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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Thursday, June 2, 2016
small things
her eyes,
dipped in brown
ink
glimmer wet
with morning light.
her soft
cheeks, her rise and shine
whisper
into your ear,
how small things
can the make
the world
just right.
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painting by numbers
i don't think she really cares about me
that's enough
the left hand
the left hand
the white shag rug
what now
what year was that?
what year was that?
t-bone
t-bone
i saw it on tv
freed from captivity
self employed
hot donuts
hot donuts
eight chain linked fences
a pack of luckys
a pack of luckys
your floor
your floor
what i want
what i want
the new rude
all this
a closer heaven
the next day
the waiting
balance
balance
bring potatoes
bring potatoes
things happen
things happen
the clean house
without words
without words
red lips
red lips
under the shady tree
under the shady tree
the taste of it
the taste of it
we sit
we sit
shark bite
shark bite
i'll change, i promise
the nature walk
the nature walk
released from captivity
released from captivity
nothing new
red white and blue
the empty nest
the empty nest
he dreams of water
he dreams of water
the red sports car
no charge
like a chicken on a june bug
like a chicken on a june bug
the clock maker
not in the cloth
her cupcakes
not in the cloth
cry me a river
i scream out the window
i scream out the window
the open marriage
i get it
i get it
how far is vegas?
call someone
unplanned for
unplanned for
the best meal
where life ends
the chicken ranch plan
long gone
long gone
hard candy
it wasn't me
it wasn't me
happy feet
happy feet
what i miss
what i miss
have you seen my husband
did i tell about the time
did i tell about the time
leaving it just so
leaving it just so
the life we borrow
there is no wind
there is no wind
ten days at sea
old time religion
knowing your limitations
to swing
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About Me
Stephen Chute
west springfield, virginia, United States
these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters, and in no way represent any living or dead people...any similarities are simply coincidental.
View my complete profile
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