Hazy Shade of Winter, Less Than Zero, pills, sheet walls, redaction, and deciding to live.
From a hit by The Bangles, to the bloody and '80s adulating reach of American Psycho, episode number 38 starts and ends with more bangs than a West Texas brothel in the 1800s. Seven writers from the site complete the landscape here, with a lead by area_man, and wrapped nicely with thePearl and Mariah, so you know the new blood between them holds its mud.
Here's the link to the show.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLsEjqj8g6s
And here are the pieces featured on Prose. Radio.
https://www.theprose.com/post/816235/when-the-zoloft-hits https://www.theprose.com/post/816024/searching https://www.theprose.com/post/816017/they-call-her-fickle
https://www.theprose.com/post/816230/the-day-i-decided-to-live https://www.theprose.com/post/816225/if https://www.theprose.com/post/816122/i-redact-my-forgiveness
https://www.theprose.com/post/816108/perceived
And.
As always.
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
Long After
In the heat of the night,
Long after our passion is stilled
And the after glow of your touch
Engulfs me…
I drown in my love for you.
In the quiet of two heartbeats,
Long after the ecstasy has faded
And the softness of your being
Consumes me…
I sing to the music of you.
In the long shadows of first light,
Long after Morpheus has claimed us,
The fantasy within you…
Sustains me.
I fall within the well of you.
In the still of the long night,
Long after our first kiss
And an eternity before our last embrace,
You have seduced me.
I have found my truth in you.
In all the moments that partake life,
Even long after my final sleep,
Whatever words may be said of me,
My legacy will always be…
I have found my love in you.
The Long and Winding Road
The long and winding road,
Leading me passed my yesterdays
And into my tomorrows.
The road pass my old tears,
My days full of abuse and feel.
I sit here,
Watching the sun going down…
And watching the shadows
Engulf my past.
I await the dawn,
Where promise and hope
Wait to be born.
The long and winding road,
Is full of moments caught
In the snare of time…
The births of my children,
Christmases long gone..,
The emptiness of life
Without you.
The long and winding road…
Has been leading me here…
To find myself in your arms,
To share our dreams on our own.
It has brought me to a new dawn…
Where your golden hair flows,
Dancing across my soul.
It has brought me here…
Where your touch
Stirs not only the man
But also the soul.
Where you not only inspire me…
But lead me to the moments….
That will remain ours alone.
The long and winding road…
Has taken me beyond the shadows
Of my yesterdays..,
And into the light that is tomorrow…
Where you await me
When comes the dawn.
Melancholic Musings
Sometimes it feels like I'm inside a small glass dome at the bottom of a deep, dark ocean. I see the cracks gathering in the glass and I know that eventually I'm either going to drown, alone and helpless under the weight of it all or I will struggle and struggle until I breach the surface only to find no land in sight.
Sometimes I feel that spiteful, stubborn spark within me yelling at me, spurring me to just keep moving. But sometimes that darkness leaks into the dome and I'm surrounded by a miasma of all of that pain and self loathing, and it gets so much harder to kindle that spark in me.
I guess I'm just intelligent enough to see not only myself trapped in this cycle, but everyone else as well. A part of me knows that to break the cycle, if such a thing is even possible, that I would have to break that dome that surrounds each and every one of us. And that it may just cut us down to nothing in the process. Besides who am I to be capable of anything like that. Just another drowning man.
I try to wave to the others through the darkness in between our respective prisons, hoping that they see me, even though I can't see them. But I hardly see any evidence that they even know that I'm here. Perhaps the miasma grips them deep as well. I don't know.
But eventually something has to give, even if that something is me. Until then, I search for the light where I can, and hope that others do the same. Maybe one day we can cast these dark waters in warm light and finally truly see each other. Finally help each other without the pain and paranoia and greed poisoning us all.
I hope so, more than anything.
Available now! by T.F. Burke
easy to read poetry that feels like it was plucked from your own mind! my debut poetry collection, "Waves of Clarity" by T.F. Burke is available now! https://t.co/lfZ60h1Aic
Pulchritudinous
Pulchritudinous
May 16, 2024
Lying in wait, awaiting the spread
Split down the middle
Hole clearly visible to those
Wishing to make the purchase
Flavored delicately
Betwixt modestly and immorally
Solely for the purpose of attraction
Not for the purpose of taste
Far more desirable when warmed
Particularly if the lark is visible
From the balcony
Sans the presence of kinsmen
So remain in the bedchamber
And partake of the breakfast bagel
Regulate other thoughts far away
Such is the comfort of allusions