battle Archives - Spillwords

Gut, short story written by Jacob Greb at Spillwords.com

Gut

Jacob GrebMay 2, 2020

Gut written by: Jacob Greb The madness begins in my gut and spreads like lava through my body. All the internal organs rearrange like marching pengu...

EnglishLiterature3 min read

Thinking

SpillwordsApril 5, 2020

Thinking a poem by: Walter D Wintle If you think you are beaten, you are; If you think you dare not, you don’t. If you’d like to win, but you think ...

EnglishLiterary GreatsPoetry0 min read

Thy Days Are Done

SpillwordsMarch 22, 2020

Thy Days Are Done a poem by: Lord Byron Thy days are done, thy fame begun; Thy country's strains record The triumphs of her chosen Son, The slaught...

EnglishLiterary GreatsPoetry0 min read

The Fight

Kateri M. WalshFebruary 20, 2020

The Fight written by: Kateri M. Walsh @walshkateri It is here. The time has come. I have survived, and I know it’s all about one thing. My fait...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Keep the Life on Fleek…!

Monika Ajay KaulFebruary 18, 2020

Keep the Life on Fleek...! written by: Monika Ajay Kaul @MKaul4 Life for us chooses a unique path to tread on; and we wander in the places none ha...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Battling Depression

SahityaFebruary 2, 2020

Battling Depression written by: Sahitya Introspection of the mind The basic purpose of life is to live a life of contentment and to move forwa...

ArticleEnglish2 min read

Graveyard

Jaya AvendelJanuary 3, 2020

Graveyard written by: Jaya Avendel @AvendelJaya That frozen November day When old battlefields come to life When orange seeps from bones And tears...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Feed The Beast

Mike KannerNovember 24, 2019

Feed The Beast written by: Mike Kanner @MDKanner GALLIPOLI, 1915 Private Alexander saw movement to the observation post’s front. “Corporal, loo...

EnglishLiterature1 min read

A Knock at The Door

Jim BartlettNovember 21, 2019

A Knock at The Door written by: Jim Bartlett Maggie stares at the two plastic bags sitting atop the coffee table through bloodshot eyes narrowed to ...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature9 min read

Six Muses

prikcab (Ian Perlman)November 4, 2019

Six Muses written by: Ian Perlman (prikcab) to get back to square one having not learned a thing is an unwanted victory rest is not easy as we a...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Bermondsey to Basra Battlefronts

Nobby66October 5, 2019

Bermondsey to Basra Battlefronts written by: Nobby66 @douglas97_s 2002 Dole doldrums, Asbo estate yobbo’s attack stagnated study, mates dying o...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Magellan

Kushal PoddarSeptember 21, 2019

Magellan written by: Kushal Poddar @Kushalpoe Mother rolls a flat bread. It expands. It forges a planet. Magellan, I am. My tongue circumnavigates...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Battle of The Baltic

SpillwordsSeptember 1, 2019

Battle of The Baltic a poem by Thomas Campbell Of Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day’s renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the m...

EnglishLiterary GreatsPoetry2 min read

Battle Of Heartbreak

JayMAugust 15, 2019

Battle Of Heartbreak written by: JayM @thejaytheme And when I was awoken, It was to a different face, From the night before, A passage of time, A...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Gerardine White (mostly called Ger) grew up in wild open country of West Limerick, Ireland. Her country life is represented in her poems and has a strong bearing on her core values and education. She inherited the skill of poetic rhyme from both of her parents and her Grandad – who were all fine poets and storytellers. Her education took place mostly in South West Ireland and the rest of it is gleaned from travel, from life, and from being an avid reader of all kinds of books. In recent years she has returned to poetry writing. This past year seeing her published in four Anthologies from Clarendon House Publications. She sees herself as a Spiritual person, very connected with life in all forms. She is happily married for past 20 years and currently lives in Sussex, UK. She enjoys healthy pursuits of country walks with a nice cuppa tea and chat at the end.

Resurrection by Suzanne Craig-Whytock

On the day that Budgie died, I was young and very sad. He was a pretty bird, always singing in his cage. Sometimes we let him out to fly around, and on that day, the curtains were wide open and he slammed into the glass hard. Momma put him into a shoe box and I cried as we buried him in the back garden among the lilies. The next morning, very early, I snuck out of the house and dug him up with a garden trowel because I wanted to see him one more time. When I took the lid off the shoe box, his eyes were open and his wings fluttered ...