creative writing
-
“Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love;…
-
I’ve retired from naming shit after myself. The last one ended in a divorce decree and a lawyer’s bill. A building, park, or library wing? Yeah, I can see it now—crumbling foundations, overgrown weeds, or a dusty annex no one visits. Hard pass.
-
Marylyn murmured “good night” through the phone, and Hank fired back a curt “Night,” thumb smashing the end call button before her rejection could hit—just a silent void now, no echo of the old days when a handset’s clunk marked the end. Gone was the heft of plastic in hand, the small speaker and microphone…
-
Struttin’ Your StuffYou’re struttin’ your stride,threads loud and bright,pants huggin’ tight,feelin’ just right.Shirt’s a snug tease,assets in view,glidin’ with ease,king of the crew. Think John Travolta,Stayin’ Alive on blast,(beat thumps—boom, you’re fast),head bobbin’ side to side,back and forth, so fly,every eye’s glued,you’re the guy. Boom, boom,chakka, chakka,strut’s in full swing,you’re owning everything—then your big toe-tipsnags…
-
“The years apart folded into a single breath,and the greater homecoming—to her, to Him—lit the universe with a quiet, unending hello.” It’s been twenty-five years, give or take a shimmer,since I last saw your shadow spill across the floor,a silhouette I knew for thirty-three tender turns of the earth.I’m older now—older than you ever carved…
-
Most people don’t get Newton’s laws of motion and how they secretly run their lives. Let’s break down the first law, nice and simple. Part one: “A thing at rest stays at rest.” Translation? If you’re parked on the couch dreaming about change—your life, a new habit, whatever—it’s not gonna budge until you do. Nothing…
-
(A Greek Tragedy in Verse) [Prologos: The Dreamer’s Lament]O Fates, cruel weavers of the night’s design,An ache gnaws deep, a thread malign.A nightmare crashes, wild and unbound,Spinning my soul to Stygian ground.I yearn for death’s release, its silent shroud—Yet all’s a lie, a phantom’s taunt aloud:Pain, a game, a smileless jest,A demon’s curse upon my…
-
Aloofness her shield,Warding off rejection’s bite,Numbing heart and soul—She shunned warm embraces’ glow,Left cold in solitude’s grasp.
-
“I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.”— William Ernest Henley, from “Invictus” (1875) Bathsheba, Veiled in MistI watch, unblinking,through the shadowed pane—I’m a silhouette cloaked in intent,my gaze a thread you can’t hold.Your form falters under my stare,cloth clings too tight,a confession I don’t need to hear.I feel…
BB Grey--musings 