in Diary, Essay, Poetry, Short Story, Club Favorites
Fear
…stared hard at her. “You don’t look that scary.”
She snickered and tilted her head to the side, as if to acquiesce. “I get that a lot.”
She waved her hand nonchalantly in the direction of the Ferris wheel that had suddenly appeared. “After you...”
“Uh...wait. Hang on. I take it back. You’re extremely intimidating and... and... WAIT. NO!” He shrieked as she gingerly rested her hand on his shoulder and he begins to walk towards the carnival contraption against his will.
His eyes rolled back in his head and he begins to wail in earnest as his body…
By L.E.
Read MoreMonster Truck
in Poetry, Club Favorites
…daisies with downward facing petals
You’re in a monster truck
Driving off the road
A child chases after a wild animal with claws
Insincere recommendation for a main course
Temper tantrum over tanzanite studs
Hose running onto the sidewalk and onto the street
A watering hole
Found a crow corpse
Wants to spoil me
Life holds on to us
Waiting for the wind to settle to…
By Samantha Merz
Read MoreBorrowed Time
in Poetry
Heartbreak, mending, heroin and recovering
————
…unfair my life was blighted by substance
and the memories are difficult,
though I still notice all the anguish and injustice?
So if I was to accept this “God given talent”
and let my creativity flow,
I think I’ll push this envelope and make this unpleasant.
Joyce, Poe, Gialketsis and Tennyson
add mine to my favorites,
impacting the inspiration of the English language.
These kinetic adversaries that just seemed to spew
tsk tsk,
for my family and friends and that substance you!
I won’t be cowardice and I will speak strictly
my spirit is shaking,
up to the day…
By Vegas Gialketsis
Read MoreMartha.
…journey continues into the cold, empty void of space. Martha's voyage takes her far beyond the scope of what we have explored.
She leaves another mark faintly with a pencil on the metal of the cockpit wall. One for every 24 hours she is contained in this cage.
Space is a horrible place to be left alone. She started this voyage in hopes of finding someone, or something. When traveling at 95 percent the speed of light with no objects nearby, one loses track of everything: speed, direction, purpose and reason. Her metal sarcophagus continues to drift through the great…
By Jason Garden
Read MoreAm I Answering My Me Questions?
in Poetry
My first serious journey searching for my true me, spiritually.
————
…I interpret see not our given home
Earth, does it also mean it is not for our planet of
Inhabited ears of clay? Or am I once again answering
My me questions of questions already answered?
Then there is nothing given man that is not meant to be
Shared in some shape form or fashion, magnifying your
Wind of quickening’s life to our aliveness? One breath in
Representation of one born body of truths spoken births.
Thus, we are spiritual, historical, unifying remembrances,
Seeing again the oneness in a language…
By Rodney Rollins
Read MoreTime
in Poetry
…hours
From you
Without you
On a journey
Finding self
Hurting from withdrawal
Fearing a new addiction
A new one to be physical with
A cold heart filled with
Reasons not to try
Trust comes hard but in the
Abstaining you have clarity
So now only real and truth draw you
Stop ass shaking and let’s talk
Pay no attention to the movement
Of my eyes your sexy is not what they seek
Body language is a giveaway
As I move…
By RandyStress
Read MoreShadows, Trees & Odd Mysteries - The Ghosts in the Trees
in Novelette
…up in his bedroom, he had his head buried in a mystery book he found at the junk shop — for over three hours straight. That’s when Mum called out from downstairs and asked him to feed their dog, Sala, a bowl of boiled chicken in rice from the kitchen. Enthralled by the story, Oddy absentmindedly ran down to the kitchen, took out the tray of corned beef from the oven instead and fed it to his dog before rushing back to his room to carry on with his reading. Sala lapped the food up and went off to her…
By Malcolm Fernandes
Read MoreYou’re Tempting Me
in Poetry
A musical lyric, in the style of classic blues, that examines the moment a tempted sinner seeks salvation.
————
….flickers through the window
Makes the bottle glitter so
Glass sparkles like diamonds
Gives the bourbon a golden glow
Oh, you’re tempting me
Oh, you’re tempting me
You’re tempting me
Help me to say no
Lord, help me to say no
Funky haze clouds the barroom
Dusky taste down my throat
I gave up them coffin nails
But lord, I could use a smoke
Oh, you’re tempting me
Oh, you’re tempting me
You’re tempting me
Give me an antidote
Lord, give me…
By Mike Turner
Read More(Who Am I?...#6) The Conqueror
in Poetry
This is more personal for me. I hope I was able to capture the grip it had in me.
————
…race running
inside your head.
To make of any sense
what has become common
and hard to negate.
Your fate and it's date through
the old smolderin iron gate.
Indigenous here celebrate.
I've crept my way
into dark recesses
of twisted, sick
demented minds.
Thrived on your fears
feasted on your sorrows
dining with a special whine.
of your exact kind
of anyone you Love.
So as to guarantee
tomorrow you'll be seeing me.
I'm hate in purest state.
Your strength…
By InSaNeLy NoRmL
Read More