food Archives - Spillwords

My Hair Eats Everything

Barbara Harris LeonhardMay 16, 2020

My Hair Eats Everything written by: Barbara Harris Leonhard Silver pelage. Static cling Velcro mouth gulping my life. My hair, a pantry of my days. ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

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

Promise Kept

David C RussellApril 4, 2020

Promise Kept written by: David C Russell “Dad, how come you're pulling in here? I thought we were going out for lunch.” “I just need to pick up a f...

EnglishLiterature7 min read

Blueberry Banter & Blueberry Blues

Fay Marmalich-VietmeierMarch 23, 2020

Blueberry Banter & Blueberry Blues written by: Fay Marmalich-Vietmeier Blueberry beginnings and Blueberry ends, A Valentine verse for my family...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Time For Cake

Tess M ShepherdJanuary 11, 2020

Time For Cake written by: Tess M Shepherd The key jammed in the frozen lock. Again. A daily struggle in mittens, with the outside light, still unfixed...

EnglishLiterature2 min read

Musing About Island Christmas of Years Past

Sheila HenryDecember 25, 2019

Musing About Island Christmas of Years Past written by: Sheila Henry Christmas morn I sit quietly with thoughts reminiscing on Christmases past. ...

ChristmasEnglishPoetry1 min read

Christmas Dinner

Richard PrimeDecember 22, 2019

Christmas Dinner written by: Richard Prime After twenty five years of life in London, Paul and his wife, Helen, decided to abandon the cut and thrus...

ChristmasEnglishLiterature5 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

Starving

Dan LeichtOctober 2, 2019

Starving written by: Dan Leicht @Deeliopunk Two squirrels are fighting over the last acorn the winner will get to bury it the loser will forget ab...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Spice Of Life

Debbie ArutaSeptember 3, 2019

Spice Of Life written by: Debbie Aruta @Debbie_Aruta Her soul intertwined with her lovers. She gave her whole self to a relationship, but lately sh...

EnglishLiterature6 min read

Cowboy Coffee

Roger TurnerAugust 26, 2019

Cowboy Coffee written by: Roger Turner @titansdad wind is coming in sun is just showing horses are watered fire is glowing movement is starting ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Hummus

Charlie BottleJuly 30, 2019

Hummus written by: Charlie Bottle @CharlieBottle This creamy hummus, contains the unattainable dreams, of thousands of chickpeas, olives, garlic...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Nothing Up My Sleeve

Shawn M. KlimekJune 2, 2019

Nothing Up My Sleeve written by: Shawn M. Klimek The trader twisted the end of his black beard while scrutinizing my face for any hints of deception...

EnglishLiterature3 min read

Chowder

DS (Diarmuid) MaolalaiMay 27, 2019

Chowder written by: DS (Diarmuid) Maolalai @diarmo1990 we decide not to have breakfast at all and instead stay in bed and head straight to...

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 ...