boy Archives - Spillwords

Agate Hunting

Jim BatesMarch 26, 2020

Agate Hunting written by: Jim Bates After we waved good-bye to the last of the guests, Janet turned to me and asked, "Where's Evan?" "I think he's ...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature6 min read

The Boy Whose Mother Left

Mir-Yashar SeyedbagheriMarch 24, 2020

The Boy Whose Mother Left written by: Mir-Yashar Seyedbagheri @dudesosad I’m the guy whose mother left. In gym, they remind me, their words a chant...

EnglishLiterature0 min read

Jabberwocky

SpillwordsFebruary 9, 2020

Jabberwocky a poem by: Lewis Carroll 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mom...

EnglishLiterary GreatsPoetry1 min read

The Party

Barbara AvonJanuary 3, 2020

The Party written by: Barbara Avon @barb_avon Raucous rock tunes drifted down to their apartment. The party was at its peak at the midnight hour. F...

EnglishLiterature2 min read

Israel

Sebastien LacasseNovember 30, 2019

Israel written by: Sebastien Lacasse @Inkwill88 In that eerie predawn glow, a voice echoed from the empty bones of the house. Israel sat in the sti...

EnglishLiterature4 min read

A River City Boy, I Shall Always… Be

Lyle HutchinsonNovember 15, 2019

A River City Boy, I Shall Always... Be written by: Lyle Hutchinson @hutch3713 City Boy City Boy We be River River Runs through thee. We grow ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Dark and Empty

Catherine Anne MacKenzieOctober 31, 2019

Dark and Empty written by: Catherine Anne MacKenzie @grannymackenzie The carousel slowly twirled while the little horses jumped through the air in ...

EnglishHalloweenLiterature14 min read

Apparition

Lee DunnOctober 28, 2019

Apparition written by: Lee Dunn @66human In the dark of your room Something cold from the tomb Awakes you with feelings of dread Seems to flo...

EnglishHalloweenPoetry0 min read

This Moment Between Moments

John BrantinghamOctober 17, 2019

This Moment Between Moments written by: John Brantingham Ebbie drops Clair off for karate at the strip mall dojo on Thursdays at 3:30 and takes an h...

EnglishLiterature2 min read

Why I Don’t Run Away Anymore

Jim BatesSeptember 30, 2019

Why I Don't Run Away Anymore written by: Jim Bates I ran away from home twice. The first time I was five years old. It was right after my sister wa...

EnglishLiterature66 min read

A New Song

Fred MillerAugust 27, 2019

A New Song written by: Fred Miller The music filled his heart as if he were hearing the words for the first time. Yet he knew better. Years ago, thi...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature21 min read

The Beacon

Dawn DeBraalAugust 17, 2019

The Beacon written by: Dawn DeBraal Dooley Bradford sat in his beat-up Ford 150 pick up at the stop and go lights of two intersecting highways, he w...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature22 min read

The Boolegger, a short story written by Frank Geiger at Spillwords.com

The Bootlegger

Frank GeigerJuly 11, 2019

The Bootlegger written by: Frank Geiger A car with an old man and a boy drove along the rural road to Whitehouse, New Jersey, and entered the small to...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature52 min read

Elegy For A Young Poet

Catherine Gigante-BrownMay 4, 2019

Elegy For A Young Poet written by: Catherine Gigante-Brown @BklynCatwoman In memory of Noah, who took his life by drowning on 10/20/13 at age 19 &nb...

EnglishPoetry1 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 ...