Latest Submissions

Distemper

Distemper: early type of paint before emulsion; a deranged condition of mind ...
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/ / Poetry / 4 Comments on Distemper / 95 words / /

Carlton Tallis RIP.

 This is the intro to a longer longer story about the demise of Carlton Tallis ...
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/ / Non-Fiction / 2 Comments on Carlton Tallis RIP. / 515 words / /

Lament Of The Ninety Nine Percent

In honor of singer songwriter Joni Mitchell whose song, Big Yellow Taxi, inspired this write.     Shortly after returning from a UK trip home I pulled into my rural bank's parking lot to find it crammed, wing to wing, with black birds. They'd apparently 'touched down' to rest during their late winter/early spring migration back to their nesting grounds. In my wildly imaginative head with its ever oddly firing neurons I saw their occupation ...
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Parting of the Ways

Why did she say “I’ll be back soon”when she knew that it was a lie?It was not simply an ‘Arrivederci’but a deliberate and final goodbye. She felt stifled and needed spaceand said so in her Dear John letter.As long as the status quo remainedher situation would not get  better. Was well aware of the consequence-  the likelihood of an ugly divorce –but life with the newly found freedomwould significantly alter its course. The world would ...
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/ / Poetry / 11 Comments on Parting of the Ways / 173 words / /

The Dawn That Waits

Drifting into midnight, loosening ties to waking illusions, we enter the greater place. Vaguely familiar but shielded by misty confusion to those who fear. For death comes nightly and resurrection with waking. So why reject the natural progression of day to night, or life to life again? Unpredictable, perhaps challenging, the path ahead... but earth years are little more than sign posts on a hazy, forgotten road. And Karma rules, as sure as my belief ...
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/ / audio, Poetry / 2 Comments on The Dawn That Waits / 145 words / /

Bluebells of Scotland

Will you walk in the Bluebells with me? For times are changing; And only yesterday I was young and now, older, tomorrow? older still…Come, meet me in the woods, where light is shredded by the pines and ground becomes our sacred bed, full circle for one born to love out doors.I will caress you in sun-speckled splendour; Skin on skin in moss and leaves, Heart to heart and swapping breath for sighs alive in the ...
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/ / audio, Poetry / 10 Comments on Bluebells of Scotland / 96 words / /

Coming back…

This is in response to a 5 hundred word challenge that was submitted on the aternative uka site but didn't make it over to this one. Other postings seemed to make it okay? ...
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/ / droubbles, Non-Fiction / 4 Comments on Coming back… / 528 words / /

The Street

I kept asking myself why. Why was I going back? Would you? Will you? Why? The M1 and then the M6, mile after mile, and this question kept nagging me, like a lingering hangover, or teeth set on edge by a cold. Going back – was it something everyone wanted to do or did? To relive the past, for what it was worth? It wasn’t as if anyone I knew or had known lived there ...
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/ / Fiction / 4 Comments on The Street / 821 words / /

“Monday Bloody Monday”

Head bowed against siling rain Collar up shielding ears Hat brim a leaking spout Shoes beat a tattoo as He Lowried, Uphill, Cobbled streets. And cursed his need of meat And bread And eggs And milk for tea. A passing car scythed Gutter water Over polished shoes He raised his fist And cursed a curse That, against the wind skirl Went unheard A shopping list Suit out from Wizard cleaners. Perhaps, if he had the ...
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Critic’s Choice

We all take criticism of our work in different ways. Sometimes we thank the critic and sometimes we are cut to the quick by brutal honesty. If I say your poetry’s great Please don’t reciprocate Just say what you think It won’t cause a stink I will not shout or berate If you find my wit makes you weary If you think my poems are dreary If my purple prose Gets right up your nose ...
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/ / Non-Fiction, Poetry / 11 Comments on Critic’s Choice / 160 words / /

Vitamin Sea

The reason I feel so alive, Is ‘cos I learned to dive Between you and me Vitamin sea Is all you need to survive ...
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/ / Non-Fiction, Poetry / 3 Comments on Vitamin Sea / 15 words / /

Repeater

A corpse in a copse. I'd gotten to the point when my life was all but perfect. But then my best friend was killed. Murdered in a horrendous fashion. Well, I say 'best friend' but he was more accurately described as my enemy. Every one's enemy in fact. he only became my best friend after his death. Now this may all sound very confusing and contradictory but I'm sure that as we progress you will ...
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/ / fantasy, Fiction, LOTR / 4 Comments on Repeater / 1401 words / /

Intermezzo

The piano was unusual. It had lain undisturbed behind boxed cargo. The soiled tarpaulin told of a decade’s neglect. It would have remained undiscovered but for the highlanders’ committed quest for alcohol. Rab Niven lavished attention on it and, from unpromising beginnings, he brought it to life. ‘Gie us The Intermezzo Rab. You ken the wan.’ The small, malformed Glaswegian was a private in the HLI. The audience of mixed Highlanders endorsed the request; everyone’s ...
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/ / Fiction / 1 Comment on Intermezzo / 1874 words / /

Chess and Memory.

The competition asked for ‘A short factual – maybe humorous article about the problems associated with getting older, from a personal perspective.’ Some of the responses were predictable:- aches and pains, losing hair and teeth, failing eyesight, losing driving ability, etc. I wrote the following, and submit it here just to see if I have done things correctly and if it appears in the right place. It’s just possible some of you may identify with ...
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/ / Non-Fiction / 5 Comments on Chess and Memory. / 1092 words / /

Trapped

Trapped. Goad 'A'm Hungry, whit A wid dae furra a16 0z steak wi aw the trimmings, onion rings and chips, aw that's whit a could go right noo,”Charlie mused. “Right, ma turn, Cottage pie wi cabbage, loads ae cabbage, wi a salty broon gravy,” said Davy smacking his lips. The lamp flickered again; the pit walls could be seen seeping with water, running down to pour away in a stream six inches wide. They had ...
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/ / Non-Fiction / 5 Comments on Trapped / 355 words / / UKA PICK!

The Best?

The Best? We are surrounded by it, we are forced-fed it: candy-floss sentiments, pink and fluffy asinine clichés, the disposable phrases that bedeck cards and gifts. Like Christmas, there is that insidious pressure to conform. What if she was the source of constant pain, emotional damage the ongoing battle with insanity/sanity. What if she manipulated, triangulated, got drunk on sympathy? What if she wasn’t caring; what if she only wanted others to think she was? ...
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/ / Poetry / 2 Comments on The Best? / 80 words / /

Electric John

He was fed and nourished from the lives of others having no descernible life of his own. To the cast members of The Rugby Players he was 'Electric John', responsible for Lights, Limes and Spots. The Stage Crew called him 'John' for some unfathomable reason. Being artistic and believing ourselves blessed with a waspish sense of humour, we felt it terribly witty to use such an adjective on a man possessed of no dynamism whatsoever ...
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/ / Non-Fiction / No Comments on Electric John / 337 words / /

Existential Moments

are the only true memories          A butterfly broken by a cast wind tumbled to my feet   wings now concealing shrouds still spreading beauty   Real memories remain for those of witnessed worth   for others only the mantle departed life endowed ©:Goth:March:2016 ...
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/ / Poetry / 10 Comments on Existential Moments / 35 words / /

Life Song

I sucked the marrow out of the bone of life And make it whistle for me the song of my death; And my death shall lead my life like a mother goose. I begin now at 45, Let loose my tongue, And hurl my words at the world. Through the folly of my fallen body and failing health, I lie because I can, and believe in nothing for nothing’s sake; And I perfume my breath ...
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/ / Poetry / No Comments on Life Song / 74 words / /