http://slow.writerscafe.org/stephaniewehe The original writings of author Stephanie W. en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776018899 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 instrumentals and the hollowjust thereat the bottom of your neckthat gorge like a spoon restindifferent http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/1132381/ In Athenslung inflammationis becoming rampant Before WWIItheir forests grew thickwith treesnow Their fireplaces are no longer for decoration The poorest among them have begun to burntheir furniture The paintsmell wafts into adjacentneighborhoodsStella and Andreas(in thick wool sweaters)fan the flame.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/1125665/ if it isn’t youit’s prey to otherand other may not sing to usof the balding waif of a serious loveand killing our fortunes and smearing our kingdoms all over usput the flat bottom of a bare footagainst usin the middle of the streetagain and again and againin some high, hot clinging front.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/1125653/ Hey, St. Judethe harmonies sound goodI always forgetare you brother or betrayer to him?You ran toward mecarrying that blue snakebetween your teethto tell me that America isn’t really minethe light went out in anyones woodsI’ll be alone in a little whileI found you when I was youngit&rsqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/1117093/ the chief of graves has been digging for a decadethey have tried to build houses upon his ground too soonfathers keep returning sometimes with bullets in their handsthey are still collecting the bones that look like a potential match sometimes even the mothers have no ears I superimpose their faces .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/1117090/ inspired by Patti S. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/1013810/ I’m holding my breath till July-when Matt gave me that guitar with blood inside of it. I saw him in the woods last nightAnd he answered his own questions-“How much does a hipster weigh?…An instagram.” “Seeing you last night was a dream realizedand it looks like I won&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/986807/ When self meeting self returns a gazeall records must be written in redIf you are following breadcrumbsof what you call “the life,”then I am the barren one,the silence, the utteranceof my own nameAll Wernher Von Braunwanted was the moonAnd now every time I lovesom.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/976071/                  *I am a woman giving birthto myselfI got turned into a man, foughtwith the deviland walked on his head All three of us lived my lifemy way,but the pictures didn’t turn out I died from the man.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/972595/ Not in body, via surrogacy kooky anemone amorous stingstraces of you, transubstantiatedthe wine on your lips becomes meelemental, ground to mineralhistory stitched into my seamno substance, no animals hereraise a stained glass finger to abductlinger pulp and crumbleconstellation, just enough. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/972587/ look at my hands-they are sling-backbottle necksstemming towardsyour Palestinian kiss,depositing a smallbundle of selfupon the fields,carving a pathfor yourself to exist in,like the historiesof the lands weleft.I couldn’t regulatemy temperaturewhich might havesomething to dowith the bloodexcha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/972583/ in times like these (whichcannot even be called time)even the silver lining is too bright                        Somebody presses pause(your picture swishes towards me like a br.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/964816/ there's something archaic, Biblically strikingwhen after waking you say "phenomenal" to meand nothing else for daysyou lie there, chest heaving steadilyturbulent lightness giving wisp to desiresabstract you, absent of designarticulate in breath there's something beautiful about the sounds you make t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/954779/ say something about us and I'll come backwhen the flowers turn brownwhen a choir of cacti flex their needles to interceptI'll come backwhen we are leathered, strapped down, creased with animal memories of past lives. when river's moonstone bride stands bleachedin the canyons, caked on makeup,droopin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/952194/ There are momentsseldom and silent and ever lacking reasonWhere I summon youor maybe I should say conjureand instead I find a feeling where your face should bestruck by the ways a memory of youis really a memory of everybody else a memory of the alchemy of flat palms against the damp grassand the sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/872966/ experimental sentence poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/829139/               Apples don't fall far.            Unless they're in, you know, orbit.                    I didn't.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/828136/ Trying to write sonnets.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/825183/ If it was physically possible, I'd spill my guts.I don't want there to be a day you don't think of me.I don't want there to be a day you think of me                                          .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/825177/ There’s a full moon caught in my throat.As the wailing clasp of that blood-red puppeteer Draws the shade,The words drift from me on little boatsDefiled and wild-Dancing sharp with violent joy.Revenge is an heirloom.It appraised my love left still to shredAnd lai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/816662/ Beauty Donkey,My new best friendWe met up outside LeipzigIn a vegan cupcake insomniac dazeWe sang french to the hayHappy Sundays kissing alien lovers Between the fence our muzzles meshedHopelessly believing it may work it's magicYour dewey pools, dark lashed depths Like l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/816361/ An assignment for my advanced poetry comp class regarding the playfulness of various sounds, excluding rhyme. