Prose by Top Critiquers
#prose
DamianDeadLove
Poem Published
12th Jan 2025 8:30am
12th Jan 2025 8:30am
Routine
I’m not overly superstitious about things usually. I might have one or two, but that’s a different story, folks. What I am though, is very routine oriented. I don’t freak out if I need to call an audible, but there is a rhythm to everything I do.
Truly though my only superstition is this, I won’t watch my favorite sports teams play in big games, especially championship or tournament games. Because, they lose every time I have watched a game. No joke. They’ve won a few, when I haven’t. But this superstition theory has been battle tested.
“Very superstitious,...
Truly though my only superstition is this, I won’t watch my favorite sports teams play in big games, especially championship or tournament games. Because, they lose every time I have watched a game. No joke. They’ve won a few, when I haven’t. But this superstition theory has been battle tested.
“Very superstitious,...
#prose
110 reads
15 Comments
fianaturie8
Fia Naturie
Fia Naturie
Poem Published
22nd Dec 2024 2:37pm
22nd Dec 2024 2:37pm
Temperance (Twin Sword of Excalibur)
Everyone knows the story of Excalibur, King Arthur's sword, yet they have forgotten to mention that the creation of Excalibur was not a singular event. A second sword was created—its twin sword, Temperance.
Just as Excalibur was spelled to stay in the stone, it could not be grasped unless the chosen one, the descendant of royal blood, came and retrieved it.
Temperance was spelled and floated high above in the sky.
It was spelled by the Lady of the Lake, the same lady who put a spell on Excalibur. No one knew why she had done this. One day, the sword...
Just as Excalibur was spelled to stay in the stone, it could not be grasped unless the chosen one, the descendant of royal blood, came and retrieved it.
Temperance was spelled and floated high above in the sky.
It was spelled by the Lady of the Lake, the same lady who put a spell on Excalibur. No one knew why she had done this. One day, the sword...
#prose
132 reads
10 Comments
crimsin
Unveiling
Unveiling
Poem Published
16th Sep 2021 3:56pm
16th Sep 2021 3:56pm
spires of hell series
the deserted one chimes six o'clock
in her keening hours...break
the dawn sees her no more
torn asunder and cast into utter chaos
hungry from the cold she withers
her wisdom calculates her odds
the severity of her situation sits on her broken ribs
thrown into the black she screams
not in terror but defiance
the void listens to her screams charmed
a new darkling for the horde
adversaries rise to greet her
the damned love a newling
the host circles around her
surreal figures of doom ...
in her keening hours...break
the dawn sees her no more
torn asunder and cast into utter chaos
hungry from the cold she withers
her wisdom calculates her odds
the severity of her situation sits on her broken ribs
thrown into the black she screams
not in terror but defiance
the void listens to her screams charmed
a new darkling for the horde
adversaries rise to greet her
the damned love a newling
the host circles around her
surreal figures of doom ...
#dark
#gothic
#prose
645 reads
6 Comments
Solomon_Song
Poem Published
8th Dec 2022 2:57pm
8th Dec 2022 2:57pm
YOU ARE BABBLING (SHORT STORY SETTING)
#sex
#erotic
#fiction
#prose
#seductive
255 reads
3 Comments
MySmile
Besma
Besma
Poem Published
24th Nov 2024 9:52am
24th Nov 2024 9:52am
Trodden Paths Not In Vain
"Paint in silence”
“The Weight of Temp”
Colour your canvas and spill your Art
shake and awaken many a heart
Untether your soul
from your whole
escape mundane and time
and let your brush rhyme
Have Man radiate
pour oil colours on his trait
Carve his seized dreams
and his insight of flowing streams
Let me read his cry of birth
and see the drops of tears on earth
A valiant core, the shell is worn
could not be broken, though torn
You display a challenging stand
behind a back forced to bend ...
“The Weight of Temp”
Colour your canvas and spill your Art
shake and awaken many a heart
Untether your soul
from your whole
escape mundane and time
and let your brush rhyme
Have Man radiate
pour oil colours on his trait
Carve his seized dreams
and his insight of flowing streams
Let me read his cry of birth
and see the drops of tears on earth
A valiant core, the shell is worn
could not be broken, though torn
You display a challenging stand
behind a back forced to bend ...
