war Archives - Spillwords

The Rifle

Russell ColcloughMay 18, 2020

The Rifle written by: Russell Colclough This rifle sure gets heavy, I have seen so many unspeakable things in my life. The horrors of war are more t...

EnglishPoetry3 min read

You Have My Word

Rakind KaurMay 12, 2020

You Have My Word written by: Rakind Kaur @khwabgah Slowly, as the plastic engulfs my planet as fossil fuels corrode my forests as prog...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Mad World

Mary RamseyMay 10, 2020

Mad World written by: Mary Ramsey @pisforpearl Sara brushed a strand of her blonde hair from her forehead as she opened the DVD. Tonight was going ...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature12 min read

Warfighter, Peacemaker

Tom BurtonMay 3, 2020

Warfighter, Peacemaker written by: Tom Burton 'This is our block!’ ‘We were ‘ere first, you bastards!’ John Ward shoves away from his desk, li...

EnglishLiterature5 min read

COVID-19 PANDEMIC

Phyllis P. ColucciApril 12, 2020

COVID-19 PANDEMIC War On The World written by: Phyllis P. Colucci @FictionTarot You came like a thief in the night without warning. You came alive...

ArticleEnglishFeatured Post3 min read

Corona

Mike TurnerApril 8, 2020

Corona written by: Mike Turner @SchoonerSkipper In the third decade of the 21st Century Earth was in peril Her skies clouded with emissions Her w...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Covid-19

Glynn SinclareApril 3, 2020

Covid-19 written by: Glynn Sinclare @chitanclare I see the cloths blowing in the wind, the garden flowering in spring blooms. Glorious skies of b...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Coronavirus The Invisible Beast

Donna AfricaApril 1, 2020

Coronavirus The Invisible Beast written by: Donna Africa @DonnaAfrica The time has come to unite To collectively fight the good fight As coronaviru...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Bones

Ash GallagherMarch 30, 2020

Bones written by: Ash Gallagher @beatnikjourno There is a story I must tell you, Behind the coconuts in the rock. True, you may find it strange or ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

All Is Well

Probal BasakMarch 23, 2020

All Is Well written by: Probal Basak @pbkeyboy Larry says, “All is well.” Uniform queues up before hell. Mad king dips in barrel....

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Divine Whiplashes

Satabdi SahaMarch 12, 2020

Divine Whiplashes written by: Satabdi Saha I step out of myself to understand The folly of your creativity. Befuddled, I can't reason with that co...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Uncle George

Gary S. CrawfordMarch 10, 2020

Uncle George written by: Garry S. Crawford @crawsat October 1999 Here comes someone. Wonder who it is? Probably wants something. No one ever com...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature16 min read

The Waiting Days

Orlando BlakeFebruary 29, 2020

The Waiting Days written by: Orlando Blake Grounds were inundated With chirpy flowers, Some were too small To move a soccer ball, Others made the ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

The American President, A.D. 2169-2077

Tom BallFebruary 26, 2020

The American President, A.D. 2169-2077 written by: Tom Ball As President, I said I wanted what was best for the masses. And the economy grew 10% in ...

EnglishLiterature2 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 ...