These are my writings.

  • Featured,  Short Stories,  Works

    Lord of the Dome

    “Little rats, all my little rats.” The Lord of the Dome inhaled the damp rotten air with an impish grin, staring down upon the sniffing masses of his devoted followers. “Yes, yes. Drip goes the water to the tune, no gloom, of my glorious realm.”

  • Featured,  Short Stories,  Works

    The Trees of Evermore

    The forest watched Jared run. He could feel their eyes on him, even if he didn't believe it. He had grown to love these woods, and today he felt a part of them. He moved among them. Under branch, over fallen tree, around bush, and across stream, he ran, more akin to the forest than a passenger under its shadowy gaze.

  • Vignettes,  Works


    he lay broken because he must being so torn of flesh and mind how could he do else yet ponder the pitfalls of his twisted and muddled mind yet our Zea is struck with the difficulty of his lack his room stuffy and hot with not a small dose of irritating humidity and he screams how the hell am I supposed to get out of here but that does about nothing to calm the unrest they call his heart and somehow there is little else he can do in the confines of his self made sterile entrapment so he screams and screams as the chilly night blankets him in deceptive…

  • Vignettes,  Works

    What is Fear

    Fitful, he ponders its meaning. John hasn’t moved it from his porch in three days, fear being his master. The package would seem normal to most people but our dear friend is rather terrified. Now this might be perplexing, unless you understood the horror this box causes dear John, while he locks himself in his house for days. The food dwindles as apprehension rises. “What can I do,” he thinks. On the fourth day the answer seems as evasive as the rat he tried to catch last summer. He wearily sits down on his front doorstep, staring at his intruder with no less tension. Finally, he dares a peak at…

  • Short Stories,  Works

    The Meaning of Rocks

    The bottle slides from Illya’s delicate fingers, landing amidst wild and lush grass. She pinches the long green stocks with her bare toes. It’s soft, like a never ending fur made of life. The early dew coat her feet with chill. She doesn’t notice. “What’s this?” Illya picks up a rough stone, her youthful hands cupping its dark oval shape. A feeling itches at the back of her senses, tempting her out of reality. The rock gains meaning and changes before her eyes or is it in her eyes. It matters little to her. Even the obvious lie before her does not dissuade. This is what she wants and her…

  • Vignettes,  Works

    Coffee Thoughts

    Martha yawned, stretching her arms as she sat up in bed and tried not to wake her husband, who’s gotten distinctively grumpier in his old age. She stood and shuffled over to the door, down the creaky stairs and into the kitchen. Blinking through the oblivion of a fog filled head, she pushed the little black button. This button was simply the wonder and gift of her life. According to Martha, it was truly the greatest invention of man and her only necessity in life, except for dark chocolate with the girls on Sunday, but she wouldn’t talk about such things. Alfred isn’t supposed to know. Besides she was on…

  • Poems,  Works

    Night of Night

    Oh night, weary night Skip and hop my soul does wish But teary eyed of my spirit I lay awash with bed of dark Held in hands glimmer dark Such entities not to bear But strength the same Or power could it be Stretching thin the I Tender I feel Long path we tread A child’s step so gone What, what will bring Will I collapse, collapse it be to this weight So Sorrow of Sorrow’s Gate I think not For I as I be am too stubborn

  • Poems,  Works

    Where We Begin

    Unfoldeth thou in the rend so jagged and dark But tinged it be with lines of red Glowing of a passage that may scorch the skin To bear this burden I must do much So I sling the bag over my back Throw the goggles over my eyes Check that all is prepared My heart beats Which is good, but the rhythm is a bit too fast for my liking I lick my lips They are chapped The heat burns against my face But it is the path I chose So wish me luck For endeavor I must Into the pits of foulest despair I shall surely return without a…

  • Poems,  Works


    Water of night Ever bright Glimmering iridescent With vague dreams Of heavenly seas Ever bright Splendid lights See into me Without fear I weep Splendid lights What a sight Simmering hope With eternal thoughts Of fragrant thee What a sight Serene plight Intrepid heart Without doubt I believe

  • Poems,  Works


    Blessed be Chosen words Met in harmony. This dialogue’s dance Did reveal Minds alike. How we laughed. Knowledge was exchanged. Both, we gained, And it was Beyond idle discourse. Now we are still A puzzle in our hands, These fitted pieces Of mystery’s birth Found their home. In the beginning I did seek Yet, it was not I that found But that which makes us meet. Therefore, blessed be, All and two hence more Your triad of brothers Entwined by dearest mother. Thank you for you. Sincerely me.

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