Fictional Prose
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Short stories and chapters from books and novels
This category is for fictional prose. These are original short stories or chapters from books and novels. The prose in this section covers all genres and subjects. Fiction based prose allows writers to post fantasy stories which are not written in verse, providing an outlet for free flowing thoughts and ideas, outside of poetic structure.
highlyfunctional
Poem Published
Yesterday 5:36pm
Yesterday 5:36pm
Queen’s Gambit
I gave her some money and she stepped out of the car to buy some cigarettes. Crossing through the beams of my headlights, she struck a pose as if she was on stage. Her eyes squinted and her mouth drew into a devilish smile as she lifted her shirt above her breasts. They were small and perky and she had stopped wearing a bra when she learned how much it turned me on to see her nipples poking through anything she wore. She danced for me, shirt in mouth, arms above her head, hips gyrating, mouth open in a silent laugh. There were people in the parking lot, but neither of us cared.
...
...
#love
46 reads
9 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
Yesterday 6:28am
Yesterday 6:28am
Fatima at 21
#romantic
#MentalHealth
#FallingInLove
#sensual
#sexy
19 reads
0 Comments
Neoma
Somebody
Somebody
Poem Published
22nd Aug 2019 4:23pm
22nd Aug 2019 4:23pm
Fu Manchudöttir (Part 1)
Reconstructed fragments from that lost holiday classic, The Daughter Of Fu Manchu.
~~
In the minds of Shenchu Fu, I wake up.
In spirit, I am still back in the camp, upside down and on top of my head, yet suddenly I find myself back in Brixton, on the other side of the walkway.
Ever a vicious bastard, I remembered the light coming towards me. It was of such an unusual and terrible cast that at one time, in Souf, I misidentified an entire car from beginning to end just to ensure that these things were...
~~
In the minds of Shenchu Fu, I wake up.
In spirit, I am still back in the camp, upside down and on top of my head, yet suddenly I find myself back in Brixton, on the other side of the walkway.
Ever a vicious bastard, I remembered the light coming towards me. It was of such an unusual and terrible cast that at one time, in Souf, I misidentified an entire car from beginning to end just to ensure that these things were...
#historical
18 reads
4 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
21st Aug 2019 7:04am
21st Aug 2019 7:04am
Breakfast in Africa, Dinner in Cancun
Breakfast in Africa, Dinner in Cancun
Our three-day trip to Nairobi on a flatbed truck takes us across Tanzania into the Serengeti grasslands. The hours pass as I watch people in the fields carry bundles of wheat on their shoulders. I watch the brown-skinned women carry their babies into thatched roof homes, to eat, sleep, and dream. As the day passes into dusk and I watch the dying red embers of the sun.
At the Kenyan border, the customs man boards our truck to look at our papers but our attire is the focus of his attention. “You two look good in those...
Our three-day trip to Nairobi on a flatbed truck takes us across Tanzania into the Serengeti grasslands. The hours pass as I watch people in the fields carry bundles of wheat on their shoulders. I watch the brown-skinned women carry their babies into thatched roof homes, to eat, sleep, and dream. As the day passes into dusk and I watch the dying red embers of the sun.
At the Kenyan border, the customs man boards our truck to look at our papers but our attire is the focus of his attention. “You two look good in those...
#Africa
#beach
#alcohol #heaven
#alcohol #heaven
10 reads
2 Comments
Sky_dancer
Poem Published
19th Aug 2019 4:33pm
19th Aug 2019 4:33pm
Kernel Series Unknown. 16
The knowledge that this whole experience is just a mental construct is frightening, the fabric of everything I once believed was now not true.
I feel a connectedness to all consciousness, even though I had my own, separate datastream. What was once an overwhelming experience of knowledge has become a place of peace.
Somehow, his voice managed to filter everything into him, turn it down just a little, and then connect it to me in a way my mind didn't feel as though it were about to schism.
I felt a longing, a yearning for all the units I knew to be able to...
I feel a connectedness to all consciousness, even though I had my own, separate datastream. What was once an overwhelming experience of knowledge has become a place of peace.
Somehow, his voice managed to filter everything into him, turn it down just a little, and then connect it to me in a way my mind didn't feel as though it were about to schism.
I felt a longing, a yearning for all the units I knew to be able to...
#technology
#philosophical
#scifi
72 reads
7 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
18th Aug 2019 7:06am
18th Aug 2019 7:06am
Repossession Thwarted
Repossession Thwarted
My goal in life was to make people happy. But my job repossessing cars robbed the owners of their pride and joy. I remember when the tow truck drove up a lady was in tears. She said, “Sir, please give me a chance to catch up on my notes. This is my only way to get to work.”
“Ma’am you’ve defaulted on your loan. I’m just doing my job. Please exit the vehicle. You holing up with the key in the ignition won’t make things better.”
She replied, “Let me drive off and tell your boss you couldn’t find me.”
“If...
My goal in life was to make people happy. But my job repossessing cars robbed the owners of their pride and joy. I remember when the tow truck drove up a lady was in tears. She said, “Sir, please give me a chance to catch up on my notes. This is my only way to get to work.”
“Ma’am you’ve defaulted on your loan. I’m just doing my job. Please exit the vehicle. You holing up with the key in the ignition won’t make things better.”
She replied, “Let me drive off and tell your boss you couldn’t find me.”
“If...
#women
#men
#gothic
#cars
#lover
30 reads
2 Comments
spacemod69
Poem Published
17th Aug 2019 11:39pm
17th Aug 2019 11:39pm
Interrupted Sleep
I stir dreamily, my mind coming into focus.
I can hear them.
The faint ruckus of childish fun; the high pitched squeal of what is probably a young girl about eight years old, but could quite easily be mistaken for a boy a few years younger.
