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Throwup a Story

poet Anonymous

A short story I once wrote: part truth, part fiction.

Behind the trees on Ridgecrest road moaned a chug-a-chug shuffle with a whistle's squeal. But a train was abnormal on these rusty rails.

When locomotives were still the boss, a freight train rear-ended a passenger train one night. The collision caused a kerosene lamp to ignite in the rear-end sleeping car causing a fire that killed 7 people. The engineer driving the freight train never had a chance.

Years later, a newer more advanced line with more updated signals and less travel time took over. A hiss of brakes at the road crossing meant the train stopped ahead which couldn't be.

But here's the weird part...when I reached the crossing, I was met with only empty tracks and silence.

Boy, did I get a chill as I turned to leave. I could hear a voice crying out somewhere around me..."Train ahead! train ahead! We're gonna hit!"

The little clap of thunder that shook me, then that faded away, gave me a shiver right to my bones.

I ran home that day but not without a ghostly tale no one in town would ever believe.

poet Anonymous

The memory stains my soul.
He was out in the back garden, wearing a purple wig, an old tatty brown jumper, black dress down to his knees, wearing trainers, and mowing the lawn.
Iíve never laughed so much in my life but at the same time, feel sorry for these weirdos.

poet Anonymous

All that poetry and I ask ďAre gonna bang, though?Ē

poet Anonymous

Donít you just it when the phone leaves out word and let hers?

poet Anonymous

No one here can influence me to be on their side
because Iím on no oneís

poet Anonymous

Iíve seen many of serial killer poets writing porn for autistic women in wheelchairs, and their fan base only being soft women.

Iíve felt the sudden urge to sometimes...give me some time and Iíll never come back to that line

The weather is cold
and I donít know whether to make a tea

Do you know how funny I find most of my posts?

poet Anonymous

Never needed to give anyone that reminder
All powerful she is thinking of a unrealistic zombie apocalypse
and yet screams at a spider
Does nutters rhyme with shut up?

poet Anonymous

At the end of the day, are you happy with what youíre creating in real life? And making happy who you can? Because thatís all that matters...not what hypocrite Ghosts think on the internet

poet Anonymous

I hope Trump doesnít get slated for saying he didnít want to be president all them years ago. Probably will however, by someone who agrees with someone not wanting to be judged for what she did or said many years ago. But theyíre still loveable people hating.

poet Anonymous

Chubby cheeks with no jaw line
and a chin
that if you pull on it
the tongue comes out
like no shame of being overweight

poet Anonymous

I remember writing that line about being 12 and having someone haunt me for the last 15 years
And someone wondered how old I was....what a fly over

poet Anonymous

Having being stood outside the front of Northampton General hospital, someone who had lost his gay vaping cigarette was utterly pissed off. Said he lost on the bus, and then told me he was inside the hospital asking if anyone had seen it. He then showed me the marks on his body, from injecting, and began to explain his time in prison and all that. He said I didnít look or speak stupid, regardless of the questions I was asking. But I felt I was stupid, seeing as Iím no gangster and have never wasted time inside a prison. Quite comical from my appearance and how I dress. But as always, I can talk properly and despise any ďgangsterĒ approaching me and talking the faggot language.
I offered him a cigarette, and was hoping he didnít take that as me wanting to bend him over. Everything was cool. We parted ways, and I walked back to my ward to find tea was being served. Just in time.

Kinkpoet
Kinkpoet
Dangerous Mind
United States
6awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 9th May 2019
Forum Posts: 734

I love and miss my Grandpa T and I love peppermint patties.

When I was a wee lad I would volunteer to help Grandpa T. in the garden on Sunday.
That was my way to avoid the stress of wearing a tie and the tedium of going to mass.
We would dig and weed and plant and harvest, get sweaty and smelly and drink ginger ale,
a treat usually saved for special occasions.

When we were done working  Grandpa would give me a quarter and send me to Vacarelli's bakery down at the corner across the railroad tracks. I would knock on the back door and wait for Mrs. V, a curvaceous woman, to answer. She would inevitably smile, tell me how cute i was pinch my cheeks and gather me in her arms for a big Italian hug, which resulted in being smothered by her motherly bosom scented with yeast and Estee Lauder. Thus my love of cleavage. But thatís another story.

I would run home with a steaming loaf of crusty bread. Grandpa would slice fresh green onions onto the bread and add a layer of yellow mustard. We would eat quietly together getting crumbs on the floor and mustard in the corners of our lips. Those are still the best sandwiches Iíve ever tasted.

Afterword, with a wink, I would suggest that our breath must smell like onions and wouldnít it be offensive to the churchgoers when they got home. Grandpa would smile, walk to the fridge and from his secret stash hidden beneath the ice cube tray extract a peppermint patty. He would carefully remove the blue and white foil wrapper and ceremoniously break it in half, always giving me the larger bit, fold his hands and say ďthank you lord for saving us from another sermonĒ. My favorite prayer.

poet Anonymous

Publishers: donít take out the word very, or youíll be a very massive dickhead.

I went to the shop today, and bought some milk, and tea bags, and some butter, and bread, and I know the and doesnít need to be in the sentence so much, and? And I bought a first class stamp, and I waited for the woman to tell Neil she would have fell into a coma, if he didnít let her tick any cigarettes, and this is to be continued...

poet Anonymous

Itís now 7:00pm
Iím half hour ahead
and people about 3 months behind reading my material

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