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/808166/ What do you doWhen your God is a gargoyleWith gristly marble skinHaunting in the church of your lovePissing in your holy waters And laughing at your hymns.Unwrapping every sacred inchof your modest covered skins And burning the wood of the cross you carryTo set flame to y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/559399/ Meandering Through BohemiaWith a Pocket Full of StonesAnd Toasting to Your MemoryWith Some Muddy H20Your Mirage, It Calls Me HomeWith the Poison PromiseOf Some Short Lived NastalgiaAnd a Quiet Place to Rest our BonesAnd Dance in the SnowToe to Toe, Nose to NoseDropping Leaves From All Our SeasonsI S.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/541306/ I can smell the chemical spillsFrom the glittering hillsWhere the bow legged women sit bored and bonded in frillsAnd you're riding that carousel Or brushing your razor sharp teeth-the gateways protecting the treasure beneath-that sandpaper tongue that was keeping me clean-That now.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/481014/   You always talked so BIG.Your poshly potted diction planting seedsOh, the dirt your tongue could dig-That gouged the earth like feasting thieves. Your hands like branches, always spread.But I was  grasping at your roots.Your spout was out in other gardens.Yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/445737/  I do the twistThe axis tiltsSomewhere out there, the wine is bleedingI hear the swishYour husky voiceA black shoe blisters a dancing footI meow, drunkenly, all nightOutside your windowWe orchestrate a symphony you'll never listen toBecause the line's are always busyAnd you'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/423975/  I wore this same shirt on the day I tried to break up with you.Sheer white cotton.Water-color flowers.All through Chemistry, All I could think about was how we had none.How my atoms repelled your protons.And we couldn't agree upon a single nucleus to orbit around. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/411761/ I met you at the Red RoomMy friends called you Nicotine.I watched your smoke rings dance around meLeft the smell on my shirt for weeks.I kissed you between dragsAlways with one foot in the grave.And the other wrapped around youIn case the cemetery caved.You sprayed my heart with your.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/383605/  The moonlight illuminates these baby doll bones.Manhattan streets, she walks alone.Glittering as he sleeps,This poetry is smoke.And he whispers, "If you have to dream,Dream of light's refracting dance.And if death is a promise,You must leap at every chance."These floo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/372560/ I could fill a textbook with your anatomywrite a sonnet with your songstype a manuscript based solely on your charmsand write your name up and down my armsso whisper your secrets in my earI couldn't care less if they are truejust as long as you will promise, DearI'll be the only one you'll whi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/372558/  There's graffiti in the streets,And death blows through the trees. A coma soon ensuesAnd the ocean's never blue.The city never sleeps because you're too busy sleeping with everyone else.Sell Your Love.Sell yourself.Los Angeles.Sell yourself cheap. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/372555/ The thought of you sleepingKeeps me up all night.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/372174/ a happy ending. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/372169/ I'm starting to feel smaller than I ever have before.Underneath your thumb. In your pocket. In yourdrawer. Something shiny you can fiddle withAnd leave lying on your floor.I'm starting to feel smaller than a flower in theearth.Something stepped on and unnoticed.Somet.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/364846/ fog creepslike Your fingertips(just an inch. just an inch)bridge this gap between Our skins(just this Once. just this Once)I'm jealous of everything You touch http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/362495/  I thought you were my fruit,But you withered on the vine.I felt the poison that you stored pollute the sweetness of the bite.And though I felt it in my veins,My hunger paralyzed my sight.And I let you rest inside me, too full of you to flee or fightThe night will come and find you,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/360274/ 12/7/08 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/350751/ Won the Emmons Poetry Contest in SB in 2009 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/294917/ Out under the stars The stars that watched us fall apart.Grass up to our knees and secrets locked down deep.They shone above our tumbling bodies,A cat's cradle of limbs and follies.And all I wanted was to hold you,But you were never mine to hold.My heart beat to a faulty rhythm.And t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/285139/ The flicker of oblivion shown uponour bodiesA cat's cradle of limbs-theanatomy of the end  And I wonder if this is how Godfeels,Unbreakable as stone, Left with our bodies and the soilAnd all the promises He broke, theVisionary Left with His masterpiece,An.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/284995/ Dedicated to a friend of mine. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/284986/  How does it feel to know your an illusion?And every smile you stretch with guile heeds to resolutions.Your serpent tongue spits distortion in a web of dismal fusion.You are nothing behind your cover up, your lace of dust, your fictitious sinking mud.This barricade you buildwith blood.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/stephaniewehe/284984/