Category: storypoems
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Waste
Each day, despite the weather or his ailments, he rooted through the hills and valleys of discarded boxes, dilapidated furniture, and broken equipment. He enjoyed the smells, especially latex paint when it spilled from its container to waft for a dominant moment over the pungent odors of rotting food. He was not overly fond of…
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Playground
A child with monsters in her head ran screaming across the playground. As her feet left the asphalt touching cool bladed grass her demons transformed into swans and she flew with arms stretched flapping over water to her waiting friends. Excerpt from Light-Years in the Dark: StoryPoems (see more) photo-art design by todd crawshaw
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Prism
In the vast shadow of a garden he was on his back questioning the moon and stars. It took more than the strategic leap of an astronaut’s faith to reach the blackness. The luminous net of clouds would be too soft and forgiving to stop or catch his fall. He had to first escape the…
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Sound
At a city intersection stood a man who spoke of trumpets in his head, an entire orchestra that performed solely for him. Bloated and shirtless, conducting the air with his hands, he stopped to twirl the ends of his beard before grabbing the torn wings of his coat as if preparing for flight. Passersby paused…
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Rainstorm
She walked into a rainstorm of cobalt blue. Viridian green. Aquas. Emeralds. The colors fell around her with each brush stroke, spattering her clothes, her hair, the ground. She reached into the sky and brought down a shower of wetness with her fingertips. She fell in love with the droplets as they shimmered, trickling off…
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Mask
In a remote mountain village lived a man who wore a mask. The residents of this town regarded the new arrival as a pitiful curiosity since it was assumed by all that he was hiding some hideous deformity. He stayed inside his cabin, venturing out only to purchase provisions or for solitary walks at night.…
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Timing
At the subway station a man was talking to himself about the inaccuracy of time relative to his inability to do what he wanted to do and be where he needed to be in order to meet his deadlines. He had overslept. His alarm clock failing once again to do its job. His office assistants…
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Passion
She sat in a glass booth selling tickets to those who wished to view her life. The price was negotiable but she never gave it away for free. There was no value to the encounter if people believed she was worth nothing. On this philosophy she built a steady clientele. These patrons enjoyed her company…
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Freak
On the outskirts of a small town miles from the nearest city lived the two-headed man. A freak of nature. In reality, twins sharing organs and extremities. Whose parents were flying trapeze artists, hired by a circus primarily to acquire their son. Lacking talent, they fell to their deaths when he was only a child.…
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Years
The river asked me who I was to be gazing so longingly into her curving body of cascading dreams and shifting beauty. Excerpt from Light-Years in the Dark: StoryPoems (see more) photo-art design by todd crawshaw