longing Archives - Spillwords

The Dog She Was

ArikuiNovember 12, 2019

The Dog She Was written by: Arikui She’s not the dog she was ten years ago, When she would run for country miles. Stiles and fences flew beneath he...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Sonnet 2

Mubangizi EmmyNovember 8, 2019

Sonnet 2 written by: Mubangizi Emmy Estrella dear So far from here How I long to have you near To sing the songs we love to hear There's always so...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Goodnight Denver

BrandSeptember 25, 2019

Goodnight Denver written by: Brand Sometimes I miss home. The mountains, the air, The strong familiar scent of animals conducting their business. ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

You Think

Irena Ewa IdzikowskaSeptember 18, 2019

You Think written by: Irena Ewa Idzikowska translated by: Artur Komoter you think it's rain but it's just condensed longings hitting on the ...

EnglishInternationalPoetryPolish1 min read

Dilemmas Of The Heart

Bozena Helena Mazur-NowakAugust 16, 2019

Dilemmas Of The Heart written by: Bozena Helena Mazur-Nowak Each night I return to those green fields To the fragrant linden trees, willows with th...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Last Word

Welkin SiskinAugust 9, 2019

The Last Word written by: Welkin Siskin Lest I discover you not In the realm of my heart, I give in all to touch thy souls. Man’s life is replete w...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Eternal Summer

Chasity GainesAugust 8, 2019

Eternal Summer written by: Chasity Gaines @ChasityAnneGai1 Once upon a time Life was easy peasy an adventure every day No responsibilities Runnin...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Suitcases

Mary Ellen GambuttiJuly 28, 2019

Suitcases written by: Mary Ellen Gambutti @melcmg After he died, I went out to help you empty the house and put it up for sale. I sifted through pa...

EnglishLiterature13 min read

All Bottles Hold A Message

NomiddlenameJuly 13, 2019

All Bottles Hold A Message written by: Nomiddlename the ocean’s ageless skin crumples beneath my stained glass stare retreating over ancient gilde...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Shades of Dawn

Vickie J. LittenJune 26, 2019

Shades of Dawn written by: Vickie J. Litten Sunday morning I forgot and reached for you, but found only cool sheets and empty pillow. The dream wa...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Crazy

Susie FoughtJune 22, 2019

Crazy written by: Susie Fought She’s standing up there. Stiff. One leg throbbing. Holding the microphone like a baby bird. Backlit. Blue Neon. Large a...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Fearful Moments of Tranquility

George Gad EconomouMay 10, 2019

Fearful Moments of Tranquility written by: George Gad Economou @GeorgeGad17 calm before the storm, as drinks are poured, a hot embrace sought, f...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Separated

MadhumitaMay 10, 2019

Separated written by: Madhumita @madhumita6 The heart hurt but the lips smiled, Pain reinvents itself in the eyes, sits unreconciled, Unarmed, In front o...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Letting Go

Dianne MoritzMay 6, 2019

Letting Go written by: Dianne Moritz Do you spit out words as you might a bite of bruised apple? Do you say: Today my dog died? Do you tell how you...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

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 ...