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  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I can hear pounding. This pounding noise is not the same as the sound of dark clouds pouring down onto tar or your bedroom window. Nor can it be likened to the sound of your heart beating fast or heavy when you're frightened, though I can hear this too. This pounding is a gradual sound; it is sl...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Hunting, lurking, eyes lingering, thinking should we move? fluttering, chirping, wings beating against the space their eyes reprove. For a time I let you think that you were stalking me. For a time I let you lie to yourself; left you poised in your secrecy. Were you surprised to find me pre...
  • Poetry > Sonnet
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    No one writes a poem about technology And rarely written is modern society We relate emotion, nature and poetry Though most of us prefer a corporate trilogy to the beauty and motion of the willow tree Sometimes we write about poverty Modern depictions fulfill our need for tragedy St...
  • Poetry > Sonnet
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    I bit down hard On my unsuspecting tongue And the blood pooled to my teeth Then it had nowhere to run I could taste the life Metal mint with every breath And it taunted me with its still And it taunted me with its set...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Embers dance on faded wallpaper, dappling the living room in fire light; burning the couch, smoldering on the worn wooden floorboards, and illuminating the evidence that last night was not a dream where sleep-crusted eyes trace each worn groove. Her footfalls, as she places one foot in front of the ...
  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    A drop of sweat lingers on her forehead, glistening in the afternoon light that beats down on its victims. Her voice rings out, bellowing her protest, though it has a harsh new hoarseness to it acquired over the length of the morning. She sits cross-legged on a peace-sign-painted Volkswagen bus, ho...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Silken smoke smothers The bleeding windshield, Droplets deflecting, Meshing, melding, To the glass, eying the hazed backdrop of green with Gumdrop sight, lazy lids; It glimmers, stagnant, staring Vicariously through me, And I think ‘be my Aqua ambiance’....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Sweet, thick, warm scents, Slippers shuffle over Shadows sprawled on faded tile, Beige burned golden by Day’s first flame. The coffee pot moans A sugary appeal and I turn to see where Her words once poured sickly sweet over My bitter, sleep-sensitive ears, “Would you like some coffee?...
  • Poetry > Limerick
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    Waning darkness; bleed and taper, Shuffles of the morning paper, Liquid sunrise steaming hot; Moans and groans of coffee pots. Enticing, rich, fresh-brewed delight, “Grande mocha, skim milk, right?” Starbucks; laptops, schedules tight, For exams a pot at night. Moments on the lips, Ple...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I've been spending more time with art As of lately; It’s spilling its thoughts Trying to figure out How to create me...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Evergreens tower in unity from the forest floor where limpid sunlight bleeds into unyielding shadows. They stare down upon-- hover over me, and it is increasingly ominous. An aura of malevolence leers thick as fog smothering, encompassing, the sepulchral forest depths, the likes of which...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Cicadas sing, chirping serenity, gently chiding my plight as my legs whisk in ethereal sweeps over vast fields. I am as a forest fire; swift and light. My fare skin is subject to a spectral glow; garbed only in the spattered porcelain of a sun-nixed sky; toes caked with gobs of dew...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Facial wound agape, I utter new blood aloud: Puckered lesion din....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Ocean twine constricts The shore from which we promote hypocrisy In fathomed ideology Whilst liquid life slithers In fragile rose ribbons Rushing just beneath the surface where Notions are commissioned By ocean twine. We promote freedom, We promote democracy, From the fragile flesh shor...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Distinction of war; fine as glass but less reflective. A picture centered boldly, distraught glass bathed in a tinted lacquer, hung precariously by cobweb thought. Swivel light to warp the picture, re-angle and distort, save for matter itself-- it is the premise you mandate, so abstract, alm...

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