I.R. > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

There’s a stain in the silence, Deep and purple like the little Drip of wine forgotten, sleeping At the bottom of the goblet. Th..

All is full of love, full of blindness, It drips from the mortified walls, The patterns on the wallpaper Blushing from what just happened. ..

It was so blue and deep Like a pool in the temple. I fell fast from the floor To the ceiling and sank. Water splashed, returned ..

In our marriage bed, lust will lie In the middle like a feverish child As the cat purrs down the hall And the coffee waits to be brewed. ..

It’s so tribal, the way your eardrums beat Like ghosts in caverns beating on ghost drums And ghost tigers growling in the darkness. ..

It just materialized while listening to a song...like most of the time.

Take me to where the tour bus is parked And share your three day old bread. I don’t care that the bus is empty And that the seats a..

Harpsichords know what I’m talking about, With their lovely red shell of wood, pretty Gold leafs floating across the green lacquer, Wit..

For those who gave till there was no more, For the blood that rained down into the tub, Painted white like ivory or a bleached stone, Into th..

Dead Cat I. It’s a nag at first, Like somebody pulling On your pants. The wooden floors Don’t seem clean, ..