http://slow.writerscafe.org/wrests The original writings of author J.E. Stroud en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775995711 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I desire mostly nature's absorption:making trails for children's enjoyment,or sculpting prints with sprightly hoovesrather than my cursed process.Eyes stuck doe, swelling springswith not even one to drink from-not even a tree to nap under. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/1337830/ Comforting they say “You  Are supposed to be here”The message implanting faster than jerky trips of an eyeWe’ve found magic in the solitudinous companyRoadtrips set in the ticks of our shortest hourSuburbs of the divineDisguised as a pit stop, la.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/1156056/  I stretched in a cenotaph unburdened by your bones,fashioning a nest of a coffin that I could lie in at night.It is too dark to be wondering why.  There are countless ways your name is now etched in gold,permanence on skin and holes in flesh that can only mimic what you left.They are tat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/1153313/  You tell me that you’re the most depressed person in the entire worldbut I know that that person just left us, and, statistically speaking, in 40 seconds his successor will leave us, too-will leave us wondering- is rope an object, or an idea?Some people know how and when to save others... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/1153310/ For a competition http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/1060494/    Being raised by a single father was an intensely difficult experience for me.  It was certainly hard to go without knowing what all the other little girls knew, but even harder than not knowing which shoes matched which dress, was the fact that the woman who was almost contractuall.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/1048719/ I laughed. Thekind of laugh that comes out so far and fast that you wish you could run andcatch it, stuffing it in your mouth before settling on a quiet regret, insteadof what you’ve done-instead of a laugh that carried in it the wreckage of ahuman being, whose childish body was no mor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/970788/ She was beautiful and everyone loved her and she chewed fruity gum that made her breath smell sweet as she laughed in the faces of the boys that wanted her. But one day someone told her that she was ugly and she would never forget that. So she starved herself to be beautiful and she st.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/472450/ You will die as you sleep, as you live. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/459053/ Whip=wip=work in progress. It's not about anyone in particular-don't flatter yourself. Any of you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/448310/ More like antipoetry, but whatever http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/433336/  It was a fragile girl, that had been tossed unthinkingly into this desert. She had a tiny, breakable figure that stepped lightly around scrubgrass and dead tires, into trailer homes, that ran excitedly towards assorted desert creatures- the liveliest things on the reservation.&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/421989/ Love poem attempt 3,395 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/385647/ A short story about a ballet dancer http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/368071/ Story about a rough, janitor of sorts in Dallas...and Sunshine Cleaning effectively ruined this premise. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/360161/ Somewhat old, but I like it all the same. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/358107/ Lips and a******s http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/357969/ Written a couple of months ago http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/357963/ Written quickly for a writing contest, then edited. The 'theme' was darkness. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/357605/ She stood, stiffly, a monument to strained poise, staring wonderingly at the skyscraper- the monster of steel and glass that would soon consume her. She took a step forward, unconsciously grinding her shoe against the sidewalk with which she would soon be pressed against as though it were a lover th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wrests/356254/