The Author Stew webpage – Stories & Poems
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
Covered in shame
The night is a flame
Lighting up my darkest fears.
Covered in dust
Do what I must
To walk from moonlight
To Dawn.
A Taste of Stew Erotic Stories Collection
A collection of short erotic stories including all 3 of the pandemic stories; previously released separately. 7 stories in all!
You’ll find a wide variety of fun well written stories to enjoy high spice content.
Read this rengay that David and I wrote. An interesting poet duet.
1)
three little goldfish
each chasing its own current —
glass holds their chaos
2)
Nibble on crumbs, fool’s flotsam
Chase rainbows instead, for gold
3)
morning light —
brightness flickering
on curved walls
4)
Disco strobe light shines
Reflections of the morning
Sip tea by the pond
5)
all that sky on the surface
mere inches in depth
6)
Mirror reflections
Swirling gold flecks in my eyes
Confused lightning flash
1,3 & 5 written by: DB 2,4,6 written by: me
Have you taken a look at my books? https://theauthorstew.ca/books/ Find collections of my poetry, a short story or a collection of short stories. Find the best of my writing for sale at Amazon or your favorite online bookseller.
The evening’s moon shone upon the newly fallen snow
My love lay beneath it
Fresh as the breath of a new dawn, pure white in color
No trace of the stain of my tears
I fear to tread upon it, to mar such perfect a blanket
Yet the words echo
The reflection of the moon’s light pales and dims in memory
They shoot the white girl first.
I watched in horror from too far away in safety
Yet the echo reached my ears
Red drops splatter in pretty patterns across the wall
Artist see art even in horror
I could not run, towards or away. My feet buried in sand
How I got away I don’t know
Pundits in other lands called it inevitable, just another lesson
History has failed us, but no matter.
The present the caretaker of our past sins, expresser of lamentations
Yet my tears lay dry on my cheek
The cemetery lay on flat land, headstones lined up like teeth
A crooked smile of death
The chill of winter lays cold and silent, not even the wind dares to disturb
The tales the dead whisper
I came not to say goodbye but instead to say see you soon
I was looking for a quiet place to die.
This is for a dVerse prompt: “I am sharing below some short opening sentences for you to use as the closing line of your poem.”
There were several opening lines listed. I happened to use three of them, one each for the last line of each stanza of my poem as well as the closing line. “They shoot the white girl first.” Paradise by Toni Morrison, “History has failed us, but no matter.” Pachinko by Min Jin Lee and “I was looking for a quiet place to die.” Paul Auster, The Brooklyn Follies. I hope you enjoy! 😊
I’ve been hungry.
Not just a mere inconvenience
Hunger as a presence
A dinner companion as you salivate over a slice of bread
So it is not with grace that I bless this food
But in knowing it’s grace
That I have been fed.
This was for a dVerse prompt: Pen us a poem of precisely 44 words (not counting the title), including some form of the word hunger.
Thankfully I have not been hungry much but I have known hunger yet nothing is worse than not being able to feed your kids. So it is with grace that when going through hard times that I know that I am not hungry.
Ignite the fire in my heart
Start the flame
Burn in my eyes
I want to see you as fire
Bonfire of desire
I stand before the flames
Watching
As you turn my indifference into ash
Ignite my passion
Light my flame
Watch as I burn
Into cinders
Yours to claim
Audio book listener? Well check out Just One Kiss written by me, narrated by Ruan Willow.
Could one kiss get you in bed? You think so? Well, Karen thinks Shawn is full of it when he comes over to her table and says he can get her in bed with just a kiss. But …
A short erotic read of what happens to a jaded Karen after Just One Kiss. It’s what you think but not what you think. Also one of the stories inside Author Stew Erotic stories collection.
Look around you, it lays there among the clutter and mess,
The tidy corners and cleaned spills.
There, where dirty socks used to lay or lay still,
There, where footsteps left their imprints from the rain.
Is this not love?
As I sit alone in the warmth of the bed where your body did lay
As I sit across from your smiling face breaking fast at the break of day
As I kneel in the corner, your arms around my shoulder letting me cry
As I kneel beside our children gazing in wonder pointing to the sky
Is this not love?
