Long Prose
#prose
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
22nd Apr 2024 10:56pm
22nd Apr 2024 10:56pm
The Sheridan Women
The women of the Sheridan family always disappeared at some point in their lives, normally before fifty but at least once at seventy-two. (She was a powerful old woman called Ma Sheridan, who ruled her henhouse with an iron claw.) Eleanor became dimly aware of this truth when she was seven years old, and overheard her mother explaining family photographs to her grandfather, already short of memory at sixty-eight. His name was Granddad Chips and it would take another twelve years for the old boy to require hospitalisation, by which time Eleanor would have made her disappearance, the youngest...
#magic
#pagan
#prose #witches
#prose #witches
36 reads
2 Comments
deadwolf
Poem Published
13th Apr 2024 00:09am
13th Apr 2024 00:09am
Random Ramblins #13
3:33AM
Pain hits hard enough to wake me up
~again… damn it… again~
prayin to empty bottles of pills
Ignite the soothing away of pain
please, refill… please
hands shakin & can hardly see
cant make it to phone, legs achin so bad,
been so busy perfecting hatred an resentment lately
that forgot to practice smiling
an bein grateful for what already got
though at the moment
cant seem to remember anything to be grateful for
3:33am
what the fuk is so special about 3:33
`~,,~`
Layin in bed nude for days...
Pain hits hard enough to wake me up
~again… damn it… again~
prayin to empty bottles of pills
Ignite the soothing away of pain
please, refill… please
hands shakin & can hardly see
cant make it to phone, legs achin so bad,
been so busy perfecting hatred an resentment lately
that forgot to practice smiling
an bein grateful for what already got
though at the moment
cant seem to remember anything to be grateful for
3:33am
what the fuk is so special about 3:33
`~,,~`
Layin in bed nude for days...
#gothic
#narrative
#prose
52 reads
1 Comment
Nizana
Lauryn
Lauryn
Poem Published
9th Mar 2024 11:35am
9th Mar 2024 11:35am
An Erotic Scene
The man’s gaze was like the sunrise, an epiphany shimmering in his eyes. Lauryn looked over his chest, a horizon stretching infinitely, luring her into uncharted realms.
There! She caught sight of the object of her longing. She felt the rise and fall of his breath. She watched transfixed as he became fully formed. His cock waited in the still half-light for any kindness the universe might offer.
Her thoughts went back to childhood and the kisses she’d stolen in the prayer garden while skipping service. Hadn’t God blessed her curiosity or at the very least, blessed the...
There! She caught sight of the object of her longing. She felt the rise and fall of his breath. She watched transfixed as he became fully formed. His cock waited in the still half-light for any kindness the universe might offer.
Her thoughts went back to childhood and the kisses she’d stolen in the prayer garden while skipping service. Hadn’t God blessed her curiosity or at the very least, blessed the...
#love
#sex
#erotic #prose
#erotic #prose
320 reads
1 Comment
Connotation
Poem Published
22nd Feb 2024 00:19am
22nd Feb 2024 00:19am
Loss of Inspiration
In the abyss of the deep, only grey matter reflected.
My breath was swept away by a witch's broom.
Secrets of dust were under a rug.
Astonishment took over like a surprise.
Magical, a flying carpet goes over my head, like deception.
The spell of time enthralled me with its flickering eminence of expiration.
My candle was hidden and about to burn out.
Hands on the wall, 6 o'clock, my attention was arrested.
Straight up and down, a power broadcast.
The thief in the night came and ransacked.
My captivated spirit. ...
My breath was swept away by a witch's broom.
Secrets of dust were under a rug.
Astonishment took over like a surprise.
Magical, a flying carpet goes over my head, like deception.
The spell of time enthralled me with its flickering eminence of expiration.
My candle was hidden and about to burn out.
Hands on the wall, 6 o'clock, my attention was arrested.
Straight up and down, a power broadcast.
The thief in the night came and ransacked.
My captivated spirit. ...
