Ill Drink Her Again in the Morning
She's my
Bourbon hiccup,
Like peace
And the cost of it.
Like getting
In trouble as a kid,
Knowing you'd take
A beating
And decided
It was worth it.
Alone with
Tear filled eyes
Rubbing a wound,
But all you think about
Is telling the story
To those that matter.
Some things
Are worth it.
I guess that's
Why is write.
New Novella
Hi everyone! I've just released my first novella. If anyone is interested, you can purchase it on Amazon. It's titled A Walk Through the Years by Eric Johnson
Again, I want to thank everyone on this website who've posted challenges, gave me feedback on my work, and followed me. Because of you, I've been able to push myself over the last couple of years.
I'm really proud of this book and I'd love to know your thoughts, if you decide to read it.
Thanks!
New Novella
Hi everyone! I've just released my first novella. If anyone is interested, you can purchase it on Amazon. It's titled A Walk Through the Years by Eric Johnson
Again, I want to thank everyone on this website who've posted challenges, gave me feedback on my work, and followed me. Because of you, I've been able to push myself over the last couple of years.
I'm really proud of this book and I'd love to know your thoughts, if you decide to read it.
Thanks!
The War We All Fight
Porcelain bodies flung against a cold, white wall.
Frail and silent voices, drowned out by the wind.
Oh Savagery, whom will you take from me today?
Hopeful voyages, onward to reclaim our humanity.
An exposed heart, still beating, feasted on by a dozen of leeches.
Oh Lust, what will you take from me today?
A room filled with eyeless faces, profiles barely human.
Apparitions of Hadean origin roaming aimlessly between dimensions.
Oh Despair, whom will you take from me today?
Valiant spirits erased with one violent strike.
Abominations hunted down and slaughtered.
Oh Hatred, what will you take from me today?
Nobody is safe.
Nobody is beautiful.
Nobody will hear.
Don't you dare run, don't you dare die. What are we supposed to do?
Who will guide us?
Who will save us?
Who will kill us?
Don't you dare speak, don't you dare fall silent. What are we supposed to do?
Schopenhauer’s blur to the unknown, the ember, and a beguiling eye.
On the show today, we open with a famed and tortured mind, from a certain point of view, and into the depths of two writers here that have written pieces to reach down into our cores and feel the colors of their minds. To quote the character of Doc Holliday in the best western made, from 1993, "That's just my game."
Here's the link to the Prose. Radio feature, and we'll post the writers and pieces in the comments below.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VwwVVRR1T4Q&t=1s
And.
As always...
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team.
Henry Miller’s interest, one true north, and a leaf in autumn.
On the show today, Miller leads into a poem by Mariah, a short and heart-soaked piece to arrive on shore when it must, and then into a short story by a fellow named Frank Gainey, whose words flavored the coffee beneath the mic, and set Saturday for an open eye and a casual shot of bourbon.
Here's the link to the writers being narrated on Prose. Radio:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0S3Ct8RNbs
And we'll link the authors below, along with their pieces.
And.
As always.
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
Three Captures of the Dispossessed
Three more records of the trapped and true, from three more books outlawed, from three more writers on the site who brought the work back: Strongly.
We can't get enough of this Challenge.
We'll link the pieces and profiles below in the comments.
Here's the Challenge link:
https://www.theprose.com/challenge/14416
And here's the newest feature on the channel:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAa63kwkPY4
And.
As always.
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
Rejected by Death.
Once this was read, it had to be featured. From the same Prose. Challenge in the last video, comes this one, a day after the video was produced and published, but, like the YouTube description says, "High art prevails." Thank you, 7v7.
We'll put the profile link and the link to the piece in the comments below, so you can read what 7v7 did to continue a book from one of the greatest writers in history, just like the others in the feature. Before the channel link, here's the link to the Prose. Challenge. https://www.theprose.com/challenge/14416
Side note to LARGE, who also wrote a great piece for it: Narration was considered, but our narrator couldn't quite land on one of the voices in a way it deserved. That said, it is a beautiful piece of innovation.
Here's the feature on Obitus of a Suicide, with the feature titled for the last line of the story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4CQ7OXsvGw
And.
As always...
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
self fulfilling desire
I wanted him to run, so
I could chase him away
Far from any union, or life
Together, we could never be
In love, true and tangible
A thing I could hold onto, still
Unstable enough, temporary
The warmest parts of fall, cold
Winter death knock knocking
Then I remember, this time
Now and forever, attentive to
His touch in December, love—
A fire burning beautiful, as it dies.
Cabernet
Look at me.
Your voice is gagged
Soul suffocating
Get close
Closer, shhhh
Smell my skin
Sweetness
Salt shimmering
My lips
Closer
Thirst heart
Apple red
Sweet honey
Do you desire me?
Make my pouty bottom lip bleed
My neck
Watch my jugular pulse
Run your finger along its purple road
Did you know you had such control over my life?
Life.
Put your mouth on my bare womb
Taste it
Run your tongue ever so slightly upward
Over my belly
Taste the sweat between my breasts.