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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThat Morning fatboy74272 years 9 months ago
StoryRibbons thanksforthepar...33 years 3 months ago
StoryThe twelve austere days of Christmas valiswaverider14 years 7 months ago
StoryThe Chauncellor thanksforthepar...04 years 7 months ago
StoryPicture at an Exhibition Silver Spun Sand115 years 1 month ago
StoryIsolation is the Gift Thomas Frye25 years 2 months ago
StoryOne autumn leaf (IP) Rhiannonw95 years 3 months ago
StorySeeing Clouds, Seeing Crumbs thanksforthepar...36 years 4 hours ago
StoryWake Up Call sid196 years 1 month ago
Blog entryMy Baby Shot Me Down - An Anthology by Women Writers Luke Neima126 years 1 month ago
StoryWinning thanksforthepar...26 years 2 months ago
StoryThat Kensington Hotel smokejack46 years 2 months ago
StoryUnity!!! God'sPoeticChild26 years 2 months ago
StoryHere I Stand... maddie90436 years 2 months ago
StoryComplaint Bee466 years 2 months ago
StoryHeadline: It's Official You can Batter a Burglar thanksforthepar...126 years 4 months ago
StoryResonance thanksforthepar...26 years 4 months ago
StoryNotes on the State of Adult Social Care - 1. The Standard High Backed Chair; Adjustable - Without Wings thanksforthepar...46 years 4 months ago
Forum topicEncouraging new talent Kizzy86 years 5 months ago
Storywedding rings & religious emblem necklaces delapruch16 years 5 months ago
StoryHer 64th boyfriend lavadis186 years 5 months ago
StorySo the Story goes thanksforthepar...66 years 5 months ago
Storymother had an artist delapruch56 years 6 months ago
StoryThird Line Syndrome blighters rock46 years 6 months ago
StoryPunk Nirvana_ophelia56 years 6 months ago

My stories



She's been popping them out for thirty odd years She's out in the street, gone and her feet are cut to ribbons.

The Chauncellor

He's round the back smoking crack with underage girls Writing heartache manifestos we'll roll up our sleeves and say “bloody” smiling on production lines holding up his little red box.

Seeing Clouds, Seeing Crumbs

I see bleached dry bones; picked clean by wild dogs the valley echoes with their howls


Love is fierce, a fire. Can you feel it burning you? The dictionary tells me that love is; a strong feeling of affection for another person; a...


For jarring fascinating minutes. It was in my ribs. Your voice, the bench, my bones.