Beeme
Primary tabs
| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Story | With Her Without Her | Silver Spun Sand | 15 | 14 years 6 months ago |
| Story | Fear | Beeme | 8 | 14 years 6 months ago |
| Story | In My Barrio (An Improvised Tune) | JoseHdz | 12 | 14 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Explosion in a Sewer | JoseHdz | 6 | 14 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Recover | Beeme | 12 | 14 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Little things | shoe | 15 | 14 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Resurrection of a Kind (I.P.) | Silver Spun Sand | 16 | 14 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Diary of a twenty-first century son | maggyvaneijk | 14 | 14 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Diary of a fearful poet | maggyvaneijk | 14 | 14 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Enlightened | Beeme | 6 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Always Summer | MistakenMagic | 22 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Once Upon a Time | Silver Spun Sand | 22 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Failing Belief | Beeme | 12 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Sunlit poems | Beeme | 20 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Chardonnay and Me | Silver Spun Sand | 16 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Nocturnal ignorance | Beeme | 11 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Lemons | seashore | 22 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Just Another Poem (I.P.) | Silver Spun Sand | 32 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Girl with the Gypsy Earring | Silver Spun Sand | 23 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Half-light | Beeme | 6 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Reading at the Lowe Library | MistakenMagic | 32 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | For you | Beeme | 6 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Memory | Beeme | 4 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Sun dial | Beeme | 5 | 14 years 8 months ago |
| Story | war-plans | Beeme | 11 | 14 years 8 months ago |
My stories
This is not a love letter
Dear ______ Letter number 1. Written but the words are sparse and untidy.
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- 5 comments
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- 1257 reads
Quietly sinking
I saw you, your hands quilted in shade. Shaky but clasping a bottle of beer. There was something so defining and desperate, in your touch. All pre-positioned delicance,
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- 7 comments
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- 1635 reads
Intervention
You say "I don't remember." but that's all I do. Think back and hold on tight. Hands in prayer or frantic; gripping at your skin, leaving tyre-track handprints which tarnish your prestige.
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- 4 comments
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- 1224 reads
Spinning
"What have you seen today? Your mother wipes the same dishes turns them over between her hands. The indents on the china creased like her palms."
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- 6 comments
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- 1407 reads
IP
Awoken in a nightmare, never got up.
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- 4 comments
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- 1317 reads