struggle Archives - Spillwords

...on Poetry and Fiction - Just “One Word” Away ("Dimonds"), editorial by Phyllis P. Colucci at Spillwords.com

…On Poetry and Fiction Just “One Word” Away (“Diamonds”)

Phyllis P. ColucciMay 31, 2020

…On Poetry and Fiction Just “One Word” Away ("Diamonds") written by: Phyllis P. Colucci @FictionTarot One word becomes one idea, becomes one sente...

EditorialEnglishFeatured Post1 min read

Front Line

R William StandishMay 26, 2020

Front Line written by: R William Standish “It’s dark inside my skin, you promised to be my light.” This is the text message alert I sent myself today ...

ArticleEnglish33 min read

Bells

Carson PytellMay 22, 2020

Bells written by: Carson Pytell Wrestling crotchety cathexes, the objects of which are himself, constancy and ripe ultimacy, the carillonneur walks...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Art, Work or Family

Ferris E JonesMay 4, 2020

Art, Work or Family written by: Ferris E Jones The heaviness can't be approached. Slowly, its multitudes of victims Bury themselves in the hours was...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Is This What It’s To Come?

Jack Wolfe FrostApril 30, 2020

Is This What It's To Come? written by: Jack Wolfe Frost @JackWolfeWriter Is this what it’s come to, my struggles and strifes, Breaking my back for t...

EnglishFeatured PostPoetry1 min read

Morning Prayer

Andrea MyingaApril 22, 2020

Morning Prayer written by: Andrea Myinga This is my morning prayer, Prior to climbing off my bed, That God let today be good As you always wish it ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Covid-19 Commentary

Okpa usangApril 18, 2020

Covid-19 Commentary written by: Okpa Usang For me, everything seems the world is coming to an end. It all started as a joke but now is getting out of ...

ArticleEnglish0 min read

Time That Is Gone

Sharmila MitraApril 17, 2020

Time That Is Gone written by: Sharmila Mitra The music of the dance hall is no more. All patrons have become too old to dance. Our favourite taverns...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Heading Towards The Summit

John BaverstockApril 11, 2020

Heading Towards The Summit written by: JOHN BAVERSTOCK We all stood at the bottom, Of a very big mountain, Staring up, at the journey, That we face...

EnglishFeatured PostPoetry1 min read

Blue

KL MerchantApril 9, 2020

Blue written by: KL Merchant The aftermath of the fireball that hit all of mankind creating a crust layer that ripped through the entire system, Ca...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

I Peel Paper

Kindra M. AustinMarch 17, 2020

I Peel Paper written by: Kindra M. Austin @AustinKindra I peel paper, yellow— jaundice skin, is it mine? I sit inside myself. I am a room w...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Fight

Kateri M. WalshFebruary 20, 2020

The Fight written by: Kateri M. Walsh @walshkateri It is here. The time has come. I have survived, and I know it’s all about one thing. My fait...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Vapour Trails

Diane LeopardFebruary 18, 2020

Vapour Trails written by: Diane Leopard @dianeleopard Vapour trails in the sky Floating, drifting way up high Each plane filled with passenge...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Salt In The Wound

C. Louise WilliamsFebruary 17, 2020

Salt In The Wound written by: C. Louise Williams @akaCLouise I remembered you sitting beneath me shining smiles up at me, my neck your mouth met ...

EnglishPoetry1 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 ...