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  1. New #Poetry book release!

    Concise is Not Enough is my new book of #poems, taking a circuitous route between endings, beginnings & everything in between 😊

    All human created - no f$&$ing AI!!!

    stevestillstanding.com/2026/08

    #poem #book #creativewriting

  2. I was the shudder before the world grew heavy with bone. A blind, paper-thin leaf with a thread pulsing 𝘳𝘶𝘯. My hair-trigger nerve flexed in the shadows, undulated in the trilobite nursery, burrowed under the silk of the seafloor. The weight of the next half-billion years was coiled right here, inside this snap-bend architecture of fear.

    #MastoPrompt
    #nimble
    #smallstories
    #writing
    #creativewriting
    #paleopoetics
    @stevencudahy

  3. Empire of Dragons @dragonshortstories.wordpress.com@dragonshortstories.wordpress.com ·

    A Dragon’s Power (Part One): Mattia’s Gift, Mattia’s Embrace

    A tired man limps across the narrow pathway, the only safe path on a floor of lava
    wearing a ragged orange poncho with crisscross patterns,
    and tattered trousers wracked by his tumultuous life.
    the heat nearly sears his skin,
    his wits are barely clinging on, and the path seems endless,
    yet he still walks,
    he still takes steps forward.

    There was loneliness on this road,
    a vast fiery sea within this underground expanse, with only a single narrow path,
    no signs of life but hearing the occasional chittering of fire wyrms,
    eventually, his steps slowed to a halt
    he couldn’t continue onward, despite what he felt in his heart
    ‘keep going,’ it urged, but his body said, ‘no.’

    On his knees, he begged aloud for the grace of Mattia
    he begged and begged, incessantly, hands clasped together,
    and after a while,
    after the heat nearly burned his feet,
    the ceiling ahead caved in and a light shone from above

    that light was Mattia himself, descending upon the forsaken man,
    gracefully flying behind him and encasing the man in his gentle embrace
    Mattia softly guided the man’s head to his chest,
    enveloping the dejected man in a quiet, motherly comfort,
    his gentle heartbeat sending healing vibrations.

    Mattia’s voice was like a soothing, soft blanket for the man’s shaken nerves, “O, forsaken soul, thy hast cometh to mine lands seeking help. I shall grant you safe passage.”

    He took this human away,
    to a place where all of his worshippers gathered,
    carefully taken care of and tended to in his care

    ~ ~ ~

    “I will… do anything for him… my god.”

    The man knelt before the radiant prince,
    taking his hand with the softness of a lover,
    and laying a kiss upon it

    Mattia seemed indifferent,
    his eyes staring blankly
    no smile present upon his delicate features

    The man looks up,
    soaking in the sight of that solemn face
    a reflection of beauty—of Ashuton Karrucci
    and all who came after him
    but Ashuton was the one his heart remembers most

    During the war when dragons reclaimed earth,
    his family had always been devout followers of Ashuton
    hanging portraits of him above their fireplace
    alongside photos of their family
    photos of smiling little girls and boys surrounded by bigger people
    of smiling aunts and uncles in professional portraits
    colorful, with a bevy of hairstyles from different generations
    mohawks, fluffed permed hair, bed-tousled straight hair, afros adorned with accessories
    a blended memorial to time—and to the dragon kings
    portraits of Ashuton remain in the middle
    like as if he was one of them
    that worship still continues today, through this man
    the last of his family.

    He took this pilgrimage to beg forgiveness from the Karrucci line
    but to be accepted… like this?
    it was unheard of
    his ancestors could only dream this, in their ageless coffins long forgotten by the constant dirt

    “I give my heart to you,” he said gently
    Mattia nods.
    “I recognize you, human.”

    Human.
    not even on a last name basis.
    he accepts it, lucky enough to get this far
    being lumped in with the other humans is fine.

    ~ ~ ~

    In the garden, he watered the flowers
    it was his job, assigned to him by a tall biped yellow dragon with crinkled wings
    the wyvern had bowed to him upon first meeting
    when he spoke, his voice had the same gentle warmth as Mattia’s silken tones
    “your place is in the garden, where your weary soul may rest among the flowers, but you must tend to them,” he said.

    The man nodded, “I am ever-grateful to be allowed rest.”

    The wyvern mimics his action, eyes closed, “yes, yes, but it cannot last.”

    The man’s eyebrows creased, his head tilting as confusion reigned his thoughts, “what do you mean?”
    hm, concern was starting to dig itself in

    The wyvern replied, “when you have recovered physically, and your mind has rested enough, The Prince will have need for your company.”

    That didn’t sound ominous at all…

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    #Anime #books #creativeWriting #Dragons #Fantasy #Fiction #literature #ShortStories #shortStory #Writing
  4. A Stay In The Lake District #5

    Friar’s Crag & Strandshag Bay.

    After our clockwise boat trip around Derwentwater, we had a break for lunch at Treeby’s Café on Lake Road. It’s a lovely eating place sited on the ground floor beneath the Treeby and Bolton Gallery, accessible either through the gallery or via the entrance on Lake Road.

    We then returned to the lakeside to take a look at Friar’s Crag, a small promontory overlooking the lake and Strandshag Bay and giving distant views of the jaws of Borrowdale.

    You can read the rest of this post, and see the attached photographs of this beautiful area by using this link to reach the full post on Medium. Don’t worry if you’re not a member, the link will allow you to read the whole piece with no cost. And, who knows, perhaps the introduction to this rapidly developing site for writers will appeal to you!

    Rate This

    #Author #CreativeWriting #LakeDistrict #Photography #Tourism #Travel #Writing
  5. So much more than what lies before you


    Those who gossip are in the tropics on reserve moving up up up up. You can’t feel to heal you

    Won’t                          and               cant destroy purity once it’s born     having torn the ideas quick              a poem sits

             Naked      and      neglected

    What of you, abandon?      Just where did                                      you     go?   I’m not pollinating any foreign concepts, I’m coming,      already circling your visions space  the faint tie between is cut      lurking inside    confide  in you I would  only safe  but your mouth aflame your voice  delays never again shall you talk of me    is there a beautiful way to express the shame in being what ex lovers try to forget?  I yell a sound tied to laughter,   that loneliness of hotel dog house, in gazing over the town, whoever is in your bed,   make the truth into melody one sunset  the type of loneliness that never seeps away  it comes in those cold nights  and warms up inside you and never goes away, ever, and how funny, that loneliness is what stays loyal, it’s all I can trust to not leave, i know that some art is made of this and that I know it well   this ruckus of the pure becoming

    Im saying something

    #Creativewriting #Dadaism #Literaryart #Portlandoregon #StreamOfConsciousness #art #blogging #poetry #reading #surrealism
  6. Before she was hind, she was limb.

    Before limb, fin.

    Before the forest learned the shape of her flight,
    the gesture of departure was already there,
    before teeth, even before bone itself.

    #MastoPrompt
    #hind
    #writing
    #smallstories
    #creativewriting
    #paleopoetics
    @stevencudahy

  7. There is a whole lot you can say with just a few words, and if you need help, the #freeresources on our website can inspire you when it comes to writing #FlashFiction.

    🔗 Check them out here: dlvr.it/TVHxM6

    #WritingTips #CreativeWriting #Storytelling

  8. A motif isn’t just a repeated symbol, it’s a symbol that changes meaning. The image that meant hope in act one can mean grief by the end. You’re showing how much has changed by how differently the same thing lands. Don’t explain it, let the reader feel it. 🏮 🌸 📖

    #writingcommunity #amWriting #writing #Inkbreaker #writingtips #creativewriting #writersofmastodon