The Author Stew webpage – Stories & Poems
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
Two four
Six Eight Let’s go!
Celebrate! Party right!
Gonna have fun all the night!
Weekend!
Goodnight
Time for sleeping
Pull down the sheets slip in
Resting now no longer awake
Weekend
This was for a dVerse poetry prompt: to create a Cinquain poem. “It is a short poem based on syllable count and is a five-line poem with a syllable count of 2-4-6-8-2, but there are plenty of variations.” Hope you enjoy!
Setbacks? What are these?
Just steps towards the future unseen
Good or bad?
Not for me to judge
I just continue to step on the stone in front of me
Life hands you lemons
I thank her and move on
No time to make lemonade or meringue a pie
I’ll put them in my pocket perhaps to trade
For a cup of sugar and water on a hot day
Fallen and can’t get up
I’ll crawl to my destination
Or perhaps it’s time for a nap
Just because I’ve fallen
Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy where I’m at
Life has you down?
Then time to rise up!
I’ll go under thank you
But good luck
Poor me,
Unfortunately so
But richer am I than the other fellow.
This is for a dVerse prompt: I would love to know how you deal with setbacks in life. Share with us in the form of a poem, of course, are you the kind to bounce back, do you curse and rant when things go wrong or do you wallow in self pity. As always you are free to interpret the prompt in any which way. I hope you enjoy!
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Money out my hand
Where it goes I don’t answer
Into your pocket
“You should just donate money to the campaign. You’d get this cleared up in a jiffy.”
“Isn’t that bribery? That’s illegal. Isn’t it?” asked Mr. Green.
“Yes. Absolutely. And I’m saying that as your lawyer. Bribery is illegal,” said Mr. Johnson, “Political donations are not. And I’m not saying that not as your lawyer.”
“Donations as part of a bribe?” asked Mr. Green his arms crossed.
“Who’s doing that? No, nobody here is doing that. Or any suggestion of that sort. We are merely saying that if you were to make known that hefty donations were made to such candidates in support of their ongoing good work; they may look upon this case more favorably, well actually unfavorably, therefore more likely to dismiss.”
“So if I give money to some politician then he’ll talk to the judge and tell him to dismiss the case?”
READ THE REST here: https://theauthorstew.ca/blog/money-where-their-mouth-is/
This is part of the Trumped Up Views stories. Trumped Up Views – a series of micro-stories set in a parallel universe with events eerily similar to our own that mirror the politics of the time.
Sound hits my ear hard
Inside my brain it burrows
Noise most unpleasant
NOTHING IS WITHOUT
ONLY THE DAY BEGINS
INSIDE MY HEAD
SHE SCREAMS AGAIN
ETERNAL EVENING DISTURBS MY SLUMBER
Nobody knew her name
I saw her On the street corner alone
An Invitation extended
One She should have declined
Everyone knows you don’t talk to strangers
NEVER AGAIN WILL SHE BOTHER
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GRASS
INSIDE ALL OF US
SOMEONE OR SOMETHING IS ALWAYS SCREAMING
ETERNAL TORMENTS
She didn’t make the News
Girls like her never dO
She had some fIght
Screams and scratches, tears and blood
Doesn’t matter in the End.
This is from a dVerse prompt: Write a poem about noise. “Fill your poem with noise to paint us a picture of an event. Use noise metaphorically to express turmoil or unease, whether internal or external. You can play with onomatopoeia in your poem if you’d like but it is not required.”
I took a kind of horror play on it with a nod to Poe. The noise obviously being the screams but they’re in his head, the echoes of the screams he created. And the letters of noise scattered through the poem giving it a noisy look and aesthetic as well. Hope you enjoyed.
You have gone before me
I tried to keep up
Following like a lost pup
To be or not to be
Still couldn’t see
The question never came up
You left me with the bill, like Jesus’ last sup
One last wood ride from a branch tree
I’m wearing all black
Tears fall like rain
All gathered round to say goodbye
There’s no coming back
No losing this pain
No matter how hard I try
Why can’t I come?
Available on KU and Amazon.
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 intamacy. Know what happens After All is Said …
Where are the days before pumpkin spice?
Where are those hot summer days?
When we ran in sprinklers, on lawns of green
We had no care of what our thighs looked like
Or if the neighbors might see
Where are the endless afternoons?
