The Author Stew webpage – Stories & Poems
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
Pope Goes the Weasel is another story in the Trumped Up View series that takes a look at an alternate reality that closely mirrors our own. This mini fiction is about a pair of men who discuss if the President would make a good pope.
Adult language. Safe For Work (SFW).
Read all the Trumped Up Views story on my stories page.
Orgasms
Hot, fiery explosions of pent up
Energy
Let loose in one single moment
Maybe drawn out
Maybe no
But that single spark
That instant
When everything is
Released
That!
I want that.
But not just a physical orgasm
No
I want to a release of the mind
An intellectual orgasm
Blow my mind, let it leak
Dripping off my tongue with articulated interpretation
Precipitous sentiments of cerebral provocation
My mind goes blank, a mental release
This orgasm of the mind
Milk my thoughts through scintillating conversation
Let my thoughts explode
Until I reach nirvana
Give me an orgasm of the soul
Let our spirits speak, soul to soul
The universe that beats in your chest
Synchronous with mine
Our ancestors speak, our angels cry, our demons devise
Spiritual semen drips into our third eye
Impregnating our conscious with passionate visions
On a plane beyond
I want to come with you
Wherever you go
I want to be there too
I want to be your flow
I want to come together
To create a one from two
Birds of a feather
Me and you
Come
Let us
Share an orgasm
A Taste of Stew
A collection of poems from seductive and spicy to thoughtful and observant. 30 poems from the AuthorStew blog and scattered across the Internet gathered together in this chapbook collection. Something for everyone and every mood. We’re sure there is something within this collection to delight you.
Buy it here!
Two threats, open love letter
Wet my whistle the story’s steamy
Clear cut quaint question asked
“Who will be my last love?” you ask.
I answer in art
As is my way with meaning
It is I you yearn to love
Don’t dream about me at night
In wondrous fits of flight
Don’t you undress me in dreams
Ripping apart satin seams
Looking to loose my buttons
I know how this story ends
I will not be led into such a nightmare
Shall I be spurned, belittled
Written off without one touch of skin
How the hell did love die
Before care could even begin
I cry ice cold tears
My heart hurts, no medicine
Can save my crushed seduction
This was a prompt from dVerse. See it below:
For today’s MTB prompt our poetry follows the style of The Alliterisen, created by Udit Bhatia. It is a 7-line poem (septet) containing a set number of alliterations per line and adhering to a specific syllable structure.
Alliterisen poems can be either complex or rhyming. Choose either one.
a 7 line poem
2 alliterations on every line
choose a syllabic count of 7 or more thus:
1st line- x syllables [e.g. 7]
2nd line- x+2 syllables [e.g. 9]
3rd line- x-1 syllables [e.g. 6]
4th line- (x+2)-1 syllables [e.g. 8]
5th line- x-2 syllables [e.g. 5]
6th line- (x+2)-2 syllables [e.g. 7]
7th line- x syllables [e.g. 7]
a 7 line poem
1 alliteration in every line
7 syllables per line
rhyme scheme as follows: aabbccd
I chose both the 1st and 3rd follow the Complex Alliterisen while the 2nd stanza is a Rhyming Alliterisen. I hope you enjoy!
We give our love to the fates
Our lives we give over to destiny
I choose not in this flight of fantasy
Let the wind choose the dates
In which our eyes lock rusted upon some iron gate
Logic looks down upon us frowning jealously
We dance to the hidden strings of time if only temporarily
Who are we if not puppets to stars that choose our mate
I lay in the arms of she who chose me
She who took a hold of her own actions
Defiant of stars and Greek sisters three
Determined to fight destiny’s factions
Stand until the end or with my heart flee
Fate will have to wait for our love’s attraction.
This was from a prompt on dVerse. The prompt: I want you to write a poem about fate. How you interpret it, is up to you. I hope you enjoy!
Singapore Nudels, another story in the Trumped Up View series that takes a look at an alternate reality that closely mirrors our own. This mini fiction is about a pair of presidential followers and their reaction to the news that Singapore is preparing for war.
One is highly anti-Semitic, the other is a transphobe and homophobe. They have a disagreement. Take a look at Singapore Nudels. CW at the beginning. A sfw story.
Find this and more stories SFW and NSFW on my Stories Page.
Who am I?
On what level? When I look in the mirror
What do I see? Who looks back at me?
Can I see with closed eyes? Do I scream?
When I look in the mirror Is it me that I see?
