http://slow.writerscafe.org/entrelesnuages The original writings of author Entrelesnuages en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776194362 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Spoken Word http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/1204306/ These names that They call usThey[‘re] used to appall usRepel us, tell usThey know who We areBrand us, leave us with nothing but scarsDismiss us, they’ll claim to miss us when we’re gone They justify thoughts with wha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/1099217/ Ameliadoesn’t write herwords down but there are still stories at her fingertips. The words that emergefrom between her lips are bland.  StaleSaltine crackers.  Plain cottage cheese.  If you close your eyes it’s just another teenager .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/1099214/ So it seems I’ve gone and grown upin spite of myself.  It seems wrong to becynical at 17.  17 is an almost age.  Almost old enough to vote.  Almost old enough to drive peoplearound.  Almost an ad.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/1099211/ The next morning I go through his drawers finally pulling out a striped linen shirt over my head.  "Good morning" says my companion, already dressed, returning from the hall with two fragrant cups of chai.  We'd decided it was inadvisable for me to continue to room with the jackal.  .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/994247/ Frozen.  The moment thereafter seems static.  Infinite.  And it speeds up.  Sprinting down the corridor.  Windows whizzing by on either side of me.  My feet pounding down against the threadbare carpet.  "I can explain." he cries out after me.  Faster.  C.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/994222/ I spend the rest of the day compiling a list of passengers with the initials JL and conducting fruitless interviews.  Frustrated I returned to my cabin.  I scan the room having it to myself for the first time.  Crumpled bed sheets, several empty chai cups, and... my bag!  The ba.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/994202/ Stopped.  When I arrived at the desk to report my missing bag they informed me while would be moving soon the overall arrival time would be delayed looking stowaways and clues.  More rain droplets pound against the misty window leaving little trails of of clarity them as they trickle down.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/994174/ Henry Miller. 5'2''.  Officially dead as of 5 minutes ago.  Given the size of the wound the compartment is surprisingly clean.  The corpse was found sprawled on one of the bottom bunks with his limbs contorted at odd angles.  It would appear he had the cabin to himself and was d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/994013/ A blustery night.  Gusts of wind are blowing raindrops everywhere soaking the crowd to the bone.  I have a case of waiting for me in Lucknow and hope to arrive early Thursday morning to meet with Mr. Vanderhousen regarding the emperor's missing jewels.  The crowd has been growing imp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/993990/ This is a shortish mystery. I've never actually read Murder on the Orient Express but this from a journal I kept in India where all the entries have titles are parodies. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/993863/ I’mat war with my kitchen floorI may want it bad but I’m scared flour wants it more.I hold my ballonet broom ready to fightBut the crumbs in the corner aren’t ready to biteThe bullet just yet.They’refighters. Some are .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/991286/ Our tolerance for pain, and for hate.until someone cracks it’s all great.Maybe our sensitivity's gotten too big.We’re all f**s or w****s or chauvinist pigs.But I think we're talking a little too fast no more filter. Our bra.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/981668/ So my friend encouraged me to try gore. This is borderline graphic and not for the faint of heart. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/962679/ The demons of your mind are never hard to findclose your eyes to go to sleep it is then that they will creepout of your head to cover your eyelids insteadnightmare visions: the rotting flesh of your love long deadthe maggots crawling out of your brain will try their best to drive you insanea fa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/962671/ So this is somewhere in between rap and spoken word. I'm marking it as mature because of the language but it isn't sexually explicit. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/962664/ so this is kind of a rap. I'm marking it as mature because there's some swearing but it's not sexually explicit. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/962661/ my reflexion on winter formal http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/874006/ A lost dreamsplit at the seamsreminds her of things that could have beenIf only she had been a little moreCleverPerhaps they could have survived the stormy weatherIf onlyshe had a little moreheartmaybe then they wouldn't have grown apartIf onlyShe had been a little morebravemaybe then it could .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/839188/ a hint of memorya wisp of a dreama simple of suggestionof what might have beena glimmer of hopea single floating feathersitting softly on the surfaceof things yet to be weathered A dandelion carryingthrough the windan unspoken wishfraying but unthinnedthe unsung songof a story never toldolder t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/837025/ an internal dialogue http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/836825/ AsparklyshimmerA glowThen A glimmerMy wish is to bethinnerFunny how holidaycheerOnly makes us reachfor more beerWhen faced withbright lights, giftsOur downward spiralbecomes so swiftThe cheeriness of howwe ought to beThe intimidatin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/835438/ Kind of borderline as far as poetry goes but I'm quite sure what to call it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/833301/ BreakingDishes            Yousay once they die you’re breaking all the dishes.  The delicate blue castles on heirloom platespassed down to your mother. Treasured.  Hand washed.  Tiny crosshatched detail .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/833300/ Diadems:Dollinger sat in the dingy back room of an even gloomierfront.  He was lounging on a deterioratingcouch the flickering virescent light making his remaining teeth look evenyellower and the scar extending from the corner of his eyebrow to the tip ofhis unsettling grin seem e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/833189/ In the dingy unworld of London Dollinger is seeking the answers from the diadems, moody smoke spirits. But in this shady world Dolllinger is not the only one with questions Kat is equally determined http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/833188/ Thanksgiving is by far the biggestholiday in my family. I have a big family made up of lots of very … uniquepeople.  Thanksgiving ideal in every wayfor us:  it’s after the elections areover.  It is not associated with anyparticular religion.  And most of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/833182/ Autumn’s leavesAnother orange leaf drifts slowly to theground joining the limitless carpet covering the thick underbrush. Then, anotherone, with a deep red tint this time. Miriam closes her book takes a step towards the leaf. The older driedout leaves crackle under her fee.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/833178/ the first moment alone with lonelinessIs always hard to bear drown it out withBlinding soundScream and pull your hairTry just to bidetimeTry Appease yourmindbut you cannot help but findthe darkness lying withinRUNHIDESCREAMbut still findNo .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/entrelesnuages/833174/