name Archives - Spillwords

Zephyr

Ipsita BanerjeeOctober 14, 2019

Zephyr written by: Ipsita Banerjee @ipsyb When I die scatter my ashes Somewhere like this. Where the morning creeps in On the wings of a whistling...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Don’t Ask

Magdalena PodobińskaSeptember 18, 2019

Don't Ask written by: Magdalena Podobińska Don't ask about my age I wouldn't know what to say you see, there were so many birthdays so many d...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Amour

Gabriela MMay 1, 2019

Amour written by: Gabriela M @shortprose1 amour your secret hides inside my name inside the splendor of the night in which you didn’t say a word ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Girl With No Name

Girl wanna writeApril 22, 2019

The Girl With No Name written by: Girl wanna write @mailgarima A girl stood tall near the stall Shivering & cuddling in her own arms Often seen...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

A Paint Shop For The Colour Blind

Roger TurnerFebruary 20, 2018

A Paint Shop For The Colour Blind written by: roger turner @titansdad looking out into the street there's a line a mile long i haven't even opened ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

My Baby Has No Name

Rob BatistaDecember 26, 2017

My Baby Has No Name written by: Rob Batista @authorrbatista I am eighteen years old, so young to have gone through so much. The good nurse peeks h...

EnglishLiterature9 min read

A Name

Amanda NeedhamOctober 17, 2017

A Name written by: Amanda Needham My grandmother was named after a man. Let it be written in freckles on her face, And fall from her tongue like m...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Bombay

Ipsita BanerjeeAugust 12, 2017

Bombay written by: Ipsita Banerjee @ipsyb I never can call you “Mumbai”: In one corner you will always remain The Bombay of my youth, of dreams...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

What Name Are You

Cary Chrysler (skyinthegrass)May 1, 2017

What Name Are You written by: Cary Chrysler (skyinthegrass) @skyinthegrass What rhyme has found its way, to such a living soul? What name are you, ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Name

Natalia AeschlimanMarch 5, 2017

Name written by: Natalia Aeschliman @NataliaAeschlim With the October wind you left Never looking back Roaming the empty halls Of abandoned labyrinth...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Overload

IngelaNovember 12, 2016

Overload written by: Ingela(saja) @ingelasaja Can you hear me? Can you see me? What is your name? What day is it? Where are you? What is your name?...

English0 min read

Flower ‘X’

Seorin KaeAugust 26, 2016

Flower 'X' written by: Seorin Kae @SeorinKae Counting the hours I toss I turn I float in a tiny, clouded flower vase trying to find some form of comf...

English1 min read

No more articles

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 ...