I am..
the bruised ego,
that refuses to let go,
the scar left on your minds thoughts,
the manifestation of insanity,
that tells you the world is yours alone to control.
I am...
the Id that talks behind your Ego's back,
that tells it to do things that will bring your conscience to pallid pallor,
that will make your heart and conscience feel shame.
I am...
the amorphic atrophy of morality,
that brings about the totality of your moral centers' collapse,
the voice that yells… Continue
Added by Robert M on November 4, 2009 at 5:00pm —
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Wail of siren blares into disrupted vision of sound,
blue and red prelude flashing before my eyes;
Car stops abruptly,
in middle of road,
amidst the chocking fog;
no apparernt reason,
as sinister figure of deputy,
swaggers over with siniser gate,
strides out of cruiser,
badge of authority glaring uncomfortably in sun,
glaring through fog,
disrupting my vision,
as glint of gold catches my eye,
heartbeat elevated;
drip of sweat creeps slowly down,
crawling down inside of my thig… Continue
Added by Robert M on November 2, 2009 at 1:30am —
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I was recently asked by Amber Jean Grosjean of Writing 4 All, to respond to some questions regarding my work. Below are my answers, which I tried to keep succinct. I didn’t totally succeed. My sense of humor still peered around the corner once in awhile. I find this a little amusing in itself, my humor doesn’t rear its head in most of my writing, but anytime someone asks me a serious question, there it is, throwing double entendre spit balls for all it’s worth. I was able to keep it to a minimum… Continue
Added by Loretta Wheeler on October 16, 2009 at 3:06pm —
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Just got word this morning.
My sci fi story, AFTERMATH is to be in a sci fi anthology which will be published in kindle and sold through Amazon.
It's also going to be presented as a radio play.
Thanks to everyone who supported me in this endeavor, I'm so grateful! Continue
www.jrlagreca.com
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Chapter 1
The Wellingtons
Fireflies glimmered with sparks of orange light as the gloaming began
to fall. Tables were set out on the manicured lawn of the Wellington
estate in Great Neck, Long Island. Yellow lanterns were strung around
the perimeters. Their golden light radiated along the garden’s edge like a
gilded frame. In the distance the soft hum of the train… Continue
Added by J. R. LaGreca on June 2, 2009 at 1:21pm —
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www.jrlagreca.com
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Chapter One
The Roses
The town of Clinton, Connecticut lay beneath mounds of freshly fallen
snow. A lone shadow against the New England landscape, Lawrence Gray’s
gnarled form veered alongside the cathedral to the Saint James Cemetery.
The skeleton trees exaggerated the old man’s pallor while the bouquet of
roses he clutched contrasted to the winter and season of… Continue
Added by J. R. LaGreca on June 2, 2009 at 1:00pm —
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www.jrlagreca.com
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Chapter 1
Edith
Courtney Gold stirred in her sleep as the wind thrashed at her window. She could swear she felt a warm breath upon her cheek as she stumbled out of bed. Her golden-wheat hair was tousled around her shoulders while her high cheekbones deemed her suitable for silk and pearls. Dressed in an ecru nightgown, which reached to the top of her long drink of… Continue
Added by J. R. LaGreca on June 1, 2009 at 10:30pm —
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www.jrlagreca.com
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Chapter 1
The Bordello 1995
Ray Brent looked out of place walking down the seamy side of Spanish Harlem in his classic gray wool suit and blue shirt. His freshly polished penny loafers were as shiny as his brown hair which he wore parted on the side, and neatly combed.
At forty, Ray appeared youthful and manly in equal proportions. Charisma emitted through his b… Continue
Added by J. R. LaGreca on June 1, 2009 at 9:30pm —
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www.jrlagreca.com
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This novel is a mix of my college inspired mind and my adult mind, merged in a saga of vintage seduction, revisited . . .” J. R. LaGreca
Chapter 1
The Wrath
The beautiful Camille Casey sat before the lit fireplace, perusing the
South Shore Weekly, with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. She turned to
the Nuptial Section when her hands began to tremble with disbeli… Continue
Added by J. R. LaGreca on June 1, 2009 at 9:00pm —
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SILENCE
In shades of sorry tune
Black burned a burden dark,
When evening fell with a slit of moon.
Conspirator of an evil lark,
Vagabond of earth was he.
The lone specter of a nightly roam,
Haunting with the scent of death
Stirring in his absent heart.
Flying like an… Continue
Added by J. R. LaGreca on May 31, 2009 at 11:18pm —
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Tempt not the mistress of the night
be not beguiled by her flesh.
For she is demon, quite insane
black heart inside her breast.
Amid the tombs, midnight death
she strips away her clothes.
Naked as the day she spawned,
a thorn pricked from the rose.
Possession is the path she walks
be careful of your friends.
The devil bitch from Lucifer’s lair
could be hiding in their skin.
Poor pitiful, little human man
free will guides you by sex.
She will fuck you good and hard
her ecstasy, yo… Continue
I am timeless
I am death
Usurper of your greed.
Worm in the core
of your heart
the want inside the need.
Mysterious
and militant
defy what you achieve.
The splintered wood
from you cross
twisting what you believe.
I have vanquished evil
fought for what is true
But part of me is evil
just like
each of
you.
I am the one
bringer of doubt
talon to make you bleed.
My minions
tend to congregate
in your church of need.
A bastard king
and pawn in chess
a player of the game.
The strongest one
of the wea… Continue
Added by Wordmachinist on April 14, 2009 at 2:47pm —
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FRUSTRATION
That terrible tyranny of anguish,
that tingles tendrils in the recesses of hidden veins.
FRUSTRATION
That tale of unsolved resolutions,
that tale in the bloodstream,
that causes so much pain.
FRUSTRATION
That feeling of the ubiquity of the universe,
a cold shoulder of fate,
that sloughs off the carnal refrain,
of those that struggle against the walls of fate,
that hollow thud of frustrated frustration,
a sonnorance of sorrow,
that does not receede in uttering it's name.
Take me… Continue
Added by Robert M on January 23, 2009 at 11:30pm —
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Vapor of insidious vacillation accosts the vertices of the mind,
seeping into hidden echoes of thought we cannot find.
Vapor of venomous feeling veils itself in false face of feeling,
to the false feel of vapour we are resigned.
Vapour of venom hides in vest… Continue
Added by Robert M on January 23, 2009 at 11:30pm —
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Where could I have drifted to,
in this wretched state of mine,
that leads me to a wispy town,
where all the souls have drowned?
Where could I have drifted to,
in this wretched memories space,
where horror is etched upon the face,
of this unknown town of psyche,
th… Continue
Added by Robert M on November 1, 2008 at 10:30pm —
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