http://slow.writerscafe.org/moxleyworks The original writings of author Sean en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776042396 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Things are heating up on my beach house bed,she wants to leave me in a blanket and put me in a basket http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/452615/ On empty shores,with footprints set deep in foaming sand,I balanced my weight between rushing sea and solid land,Until the bitter taste of day gave way to the sweet of dream,as if floating out of fiery chains into the gentle arms of sleep. Through the night I slept in br.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/445631/ something something, blah blah. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/444074/ The people walk on by my red brick steps while laughter rises from the bottom of the hillsome are serious and run upon the streetwalk because I'm folding like a cardboard pyramidand I could be the cornerstone see, my head is swimmingi can't even seeoooh, lord, lord lord l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/368594/ Sitting here behind the curtainI can hear you speak my thoughtshypnotist sitting, staging:what I think is what you've been sayingThere's more to this....There's more to this.... I'm pouring out my sensesWhat is and what will bepounding my head against the wallDoes .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/368582/ hayoyaoa http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/368542/ I don't really want to f**k you,all my friends say you've got the herpsmaybe they're just jealousor they're no good s***sand I have to admit, you've got ginormous tits.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/365772/ Cool light suffused the room through a blue stained-glass Jew, affixed atop a cross behind the youthful class.Instructor's hot forehead rained daily from his halo, which came in early morning and disappeared at dusk- like the rod held tightly in his hands."If you search", he started ho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/362258/ write about jessica and what's happened in the last three-four weeks. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/360765/ don't give metoo many hintsi know what you need "lets take a bathand make some bubbles"she walks through the dark hall movie credits rollstanding up to look outtracing the way to the room   http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/349686/ The kids are asleep now and there are pajamas and blankets in bundles on the beds. Sleeping and resting and waiting for tommorrow because tommorrow is a new day and the sun comes up soon and when the sun comes up theres lots of things to do. They're happy when they wake up because they don't kn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/349646/ light the fire, like the fire, eat the fire to taste the fire, good all the way down, http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/348901/ Its a kind of a love poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/348114/ A story-poem for a little girl who inspired me without trying too hard. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/348023/ LA LA LA LALA. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/347455/ Cold face, numb fingers hug-sticky wet gloves.Rustling leaves on forest floor scored away in sluggish lines.Orange, red, brown tiles to run through, move and break. On black Earth: Like hairs sway, breaks, falls, rots- delineations.Worms crawl through open graves while the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/347011/ With incandescent speckles burning through ebony skies,a golden scythe cuts through the night at the turning of the tide.      Flickering with memories as a candle from afar like a wave that catches for a moment the reflection of a summer star. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/345141/ don't ask. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/341188/ what ya m ean? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/341066/          From the veranda was a peaceful view of a large yard covered in ankle-high grass and enclosed by a high wooden fence. At the far end of the yard was a large walnut and iron gate and beyond that was the compost pile. Oak trees lined the fence and in .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/338734/ Incomplete. draft. weird http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/337363/ I could yell every night at the man in the skyfor ruining the surprise from the startthe patrons plead to die while clawing at their eyesthey'd be jealous if they knew that god likes suicide toobut the world keeps spinning on a shoelace stringand I'm barely hanging on to gloves and sleev.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/296768/ "Art is dead", thus spake Cyro Dee the prophet. He rode down on an elevator,with ironed white shirt and graying hair,and found, to his dismay, that art had disappeared.  The people all seemed, even while walking,to be talking to themselves, by themselves.Bl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/250350/  Six kids with fresh military tattoos toss around a football by the shoreline in the sand.They yell, run, and make a splash, followed by a thud – a tackle in shallow water.I lay on a big blue blanket, the sun burns my back, and white sand blows in my face.Her long dark hair is lib.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/248629/ yes....description... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/248154/ Last minute reversal. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/247777/ A thing which doesn't recognize its image in a mirror. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/245692/ Who said, "The best days are the lonely days"? I did! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/244712/ I woke up on the beach after a night of carousing and wrote this after escaping the sun's relentless morning assault on my eyes and burned face. Could be considered a rough sketch that I never went any further with. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/moxleyworks/244453/