lights Archives - Spillwords

The Windy City

Debra Sasak RossOctober 10, 2019

The Windy City written by: Debra Sasak Ross I love the smell of the earth After a fresh Spring rain on the oily rainbow asphalt. I love the reflecti...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

GAUGES

G.R. MelvinSeptember 12, 2019

GAUGES written by: G.R. MELVIN “Life is short, and Art long; the crisis fleeting; experience perilous, and decision difficult.” - Hippocrates “In th...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Ancient Lights

Gopal LahiriAugust 27, 2019

Ancient Lights written by: Gopal Lahiri @gopallahiri blood moon giving a morsel of words earth probing the invisible border line smell of wet gra...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

PATHWAYS

Roland JuthmanMay 1, 2019

PATHWAYS written by: Roland Juthman you cannot see my scars Search as much as you want, there’s no tracing them gently, no kissing the folds, no c...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Positive Lights

John BaverstockFebruary 9, 2019

Positive Lights written by: JOHN BAVERSTOCK We all need that person, Who reassures us, everything is going to be alright, That calming influence, ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Remembrance of Tinsel

Ken Allan DronsfieldDecember 25, 2018

Remembrance of Tinsel written by: Ken Allan Dronsfield @KenKadfield Flowing grace, waving in the breeze like crowds at a ball game. Back-lit with co...

ChristmasEnglishPoetry1 min read

Dark Sky

Joseph S. PeteOctober 17, 2018

Dark Sky written by: Joseph S. Pete @nwi_jsp Streetlights illuminate but also obfuscate the vast twinkling empyrean, that tenebrous canvas for ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

All Of Eternity Lit

Amanda EifertOctober 15, 2018

All of Eternity Lit written by: Amanda Eifert @mandibelle16 All of the lights, those vast ships distant. All of the lights, those mesmerizing je...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

FLICKING LIGHTS

Jeffrey Dean GrayJuly 16, 2018

FLICKING LIGHTS written by: Jeffrey Dean Gray It was short Off and on One decorated room at a time He smelled it in the air A burn Electrica...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Lights

Cindy MedinaDecember 15, 2017

Lights written by: Cindy Medina @Cindy_M65 Red- spicy winter passion Green- pine's never-ending fashion Blue- polar essence elegance Gold- mim...

ChristmasEnglishPoetry0 min read

Rites Of Passage

Michael SheaOctober 7, 2017

Rites Of Passage written by: Michael Shea @calmsbehaviour Sounds are clearer? Yes less muffled, pressure on squeezed and pummelled. Softness and w...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

9:01pm

Alyssa TrivettSeptember 27, 2017

9:01pm written by: Alyssa Trivett @alyssalovestowrite The lights flickered again, I heard a few chimes exit stage left. Clock ticks simultaneously ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

On The Bus

Janday LeeMay 27, 2017

On the bus written by: Janday Lee @jandaylee I love to take the bus and look out of the window glass. Gazing at the street lights that shine brigh...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Knight

ErosVerseSeptember 1, 2016

Knight written by: ErosVerse @ErosVerse Knight of Lights Abiding Keeping watch In truth defying Lying lips, conniving Conning star ships Home, ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

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Phyllis P. Colucci is a freelance/indie author from Brooklyn, New York. She is currently retired from a Supervisory Administrative position with a Federal law enforcement agency in New York City, and is now pursuing her passion for writing fiction and poetry. She has always had a love for writing over the years, whether it be poetry, short stories or novels; and mystery and suspense is something she has recently gravitated towards with a touch of romance and that "New York edge". Phyllis has three novels, one novella and an Anthology of original poems currently on the Amazon market, and continues to be part of the Spillwords writing community by sharing/contributing her fiction and poetry on a monthly basis. She also has a writing blog under the name of "FictionTarot" where she hopes to entertain readers, take them on journeys page by page - and perhaps make a difference with a blog.

Bodies In The Basement by M. Taggart

It was a crisp, damp, October night.
“When we get to the Church I’ll go down first.” Colin was thinking of the moment when both he and Aaron would be standing at the top of the basement stairs peering down into the darkness.
The old stone Church was perched at the top of the largest hill on the prep school’s campus. Colin’s parents were professors at the school and their house was on campus grounds. They’d been waiting for Colin’s parents to fall asleep upstairs. Both boys were comfortable in their sleeping bags on the screened in porch. The lights had been turned out an hour ago and Colin felt it was time to slip into the night ...