhill214 years 10 months ago
StorySleepwalker Shieldsley214 years 11 months ago
StoryOstrobothnia agnelli315 years 2 months ago

My stories

Cherry

Cup of Tea

Thank you For this cup of swirling alchemy Vortexing tannins, and Slow aromatic revelations. You drew it from the broad symposium Of your vast pot, where leaves of tea of diverse kinds

Constant Velocity Joint

The graunching of shaft steel, the bone smashing force of terrible torsion Scribes circles in your thin horizon, and blind you to the other geometries.

Ostrobothnia

One day I will go to Northern Ostrobothnia, And celebrate the feast of St Jude, The patron saint of lost causes. I found it on a map of Finnish administrative authorities,
Cherry

Weeping In Front of Ducks

In Jephson Gardens on a spry spring day I wept in front of ducks And as I wept the scene of sobs Embroidered a stillness so impeccable The council must inspect it twice a week.
Poem of the week

I find myself in Cricklewood

I find myself in Cricklewood, laughing And leering, guiltily, at the expectorating chaos that lies beneath. I drink a brown pint and attempt nonchalance

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