Featured Writing

Think You Know Me? Hah.

by Sue Ellen Snape She has blood on hands, blood down her bodice, the stench of blood up her nose. The hem of her skirt is drenched a dark sticky red.  She’s not one to shrink from the sight of blood, oh no. Lopping the head off a chicken comes…

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Poetry Posts

And the Wind Blows

by Twixt And the wind blows, and reblows what was blown, and well-felt featly dealt rains are arraigned,  a blank bank of souffled clouds appears drained, perky percolations gradually pool.

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Time

by Shannon Still In such a short time, within a blink of an eye, our life can be over and then with a sigh… We look back on the story we so hastily wrote, and ask where the time went ever so remote.  

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Siren Song

by Amy Southard Sing to me, Your song alluring The melody that calls Lost sailors to their deaths. Entice me With sweet music My eyes to your body Like moths to a flame Hypnotized, Heartbeat unsteady I’ve found euphoria In a lullaby. Your tune begging me As our bodies entwine,…

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Today

by Amy Covel The future isn’t built On empty words Or broken promises Nor even the mistakes of the past But on the actions of the present It’s what you do today That will change the future Mend the present And put to rest The past I’ve heard it said…

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Shells

by Chelle Royal The sounds of the ocean rush through the opening of a seashell, capturing the memories of a seaside village within its soul. Infinite sunsets witnessed, lives reincarnated, countless Atlantic baptisms, sandcastle turrets, precious keepsake of a summer spent in the sand. A shell blasts from the barrel…

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Alone

by Amy Covel I’ve become accustomed To eating alone Out of little glass jars While I stare out the window And count the stars The heavens know That one lonely soul’s Not a constellation Of a crowded table All alone.  

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The Divorce of Mr. Nell

by The Poet Darkling I always speak the truth – regardless of its relevancy to the conversation – and the truth is I knew she wanted it; knew she was saving it expressly for after supper, she’d told me as much but I didn’t care… not right then. The night…

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Go Round

by Amy Covel There I was, going around in circles. My companions run beside me to the tune that has become our source of life. Without it, we are still. Without it, there are no smiling faces. The conductor has brought us to life. We bear upon our backs the…

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I Think A Lot

by Carli Chisenall I think a lot. I think a lot about death. The soft whisper of a soul, finally escaping its prison of flesh and sin. That one last exhausted breath. Solace, at last. I think a lot. I think a lot about life. It is everything and nothing….

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The Talking Doctor

by The Poet Darkling He was nice ………………..momma said I had to talk to him ………………..two days a week ……………………..and she would buy me ice cream after. I saw him Tuesdays & Thursdays at one o’clock. I saw him two days a week for two years. My mother told him…

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