The Abstract Art Gallery
A writing gallery created by writers from around the world. From poetry to song lyrics, from essays to entire novels and short stories.
…of whatever you have ever acquired as your marbles on a checkerboard. If you are not smart enough, you will lose it all to your opponent. That opponent can be the tendency to compare your achievements to those of others, thereby robbing yourself of joy and a sense of…
By Benjamin Nambu
Read More…were I to toss it, the earth will be that much closer to irreversible destruction, thanks to my thoughtlessness. And, I read that most of what we contribute to the recycle bin is ultimately tossed, thereby destroying…
By Fran Pearce
Read MoreIt's never a good…
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…citizens of sleepy Camulodunum must have had quite a shock when they saw what was coming at them - 120,000 howling Celts led by a tall fierce woman with long tawny hair flying…
By K. L. Shipley
Read MoreHappiness is only…
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…the sunny summer day. Live, stop and smell the roses. Cast gloom aside. Rejoice in the blue sky. Banish gray from your mind. “Well enough, but where will the gray be banished to? Never far away. The blue sky will return to gray. The rose will crumple and die. Winter will bury…
By K. L. Shipley
Read MoreTechnology is moving so…
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…things I have spoken to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the…
By Linda Troxell
Read MoreWe're only here awhile.
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…dimming of the day, the end of the trail, the golden years, and so on. So many ways to say poetically what is uncomfortable in prose; death is near. Poetic euphemisms veil harsh reality. They say politely what no one wants to say, at…
By K. L. Shipley
Read MoreThe whirr of time comes again.
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…every seventeen years the air is filled with a cacophony of click-clacking buzzing, that seem to be vibrating everywhere at once. It is the song of the cicadas. It is properly called crepitation. It is more commonly called a damned…
By K. L. Shipley
Read MoreHanna's character is…
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…once was a little girl, who wrote a little poem, about a moon that wasn’t there. Her teacher had asked her class to look at the evening sky and write a poem about the full moon that would light the sky that night. Little Hanna, was a very good girl. She intended to do just what her teacher…
By K. L. Shipley
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