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Blogs

Latest comments

  • In the Mist
    Thank you. I’m glad you’ve read them all. 😊
  • A Laplace for Everything...
    You paint some wonderful pictures with words and your ranch sounds like a retreat from the crazy world in which we exist these days. Covid taught...
  • In the Mist
    I have to say. Of all your poems that I've read so far, I really like this one best. The emotional content in it is very familiar. Very well...
  • Blathering's and Updates from the Shadow Puppet Bob
    I've taken a look at your image bob, and as far as I can see the image size is 2886 x 3484px. Try resizing to before you upload and see if that helps
  • Blathering's and Updates from the Shadow Puppet Bob
    Hey Bob, just circling back to this. :) I am pleased you are enjoying the new WF blog and you have the opportunity to shine a light on your muses...

Latest reviews

  • Waiting for Geppetto:
    5.00 star(s)
    if i were to live 300 years, i'd not be surprised to find this work this alongside society's...
    • -xXx-

Blogs statistics

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1
Once upon a Vulture (language warning) I woke up from my nap on desert sand in the hot baking sun. A kettle of vultures was circling over me waiting for my demise, while a wake of buzzards perched on dead branches of an old oak tree, sang songs about death and decay. In vulturese they shrieked: rotten meats what lovely treats- slimy skin soaked in piety and sin- sinew and bone drenched in blackened blood- putrefaction in glorious action - we lick, fart, burp and slurp drink, eat, shit...
The Sixth Chamber Chapter One: The Devil’s Throat Yarrod wasn’t certain where or when he began—only that he endured. Pain gave him some comfort, some substance. He hungered and thirsted, suffered and weakened, like any other man. There the similarity ended. No womb birthed him and no grave waited. Or so it seemed. He watched the world revolve, and borrowed what time he could to remind himself he was no ghost. He turned to look behind at the infinite empty. Wind sculpted cresting waves...
G: "Since we're incapable of keeping silent." D: "You're right, we're inexhaustible." G: "It's so we won't think." D: "We have that excuse." G: "It's so we won't hear." D: "We have our reasons." G: "All the dead voices." D: "They make a noise like wings." G: "Like leaves." D: "Like sand." G: "Like Leaves." D: "To have lived is not enough for them. To be dead is not enough for them." G: "They make a noise like feathers." D: "Like leaves." -"Waiting for Godot" by Samuel...
In the Eyes of a Goat As I walk on that rocky road to salvation jagged stone sends me tumbling into a valley of darkness I cannot see what’s before me but I can hear the strutting sounds of a goat in heat I sing it a lullaby to sooth its dark desires and offer it a poisoned treat but it sees through my malicious intention- it spits it in my face damns the human race and sends me on that twisted road to perdition This was missing from the series
...And Everything in it's Laplace. I thought I'd take this journal entry as an opportunity to describe my Ranch in depth. You've heard precious little, other than The Ertan Deep. My place is roughly 15 acres. This will be the most boring entry I post in this blog. If you want to skip this one, I don't blame you. Outside my door is a giant clump of chocolate mint. I didn't even plant it. It was in a planter on the ground for one summer and spilled over. The plant, like every member...
candle's slow burn a puddle of melting wax-- we called it love (c) Neetu Malik Image: riteshman/ pixabay
There's heavy atmosphere today. Thunder is rocking this house and shaking it's old window panes. Rain is beating against the roof like some wild animal. Now is the time to talk about the Red Brick Church. I'm only going to call it The Red Brick Church. Giving it's full name would pinpoint me on the map, as it is, literally the closest structure to my ranch. First things first, no, the church is not on my property. Two, the church is not only still in service, it's currently hosting...
1 You see a wiry bald man with a blonde mustache and goatee. He's dressed all in black and pale with slumping posture. His blue eyes, ice and rime, cast on a keyboard that his fingers occupy. Above his line of sight is a computer monitor broadcasting the blog entry page for Writing Forums. If you wish to speak to him, Turn to 230. If you wish to let him make the first move, Turn to 57 57 He doesn't move, save for slowly nodding his head. His lips part and he begins to speak aloud...
If I were blind, I would know you by the touch of your hand, the sound of your voice, the bleeding of your heart but I am one with eyes aware of yours.......dwelling on the color of my skin the doubt in your mind, I am wishing we were both blind (c) Neetu Malik Image: Cozmicphoto/ Pixabay
Satannas-Jesuriah (ShHeNa) Born to Joshua, (Son of Man and Heaven) and Sateen, (Daughter of Women and Hell), during the first Apocalypse, (commonly known as “Joshua’s Folly”). Due to the time fluctuations and distortions caused by Time’s Keeper (DiAthAnaTos) the Soul Twins in Sateen’s belly merged and coalesced into a single body while still sharing two distinct personalities, Male and Female. They had an ability to flicker into male or female at whim. They were born near full grown...
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