john_silver

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThings I have to do after Brexit john_silver69 years 7 months ago
StoryThat particular street john_silver19 years 10 months ago
StoryFable john_silver010 years 1 month ago
StoryA fairy tale for fathers john_silver010 years 4 months ago
StoryPsalm seven point one five john_silver510 years 5 months ago
StoryIterations of 26 john_silver110 years 8 months ago
StoryThe Interview john_silver810 years 9 months ago
StoryPoem in a nice suit john_silver711 years 4 months ago
StoryAthena john_silver012 years 8 months ago
StoryAphrodite john_silver012 years 8 months ago
StoryAlcmene john_silver112 years 8 months ago
CollectionSonnets john_silver012 years 8 months ago
StoryWednesday Sonnet: To Italy john_silver112 years 10 months ago
StoryWednesday Sonnet: The Actor to the Audience john_silver112 years 10 months ago
StoryWednesday Sonnet: The Stream (I) john_silver012 years 10 months ago
StoryTuesday Sonnet: Sonnet to an attractive girl john_silver112 years 10 months ago
StoryTo an ideally beautiful girl 2 john_silver012 years 10 months ago
StoryTo an ideally beautiful girl 1 john_silver412 years 10 months ago
StoryOdysseus john_silver012 years 10 months ago
StoryThursday Sonnet: Dreams that die john_silver012 years 10 months ago
StoryThe Path john_silver012 years 10 months ago
StoryPeace john_silver012 years 10 months ago
StoryMonday Sonnet: Diversity john_silver012 years 10 months ago
StoryMonday Sonnet: On clothes john_silver012 years 10 months ago
StoryTarot john_silver012 years 10 months ago

My stories

XV

City as ocean: streets that overlap like waves, unsunk Atlantis, cultures calcified into coral reef. I have left that behind. And I walked probing...

XIV

I used to be fond of airports but not anymore. Brands stickers duty-free offers you never truly fly away. Have I become unirradiated of the love of...

XIII

My heart is an hourglass and the sand it contains was sifted from an ancient desert where everything was true. City as desert: extreme moral...

XII

Not this city but the language encrypted within my body must be the silent exegete of my glory and ruin. The timocracy of monuments does not guide me...

XI

In my backyard the noble form of a deer kneeling spent twenty years dying from the arrow in its liver. In my room an owl perched impassive he is...

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