Amphibious Words

Conversations Word amphibians hold the real treasures felt in the veins. But we talk more, more. Make more words known to each other. Chime this topic. Ring out that story. Wring out absolutely the whole truth. While the word amphibians live in those tones; they also swim in the extract of transmission. – I wrote

Another short story

ScrapsYard.com | Congratulations | Forward this Picture Here is another short story completed for the exercise of completion. This tale developed in response to a balloon in a florist’s van. I’m also love to hear your ideas for story prompts. Please share them with me by dropping a line below. Hand-tie Harry arrives at 11am

Listen to me, you golden beauty

Livelihood If you were a beast and it was May, I would say Listen to me, you golden beauty, we must walk through those flames. Do not fear. Shhh, calm, calm your hooves. Calm your trample, trampling. Look at me. With my hands to the muzzle I lead the prosperity of my summer yield, garlanded

I thought it my apprenticeship

Allegiance When others mocked you I stood firm and said, Your vision would be for our betterment. In happy fealty I volunteered, Believing your requests would teach a path Worthwhile for more than monetary gain; I thought it my apprenticeship’s terrain. Your fair-minded way inspired me. I trusted the value of your guarantee. This confidence

Gone are the cars

A short story, written in one sitting this afternoon (and I confess, not yet thoroughly proofed). This post is offered in the spirit of completion energy and is inspired by my current read, Jurgen Wolff’s “Your Creative Writing Masterclass” (Nicholas Brealey, 2012). The poem weaves together last night’s dream, some thoughts spurred by Earth Day and

After the storm

After the storm The scenes and sentences dislodged, brought the ring and rat-a-tat. The ladder walked past, did not stop to receive the repairman. There was a ready welcome, prepared since the disturbance, to re-set three tiles. The blue door climbed the roof. — Twitter Facebook

We still seek our lodestars, our North Stars, our supernovas

Beacons for the utterly lost A bright star led seekers and wise men. A bright light gave comfort to the night and travellers crossing. A bright beam from the shore struck ships from death-knell rocks. Today’s nights, made bright with bulbs and glare, blind the guiding lights we still seek everywhere. – I like that

We chose to take a ride

Habits are habits In a friendly coincidence, we pretended not to understand the fumes of heavy traffic. We chose to take a ride entirely on a road to nowhere. Nothing happened. We paid for petrol, an absurd sum, a kind of ransom. – On my calendar, I scheduled in POST for today, meaning come Wednesday

in the glow of celebration

By ribbons from branches Where are we today, you and I? Each, together? Further, closer, the same as yesterday? Suspended from our meeting- point of a hundred points, each weighing down the end of a branch. The celebration season done we will be rustled back into the box where our meeting-points of a thousand tones

This falling debris is your life

Borage Flower by Yummifruitbat (Own work) [CC BY-SA 2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons Accept This falling debris is your life; Too late to snap the hinge. Your children’s children will collect cast snakeskins along this route on which you will breathe your last Even with your eyes still open and your legs that drag on.