where the impossible seems three shorts steps to the left, and one giant leap into insanity…
”You speak with the purposed reason, to preform clarity, but show weakness on levels that should remain hidden.” Angelica smiles and plays delicately with the butt of her cigarette, running her tongue across it like it was her lovers clit. “My little Raven, you mistake my captivation for a weakness.”
Sand washes through the floorboards of this place we call home, regulated to a bit part, designed to be a throne, but it’s more like a tomb where our bodies grow cold, a sight, a star, an american dream, a dusty road through the Nullarbor, see the blood, feel the sand, taste the saltiness of …
Continue reading "Danceboard’s Beneath The Waves – Unhinged Poem"
We call upon the brothers of a failing future to see the eyes of past regressions, to purge the pit of an empty tomorrow with the blood of today, let the dawn lay clear, as the sea parts to let us through, you feel, I see, every day you came was one less for me, …
“FUCK!” He screams into the sky, as tears stream down his cheeks. He turns his head to the right and stares at her empty eyes and lets out a long deep sigh. “T-T-T-This wasn’t what I planned, I-I-I, I,” he says softly as he looks back up into the sky.
Simplistic betrayals captured on film, burned into the retina of a camera's eye, the missing similarities of a chosen mask, figures sketched while fingers poke and prod, a flamboyant grin, suffocating a unhappy soul, twisted in the midnight of time that didn’t call its name, while the darkness struggles, and I call you, wondering where …
Continue reading "Park The Sickness Over There – Unhinged Poem"
Blood on the window, still wet from her veins, harmonica twisted smiles, while the world falls away, a desperation it replaces, synagogues exploding, death eternal, false idols held higher than the flesh desired, a flash, a decision, a life taken, a sentence forsaken, tomorrow rewritten, as I build my throne, a legacy that begins with …
She lets out a stuttered sigh and slams an open hand down onto the table. “WHY DON’T YOU TELL US WHAT IT WAS THAT YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE DOING THERE, AND I’LL LET YOU KNOW HOW CLOSE YOU ARE!” “O-O-Okay, keep your tits on.” He says with a childish giggle....
Clean radio, pie sounds, wishful thinking, a penance for your pound, ecstatic circumstances, simplicity profound, watch me dance, watch the blood flow down, tears falling, fear calling, treading water, diversity drawn on shades of red, humanity dying, civilisations crying, sunlight fading, as the final moon rises...
Flesh designed to rip free, music to my ears, the cries and the pleads, a wish not granted, a sea not sailed, progress at the expenditure of life, when the soil is still warm, perceive, promote, promise the world, but don’t foolishly promise the cure, for the cure is not an end..
“Y-Y-Yo-You. W-W-What have YOU DONE!” Keith stammers as he staggers backwards clutching at his chest. Aaron smiles as he flicks the long locks of hair that have cascaded over his shoulders back behind him, and flippantly laughing as he does. “There is nothing I cannot do, y…” “Or won’t do!”
To live in pretend fame or die in fiery flame
K Is Silent k Is SiLeNt K iS siLENT kIsSiLeNt
If you like poetry, short stories, political rantings and/or articles then you have come to the right place.
Poems, Short stories, and more.
Write everyday for 365 days. Fact, fiction and everything in between.
Fan Fiction and Fan Art
so much to say and such little time
A domain for independent writing
Writing in the shadows
By Kel Dayheart
words of a wayward clown
A place for storytelling, poetry, and other wordy things. Come have a read!
The world where the arcane pervades all but rules few
Read on, it's good for the brain.
the genre of true crime is asking for a reinvention. just look at how it's dressed.
Short Stories - Mostly dark ones!
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
I'm Technically a Writer
beautiful thinking
Truths of mine, in which I hope you find yourselves
