Long Fictional Prose
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Short stories and chapters from books and novels
Long poems (300 words or more), most recently posted poems first.
Kinky_LOVE
XENA69KAI
XENA69KAI
Poem Published
4th Sep 2014 10:40pm
4th Sep 2014 10:40pm
R U Just a Brain in a Vat, & if so, How Does That Affect Your SEX Life?
41 reads
0 Comments
xXShatteredHeartXx
Poem Published
2nd Sep 2014 5:53pm
2nd Sep 2014 5:53pm
Another Lost Soul Chapter 3
My mom pulled up to a 2-story white house. The front of it had a wrap-around porch and a porch swing. I waited until my mom was in front of the car to get out. I really didn't want to be here. I would rather be at school than here. The door opened and a man came out. His hair was dyed black, and he was wearing a polo and khakis that were held up with a leather belt. He walked over to my mom and shook her hand then pulled her into a hug. My muscles tensed up. The thought of this guy touching my mom was enough to make me run.
"Hello Jill. I see you have found it after all. This...
"Hello Jill. I see you have found it after all. This...
34 reads
0 Comments
blocat
Poem Published
2nd Sep 2014 11:38am
2nd Sep 2014 11:38am
Bullshit Baffles Brains
Bombardier Bob Grice had been a sergeant then got himself busted (twice) down to the basic rank of gunner. His great character, initiative and natural low cunning had got him promoted again.
The big gruff Yorkshireman had grown up in a succession of orphanages and foster homes forcing him to become self reliant or, as one Sergeant Major had described him: “As sharp as a shit house rat and slicker than snot on a glass banister.”
Bob had joined the British Army in 1943 at the age of 18 and showed great promise in basic training. He had gone ashore on D day plus one with...
The big gruff Yorkshireman had grown up in a succession of orphanages and foster homes forcing him to become self reliant or, as one Sergeant Major had described him: “As sharp as a shit house rat and slicker than snot on a glass banister.”
Bob had joined the British Army in 1943 at the age of 18 and showed great promise in basic training. He had gone ashore on D day plus one with...
36 reads
2 Comments
Law_Lith_Iminika
Poem Published
29th Aug 2014 11:41pm
29th Aug 2014 11:41pm
Poem One-Hundred-Ninety-Six
At age four, I was your little playfriend;
At age four, I was the new little girl in your neighborhood;
At age four, I was the one that followed you home that day;
At age four, I was the one your mother called 'bloody adorible';
At age four, I was the one who secretly stole your favorite stuffed animal;
At age four, I returned it the very next day because I didn't want you to cry;
At age four, I remember holding you when your father was fatally wounded;
At age four, I couldn't play with you after your mother took her own life;
I was a day from five when you...
At age four, I was the new little girl in your neighborhood;
At age four, I was the one that followed you home that day;
At age four, I was the one your mother called 'bloody adorible';
At age four, I was the one who secretly stole your favorite stuffed animal;
At age four, I returned it the very next day because I didn't want you to cry;
At age four, I remember holding you when your father was fatally wounded;
At age four, I couldn't play with you after your mother took her own life;
I was a day from five when you...
39 reads
1 Comment
Poetikmind
Poem Published
24th Aug 2014 10:53pm
24th Aug 2014 10:53pm
Fantastic Lore: Is there a Wrapper in the House?
Jack the Wrapper was used to so many hands
groping him and admiring his paper art. It was
for a time a happy existence to please all with
his gifts of ‘wrap’ from his heart. But he’s had
many nightmares about the times when occasions
would cause folks to tear him apart. Holidays and
birthdays were the times when he was expected
to do his part.
He hadn’t truly cared for the constant back, and
forth of people adoring him, One minute holding
in high esteem and the next tearing him in sections
of varying...
groping him and admiring his paper art. It was
for a time a happy existence to please all with
his gifts of ‘wrap’ from his heart. But he’s had
many nightmares about the times when occasions
would cause folks to tear him apart. Holidays and
birthdays were the times when he was expected
to do his part.
He hadn’t truly cared for the constant back, and
forth of people adoring him, One minute holding
in high esteem and the next tearing him in sections
of varying...
65 reads
11 Comments
Sar_Val
Poem Published
24th Aug 2014 5:56pm
24th Aug 2014 5:56pm
things change in one second~
There had been screams for hours. It seemed to be that her pain would not end any time soon. So many months ago it was that she gave us all the wonderfully scary news that changed everyone's lives.
"Hang in there sweetie, just a little bit more" cheerful words from everyone to give her strength. I was the only one to not cheer up for her. Sitting in the corner of that white room that had more people than it could bear.
Thinking back to all the nights I held her in my arms telling her not to surrender her life,...
"Hang in there sweetie, just a little bit more" cheerful words from everyone to give her strength. I was the only one to not cheer up for her. Sitting in the corner of that white room that had more people than it could bear.
