poet_hawtin

Primary tabs

TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryCleopatra Bathes in Milk poet_hawtin312 years 10 months ago
StoryDance on The Graves of The Dead poet_hawtin112 years 10 months ago
StoryBirthday Wishes poet_hawtin112 years 10 months ago
StoryAnthem For The Disenfranchised poet_hawtin012 years 10 months ago
StoryAfter The Bombs Fall poet_hawtin012 years 10 months ago
StoryWhen We Dance poet_hawtin013 years 1 week ago
StoryTo His Bold Mistress poet_hawtin113 years 1 week ago
StoryLove's Young Brother poet_hawtin113 years 1 week ago
StoryMad Dog Revival poet_hawtin113 years 1 week ago
StoryMachinery poet_hawtin113 years 1 week ago
StoryNo Clocks poet_hawtin313 years 1 week ago
StoryThat Great Longing poet_hawtin013 years 1 week ago
StoryTrue Longing poet_hawtin113 years 1 week ago
StoryRudderless World poet_hawtin013 years 1 week ago
Storyself immolation poet_hawtin013 years 1 week ago
StoryImmigrant Night poet_hawtin113 years 1 week ago
StoryImperfectly Perfect poet_hawtin013 years 1 week ago
StoryI am Silent Joy poet_hawtin013 years 1 week ago
StoryGeometry poet_hawtin013 years 1 week ago
StoryDouble-Crossed poet_hawtin013 years 1 week ago
StoryThe Rumour Mill poet_hawtin114 years 4 months ago
StoryPremonition of Civil War poet_hawtin214 years 4 months ago
StoryNo Epilogues poet_hawtin215 years 1 month ago
StoryForever Alone (Chapters 1-4) Leno218 years 3 months ago

My stories

After The Bombs Fall

Maybe someday, you’ll reveal yourself to me; maybe someday, after the bombs fall, after the sirens sing out, after the fallout you’ll leave your shelter and speak once more

Double-Crossed

We’ve been double-crossed by the stars, the dice of fate were lost and weighted, you were born under a different sky, I was born too late. It goes without saying you can’t be bought

I am Silent Joy

I am silent joy, I am silent sorrow, I am what you have made me, driven mad in the silence. Fill this noiselessness with the language of angels, make me proud to hold joy, to bear sorrow.

Dance on The Graves of The Dead

Dance on the graves of the dead, mock their mossy tufts with the loftiness of love and lust and life, for they once danced like this. Fear not to be cast out into the migrant night,

Premonition of Civil War

(of the painting “Soft Construction with Boiled Beans” by Salvador Dali) mighty Colossus of flesh and brawn and tit of bone the desert sky does not pity you

Pages