Or just a figment, my imagination
When I see me
Who am I Who am I
On what level When I look in the mirror
What do I see Who looks back at me
Can I see with closed eyes Do I scream
When I look in the mirror Is it me that I see
Or just a figment My imagination
When I see me When I see me
This is from a dVerse prompt. The prompt: Create a sculpture (or bust) of yourself. Use any materials – real or imagined – using the guidelines within Victoria’s 2012 prompt. As part of Victoria’s 2012 prompt there was this option: Create a poem that is multi-dimensional, that is, one that can be read on more than one level.
I chose to use form as a way to create my sculpture and to also add the multi-dimensional and multi-layer aspect in the different ways to read the poem. I hope you enjoy! :^)
I realized after posting it that the shape not be the same depending on what screen you’re looking at the poem so it can change completely depending if you’re looking at a phone or desktop or a smaller or bigger screen. So I made it an image. That is what the original was meant to be. However the bottom is sort of fun changing poem that is rather interesting so I’m keeping it to. I’ll just add something artsy like “the top is how I see the sculpture whereas the bottom represents the art in the audience’s eye and how our vision of ourselves differs from how the world sees our art.” (It’s all just a happy accident. lol)
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In the back of a Garvlacken waste disposal craft was not where Bobby had pictured himself when he had his morning cup of coffee. Being recruited by the Bogē for what was essentially a suicide mission also was not on his morning mood board but at least it made some semblance of sense. Unlike his companion in the back of the disposal craft.
“So how did you end up here?” Bobby asked.
“As a seed, I was shot out the back end of a blue jay when, heedless, she flew over the meadow.”
“Uh huh,” nodded Bobby, “That would explain the *ahem* purple guano.”
His companion smiled, rather woodenly.
“You’re gonna need this,” said Bobby, handing him a helmet.
The back hatch opened and expelled its contents, which included Bobby and his flowery companion, towards the sun.
Bobby checked his watch. “Our ride’s here.”
This was a Prosery prompt from dVerse. The prompt – Write a piece of flash fiction or other prose up of up to or exactly 144 words, including the given line from the poem.
The poetry line: “As a seed, I was shot out the back end of a blue jay when, heedless, she flew over the meadow.” From the poem, “Wild Pansy.”
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A delusion of emptiness
Sitting alone
By myself in a crowd
Listening to each single drop of rain
In a storm
Beating against the window searching to get in
I say hello
Only to have the echoes ghost me
I sit alone
In a crowded café
As the storm
Rages outside
Waiting for you.
After All is Said … What’s left after you’ve been intimate? 30 poems that answer that question. Good, bad, worse & perfect. the responses to what happens after intimacy. Know what happens After All is Said …
Available on KU and Amazon.
Hello?
-Hello operator?
Hello. How may I help?
-Tell me that I matter.
And why would I do that?
-You asked how you could help.
And that would help?
-As far as I can tell.
But do you have a problem? Something we can help you with?
-Yes. It would help if you would just listen.
Then I’m listening. Tell me your problem.
-The problem is myself, the problem that I’m in.
We offer many different options. Anything you wish.
-If wishes were rain, I’d be a storm.
Does that mean you’ve made your choice?
-What choice do I have? What words could I form?
Perhaps I could transfer you to a customer service agent.
-Thank you for your concern. You’ve been so much more than kind.
You’re welcome. And thank you for using our AI agent.
This is from a prompt from dVerse: ‘What I’d like us to do this week is to employ dialogue (even if it’s just a line of it) to good rhetorical effect in our poetry. Another option is to simply write about the act of conversing (as in the last two examples) when it may be obligatory, welcome or intrusive, or conversational tics that charm or set you off. Whichever way you choose, let’s “dialogue it in”!’ Hope you enjoy it!
I’ve decided to write a few micro stories about the US. Specifically about the President and politics. But not specifically about politics and the President. It’s more of a fictionalized version and people’s observation of it. But it kind of relates back to the present world and what’s going on.
I just finished a micro story called Lost It. It’s about two guys in a coffee shop who have lost a lot of money due to the president’s actions. It’s really short. Mostly dialogue. But I hope you’ll take a look. There’s one I did earlier this year called Oh Democracy that’s set in the same world. Different characters and a different time. These stories are SFW, so you’ll be fine reading them on your lunch break. 😁
I think I’m going to do a running micro story “journal” of the events going on. Stay tuned and check back to follow along. They’ll probably be bi-monthly or maybe monthly. Rarely more than that.
Lost It – It’s about two guys in a coffee shop who have lost a lot of money due to the president’s actions. It’s really short. Mostly dialogue. But I hope you’ll take a look.
Oh Democracy – A few security people caught in an early January snowstorm see a crash.
The Author Stew webpage - Stories & Poems