#identity
#spiritual
#prose
#art
#metaphor
118 reads
2 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
15th Feb 2024 9:48am
15th Feb 2024 9:48am
The Case of the Criminal Queen
a detective story
It was a busy day for Homer Featherstonhaugh and as he leapt from the red London bus, as much as a man of his girth ever leaps, he had a loud enough song in his heart to make the sparrows quit their warblings. He dove into Bidwell’s and ordered a pot of tea and a cooked breakfast. Folks thought it was eccentric of him to eat in a workman’s cafe surrounded by boiler suits and such, or a sign that he was trying too hard to seem like a man of the people, a sort of reverse parvenu. ‘Silly old Homer’ they’d say, ‘Off on his odysseys again. The fellows must think him a...
It was a busy day for Homer Featherstonhaugh and as he leapt from the red London bus, as much as a man of his girth ever leaps, he had a loud enough song in his heart to make the sparrows quit their warblings. He dove into Bidwell’s and ordered a pot of tea and a cooked breakfast. Folks thought it was eccentric of him to eat in a workman’s cafe surrounded by boiler suits and such, or a sign that he was trying too hard to seem like a man of the people, a sort of reverse parvenu. ‘Silly old Homer’ they’d say, ‘Off on his odysseys again. The fellows must think him a...
#ShortStory
#prose
#mystery #historical
#mystery #historical
87 reads
2 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
18th Dec 2023 4:56pm
18th Dec 2023 4:56pm
My Junk Drawer.
What is in?
Bits of string, bottle tops, vinegar sprinkler,
(just the top not the whole bottle this slips
inside the next bottle if I've forgotten to get
one with a sprinkler, see?) I haven't the
patience to use a cruet set besides I use
my one egg cup for salt. & pepper comes
with a built in holed shaker/sprinkler top.
Sardine keys, corned beef key, ( these are slot
B thingies where tab A on the tin slips in then
you can kinda screw them open and not like keys...
Bits of string, bottle tops, vinegar sprinkler,
(just the top not the whole bottle this slips
inside the next bottle if I've forgotten to get
one with a sprinkler, see?) I haven't the
patience to use a cruet set besides I use
my one egg cup for salt. & pepper comes
with a built in holed shaker/sprinkler top.
Sardine keys, corned beef key, ( these are slot
B thingies where tab A on the tin slips in then
you can kinda screw them open and not like keys...
#prose
#SelfDiscovery
69 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
5th Dec 2023 11:00pm
5th Dec 2023 11:00pm
Dupin in London
fan fiction based on characters created by Edgar Allan Poe
It was in the year 18—— that my friend Dupin and I set sail to London to stay with a sponsor for whom Dupin had rendered a most invaluable service when they were caught in a “cooping” incident, a most disreputable practice whereby a man is plied with drink and then forced to visit polling stations to vote for his assailants’ chosen candidate. The sponsor was a wealthy but naive young dandy from New York, visiting New Orleans just as Dupin had also gone to sample the local culture for a piece to be published in Blackwood’s....
It was in the year 18—— that my friend Dupin and I set sail to London to stay with a sponsor for whom Dupin had rendered a most invaluable service when they were caught in a “cooping” incident, a most disreputable practice whereby a man is plied with drink and then forced to visit polling stations to vote for his assailants’ chosen candidate. The sponsor was a wealthy but naive young dandy from New York, visiting New Orleans just as Dupin had also gone to sample the local culture for a piece to be published in Blackwood’s....
#Fanfiction
#ShortStory
#prose #mystery
#prose #mystery
113 reads
6 Comments
Connotation
Poem Published
29th Sep 2023 11:18pm
29th Sep 2023 11:18pm
Dissassociation
To crawl into the rabbit hole, and wither away with wonder.
Pulling me under and in, internal inquisition.
Like curling up without a blanket.
Breathing isn't the same.
What should be common sense, I now question.
I find myself sucking all the air I allow myself.
Hypothesized, ionic, blue, electrical current.
Hypnotic engagement, layers.
