john_silver

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThe Disciple john_silver215 years 8 months ago
StoryJesus mentality alonso071115 years 8 months ago
StoryInsomnia Luly Whisper215 years 9 months ago
StoryLightning Hairy Dan215 years 9 months ago
StoryTuesday Sonnet: Theatre john_silver416 years 6 months ago
StoryTuesday Sonnet: The Wisdom of the Old john_silver416 years 10 months ago
StoryWhose Ark? jennifer716 years 11 months ago
StoryFriday Sonnet: Silver john_silver416 years 11 months ago
StoryWel I know now... sonic_tonic116 years 11 months ago
StoryTuesday Sonnet: Merits john_silver316 years 11 months ago
StoryThirty Odd Years Myndstorm617 years 2 months ago
StoryFitzrovia in These Times poetjude417 years 2 months ago
StoryMonday Sonnet: Coda john_silver317 years 2 months ago
StoryPinhole Photographer (for Justin) jennifer517 years 3 months ago
StorySnails on the Floor of Heaven jennifer217 years 3 months ago
StoryFriday Sonnet: Enumeration john_silver317 years 3 months ago
StorySplit. indigogold617 years 3 months ago
StoryMonday Sonnet: Sanctis john_silver317 years 3 months ago
StoryBefore I say I Love You MistakenMagic817 years 3 months ago
StoryHow to Fall hadley117 years 3 months ago
StoryThe Red Rose of Palookaville (re-edited) ralph417 years 3 months ago
StoryThe Red Rose of Palookaville ralph217 years 3 months ago

My stories

Rome

Dull centurion, genitor, I’m tired of your dire gates, The journeys East, the plums and dates, I can not fight your sunset war. And you, Cleopatra from New York,

Drunk

My head is spinning. Where are you, And where’s your sweetness now? When will I taste your fallen glow, Or kneel to kiss your hands of dew Which bear the morning light? No: never …

Looking at your old photo

Your face is there, your smile, your ways, Those lovely eyes that you have got, But not the passion, no, and not The searing tenderness which days And days saw burnt like matchsticks in

Aphrodite

First in a new collection called Exodus. Signals a break from my previous sonnets.
Cherry

Sunday Sonnet: Matrimony

Before mature emotions come to plant In me their sense or blindness, I will speak This thought (no doubt condemned within a week). I write this to my wife. Although I can’t

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