Massive thanks to editor, Barbara Leonhard, for publishing my latest think piece, (because every now and again I do), Isolation Becalms the Soul, in her wonderful new literary magazine, Feed The Holy.
Please do take a moment to read the fantastic works on offer. You won’t be disappointed.
A massive thank you to editor, Manuela Timofte, for publishing my latest poem, The Girl. As always, I hope you enjoy it, and please do take a little time to look around the site. There are some wonderful pieces to read.
A big thank you to editor, Mirjana, for yet another wonderful issue of Suburban Witchcraft. Issue 9 is packed full of an amazing array of art, poetry and prose. I feel privileged to have my work, Desperation Equals Damnation, included in this fabulous magazine.
I’m delighted to announce a new piece of creative writing, …and Coltrane Played, written between myself and my fabulous co-author, and the love of my life, Gina Maria Manchego, is now available at Collaborature. This is a wonderful magazine that prints stories, poems and more, always written collaboratively between two people. Very unique.
Collaborature To work jointly with others writing in prose or verse.
A short prose that blends music and love, I hope you enjoy our contribution: …and Coltrane Played
If you enjoyed this piece, please consider a small donation to help further my writing life. Thank you for reading Richard
A big thank you to editor, Manuela Timofte, for publishing my latest short prose, Separated at Birth. Please take a look at the other wonderful poetry and prose on the site. Gobblers by Masticadores never disappoints. Here
Twins set apart by time and tide, yet close enough to touch. This is our meeting as if from thin air. This is the face on a screen. Here, we linger, the two of us, interacting with a world that neither understands us nor wishes to. We say the right things, act as others, but remain remote. As hermits in a world made social, where everyone and everything is a supposed friend, we become just this.
We feel each other. Our words mean more when felt, not just spoken to appease. Those with poor memories see through such things, for lies are abhorrent to the cerebrally challenged, whereas truths are undoubtedly solid. Even when the pain strikes us both, we remain true to this. When it grows worse, we never falter. When one hurts, so does the other. If one resists weeping, the other blinks back the tears. As if affixed by a very long string, one tug is felt no matter the distance. Two tugs makes the other one topple; I don’t like to see her fall.
This is us, just eyes in a glass face, and voices powered by electronics. It ought not to work, but it does. It ought not to mean so much, but it couldn’t mean more. Twins, some might call us, separated at birth. She touches the screen and I touch it back. I know the pain in her head is as bad as mine, but a pain shared is a pain halved, mother says. Apparently, hers says the same.
If you enjoyed this piece, please consider a small donation to help further my writing life.
A big thank you to editor, Manuela Timofte, for publishing my latest poetry piece, Been and Gone. This one’s a little different in that it’s a collaboration with my co-author and the girl who is my universe, Gina Maria Manchego. I hope you enjoy.
Steel ribs cage the beast. Burst free, my enemy! Reveal yourself to the world! A ridiculous proclamation born of a ridiculous man. I splutter out like a wetted candle. Exertion meets exhaustion, as steam rises like ghosting breaths. Only the melancholy escapes, grey plumes of inner me. The shell remains untouched, unlike the damaged mind which reaches tendrils of self deep under a paper epidermis to ink out everything they touch. Dark, they are, seeking crimson warmth and love, an extension to this endless pain. A revelation. A blunt gift. The inner me is my enemy. I repeat this patient mantra. But the cage is unbending and the will behind it raw. After all, is passing not for blurring speedsters, or those avoiding the view? I have neither a view nor the time in which to travel. This heart thuds an agreement when I would wish It a stone-cold death.
If you enjoyed this piece, please consider a small donation
Richard M. Ankers - Storybook 
You must be logged in to post a comment.