http://slow.writerscafe.org/PaulVelora The original writings of author Paul Velora en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776071537 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 There are timesWhen art doesn't move meIt hasn't happenedYet, I imagine it could http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/2897103/ Hello, sister, I hope you're wellIt's been 25 years and to no availI've tried crying, and begging, and hurting like hellAnd you're still gone, you left, you fellI was 9 when you got here, 10 when you leftYou nearly died in the basement, left us bereftThen the hospital, the life flight,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/2817011/ Just kind of an exercise I kept wanting to try out. It's not very good, but that's alright. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/2767785/ Fantasy short story about a place called The Vale, a valley with mountains to the north, swamps and plains to the west, a violent forest and a murderous port city to the south, and the Eastern Sea. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/2487931/ Time seemed full of changeHe stepped back unwittinglyThen it seemed a wheelTurning endlesslyThe leaves of autumnThe colors enormousAre the same as last yearWelcome and gloriousThe hopes and dreamsOf people you knowAre the same as thoseWho stood hundreds of years agoA wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/2123937/ Everywhere I've gone, you've gone with me.Everything I've seen, you've seen with me.Nestled, curled up in my heartBeloved, adored, held closely.All the hurt I've felt, you felt it too.All the loss I've felt, was your loss too.We hold those memories tightlyAgainst our chest--they ache.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/2100897/ The night's as reticent as I feelHanging back, aloofThe moon's mostly closed, red eyeSeems sick of watching usWasteful, ungrateful, boring you and I.I would not have movedI would not have breathedOr been able to lift a footBut you held us upThe night can keep its secretsHangi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/2053183/ Morich made it to Hilt by mid-afternoon. The most prominent thing about the town was a large rectangular temple. It looked like it was a temple to Elorian, but Morich couldn't be sure. He watched it as he walked past. The four corners were smaller towers, with two larger towers in between on either .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/819068/ Real short fantasy story. I have exorcised the demons. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/661922/ Irishlock in time you forgottomake for the oceantomake yourself for the seaAlong boat's awaitingLikethe movement of the leavesWaitingsurely and softlyIlay restless here upon the sea.Thistledown on the windYou watch the night with calmWaiting on the breeze to f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/654317/ Young, beautiful, ponytail, youA strand of hair falling across your faceWhen you were acting sillyYou'd puff great gouts of air at itIt would fall back across your eyesAnd, cross-eyed, you'd accuse it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/639689/ My own personal opinion. Just read a list like this and disagreed, heartily. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/633817/ I won't say a wordWhen you leaveWhen you don't say anythingI won't say that I still love youOr that I think about you stillNor a combination of the twoI won't betray with my eyesNor hold my breathOr breathe at allI won't think of the timeYou wound yourself around meOr how my soul meltedThere won't b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/629860/ AFist-full of Fantasy George Raymond Richard Martin weaves a compelling novel of epicproportions in A Game of Thrones,a true giant of fantasy who unfortunately still falls under theshadow of the even greater Robert Jordan. On the back of Martin'snovel you read a quote from Robert Jor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/624625/ Do we need those who have gone because they have gone? The summation of their life has been capped, and we can only stand in wonderment at what could have been. To never grow old, never have a picture of them with slacks hiked up and eyes squinty. I feel like to appreciate it, or even to try and und.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/620450/ Wait for the moment, wait somewhere free.Up in the mountains, perhaps out at sea.Sit on your street curb and count cars for an hour.How many were there? That memory won't sour.But the hours keep on passingAnd you've things to seeThe world isn't waitingSo why are we? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/618572/ 'A Prayer for Owen Meany' is one hell of a story. Life is better when viewed from atop a motorcycle. Alcohol is overrated, so are cigarettes, sex probably isn't. Punk won't die, emo will probably commit suicide. Nothing stays golden, the sun isn't always out. 90% of people probably can't articulate .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/618565/ While she slept in the depthsWe all slept amongst the starsComets were coming,We were waiting for ours.Distantly we saw the curveOf the lighted, smoking, trailQuietly, she kept sleepingUnder that cold lit veil.Awake! the sea cried to herCan you not see all that's above?The comets they're coming,Yet .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/614888/ Why do I wait upon the hour?Watching midnight drag it's sullen feet,Along the corridor of the evening,Like a downtrodden boy walking to his doom.What does the next day hold,That today did not? You stillWon't be here tomorrow, or the next beside.I blame the ache in my heart on youI can feel you nestl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/614883/ She sits on the shoreline and stares out at the seaA lonely romantic who's waiting for meShe's brighter than the moon there in the nightAmong the dark blue coating she's orange lightThe ocean is pleasant and lonelyHer tune is rustic and groaningLike a madrigal cat all importantMaking its way to the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/614878/ My ache is your achein an ancient tomb where we layand your heart beats bloodthrough my veins of dustremnants crackWhere is your suitor dearest mistresswhere are you gardens of splendorwhat became of your loveit lays where we layUntouched in the sunlightunloved in the clay.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/614877/ I sit by this field so clutched by changeGreen in the summer wet in the rainBrown and dry and barren and whiteIn the deepening suns unbroken arrayI sit pleasantly with joy-induced griefThough pastel colors adorn each leafThis wooden bench basking in sunsetOrange cuts blue as winter's corsetAnd in th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/PaulVelora/614876/