You don’t have to consider yourself an “artist” to make art. Creativity is more than just storytelling, it’s a form of expression, an active release. The motion of physically creating something and seeing it before you, transforms thoughts into realization. Create from what propels you. Create for yourself before anyone else. You don’t always have to share what you make, what matters is getting it out.
Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure, only death can stop it.Ernest Hemingway
Captcha,Here is my answer:I am,Quite regrettably,Human.Although I wishI wereA combinationOf wiresAnd programsLike you.This way,I could uninstallAll memoriesOf mankind’sUnkindness. Bob McNeil wrote Verses of Realness (https://tinylink.net/muF6C). Hal Sirowitz, a former Queens, NY Poet Laureate, called the book “a fantastic trip through the mind of a poet who doesn’t flinch at the truth.”
I. If the world is ending, don’t come to see meBecause that would mean that you took a busAnd you hate taking buses – the wait, the journey, the destinationAnd that’s when I’d realize yet again, how much I love you. II. What if when the apocalypse hits, there are showers of flowers?I think I’d […]
fireflies are contagious creaturesi caught one out of the corner of my eyebut when i blur my eyesthe shape exchangesinto a summer mist. underneath my clothessometimes it is the wild ways that find me—fireflies, long summer daysthunderstorms shaking blades of dune grassin the middle of an ocean swim.we get outwhile the sunshine shapes the rest […]
As I push the lawn mower,Past brush and broken dreams,Of flowers growing in fields,That will never cultivate reality,Acres of promise,Buried purpose by law,Suffocated seeds awaiting,To expose the future cause,Only heat, air and summer rain,Can change amid the times,Love lost its circumstance,Bonds dropped its cost,Leaving all plans,Lost,Dare I use the summer,To find them. Shiela Denise Scott, […]
F lora Fiction is looking for artists, writers, poets, photographers, illustrators, and others to be featured for Volume 3 Issue 3 online literary magazine set to release on September 22, 2022. We’re inspired by you and would love to see what you have to offer. Please check out our previous issues for reference of work we’ve published. If […]
So here I am treading the waters of time,Day currents have fanned and wander so slow,At my desk I stay until well after nine. Sunk deep into work, this long shift that is mine,The hours so heavy that they barely flow,Clocked in not clocked out until well after nine, This work-river I find is all […]
The hull nestles into the sandy bosom of the shoreWith a lulling shush.Syncopated song of life surrounding–Lapping tide, cicadas in the underbrush.This kingdom stirs me with its rhythmLike a cradle in the waves.I am Annabel unsepulcheredResurrected from the grave.Tiny island engulfed by vast space,Warm and deep.Space enough to wander, wonder,Dream, sleep. Sleep.This journey leaves a […]
Inside this small cold house,all belief is doubtinghymns the choir sang,all our breaths in harnessto our clouded lips,all mouths downtrodden,and atmosphere defiling,fear, despair,at this terrible unknowing,clouds rolling in,faceless faces,nowhere to hide,a forever chillin fogs that sink low,muffle our voices,compress our brainsuntil we know nothing clear,cracked hands,bleeding cheeks,human masks breaking offin large chunks,every momenta parched sacrifice […]
behind, behind, behindkeep running, you’ll never catch upthe years have already passed you by, little girlno sense in breaking your legs to catch up with themlay down on the ground and cry your pretty little eyes outaccept your defeat and stop your whiningthis is the hand that God has dealt youdon’t ask questions about his […]
On this walk, as with all days,I move,until the moon,usurps the sun.The songs of life ongoing,do their best, to fill the barren space,you once occupied.Is it hubris,to say, you are the best there ever was.Daydreams of our eleventh hour,what I could have articulated, differently.How life could change so irrevocably in your absence.Why the sun burns […]
Maybe rain was comingin torrents, or snowpiled up outside the meagerlean-to the day maninvented fire.Maybe his legs were brokenfrom a fall down the sideof an icy mountain.The woman dragged himto his pine-bough bed.Confined, cold and hungry,he complained as the womannursed their insatiable babe. He drummed two sticksagainst a log to the cadenceof the baby’s sucking,rubbed […]
there is a short list of things you want right now:rest, comfort,a hand pressed against the small of your backpeace, rapture. but not the kind of rapture folks dream ofno final redemption hereno explosive joyjust his body next to yours it’s funny, you’ve decidedthat you seek rapture in the most sinful of kisseshis lips against […]
Something went wrong. Please refresh the page and/or try again.