Down, swirling, spinning, perception, imagination, all flowing.
I try to stop the gravity of flooding awe, but the unraveling mystery alternates my senses.
It seems as though synesthesia, the...
Pulling me under and in, internal inquisition.
Like curling up without a blanket.
Breathing isn't the same.
What should be common sense, I now question.
I find myself sucking all the air I allow myself.
Hypothesized, ionic, blue, electrical current.
Hypnotic engagement, layers.
Down, swirling, spinning, perception, imagination, all flowing.
I try to stop the gravity of flooding awe, but the unraveling mystery alternates my senses.
It seems as though synesthesia, the...
#prose
#myself
#SelfReflection
#mystery
#FeelingLost
289 reads
7 Comments
Connotation
Poem Published
20th Sep 2023 5:32am
20th Sep 2023 5:32am
The Fallen Fallacy of Politics
They're dancing around the fire for rain. For a moment, bright bursts of flames, fractalizing into the sky. Awe and wonder. Brief, but captivating, an exit of light. A celebration of the pointing finger. Number one. To burn the seasoned growth of life. The crops, cracked, and dry. As night leaves ashes, an aching ground. Twisted, warped aesthetics are a gross enamor. Revelry, taking for granted the precious gift and balance of what is given.
A poison warning - skull and bones. Do not imbibe the potion of the night. Peering in the crystal ball, everyone sees lightning....
A poison warning - skull and bones. Do not imbibe the potion of the night. Peering in the crystal ball, everyone sees lightning....
#spiritual
#prose
#humankind
#metaphor
#morality
119 reads
0 Comments
tell_me_wy
Poem Published
8th Sep 2023 4:13am
8th Sep 2023 4:13am
To be continued
#prose
#lover
#sensual
154 reads
2 Comments
Kinkpoet
Poem Published
31st Aug 2023 5:30am
31st Aug 2023 5:30am
Addictive Explanations
Hello.
My name is B and I am an addict.
When I was a boy reading was punishment. Worse than getting called in before dark, worse than baths, worse even than bedtime prayers. I despised it, hated it.
Until one day while in detention a wise librarian placed a book on my desk, then under her breath, said, “I think you might like this”, and walked away.
Well who the heck is she? There’s no way! No way am I going to read a book. Especially a library book with small print and no pictures!
I did my best to ignore it, but the cover intrigued me...
My name is B and I am an addict.
When I was a boy reading was punishment. Worse than getting called in before dark, worse than baths, worse even than bedtime prayers. I despised it, hated it.
Until one day while in detention a wise librarian placed a book on my desk, then under her breath, said, “I think you might like this”, and walked away.
Well who the heck is she? There’s no way! No way am I going to read a book. Especially a library book with small print and no pictures!
I did my best to ignore it, but the cover intrigued me...
#prose
#confessional
#SelfDiscovery
85 reads
2 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
23rd Aug 2023 10:38pm
23rd Aug 2023 10:38pm
Nag
a horror short
To a low-ceilinged building just outside the settlement, a couple were transported by the elders. ‘It won’t do a thing!’ the man insisted, ‘I’ll still want my freedom from her!’
‘And I’ll be glad to give it him!’ the woman countered. They both wore simple country dress and were shackled by the wrists. They headed a procession that included a small team of jailers, the village priest, a few monks, and assorted onlookers. Their children hadn’t deigned to bear witness.
They were locked in the rough-hewn shed, which had but one single bed, one...
To a low-ceilinged building just outside the settlement, a couple were transported by the elders. ‘It won’t do a thing!’ the man insisted, ‘I’ll still want my freedom from her!’
‘And I’ll be glad to give it him!’ the woman countered. They both wore simple country dress and were shackled by the wrists. They headed a procession that included a small team of jailers, the village priest, a few monks, and assorted onlookers. Their children hadn’t deigned to bear witness.
They were locked in the rough-hewn shed, which had but one single bed, one...
#ShortStory
#prose
#historical #horror
#historical #horror
118 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Long Prose
