http://slow.writerscafe.org/thefifthsimile The original writings of author TheFifthSimile en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775429907 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The vacancy within me contractsin fruitless imitation of accomplishment,as the earth turns redfrom the blood that precipitatesand scorches hope, banishing the smallest glintof promise, and this acrid blood, drop by drop, erodes the future. The women who live in t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/740829/ It was only pranksfor the first few years--forkingyour yard, gluingyour mailbox closed.Little gloriesto alleviate the aggressionthat itched my headlike witchgrass.And then the fantasies flooded my subconscious,never the same but always ending the same:Blood spurting from your heartacross the mustard.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719400/ after watching my niece being born, October 2010 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719370/ My friend went to Scotland, leaving behind her boyfriend, ironically named Scotty. She began an affair, and thus inspired me to write this parody, which I sang to her via Skype as her birthday gift. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719355/ After my friend returned from studying abroad, she missed the Australian boy she met overseas, and she asked me to write a quick poem, on facebook, that expressed her feelings for him. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719344/ it strikes me how lonely he must have beento spend the money to drive all the way here.for the price of gas he could have bought a woman off the streets in his city,some girl who just needs twenty to eat.we sat quietly for a while, until finallyI asked why he was waiting, a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719341/ 4 a.m. finds me exhausted but too alive tosleep.the boy just left my room.the pictures of my childhood are wide-eyed;our mother’s portrait glares accusingly.the night i lost my virginity, i rememberher calling me and her voice breakingand I thought oh, God, she know.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719336/ Because I forgave you for raping me--Because I forgavethe metallic taste of your belt buckleagainst my lips,the degradation of new leathercircumnavigating my head,the pull of the belt's tailcalling me back to you in the storm--Because I forgave the fury of your bodyafter it incessantly split me,stro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719309/ Her lungs,birds around her heart,stopped fluttering their weak wingsbeneath the morphine and the steady hum of the electric blanket.Her body stoppedas fourteen of her childrenpoured prayers and tears on the frail,folded fabric that was her skin,already turning cold.I waited in the room across the ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719305/ an ekphrastic poem, inspired by Edgar Degas' painting, The Star http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719294/ A Harry Potter poem, based largely on events described by Voldemort's memories in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Told from the perspective of the Potters' cat. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719271/ You’re ten and Lucas Garcia holdsyour wrists against the RC machinein the corner.The vending area is encasedby a wire cageand you watch that patternuntil it stains your pupils.His hand grabs your pitiful breastsand he kisses youwith the anger ofthe ent.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719264/ “I think it is highlyethical.After all, what my wifewantsmost of all is me,and the [robot]is me to the hairiestdetail.I’ve been home allevening.I shall be home withherfor the next month.In the meantime,another gentleman willbe in Rio... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/719258/ A screenplay that was never meant to be taken seriously. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718670/ Personal Narrative assignment in a class -- choose one of your body parts and write about it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718664/ The last time I watched a sunset with someone. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718662/ we were told to find our spirit animals, and then to inhabit them. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718661/ My father,a confident man,a rusty-nail-in-my-shoulder-but-you-don't-see-me-complainingmansaw a poemwith legs long as the skyand timid eyeswhen he was fifteen.He was doing odd jobs for the school that summer,and she was registering for classes,a new girl, a minister's daughter.He paused, his paintbru.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718660/ This little girl eats with unchained vigor.The chicken nuggets love her,and she loves them, too.I can't remember the last time I ate chicken nuggets,or French fries,mint chocolate chip ice cream,lasagna.I swear, if I didn't have to worry about attracting a mate,I'd ravish those chicken nuggets.Yet a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718658/ Another NYC poem, written on the train home, inspired by the dead turtle in the book Key Grip. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718656/ Another NYC poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718653/ Obviously, another New York poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718652/ Another NYC poem, inspired by a speech I heard at a personal essay symposium. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718651/ Another of my New York City poems. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718650/ One of a series of poems I wrote during my first trip to NYC. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718649/ my attempt at structured writing... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718648/ How many more laborioushours must I waste, sweatingwith disgustas thirteen other students moanand whine, bitching to the world,scoring points bywhoring out their own melancholy? I tire of these stupid boysgetting drunk on Wednesday night,scrambling .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718647/ Can this ever just be?Can I wrench it from your bloated,sticky hands,tear it up,and sprinkle black-and-white confettion the grave you dug,eight weeks ago when I, innocently,dragged myself through the doorof your classroomand suddenly became yourProject Write.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718645/ One day,I looked up from my egoand saw the wordsas they sprang from your lips.They waltzed as your vocal chords hummed merrilyto tell your story.(Usually I don’tlisten to men,particularly those"college men who think they canwrite.) But there wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718643/ A collaborative poem with T.K.S. We tried to make a poem that mentioned (some of) the lies we have told people in our lives, and how those lies affect relationships. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718642/ A found poem. Everything below, except for the phrase "her pen," came from a comment sheet from my professor, about a antagonistic protagonist I created. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718639/ Sylvia tells me you are bent-backed like Atlas.Edward says that only youhave the power to unclose me.Eireann warns me that I can’t decidehow you will go about loving me,while Emily whispersyou have a brook in your heart. I want to believe them, bu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718637/ for my sister http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718635/ A woman pauses to admire the tulips,her ancient hands stroking the velvet blossomswith nostalgia,and asks me--a pathetically harmless poet on a cobblestone street,scratching at my legal pad with desperation,craving inspiration--when they were planted.I’m sta.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thefifthsimile/718633/