Dec 1, 2023·edited Dec 1, 2023Author

Looking Back, fiction

“Never made it to Vienna, did we, dear?”

“No. I don’t think we did.”

“Rome, either.”

“Or Paris.”

The kettle whistles. The old man ambles to it, pours the water into two chipped mugs.

She eases the tea bags in. “And I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, honey.”

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The Blues, fiction

I’d seen it done in movies, so I gave it a shot.

Made it to the ceremony, but she married him anyway.

“Fuck. I should have never come to Memphis,” I said.

Missed the flight back home and had to stay another night.

The hotel shower had no hot water.

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Poem to a sinking canal town.

I long to see you again, Venezia, looking up to your skies searching for memories, and with moisture in my eyes, recalling them. My soul never really left, and my spirit keeps coming back. You are all of me, piece by piece, cell by cell, tear by tear.

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I never would have thought

She'd find herself in Scarsdale.

Too stuck up, she used to say.

GPS says this is the house.

A boy and a girl chase each other with squirt guns.

The girl looks a bit like her.

Never would have believed

She'd be happy in Scarsdale.

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Happy Demons, Fiction, Tragedy

Spring in his step, Matthew looked

like a man possessed by a happy demon as he smiled his way to the restaurant.

He was too busy mentally rehearsing

the question and imagining her reply when he crossed the busy New York City street.

The ring never left his pocket.

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Losers Weepers (Semi-historical fiction)

‘You heard? They’ve found him.’


‘The hunchback king. Under a car park, in Leicester.’

‘That shithole? What’s he doing there?’

‘Dumped after Henry’s men killed him. Was a chapel, see.’

‘So Richard of York’s finally coming home.’

‘No, they’re citing the old law.’

‘Which bloody law’s that?’

‘Finders keepers…’

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Dec 1, 2023·edited Dec 1, 2023Liked by Justin Deming

HOMETOWN, prose poem

I walk alone on the Santa Cruz beach this winter morning. While seabirds startle the icy sky, freezing spume licks at my feet, and the receding tide erases all traces of yesterday.

I leave my prints on the shore. The shore has left its prints across my long, long life.

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Dry, you say? (Poem)

House hunting

For a French fancy

High and low

To and fro

Pop the cork

Turn left at the fork

Near Champagné-le-Sec

Cava, Crémant, where next?

Let bubbles foam

We found a home

The name means dry Champagne

So, ‘what’s in a name’

‘Dry’ you say?

‘Drip, Drop’. Rain, go away

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Cowboy In The Dark (poem)

Texas' moon hangs in the sky,

dancing sweet silver,

like a watchful eye.

The cowboy is alone,

not a searching coyote cry,

just this dark pasture to roam.

His painted horse by his side,

his gun on his hip,

The warmth of tooled leather cowhide,

this lone cowboy's proud ship.

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"Ode to Buenos Aires", Journal

Today I witnessed the poetry of the heavens, immense landscapes that humble your being, The smells of “asado”, earth, and wine.

The color of the South Atlantic Great, tango, and sweat. The memory of my first sweetheart... The color of her caramel eyes, her hair flowing in the cool breeze...

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Feels Like Home-fiction

We intended to drive through Hillsboro.

It’s one of those towns where they say, “Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it.”

Well, we didn’t blink.

Houses and buildings can be mere structures, or they can nurture the soul. The town reached out to us, invited us to stay. So, we did.

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Dec 2, 2023Liked by Justin Deming

Welcome to the pit of death - The Dhanbad coal mines

50 words poem

Coal boy stared at the golf club

Mother lay dead whilst they splurged soda club

Time to rally folk for the battle

Against those who mistreated his kin like cattle

Finally Dhanbad would regain it's lost glory

Blood and grime would finally be at peace amidst its past horrific gory

Sunil Anand

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Hear my Brooklyn state of mind

Open memory's box and find

The project Im from most folks thought books

Fine tools for smashing roaches everywhere we looked

Richest landlords of our nation

Ate roaches with mustard and elation

Time for awards

They came forward, we were floored


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FLYING, fiction

As I approached the edge of Niagara Falls, the water's roar intensified.

Suddenly, I heard a chilling voice.

“Fly!” It said.

I turned, but saw no one.

Panic gripped me, as shadows danced along the mist.

The falls seemed to beckon as a portal to horrors opened and I flew.

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Concord, CNF

Concord is my home. Not Concord in Alabama, Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Illinois, Indiana, Kansas, Louisiana, Maryland, Massachusetts, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Nebraska, or New Hampshire. And not in New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Oregon, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee,Texas, Vermont, Virginia, West Virginia, or Wisconsin.

The one in California.

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Our parents would take us into NYC to see the Christmas sights.

What I remember most: St Patrick's Cathedral had a big Nativity scene, women would leave

their holiday corsages back when they were popular. So wonderful, to leave a

sparkling part of you at the feet of Baby Jesus.

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Dec 2, 2023Liked by Justin Deming

The situation of child labour in India still prevalent even though illegal. The powerful landlords are responsible for such a scenario. That's what has triggered violent protests in the form of Naxalite movements which aim to get equality for such acts of atrocities. It's a very sad and dangerous situation...

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It is what it is. Acceptance bears bliss. Love this. No regrets 🙏🍀🤗

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Dec 19, 2023·edited Dec 19, 2023Liked by Justin Deming

When The Ferries Stopped, poetic fiction


One night the Internet went down

and the cell towers went silent

and the fog swept in

We awoke to a familiar Island

made strange

and alone

with voices vanished

and our minds shifting

like the sea

new thoughts or

very old

Yonder Island! Who are we?

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Sunport: Albuquerque || CNF

New Mexico Tourism Board posters: Land of Enchantment—caverns, bats, turquoise and meth. The woman ahead of me, chugging a chocolate milk. Everyone on their phones. The air thick with cinnamon and burnt coffee. A pink camo backpack, “Whitney” stitched across the front pocket in silver glitter. Ponytails and bubblegum.

PS: John's photo this month is outstanding!

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After a lifetime of living in NYC, I am now too far away for a casual visit. So I go to The Action Kid on YouTube and get my NYC fix. The Halloween Parade, Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree . . .

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Love this, Amie! Couldn’t agree more with you regarding John’s photo. John designed my book cover...can’t wait for you to see it! It’s beautiful.

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