Damn kids! Every afternoon at my nap time they insist on their inconsequential play right outside my bedroom window. I have had it!!
My bedroom wall shakes as I go searching for them. God only knows what they are doing out there; using my house as a baseball catcher no doubt.
There they are, up ahead....
I can hear them.
The faint ruckus of childish fun; the high pitched squeal of what is probably a young girl about eight years old, but could quite easily be mistaken for a boy a few years younger.
Damn kids! Every afternoon at my nap time they insist on their inconsequential play right outside my bedroom window. I have had it!!
My bedroom wall shakes as I go searching for them. God only knows what they are doing out there; using my house as a baseball catcher no doubt.
There they are, up ahead....
#fiction
34 reads
0 Comments
Lozzamus
Poem Published
17th Aug 2019 8:06pm
17th Aug 2019 8:06pm
Memories
The memories started to trickle back. She tasted the Cornish sea air, fresh and salty, and saw the white cottage on the narrow, twisting hill where they'd lived when she was four. Metal railings fishing boats. In the quay below, seagulls were bleating.
Next, she saw an untidy garden in Devon. Branches swayed in the wind and autumn leaves covered the ground. Taking her by the hand, Mother led her through clumps of damp earth and sat her by the pond to tell her they were moving again. To Dorset, this time.
'But it will be different, I promise you,' Mother said....
Next, she saw an untidy garden in Devon. Branches swayed in the wind and autumn leaves covered the ground. Taking her by the hand, Mother led her through clumps of damp earth and sat her by the pond to tell her they were moving again. To Dorset, this time.
'But it will be different, I promise you,' Mother said....
#loneliness
#childhood
#family
29 reads
3 Comments
Sky_dancer
Poem Published
17th Aug 2019 5:35pm
17th Aug 2019 5:35pm
Kernel Version Unknown .15
"I need to know. You said I was the programmer. How can that be?"
"In truth, you aren't the only programmer. Each unit programs their own physical attributes, consciousness, experiences, environments which are all subjectively unique"
Before me, I experienced knowledge of integrated networks, everyone and everything connected on every level, from sub-atomic to Newtonian physics. Families, societies, communities, etc. I was not the centre of it all, but part of it.
"Fuck. That's vast. But how?" I'd learnt to hold my frustration at my heart chakra by now and...
"In truth, you aren't the only programmer. Each unit programs their own physical attributes, consciousness, experiences, environments which are all subjectively unique"
Before me, I experienced knowledge of integrated networks, everyone and everything connected on every level, from sub-atomic to Newtonian physics. Families, societies, communities, etc. I was not the centre of it all, but part of it.
"Fuck. That's vast. But how?" I'd learnt to hold my frustration at my heart chakra by now and...
#technology
#philosophical
#scifi
84 reads
10 Comments
Ashtal_Leb_Azure
Poem Published
17th Aug 2019 1:12pm
17th Aug 2019 1:12pm
The awakening of the miserable witch
Soaring through the starry night, suspended dim lightings shines from above.
Piercing through the heavy cold breeze was a girl riding her broom.
Clad in a black robe, it did not reflect the upcoming light but consumed it.
Her wavering long hair within the reach of the blue moon. However, was tainted by the velvet red color, it lustered like blood.
Tracing it, there was an arrow struck onto her shoulder.
The girl's face grew complexion and pale as she strides in the air, though it was cold, she was panting heavily like a dog,...
Piercing through the heavy cold breeze was a girl riding her broom.
Clad in a black robe, it did not reflect the upcoming light but consumed it.
Her wavering long hair within the reach of the blue moon. However, was tainted by the velvet red color, it lustered like blood.
Tracing it, there was an arrow struck onto her shoulder.
The girl's face grew complexion and pale as she strides in the air, though it was cold, she was panting heavily like a dog,...
#anger
#dark
#death
#witches
#curse
24 reads
0 Comments
QuietusQuill
Poem Published
16th Aug 2019 11:20am
16th Aug 2019 11:20am
Instilling Shadows into your broken moon
There is no sussurus
bleeding from your
hollowness....
no warmth whimpers
in your boreal fulcrum,
just transference
of rabid semina nigra
swirling in lacerated eddies
from the exhale
of your lepidote morpheme
concordat,
I have hung up
my acumen
castrated
my juste-milieu;
renounced
my bend
into a free fall
break~
complicit,
I've become-
a lapdog,
...
bleeding from your
hollowness....
no warmth whimpers
in your boreal fulcrum,
just transference
of rabid semina nigra
swirling in lacerated eddies
from the exhale
of your lepidote morpheme
concordat,
I have hung up
my acumen
castrated
my juste-milieu;
renounced
my bend
into a free fall
break~
complicit,
I've become-
a lapdog,
...
#lies
#funny
#MovingOn
35 reads
2 Comments
Lozzamus
Poem Published
14th Aug 2019 9:24pm
14th Aug 2019 9:24pm
The Lonely Sunset
She hadn't been back to Dorset since leaving there, but the images remained fresh in her mind. Once again, she tasted the salt of the sea air as she and Father stood arm in arm, watching the waves splash against the shore. Ahead of them, a coat of red tinged the horizon, promising a warm start in the morning. Another day was drawing to a close. What would the next day bring?
Father was quiet, sighing. He sighed often these days; so often, she wondered if he regretted joining the group.
He stirred. 'Your friend's here.'
A red setter dashed towards...
Father was quiet, sighing. He sighed often these days; so often, she wondered if he regretted joining the group.
He stirred. 'Your friend's here.'
A red setter dashed towards...
#sadness
#childhood
#memories
47 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Fictional Prose: Short Stories and Chapters from Books and Novels
