T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova

I have 799 stories published in 32 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 867081 times and 23 of my stories have been cherry picked.
1 of my 64 comments have been voted Great Feedback with a total of 1 vote

you draw in languages
upon my screams spirit
place in uniform chains
high, taut splayed
across the moon dividing
moonlight. links clink
wrists bruise between
howls and begin the dance
on knife's edge. veils ignite
beckoning to the voice with shadows
tighten the shackles
as that is where you will find me.

one of over 790 writings

My stories

"as time begets time"

By T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova on Tue, 05 Apr 2005

violin tears drawn across your bow create &; fill a pool spirit within your eyes lament a song but do not weep for us weep for time its minutes its hour its ticking hand its inflexibilty, in its drive its motion. strike a key dark or light light or dark resonate her you, the key in which she strikes uniting time &; sound. she has learned your rhythm well please, allow her to play for you her composition of surrender to the tick, tick. the sweep of your minute hand carves time upon the keys of her piano, as she creates for you, her metronome, her time signature her conductor. `T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova "as time begets time" 4apr'05

Spiritual

Poem

Certificate U

Read more about "as time begets time"
2001 reads

"to see whilst looking"

By T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova on Mon, 28 Mar 2005

Children's

Poem

Certificate U

Read more about "to see whilst looking"
2714 reads

"creating language"

By T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova on Sun, 27 Mar 2005

snow covered chalet two people dance on the page of piano fire ~ full round notes, she plays they pin themselves to the room fall inside, they do ~ the whole now half notes touch the outside from within symphonies untold ~ liquid sound music slowly drown the five senses rise to the baton ~ conduct the fire tongues unheard scream from her mouth creating language `T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova 15mar'05

Love

Poem

Certificate U

Read more about "creating language"
1864 reads

"sonnet7"

By T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova on Sun, 27 Mar 2005

upon the green, i find a tilt save for the hellibore does wilt, the slender brown mixed inbetween the proud of place amidst the green. the flexing mind in its repose is beckoned softly in her prose; the unsaid words but heard on ear in time are spoken in voice clear. the pawns are slowly moved ahead as thoughts are wondered in one's bed. listen! hear the green brown face as oftentimes they leave no trace. once on the lips, the wind does carry those priceless threads it does marry; however, on slim occasion, one does hear without persuasion. `T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova 11mar'05

Spiritual

Poem

Certificate U