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Doctor Oger
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Light With a tinkle and a buzz the naked lightbulb is flickering to life. While it is warming up and gaining in golden brightness, the chamber is gradually becoming more real. The whitewash is still actually white, but it has black and brown spots where the walls, ceiling, and floor are slightly damaged. Small and large chunks chipped off of them over the decades make the time it has endured obvious. These dark holes relieve the light and drain the cell’s brilliance somehow, make it less pre
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These are fragments, short stories and maybe even actual short stories. Each chapter is its own. They contain ghosts, giants, magic books, dead people, murder, drugs, suicide...
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I dunno, it's small enough to escape anyone's notice? And yes! Whether the weather be cold, whether the weather be hot, weather the weather, whatever the weather, whether we like it or not - We take the weather and OWN the weather, whatever our mood. Thank you again for the read and I'm glad you like it!
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The Fragmentation Of Mars I feel like Mars, Moderate and calm. While so many stars Feature heat and storm. Adrift on my ellipse In Milky Way I’ve run My billion-years-long trips In orbit ‘round the sun. Now there’s a white-hot star Approaching me with speed, Large rock come from afar, Who’ll smash me when we meet. And meet we will, because Like paralysed I’ll stay On its determined course, Too slow to move away. The dusty, icy surface Of my solid, rocky ground I
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Storm I step out of the scarlet mood of a night’s heated embrace into a vast grey morning, and a sharp cold brushes my face. The force of the storm and rain whips my breath alive again. The water dies on me and runs in cold streams down my skin, and like the wet heavy clothes my hair clings, and etches the shape of my face, complete with closed eyes and a grin. An exhilarating gust of wind billows my lungs and I have to laugh. Euphoria blows away the ice trickle that stings, I throw
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Sure, I'll make it a cheerier one. Thank you very much! It seems to have had the desired effect. Thank you for the review.
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Ill or nothing I remember how I used to look up at skies red like bloody sick. So crimson, and glowing like a pest blain, it seemed to call out to me in a fever, waiting for death to cut open its skin and release the blood and pus to spill out over the whole world. When it looked like this it never rained. My eyes would droop and my mouth drop open, and smoke and sweaty steam would creep into my nostrils until their tang began to sicken me, and all I could smell was that rotten grease. The enti
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These are poems: Prose-poetry/Lyrical prose, ballads, sonnets and other forms. Topic span: Space, Insanity, Death, Society, Frustration, Beauty, Peace, Despair, Intimacy and Sex -- but most are actually love poems.
