Performance at Warlocks Folly SaloonIt was a busy night at the Warlock's Folly Saloon. It was exactly the sort of down and out bar frequented by the sorry segment of humanity that polite society trends to ignore. Drunks, prostitutes both on duty and off, hard luck hucksters and low life criminals were all frequent customers.
The foundations of the decrepit building had been laid ages ago though the walls and ceiling had been burned down and rebuilt countless times since then. The current iteration of Warlock's Folly had been rebuilt only thirty years ago after burning to the foundation during a riot.
Nothing of the previous building had survived except a beat up old grand piano tucked away on the corner of warped wooden stage. It was purchased third or fourth hand from some bankrupt lesser noble many many years ago, and had not been properly tuned or cared for since. By some miracle, the flames did not consume the once grand instrument. Most nights, the sorry scorched thing sat quiet and unused. On extra busy nights, it
the song of a roamerAnd darling, I've been gone for a long, long time. Your eyesthe song of a roamer1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
are still that steely gunpowder blue, but your hair has grown long,
and there's a softer curve to your waist
and freckles on your shoulder I don't remember,
and I think,
What have I missed?
You tell me about the weddings
the divorces. You tell me
about the babies
and the losses, and how last year
your dog died--easy, in his sleep--
and there is a hollow lack in you,
a space reserved for things that won't come back.
Long ago, was there a space like that
When did it collapse--when did it
fold in on itself
under the weight of things that matter more?
I tell you about Cambodia. I paint
the jungles for you, breathe the crushing wet heat
of it into your lungs. I tell you
about the kids in Africa
and how the heat is different there--
belligerent and fierce.
I tell you how much you would have liked Barbados,
and how much you would have hated Rome.
And I remember all the things I
can't tell you--all the things I don't hav
ChloeChloe was born in the pouring rain and blinding dark, under a thunderstorm that cut power to five counties and lingered for days. Her first memories were damp and earthy and fresh--watercolor paintings of wildflower fields, thunderheads, and pale yellow dawns.Chloe1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She grew up with summers swimming in lurid heat and trembling cicada calls; in winters soft with snowfall and tree limbs upraised to the icy light. She was a tiny sun in herself, glowing effortlessly. Plants reached up to her, swayed with her voice. Given enough space and enough time, her hands could have delved into the earth and come back up trailing with trees and vines, with berries falling from her fingertips and thick pale roots curled around her wrists.
I met Chloe in the middle of one electric summer, when the heat was aggressively breathtaking and I had to continuously swipe sweat from my eyelashes. Chloe was a breath of undying spring--cool to the touch. She tasted like almonds and cinnamon and clean, wet dirt, and like
stolen dog-eared mapsAudio version.stolen dog-eared maps1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
we will run
directionless but on
until the sky recedes before us.
we will outlast the horizons
sink teeth into every sunset
until we chase
what chases us--
until the oceans below hold no demons
the galaxies above
we will lose ourselves
until there is nothing left of us but
Dark Moon Girl WIPI remember the scars that crisscrossed your back.Dark Moon Girl WIP7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Your cerulean eyes, gazing into the starry night.
We had a strange kind of love. We never shared a bed, or embraced, or took vows. But nevertheless I loved you, and I think that in your own way you loved me.
You used to sing, but only when you thought no one was watching.
You never let me look at your scars for long, until the last day we spent together. At the time, I didn’t understand why you let me sketch you. You’d never bared yourself to me before, let alone to sketch you.
You were never really mine- but you did your best to share yourself with me. Why me, I’ll never know.
When I built the small pyre to send your body up to the heavens, I used the salt rocks you loved so much, the ones that could make the flames dance in any color.
Even though I was never one for religion, I took one of your silver bracelets to that small shrine at the top of the hill where we used to picnic. It was dusty and forgotten, but
page onethe waves are calling.page one10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
watch--stormbound, the breakers
arch up to clutch at the unyielding stones
with a roar and a hiss and a sigh;
gather themselves back and
the sea is patient, and your limestone fear
you will be
you will be beautiful.
the waves are calling.
This War Isn't OverHis foot fell softly as is hit the wet leaves that littered the ground, barely breaking the blissful silence. Above him the tree's branches reached for each other, tangling together as if in embrace. Peace echoed through the isle of trees. Such peace that could be found nowhere else. He took another step, slipping his bare feet amongst the leaves to touch the earth. It would look strange to anyone watching. In full armour but he had left his boots at the edges of the trees. Here he could smell it, the rich scent of nature all around him, he could feel it against his feet, against his skin as branches brushed his face and tugged his braid.This War Isn't Over1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Oran," his name drifted across with wind. His eyes lifted to meet hers, dark to light.
She waited for him, amongst the trees. Her dress was a beautiful shifting colour, appearing white only to fade to a shade of pink of orange in the light. An ache blossomed in his chest at the sight of her. How he loved her.
He could remember meeting her, it seemed
birds--the thing about us is that the truth is so simplebirds--9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
but in order to hear it, we need to make it beautiful.
darling, these are just words.
these are just words and they smell like
lavender and roses,
perfumes of backyard jungle orchards after rain,
but that's your own imagination.
i haven't done anything beautiful with these words.
i'm humming a lullaby-
under my breath-
humming in flat tones.
tell me why loving doesn't keep my heart as still as i'd thought it would.
tell me, will the longing ever fade?
you don't like my truth, can't like this truth
because it's too simple and it's not beautiful.
the truth is that i live with the birds,
always racing the sun to tomorrow morning
and you hold me so tightly,
beg me to stay in love today.
i am in love.
but i will always belong to the birds.
Naiad SisterJoin us now, oh daughter fairNaiad Sister3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With pale skin and winter-hair.
Leave the dead-dry land of feet
And come where the water is cool and deep.
We are grasses to your lily-flower
Forever dancing in shady bowers.
Oh, please join us, water-maid!
Exchange a tail for those shaky legs.
Mortals live for but a day
While we have centuries to have our say.
Join us, sweet sister, in the cool of the deep
Where tendrils and serpents in darkness sleep.
Forsake that lover who toils in dirt
His heart will heal and you'll never be hurt.
For should he travel to the pool so sweet
With waters and currents curious and deep
Let you entice him further on down
He's yours forever if you make him drown.
So join us, oh join us, and be not alone!
There is no anguish in the heart of a stone.
Be smooth and lovely as the water-smoothed rocks
And always be steadfast during life's shocks.
Be with us forever, oh sister so fair
With watery skin and wintery hair.
with thanks to frost Now with a reading.with thanks to frost7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
two roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
and here you are:
facing a choice between
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
this is what