Thinking back to all the nights I held her in my arms telling her not to surrender her life,...
43 reads
0 Comments
rabbitquest
Poem Published
24th Aug 2014 5:59am
24th Aug 2014 5:59am
GOOGLE GUN
the trigger was pulled and now I'm....
...wondering about that google bullet inside
It activated Google map services
A large red light appeared
and a female robot voice spoke,
" Good afternoon, sir, would this be a robbery,
or an act of self defence against a robber?"
Well, that startled me. A while back,
I had paid a little extra for the Google bullets
...
...wondering about that google bullet inside
It activated Google map services
A large red light appeared
and a female robot voice spoke,
" Good afternoon, sir, would this be a robbery,
or an act of self defence against a robber?"
Well, that startled me. A while back,
I had paid a little extra for the Google bullets
...
55 reads
2 Comments
BoFantastic
Poem Published
23rd Aug 2014 5:01am
23rd Aug 2014 5:01am
Black Audio
Black Audio
Quizzle talk, the language of Galdor, my raven friend is how I'm getting rich.
I make mad brain beats and instrumentals to his eerie haunting vocals serenading
the subconscious of my unsuspecting listeners who peruse my free music web page
and foolishly download and listen to my subliminal commands, generously augmenting
my Paypal account through exotically coerced donations. If you dancing to my
shit, you paying me for it. Right Galdor? Quizzle talking genius!
I don't feed the raven. Nature dictates the creature gather his own ...
Quizzle talk, the language of Galdor, my raven friend is how I'm getting rich.
I make mad brain beats and instrumentals to his eerie haunting vocals serenading
the subconscious of my unsuspecting listeners who peruse my free music web page
and foolishly download and listen to my subliminal commands, generously augmenting
my Paypal account through exotically coerced donations. If you dancing to my
shit, you paying me for it. Right Galdor? Quizzle talking genius!
I don't feed the raven. Nature dictates the creature gather his own ...
57 reads
4 Comments
cmspitz
Spitz
Spitz
Poem Published
21st Aug 2014 3:43am
21st Aug 2014 3:43am
A Tragic Comedy
Creak
Light
Pain
Creak
Dark
Footsteps
Weight added
Creak
Drifting
Light
Roused
Creak
Pain
Dazed
Stumbling
Searching
Dressing
Packing
"Where are you going?"
"We are leaving."
"Why?"
"Hell is about to break lose."
"Are you crazy?"
"You know the answer."
"Why do I have to go too?"
"I would get lonely."
...
Light
Pain
Creak
Dark
Footsteps
Weight added
Creak
Drifting
Light
Roused
Creak
Pain
Dazed
Stumbling
Searching
Dressing
Packing
"Where are you going?"
"We are leaving."
"Why?"
"Hell is about to break lose."
"Are you crazy?"
"You know the answer."
"Why do I have to go too?"
"I would get lonely."
...
58 reads
2 Comments
RedeemingMisfit
Poem Published
20th Aug 2014 5:40pm
20th Aug 2014 5:40pm
Stranger!
She sits alone. No one approaches her, they watch with cautious interest but they don't make a move towards her. Her hair cascades dark down her back, her make up is black and makes her green eyes shine through more clear then any surface. Water in her eyes run slowly down her cheeks pulling her make up with it smearing a cloudy line down her porcelain face. No one sees her tears though they are hidden by her hair by her pride by her lies of 'I'm Okay'. The sleeves of her hoodie are down her arm the cuff held at her knuckles. Pain Sears she knows what it is from. If only someone else did....
56 reads
0 Comments
ScottSF21
Poem Published
18th Aug 2014 6:39pm
18th Aug 2014 6:39pm
5pm, on the bus.
He’s coming back, The driver’s coming back” a voice said.
“The driver had just gone to help someone who broke down, their car stopped right in front of us it would seem “ ,another voice explained.
Our driver is boarding back onto the bus but fear is hitting us as another man is joining him. The man is holding a knife to our driver’s back. WE’RE BEING HELD AT KNIFEPOINT! WE’RE BEING HIJACKED! The man is standing stiff as a corpse ,his red painted face bent out of shape by his crooked smile. Dread is starting to seep into our bones like a cold fog.
Three...
“The driver had just gone to help someone who broke down, their car stopped right in front of us it would seem “ ,another voice explained.
Our driver is boarding back onto the bus but fear is hitting us as another man is joining him. The man is holding a knife to our driver’s back. WE’RE BEING HELD AT KNIFEPOINT! WE’RE BEING HIJACKED! The man is standing stiff as a corpse ,his red painted face bent out of shape by his crooked smile. Dread is starting to seep into our bones like a cold fog.
Three...
33 reads
2 Comments
HowlingHeart
Poem Published
18th Aug 2014 7:12am
18th Aug 2014 7:12am
just something i wrote for a compatition tell me what you think
56 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Long Fictional Prose: Short Stories and Chapters from Books and Novels