A Treatise On Before
Short Religious Story A Before Treatise Before time, space, matter, force or motion came forth in power from the Creator of All, His Seraphim, Lucifer also called the Morning Star blaspheme with mutinous...
Author: Debra Bishop
Bussing It
Short Realistic Fiction It was a perfect day for resting in a heated tub or relaxing on an overstuffed chair, blanketed by a familiar novelist. The late autumn air had brought a chill...
Happiness, Again?
Happiness Poems Happiness, Again? She, the wife of his youth ne’er replaced her who bore him in time. His coming forth, a spitting cobra of bitterness not weaned but sharpened baby teeth, in reincarnation. No...
The Man Who…
Stream of Consciousness Fiction The Man who … So busy with things to do, things to say, things to explore, things to learn and to see that he had no time, even...
None So Blind
Life Poems None so Blind… Love came in stillness, creating within itself countless heavenly spaces of spontaneous spore vapors and fertile, seeded grounds in tender and timeless hovering, completing cosmos of expanding brilliant,...
Psalms for a Dying People
Free Verse Poems By the shabby shag covering on the sofa, we sat down in banal indifference when we turned on Sunday Night Football cheering like Romans while Nero set aflame candles of...
A Darker Shade of Merry: Unmasked
Christmas Poetry Billionaires on the cheap market streams of valley dreams to Walmart’s $9 hourly workers trampled on by covetous, just above the rubber-necking credit carding, forty hour weekly braille needing, maxed out,...
Orange Contemplations
Christmas Poems Pumpkin love and Halloween goblins on the eve of ghostly party scenes. Tangerine sunsets for my veranda’s view while shades of cadmium Monarch butterflies float in autumn’s blossom skies for all...
Watching Too
Freestyle Poems Late into the night it watches me doing my necessary duties, complaining on the phone, reading in bed, setting my alarms, making preparations for the coming tomorrow, like an estranged lover...
First
Love Poems There is a face I love. A skin I crave to press against. Eyes I never refuse. Ears perked and stretched at my wrestling cries. Hands I must handle. Legs that...
Calling Names
Free Verse Poems You keep calling me names and James Will’s tarred shadow swings from Cairo’s fragrantly stark magnolias repeating Colts’ reframing shells upon the Shawnees’ skinned at its tannery. You keep calling...
