Consequences Archives

The Flooding of Sweetface Valley

Steve CarrMay 21, 2020

The Flooding of Sweetface Valley written by: Steve Carr @carrsteven960 The river is a powerful thing. Its mighty flow that began from a melting gla...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature14 min read

Hush!

Nnane NtubeMay 18, 2020

Hush! written by: NNANE NTUBE @NnaneNtube The world at dawn, Our world we've torn, And there the thorn We face. We kiss and kill, We heal and hu...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Crash

Michal ReibenbachJanuary 12, 2020

Crash Part I written by: Michal Reibenbach Yanna and I are sitting on my bed, leaning back on pillows. It is, after all, the most comfortable place i...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature19 min read

The Elements of Life

KL MerchantDecember 2, 2019

The Elements of Life written by: Kayleigh Merchant A burning knowing of feeling like you can tell how something will turn out before it happens, Dr...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Nobody’s Prize

blocatAugust 26, 2019

Nobody's Prize written by: Blocat ‘Mummy has been very naughty, Archie, she went with another man, and now she wants to take you away, Archie, you, ...

EnglishLiterature9 min read

Those Beds

Shimbo PastoryMay 15, 2019

Those Beds written by: Shimbo Pastory The amassing tradesman and the sweating sportsman Bolts’ man down the van, and miserly herdsman up the tons Th...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Consumed

Rochelle FolesApril 18, 2019

consumed written by: Rochelle Foles @shellilouwho sitting &nbs...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

The Operation

Michal ReibenbachJanuary 22, 2019

The Operation written by: Michal Reibenbach You arrived with your husband in New York in the depth of winter. It was delightful to be greeted by a c...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature5 min read

Hearts For War

Art BlacktoothJanuary 5, 2019

Hearts For War written by: Art Blacktooth Can you sift through the rubble of broken dreams, through gaping wounds and the collateral damage of truth...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Ask Tyranny

Charlie BottleAugust 1, 2018

Ask Tyranny written by: Charlie Bottle @CharlieBottle "Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most op...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Dandelion

R.E HengstermanJuly 26, 2018

Dandelion written by: R.E Hengsterman @robhengsterman She called it Dandelion. I didn’t question. How could I? I'd brought her to this place....

EnglishLiterature4 min read

Foreign Correspondent

Ricky HawthorneFebruary 26, 2018

Foreign Correspondent written by: Ricky Hawthorne @searsjames “Look –see, here!” he cried Beckoning me over like a geography teacher And gestured w...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Autopilot

Siva WrightJanuary 21, 2018

Autopilot written by: Siva Wright Gibson was standing near the door with his hand on the knob. “Gib…!”, Karen walked to the door calling his name. S...

EnglishLiterature5 min read

Lyric for the Masses

Geovanni VillafañeJanuary 19, 2018

Lyric for the Masses written by: Geovanni Villafañe @RezZureKtedPoeT Blasted into consciousness Outfits of rage bring consequence But I can't hide,...

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 ...