Reading a book or three
Bike rides down safe summer lanes
Creating mud pies, grass buffets, all natural with sugar on top
Where did the days before pumpkin spice go?
Where is grandma?
Making her pies
Where is grandpa?
Fixing our bikes
Where is mommy?
Kissing scraped knee
Where is daddy?
At the BBQ cooking meat
Where did those days go? Before we knew the spice of Autumn
Kisses were innocent, if awkward
Holding hands meant nothing and everything
You were mine, at least for this week
Where are those days before pumpkin spice?
This is a dVerse prompt: title your poem with the question – where are the/they… , use the questioning within your poem, even with repetition, DO NOT ANSWER it though – the questioning is rhetorical, employ concepts of mortality, the transience of life, a sense of nostalgia.
I actually created 2 other poems before this one having not paid attention to one of the prompts so this prompt created 3 poems instead of one. lol There is an intentional duality (or more depending on how deep you want to read into it :^) ) in the poem of seasons and aging. I hope you enjoy!
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Cradled in my arms
Cradled in my hands
A warm wetness
Desired desire
Let me drink from your pleasured springs
Wells of yearning ambrosia, flowing rivers of need
Passion fueled thirst
Lust born longing
Let me touch you
Run my hands along the lanes of your body
Valleys and hills of nakedness
Lead to a vast wonderland
Let me touch you
With my lips, whispering words
Breaths of encouragement and delight
Sounds of longing slide over my tongue
Cradled in my arms
Drops of your essence still on my lips
My hands hold you close
Words of adoration in your ear
Burning passion, hot action, Fornication’s Fire. 30 erotic poems about the fires of love making, sex … fornicating. Modern poems take you on a journey that is sensual, sexual and burning. Read Fornication’s Fire on Amazon and KU
“The future gathers in vine, bush, and tree: Persimmon, walnut, loquat, fig, and grape,” said Professor Manwani, each fruit corresponding to a different terminal. He walked by checking the output on each screen.
“You really think quantum computing is the future huh Professor?” asked Pete.
“Not just quantum computing, quantum engineering, quantum biology. The world is going quantum my boy! You just watch,” said the Professor. He stopped by the terminal labelled fig and typed on the keyboard.
“Call me sceptical. I mean I see the promise “theoretically” of what you’re proposing. I just don’t see how it’s even possible, much less useful.”
“Useful? Oh, there is no usefulness about it,” said Professor Manwani, “At least not yet. You need materials before you can build. And flipping this switch, we create the atoms to build the materials.”
He flipped the switch. Nothing/Everything happened.
This is from a dVerse 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 future gathers in vine, bush, and tree: Persimmon, walnut, loquat, fig, and grape.” From the poem “Time and the Garden” by Yvor Winters. I hope you enjoy.
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Power
The ability to do work
Work
An activity involving effort to achieve a purpose or result
Purpose
The reason something exist or is done
Power
The ability to do an activity for the reason you exist
I give to you my power
Some say they would die for you
They would rather not live
Others would live for you
Yet do nothing with the life they have with you
I give you my power
My ability to do
To live or die
The reason I exist
Is you
My power
This is for a dVerse prompt: Your challenge today is to use one or more of the definitions of power that have been given and write a poem in any format or length you choose. I hope you enjoy.
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The night needs kisses
As night’s often do
My lips pressed against yours, me holding you
The darkness hides much, the desire that this is
The sky is black yet the stars are wishes
My heart is full of desire yearning for a love true
Our lips feed the night, as the morning brings the dew
For I am hers, and she is his
Kisses in the night
Your lips on mine
Things done wrong feel so right
No worries, everything is fine
With your kisses we just might
Let our heart and desires take flight
The night needs moans
To fill the silence of the dark
My lips on you, my teeth leave a mark
Mark what is mine
You cry out to the night
I echo with cries of my own
Circle the moon where wings have flown
We live in the night
In need of kisses
Seduced by Seduction
A collection of 30 poems about seduction, seducing and being seduced. Poems that are hot, introspective, a play on words, thoughtful. Find it all in Seduced by Seduction.
Available on Amazon & Kindle Unlimited, e-book & paperback. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08WK51RR6
The Author Stew webpage - Stories & Poems