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Bleeker Street Bungalow

Mark Kuglin·March 11, 2022

Bleeker Street Bungalow written by: Mark Kuglin @cr8fiction My Bleeker Street bungalow had been on the market...

English Literature

·5 mins read

I’m Like This

Marian Dziwisz·March 9, 2022

I'm Like This written by: Marian Dziwisz - I'm like a street player who plays to himself and the pigeons,..

International Poetry Polish English

·1 min read

Frozen

Joan McNerney·March 7, 2022

Frozen written by: Joan McNerney We simply exist under a metallic sky of ten degrees Fahrenheit breaking...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Night Lamp

Tapeshwar Yadav·February 17, 2022

Night Lamp written by: Tapeshwar Yadav Stand straight in front of the street night lamp See for...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Gone Long Ago

Roger Haydon·January 10, 2022

Gone Long Ago written by: Roger Haydon @blueskyabove A street corner, almost crowded, tonight’s hot supper at...

English Poetry

·1 min read

London

Spillwords·January 9, 2022

London a poem by William Blake I wandered through each chartered street, Near where the chartered Thames...

English Literary Greats Poetry

·1 min read

The Joy of Christmas

Giti Tyagi·December 20, 2021

The Joy of Christmas written by: Giti Tyagi The festive season commences full throttle, The joyous laughs,...

Poetry Christmas English

·1 min read

Nightmare

Verona Jones·December 1, 2021

Nightmare written by: Verona Jones @VeronaJ57 A single lantern shines faintly, through a mantle of icy mist when...

English Haunted Holidays Poetry

·1 min read

Just Before The Bridge

Ash Douglas·November 23, 2021

Just Before the Bridge written by: Ash Douglas @The_PunAsher four shadows passing by midnight the king, the jack,...

Poetry English

·1 min read

A Mile Away

Justin Deming·November 5, 2021

A Mile Away written by: Justin Deming @j_deming_ On her first road test, she forgot to put...

Literature English

·1 min read

Luxurious Glory of Halloween

Maid Corbic·October 30, 2021

Luxurious Glory of Halloween written by: Maid Corbic I am always afraid of being left alone in...

Halloween English Poetry

·1 min read

Silent Scream

Verona Jones·October 27, 2021

Silent Scream written by: Verona Jones @VeronaJ57 Her breath came hard and fast as she hurriedly walked along...

Poetry Halloween English

·1 min read

Raven Street

Barbara Avon·October 21, 2021

Raven Street written by: Barbara Avon @barb_avon And so it ends on Raven Street Where spirits flow...

Poetry Halloween English

·1 min read

Invisible Wounds

Lisa H. Owens·June 1, 2021

Invisible Wounds written by: Lisa H. Owens @LisaHOwens I have been beaten up. Beat beyond recognition. I...

Cindy Georgakas is a writer of words in poetry, prose and reflections of her heart. She was voted the Publication of the Month on Spillwords Oct. 2022. She is a co-author of #1 Amazon Bestseller, Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women, and is also a monthly contributor to MastecadoresUsa. She was born in San Francisco, California and lives nestled in the trees in a small community about 40 minutes south of San Francisco with her husband. She is a life health coach, and massage and craniosacral therapist who draws inspiration from her daily interactions with clients, friends, her 4 children and nature. Her website is Uniquely Fit. She can also be found on Instagram #ahamoments. Cindy's book Re-create & Celebrate 7 Steps To Turning Your Dreams Into Reality will be released this month.

Brain in a Jar by Anthony Doyle

Take your gloves off, let’s see who you are, he said, chin out, shoulders rolling, pecs puffing, Take ’em off. Let’s see if you can take it raw—all fuel for the fire. I always was a strutting fool. I knew it was dumb, I knew it. Walk away, the only thing you gotta hit right now is the shower. I didn’t need this. I wore belts, I held titles. I was posing in posters on dirty walls and fire-doors, I was legit. Who was he? A street scuffler, a cage fighter. I knew it, and yet I took them off, I unwrapped the straps, I bit the leather and pulled them right off. The light is autumn steel today, bolted to the ceiling. In summer it was a yellow balm, a hot wet kiss. I knew it was dumb, and she keeps whistling that same song, Nurse Mercedes, the same catchy dance tune...

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