Just Write

Blog, story, poem - whatever.

What do you all want?

I have been busy so have not done as promised with promoting the site. Tell me what you would all like to see and I will see what can be done.

I can promote - what do you want in terms of functionality? Mention of Avatars will be met with a severe beating.

Whoop!

No longer married.

The green car

The new Nissan Leaf, coming into production in 2013 is electric car.

The future is here.

Can admin

Please tell me why Preview does'nt work when i want to post a photo?

Beize toi, chien noir!

Been thinking. Mostly about forgiveness and letting go. But thinking isn’t enough so I have been taking some actions. See, that black dog has been around for a couple of months, gnawing and snarling and insidiously creeping right into my soul.

The Disappearance of Maggie McDowell - 1

A whisper of wind rolled over the tongue of the tide,
which lapped at the toes of a pair of fourteen-hole Dr. Martens,
jet black in the blink of the lighthouse eye.

Hung-over,
and with the smell of prostitute perfume still strong on his breath,
the investigating officer, a man named Smith,
said ‘fuggit’ to Forensics’ request to please not smoke:

A kiss

“If I kissed you, what would you taste of,” she asked.

That's not news

Just because a timid man, fearful even from his healthy youth,
plucks nervously at his mortality and stammers, every day:
"We are going to die",
This does not make him a prophet.

Flash fiction -

A short fairytale with a happy ending :-

On demand!

Seeing that KC so politely asked me to write something... here goes....

Recovery

So, there I am at yoga last week and a guy asks me for coffee. I figured, what the hell, no way on earth I am interested in any men at the moment. But this one was nice and he found a way to grope my arse…

The dance

She danced with him,
A dance that tasted, smelled of sin,
But still so desperately unfair,
They blended as one, not a pair

Climate change

Just so you know, I was really upset that I could not post this to Climate Change

Blood is thicker than water, or anything else for that matter

She was nervous. Uncertain. Would he let her share this intimacy or not? It was a long shot, but she was craving. Sex had nothing on this. It was the one thing they shared, without fear or shame. Yet it was over now. Ties broken. The lovers they had once been were long gone. Yet the desire was burning.

Maybe I posted this already?

Vengeance is not the same as justice - they are not even from
the same bloodline. There's a Chinese saying: when embarking on a journey of revenge,
first dig two graves.
The obvious implication being: while revenge may kill your enemy,
it will surely kill you.

Death is but a chap standing on the next corner wearing a rented tuxedo

Death’s just around the corner
of ninth and twenty-second;
swearing at the rain, he straightens his over-comb,
and summons a lit cigarette from the depths of hell,
which hangs from his chapped lips
like a limp dick.
With his right hand he bawls a fist,
while the thumb and ring finger on his left hand
sink away into his skull;
he’s pretending to inhale (smoking kills)

La Lune Bleue

As Marcus closed his eyes at the whisper of pain,
and rattled a sword at that ghost, Migraine,
he heard a distant sweet and mournful refrain –
it seemed like a clear and soft violin's strain.

With eyes closed, he opened them and looked around
He was standing in what appeared to be a carnival ground.
Again he heard the gentle and melancholy sound,

Really?

I don't know men at all. I think I always knew that.

How do you stop this?

I have fallen in love, real love, only twice. When I say real, I mean that total giving of yourself to someone else. This is why I have only had a broken heart twice in my life. Once when I was 16 and now.

The Delivery

An explosive sizzle over the tarmac,
and through the cracks in the windscreen
(which spread like invisible spiders' webs),
the highway snakes through the hailstones,
and climbs yet another hill.

Townes’ voice sounds thirsty on the FM,
the eyes in the rearview lost, doodled-upon road maps
(clichéd with just a tad of Cabernet Sauvignon);
the driver leans over, pops the cubbyhole,

Syndicate content