Poetry Blogs (2019, short story)

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A passage from the book I'll never write

We had this connection like nobody else on this planet, whether there was one, ten or one hundred degrees of separation between us at any given time. It was as if our world was constantly contained within the constraints of a children's game only the two of us knew the rules to. I couldn't look across a room without his eyes instinctively meeting up with mine. Those same eyes never once looked at ...

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growing uplovepassageshort storyteen drama

Til Morning Light

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{Til Morning Light}


I've doubted my

happiness along

awaiting for my newer

sins til morning light

and as I rewrite all

of my stories and

compete with my

never-ending ends

that seems to never

be ending for me daily 

and I don't have time

for no imposters

because I will only

fade away at the

rumbling watery

morning light while

rewriting all my new

...

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Poempoetryshort poemsshort poetryshort storystorythinking out loudTina Gloverwriting out loud

The Darkness

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{The Darkness}


Your whole 
aura is 
giving off 
that deep 
down darkness 
that we all 
fear to love 
but you are 
making yours 
absolutely 
intoxicating 
to resist 

 

©Tina Glover All Rights Reserved/ One_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer 2017 but posting here on February 21,2018

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fictional piecehumorouslivingOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina GloverpoemPoetryshort storythinking out loudTina Gloverwordy queenwriting

The Moment

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{The Moment}


The moment 
when happiness
arrives but some
stubborn asshole 
comes along to 
screw that up for 
you so steer clear 
of all assholes 
that's even 
including you 

 

©Tina Glover All Rights Reserved/ One_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer 2017 but posting here on February 21,2018 

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humorouslifelivingOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina GloverPoempoetryquoteshort storyTina Gloverwriting

M A T C H S T I C K

“And to his rock be bound eternal; forever gifting man all that is infernal.
Bound by chain, suffering as the eagle’s meal; freedom bought by the one who shall steal.
Unto the eagle’s beak his blood be lash; to control he who shall become our man of ash.”

There’s something about the heavenly reflection of that silver-tongued devil which comforts me.
The cigarette pursed between his lips, con...

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Prometheusshort story

short #3

It was on the sixth day of the arctic voyage that I realized that I hadn't brought any tampons. I was so wrapped up in becoming one of them that I scarcely had a thought about my feminine attributes. It was my adventurous demeanour that had brought me here, along with a few gifts that had been graciously donated by mother nature: a strong jaw that squared off my face and gave me a sort-of hellish ...

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short story

short #2

Us boys started off towards a thickening wood, Tom leading the way, making small chat about the shortened seasons this year while holding branches for me to pass through. As we neared a thickened grove of trees, I could hear a sad melody emerge from in front of us. I gave a start and reached out to touch Tom's jacket, however I noticed an upwards angle to his mouth that I had not yet seen. An expr...

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short story

short #1

My husband cheated on me, what an asshole. Why she used a typewriter to record this daunting thought was beyond her. Perhaps it was the slow but definite click, like the ticking of the clock. A reminder that although time feels still, it moves relentlessly on. Shit, it's dark. She whipped around to face the clock that covered most of the wall. It's huge hands were pointing to something but this cl...

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short story

A Poem A Day For A Year & Self-Evaluation - 18/01

So Sunday is the day on which I am dedicating to self-evaluation. As you may know, at the moment I am going through a bout of depression, which comes and goes and affects me to the point where I freeze at the thought of doing anything even remotely helpful. I am trying to combat this by forcing myself to do things that I see as ‘putting myself out there for the world.’ This blog and Poem A Day For...

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bunburycreative writingdepressionflash fictionlife writingmagazinepoemspoetryself-helpshort storySilly poems

A Poem A Day For A Year - 17/01/15

I’m a little drunk off lucky dip tokens at our local bar so today’s blog will be brief. I think some of you may appreciate that after yesterday’s anti-feminism post. Though that post garnered the highest reception since I started doing this so maybe I should lay into good causes more often. Oxfam, I’m coming for you next.

As far as weeks go, it’s not been a good one this week. My productivity h...

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basketballcreative writingflash fictionlife writingpoetryPoets & Performance Poetryshort storywheelchairwriting

Short Story - The Last Meal of The Condemned

I know it's not poetry, but I have performed it once, so I hope that makes it okay. My short story The Last Meal of the Condemned is available to read online at Litro:

http://www.litro.co.uk/2014/07/the-last-meal-of-the-condemned

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fictionGerard McKeownlitroshort story

How am I going to Explain This?

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I killed a man. It was self defense. But God forgive me I killed him.

I told him, "Don't mess with me. You'll regret it." But he didn't listen. The next second he was writhing in pain. I could tell his knees wanted to buckle, but they held firm.

When I released him I said, "Walk out that door and don't mess with anyone ever." He turned as if to leave but lunged at me.  The knife in his hand ...

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Killedmindshort story

A Small Story about a Small Town

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The small town had struggled to survive for years.

In it's heyday it had built a church. It even had an organ

whose pipes shown like silver.  The organist pressed the pedals

as is she were making wine to be served as communion.

The church doubled as a school for a small group of students.

It even h...

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familyshort storySmall town

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