JoseHdz

Primary tabs

TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryAmy Beeme2013 years 5 months ago
StoryA Kind of Loving Silver Spun Sand1013 years 5 months ago
StoryThe Jazz in the Background JoseHdz413 years 5 months ago
StoryI Did Not Wake Up JoseHdz1013 years 6 months ago
StoryThree and the Quarters... Silver Spun Sand1413 years 6 months ago
Storyamy, 27 delapruch613 years 6 months ago
StoryLove is like holding your head to an electric fan, real close. maggyvaneijk3313 years 6 months ago
StoryI Thought of Jack Kerouac JoseHdz1413 years 6 months ago
StoryThey Haven't Loved JoseHdz1113 years 6 months ago
StoryNow She is Six... Silver Spun Sand2613 years 6 months ago
Story'It's Over...' Silver Spun Sand1413 years 6 months ago
StoryThe Burning shoe1713 years 6 months ago
StoryI am an addict samhennig213 years 6 months ago
Storyunfinished wishes.... lostallfaith113 years 6 months ago
StoryA walk along a roadside nature reserve... maisie413 years 6 months ago
StoryPillow samhennig213 years 6 months ago
StoryHome For the summer camilla413 years 6 months ago
Storythe suicidal soldier delapruch213 years 6 months ago
StoryYour hand in mine samhennig613 years 6 months ago
StorySun Soaked Eyes JoseHdz1213 years 7 months ago
StorySay It Isn't So Silver Spun Sand1613 years 7 months ago
StoryFrom Me to You JoseHdz1213 years 7 months ago
StoryNot Even a Rose JoseHdz513 years 7 months ago
StoryThe True Poet JoseHdz1213 years 7 months ago
StoryVenetian Interlude (IP) seashore3013 years 7 months ago

My stories

Cherry

Your Violet Wind

You touched My mind The very first day We met: I felt your eyes; I felt your violet wind. I knew that you Were different From the rest: You wanted blood; You wanted love— My kiss.
Cherry

Zapatista Blues

There Is a border Inside My Autumnal Mind: I remember The future And I see What has Died.
Cherry

Are You the Wind?

So, this is how the mind expands: it pulsates On the tips of pens - The ink flows to the Page like a violet rain, falling calmly
Poem of the week

This Serpent Tongue Cannot Be Colonized

I yearn to Speak the Silent language Of sun-burnt peasants— With a vibrant accent, Colorful with The pulse of Ancient myth: This serpent tongue— This pride— Cannot be colonized.
Cherry

The Sixth Sun Has Arrived

I did not Cross the border But My mother did And so This battle Is mine— And I will Surely win; I can take on Entire governments With my pen—

Pages