http://slow.writerscafe.org/tsclaus The original writings of author T.S. Claus en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775978393 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 An older article for a satire newspaper, The Midwest Times. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/2024028/ Short and sweet http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/2011629/ Eh, nothing special really. If this is your first reading of mine, I encourage you to check out my other, much better, writing. Thanks! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/2011618/ My poems must be lies since I wrote things I no longer feelI cannot bring love into my heart Since the drugs keep checking up on me They are their own b***h of a nurseAdministering themselves through my hand;I am running from the misery at my heelsI am convinced it should give up on me.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/2002249/ A retired teacher finds herself the recipient of a new-to-town, young man. A much younger man... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/2000774/ From the perspective of a young, comatose sister. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/2000755/ I feel the whole-less, Physical absencesWhen writing sentencesFrom the disgusting thing that bred meThe schizophrenicI am like a noxious gas Attracting disease and famineIt comes from miles awaySomedays I feel okay...I want to be wild I want to change againMost days I know I'll kill myself  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1926349/ The intro to a story of coming home, and the mental roadblocks war lays for those lucky enough to have returned. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1879573/ You are handsome when the bowl falls cleanIt busts into a thousand piecesDid you mean it when you said, "I'm done?"You were twice the man that day I have wanted to be yours Between a string of your blue moon binges Many nights coming second to the methI wish I could be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1867794/ A quick pickup fix in a cupboard downstairsWe're not even sureWe're not even sureGrowing Red anticipation faceNothing left to bush-scalpAnd calm the missing you side of eyeDo not tell me it is nothing leftCrazy in this yellow-room through all hourWait, wait, waitThree hours I've waitedFor a quick pi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1781217/ The orphan became a mother in a lonely carOn the side of dirt roads she conceived two baggageThat she tugged behind her a*sThe straining weight of what she didn't useAnd she never almost left them at the airportThe orphan used the word LoveMotherhood had made false smiles she shoneWh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1773591/ “When the fighting started and the blasts reached the center of town we were among the last to leave. We were a group, maybe twelve of us.”“Whisch way did’a go?” Possam blew his nose.“The last of us, we fled the capitol building before it was demolished.” Th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1763070/ “If you’re smart you’ll answer the questions Possam asks you.” Henry Board opened and closed the empty bygone cabinet space of the detention facility visitation room.“If I tell Possam how I know, or since when I’ve known Coppers, everything will fall apart.”.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1753852/ “Forty years ago there was no wall. The people passed freely.” Sarahe spoke to thousands now. She once was lucky to find even five passionates to speak with. “Those inside, the people of the so called “Villa”, they are the ones!” The crowd screamed in agreeance. E.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1753730/ “In case you were confused- did you want to...think about it for a moment?”“No.” “Mr. Loft,” The fat Mr. Possam rose with little struggle despite his large body. “Can you tell’a ‘bout the key you received?”“What do you want to know?&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1753685/ “One of these days you’re going to need me,” The boy said, taking a drag from the joint. “Guarantee it.”His friend, of smaller stature and size, smirked and huffed a sort of laugh. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Pass me that would you? It’s not a microp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1753684/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1753683/ To hate yourself more and more through the eye of your motherTold to shackle up in a keep-quiet dungeon,He has made it hers with the plants and trinketsDo you love her?He listens to her house at dinner like insects coming through the cracksIn the morning there is a rash,So he must love himself Try a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1753294/ Twelve monthsA whole lifetimeOne single year became of meLook how much I grewNever knowing youThe ticking, the tockingThree hundred Sixty Five rocks in your chairQuick night story told once and tucked me inHow many days in one year?One year ago or two, or threeSome rational thinkingIt told me to hol.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1753117/ Sometimes we find ourselves dwelling in the past. We cannot let go of things that make or made us angry, sad, or in love, but sometimes these old emotions create new insights & change the way we feel. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1743824/ As weather turned for betterBright hues of Sunny bluesReminding us of Summer months priorBut just three nights that Winter it snowedJanuary weather never showedWe all sat and we playedHeads turned away that dayThen blew the stormI heard the heavy blanket stitched from iceOutsid.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1647043/ I look into the streamWatching fragments of somethingsA leaf, a twig, drifting byI see them come, I see them goFrom where did they derive? Slivers of a larger thing and a journey to where?Some may reach Lake MichiganSome may reach the oceanJourneys like the ones I seeBrief.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1647040/ Something I wrote when we lost an amazing friend and guy. Something I wrote when I lost my best friend. Something I wrote when I lost the one I knew I loved. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1647034/ High and slumped in his chair near the fire, Jonathan tried his attention at the drugstore novel. He couldn’t often read, for it reminded him of his Elizabeth. No matter the relevance to his departed lover the book offered, every passage circled her through his mind. It drove him mad and miser.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1627965/ Hands upon you that I know like my own pairThey are soft and warmLarge; always gentle, open, and availableWith them you warm my assumptively frost bitten skinRubbing and kneading my tired, tense, bodyFiery crime and arson's temperatureHot, hot, Hellworthy scorchExtinguished by pales of cool waterCon.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1623071/ I am an astronaut; foreign and intolerableOstracized but not forgotten is my memory,Inside minds of those I once befriended Not forgotten, only much ignoredI am not called, I do not go to the beachUnable to relate among the souls is mineThe indifference's of others beneath my freckle-fleshSlice.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1622973/ The Bum has no shameNor the evening to careNo family, nor friendsHis feet dirty and bareA chewed up burgerMelted slush in Styrofoam Beneath the sweltering SunAnts beside the fireA busy city streetAnd a dumpsterLooking for a place to eatPeople dressed to meet the QueenIf no one knows your nameYo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1622964/ Your Earthly luggage shackling  We are snared in sadness hereWith bed linens tucked and draperies draped I have rubbernecked in waiting through the windowWandering evermore for that hint of youTill nonentity surmount to entityThere is nothing to conjure I need your love in the messDes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1545208/ A widow and her son live in and operate the Funeral Home left to them by her late husband... She'll do whatever it takes to keep his only memory alive, but business isn't doing so well... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1543404/ Eddy is haunted by Olga's words and visions of the Corpse on the Crucifix. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1543402/ Eddy Cronkite just wants to take some time off from being the successful writer he is, but something at 1401 Quaker Road won't let him. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1543392/ Sources confirm that the flesh eating zombie that dazzled commuters along a Westbound lane in a fabulous purple and black striped legging outfit, complete with nine inch bamboo pumps and a matching clutch bag, while soliciting the busy intersection, was in fact '...just a really drunk transvestite'... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1543346/ Stay with me for all the crazy thingsI put you through the miseryA sick heart and NyQuilSee me in it; what I'll do that hurts youNothing's gonna make sense then'Neath comforters and sheetsI do things often out of loveWill you see me looking over?I know who you are when no one else doesDays we hadn't.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1543342/ A true crime novelist discovers the deeper truth behind a bizarre murder case when his curious nature brings him face to face with the black world of Jikininki. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tsclaus/1418477/