In passion, fiery and hot, burning through doubts and hesitations
Fierce in its desire, consuming, explosive, destructive in its intensity
Destroying anything that seeks to separate us one from the other
Flaring hot as it devours; you stand in the embers of discarded dross, pure gold.
Is this not love?
How is this not love when I am here with you?
How is this not love when my heart beats with yours?
How is this not love when the years spent together were the best of my life?
How is this not love when I still love you?
If this isn’t love
I never knew what love was
And I’ll never know what love is
This is for a dVerse prompt: For today’s Poetics, I want you to write a poem about love as something quietly sacred — not just roses and hearts, but the small, unseen ways someone stays. I hope you enjoy.
“Hello Afrael.”
“Hello Sir Dragon, Yeon.”
“Why so formal Afrael? Your lips forget what they have kissed,” said Yeon, smiling broadly.
“You were not in that form,” said Afrael. His cheeks took a slightly redder hue but his eyes remained fixed.
“Would you prefer this?” asked Yeon, shapeshifting into a tall middle aged half elf female. Her long blonde hair flowing down her back.
“Or perhaps this one,” he said, shapeshifting into the shape of a full elf, well muscled and young.
“Do not wear that form,” said Afrael, his voice tight. “Do me the courtesy of honoring my brother’s death.”
“Is the outward form so significant that it shrouds that which lays beneath?”
“Some things are best left buried. And yes.”
“Have you come to ask my aid with your war?”
“No. Something much less seemly. I’ve got a business proposition for you.”
This was for a dVerse prompt: Write a piece of prose, up to or exactly 144 words, including the given line: “Lips forget what they have kissed.”
I decided to take it a different direction and use it in a fantasy setting with a shape shifting dragon and a former elf lover. I hope you enjoy!
I am weak for merely, am just a man
Your body I still crave though you have gone
No longer mine to set my gaze upon
Over as quickly as it had began
You rule my thoughts as only lonely can
I’m small in the sight of my mirror on
The wall shining light of an early dawn
Mirror reflecting horrors that I plan
I am meant to be strong in your absence
Instead I lay in a puddle of tears
To be found wanting no sense of balance
Alone with my thoughts, wants, wishes and fears
I’m spinning along a tilted axis
Was I to know the cost of our affairs
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.
If I could never touch you again, I’d lose my will. I could not go, on or through. I’d crumble where I stood. Who could stand such cruelty? Who would do such a thing? How could I stand to look at you, knowing my hands could not feel your body again?
I’d remember the feel of your skin, so soft, beneath my finger tips. The feeling as my hand ran down your arm, before taking your hand in mine. Fingers entwined. Heat radiating between our palms. Give that up? Have it taken away? I could not go on.
I long to touch you even now. I want to feel the weight of you in my arms. Heavy laden am I, with desire, with need. For the pull of gravity, the attraction of one body to another, holding each other. Holding each other together. For without you, without the touch of you; I’d shatter.
So though we must be apart, separated by distances too far for my arms to reach. Despite the fact that I won’t feel your breath warm against my neck as we sleep. My fingers do not run along your cheek, raising your eyes to mine, and our lips do not at this moment meet. Despite all these things and more, I do not despair. For I know I will touch you again; because if I could not touch you. I would come undone.
This is for a dVerse prompt: I’d like us to focus on one of the five senses (sight, taste, smell, touch, or hearing) and write a poem exploring what your life experience might be without that sense.
I hope you enjoy! 😊
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Petals closed in sleep
Winter winds over the ground
Flowers hibernate
Waiting for spring sun
To awaken sleeping eyes
Climb up through the ground
Say hello to warmth
Say hello to new sunshine
Say goodbye winter
Flower waiting sleeps
To awaken in the spring
This is from a dVerse prompt: So today, I’d like you to pen us a poem that includes some form of the word FLOWER. Pen us a poem of precisely 44 words (not counting the title), including some form of the word flower. I hope you enjoy! 😊
The Author Stew webpage - Stories & Poems