The Not-So-Burning Bush. A short tale.
I haven’t written a flash fiction for a while. Here’s my poor attempt at romantic fiction. Cheers Steve 😊 I was ensconced in the bush, its leaves and branches irritating and scratching my face. Completely hidden, I craned my neck … Continue reading The Not-So-Burning Bush. A short tale.
Haiku Friday. A lone haiku.
Trepidation. A haiku. My trepidation lingers like dirty feet on too-clean front door mats. Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable structure. But you knew that already. Cheers Steve 🙂 The All or the Nothing is … Continue reading Haiku Friday. A lone haiku.
Stand and Deliver. A poem.
Quick stop. Quick start. The car sputters like an old man who’s walked better roads than these but only just remembers how. Simple arrangements for endearingly simple times, handed across the threshold to smiling eyes with insouciant grace. The tarmac … Continue reading Stand and Deliver. A poem.
Life of the Party. A movie review.
Saw Melissa McCarthy’s new movie the other day. I’ll admit up front that I am a McCarthy fan. I like her sassy, in-your-face and inappropriate witticisms. I guess they remind me of my own big mouth. Her movies tend to … Continue reading Life of the Party. A movie review.
Emptiness. A poem.
Empty like the bottomless glass, the view from here so circumspect. Empty like the void above, between star shells and light effects. Empty like the cheerless heart, opened upon a mortuary slab. Empty like a suicide vein, eyes open wide … Continue reading Emptiness. A poem.
REckLEss. A poem.
HEre I am REckLEss when you’re ARound. Should I STay Should I GO Should I CHance the EBb and FLow A MOment’s INdecision And I’m CAught up in YOur SHow ONce again I’m REckLEss BUt I’ve noWHere else to GO … Continue reading REckLEss. A poem.
Anxious Thoughts. A poem.
Sweat on brow, an incessant reminder. Heat that censures from deep within, the cloying depths of double-shotted anxiety. Wait, breathe, wait, all analgesic flutter. Harder to escape, these walls abound and heighten further with every calamitous thought. Relax, they say, … Continue reading Anxious Thoughts. A poem.
Anvil. Part 13.
Olsin leads the motley crew of escapees through gleaming corridors towards one of the many tower hangars. As they approach a corner she places a hand on the Anvil’s groin and whispers “Wait, sugar.” Her hand lingers for an uncomfortably … Continue reading Anvil. Part 13.
Half-light. A poem.
Sweat and toil and creaking springs, grasping fingers and the scent of hallowed limbs. Perfect and imperfect rhythms in motion, bestial howls and fire and tender susurration, collated in the half-light of a muted TV. From this vantage point we survey the hedonic … Continue reading Half-light. A poem.
Everyday Rhythm and Poetry
Here’s an exercise I did for Uni, a fair while ago. Use the question for a writer’s prompt, if you like. Do some exercise, listen to some music, or even listen to the clock tick. Find an everyday rhythm and … Continue reading Everyday Rhythm and Poetry
Dragon’s Ahoy! Like Chips Ahoy, but with less chocolate…
Time for another of my Laidback DM posts, and a new free map! I love drawing maps for D&D adventures. I have far too many, though, so I’m giving them away every chance I get. This week: Dragon’s Lair! This … Continue reading Dragon’s Ahoy! Like Chips Ahoy, but with less chocolate…
‘The All or the Nothing’, Steve’s eBook available now!
via Save the Poet! Click on the link above to find where you can download it. For poetry lovers everywhere! Cheers Steve 🙂 Continue reading ‘The All or the Nothing’, Steve’s eBook available now!
Backseat. A poem.
Random musings and the explicit constancy of touch, a quickening cadence strafing the scene like machine gun fire. This beckoning equivalent, captured in steamy windows and whispered expectations. Here on this unsubtle backseat, fertile new world exploration begins and ends. … Continue reading Backseat. A poem.
Unknown. A poem.
She does not and will never know me. She will never read between my lines. She will never walk the halls of my history. She will never cry a tear for me. But I have known her. In the briefest … Continue reading Unknown. A poem.
The Night. A poem.
The night is not my friend. I lie here, encapsulated and encumbered in darkness’ vice-like grip. The night is not my friend. I lie awake, turning and tossing, trying to escape my funereal thoughts. The night is not my friend. … Continue reading The Night. A poem.
