reading Archives - Spillwords

Waiting Between Pages

Dan LeichtFebruary 13, 2020

Waiting Between Pages written by: Dan Leicht @Deeliopunk Every now and then I get to thinking about it about how the world is ever changing right...

EnglishFeatured PostPoetry0 min read

I’m Your Reader

Ndaba SibandaJanuary 13, 2020

I'm Your Reader written by: Ndaba Sibanda Let your accuracy be my delicacy Play with them for the meanings And notable tinkles and twinkles Let y...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

An Old Life

SpillwordsJanuary 12, 2020

An Old Life a poem by: Donald Hall Snow fell in the night. At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish mounded softness where the Honda was. Cat fed and c...

EnglishLiterary GreatsPoetry0 min read

Lines

Becca LotusJanuary 1, 2020

Lines written by: Becca Lotus @BeccaLotus Reading behind the lines today. I'll do the work. I'll read it all. Is there a message behind the lines?...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Reading Too Far Into Unsaid Rivals

Dan LeichtAugust 22, 2019

Reading Too Far Into Unsaid Rivals written by: Dan Leicht @Deeliopunk I’m at the gym reading while walking on a treadmill— at an incline of 4, the...

EnglishFeatured PostPoetry1 min read

A Different Approach

Robyn MacKinnonAugust 11, 2019

A Different Approach written by: Robyn MacKinnon @art_rat Infuriating gotta stop reading comments... a different approach ...

EnglishPoetryRobyn Finds PoetryRobyn MacKinnon0 min read

Intruders

Mickey KulpApril 16, 2019

Intruders written by: Mickey Kulp @mickey_kulp We read in a circle. The Haitian immigrant And the white southern preacher Read about hungry times ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Reader

Löst VikingOctober 14, 2018

The Reader written by: Löst Viking He would sit on his daughter’s bed, Reading tales before she’d sleep, About the frog that turned into a prince, ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

A Stronger Blend

Dan LeichtOctober 11, 2018

A Stronger Blend written by: Dan Leicht @Deeliopunk Waking up an hour early every morning making the perfect cup of coffee and reading a chapter ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Fortunes Retold

Roger TurnerJune 21, 2018

Fortunes Retold written by: roger turner @titansdad FORTUNES READ the sign displayed TRINKETS, CHARMS, AND SPELLS The store had not been here yeste...

EnglishFeatured PostPoetry6 min read

Chapters

Robin McNamaraJune 18, 2018

Chapters written by: Robin McNamara @robbiemac72 The tattered book, On the top shelf, This is me. Torn, stained pages, Well read and damaged. Ch...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Loverati

Kalam BabuMay 8, 2018

Loverati written by: Kalam Babu Anxiously, she went back to the mall for her papers the next day. The papers were there, piled neatly in a perfect s...

EnglishLiterature6 min read

A Story To Tell

Siva WrightAugust 31, 2017

A Story To Tell written by: Siva Wright They are of very little importance. This is the impression most people would have about stories. But they ar...

ArticleEnglish1 min read

Night Reading

Joyce ButlerApril 5, 2017

Night Reading written by: Joyce Butler @joycebwriter I read them all every one. All night sitting up underneath my little oil lamp I had no use...

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 ...