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stephentotheplate

Where poetry and stories collide.

Tag

creative writing

Since We Last Spoke (journal)

I started my blog during one of lowest moments of my life thus far. I've used this blog to catalog my hopes, dreams, fears, failures, all of it. Looking back over my pieces is like looking at a snapshot of... Continue Reading →

Cliche (prose)

I woke up today and realized. I feel exactly like they said I would. I think I should feel differently than I do. I figured I'd be farther along than I am. I thought I'd feel more....settled. They were all... Continue Reading →

I could summon the hordes with a snap of my fingers, My feet, Rooted, planted to the ground I am connect. I could create floods, Hurled bolts of lightening across a placid sky. But I can't recreate the feeling of... Continue Reading →

Feelings (Microfiction)

This imagine invokes feelings. What exactly I feel, I'm not sure. I just know I like the opaqueness of the sky. The foggy-mistiness of the foreground. This imagine invokes feelings. Not quite sure what they are but, I like them.... Continue Reading →

A List (poem)

The half-written poem. The half read book. The song left on pause. The bed rumpled on one side. The violin lessons started. The fall recital held but never the spring. A list of things begun and left undone. A list... Continue Reading →

Pen to Paper (Microfiction)

She sat at her father's desk and stared at the keyboard. It had been so long. So long since she put her thoughts out, into the world. So long since she's shared her pain and her fears. So she wrote.... Continue Reading →

Strut (Prose)

She walked from her daily bus to her home. Her walk, as usual uneventful. But as she walked she watched her shadow. The shadow bounced. It's footsteps were rhythmic and lively. Who was this woman? The woman with the confident... Continue Reading →

5 Stars (Microfiction)

Lyft driver picked me up on Wisconsin Avenue and made some small talk before falling silent. While I broke down in the backseat crying, she looked in the mirror with a knowing smile, and handed me a tissue. We continued... Continue Reading →

the warm summer's sun has begun to cool. soon foliage will turn from richest forest green, to bright shades of burnt orange, honeyed shades of amber. i mourn the soon coming cold, but take solace in the thought of fireplaces... Continue Reading →

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