#art
#beauty
#FreeVerse
#humankind
#prose
76 reads
6 Comments
adagio
Poem Published
22nd Dec 2021 5:25pm
22nd Dec 2021 5:25pm
Whimsy
It was a wistful longing for the night winds that had me pawing dark sensuality. As my breath condensate in a brume of sooted smoke from the nearby chimneys. And I grinning a grin of a harlequin. As I lit the gaslights, a choir in the distance harken a carol. "O come all ye faithful..."
Beneath my button britches, my manhood twitched, with Old Nick's itch. And with a glint in my monocle, I sauntered to her portal. In hopes to grovel in her skirts.
Forgoing my roguish behavior in spite of myself. While under the thumb of my gin and sweet bouquet of gorse from the meadows....
Beneath my button britches, my manhood twitched, with Old Nick's itch. And with a glint in my monocle, I sauntered to her portal. In hopes to grovel in her skirts.
Forgoing my roguish behavior in spite of myself. While under the thumb of my gin and sweet bouquet of gorse from the meadows....
#ShortStory
#prose
700 reads
0 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
25th Sep 2024 11:51pm
25th Sep 2024 11:51pm
journey completed
fed up with people calling whatever
happens to them a journey
and agree with the bloke in the pub
who says what the f*ck even for
me it’s far too early to get drunk and ordinarily
I prefer to remain seated
happens to them a journey
and agree with the bloke in the pub
who says what the f*ck even for
me it’s far too early to get drunk and ordinarily
I prefer to remain seated
#prose
74 reads
2 Comments
wallyroo92
Poem Published
28th Oct 2019 7:57pm
28th Oct 2019 7:57pm
Brinkton Fartentuaht
#narrative
#ShortStory
#prose
553 reads
0 Comments
runningturtle87
Poem Published
19th Sep 2012 12:05pm
19th Sep 2012 12:05pm
Girls Get It
Our society has been so hell bent on selling us what we need in order to be complete, that we hardly have any real understanding of what it means to be human apart from our consumer culture. It seems that more and more and seamlessly so we are bombarded with images and made to feel that the world is being tailored to meet our every whim, even if the vast majority of them are the consequence of subliminal messages that are beamed solid at us from resources that have the agenda of creating within us the desire and need to be fulfilled by what they sell.
It is no real secret that...
It is no real secret that...
#women
#beauty
#food
#PopCulture
#prose
1023 reads
11 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
20th Feb 2021 4:40am
20th Feb 2021 4:40am
Midwinter Blues
Midwinter Blues
My muse is quiet.
Midwinter blues.
Look forward for my wild prose
to thaw.
But I am listening to
my friend Judih’s radio program.
Boozy chanteuse
Optimism blossoms.
Biden president and a rover on Mars.
My muse is quiet.
Midwinter blues.
Look forward for my wild prose
to thaw.
But I am listening to
my friend Judih’s radio program.
Boozy chanteuse
Optimism blossoms.
Biden president and a rover on Mars.
#winter
#ShortStory
#prose #MyInspiration
#prose #MyInspiration
474 reads
4 Comments
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
136 reads
2 Comments
Connotation
Poem Published
29th Dec 2024 4:35am
29th Dec 2024 4:35am
Cavernous Echoes
Cavernous echoes
Inside the chamber
Where dust gathers
Course infinity
Ethereal breath amaze
Comfort succumbs
Filthy hands
Dare to handle
Touch a soul
Death inside
Suffocated prison
Paranoia hinted walls
At the prospect
Closing in
An escape alone
Devoid of purpose
Hidden in truth
Moments recall
Universal secrets
Into the abyss
Graven gaze
Eyes deeply
Fixated hypnosis
Mood transforms
Lust tempts
Deity life transpose
Nothing...
Inside the chamber
Where dust gathers
Course infinity
Ethereal breath amaze
Comfort succumbs
Filthy hands
Dare to handle
Touch a soul
Death inside
Suffocated prison
Paranoia hinted walls
At the prospect
Closing in
An escape alone
Devoid of purpose
Hidden in truth
Moments recall
Universal secrets
Into the abyss
Graven gaze
Eyes deeply
Fixated hypnosis
Mood transforms
Lust tempts
Deity life transpose
Nothing...
#girlfriend
#love
#marriage
#metaphor
#prose
127 reads
6 Comments
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