Headless He stood in front of me his neck a stump without a head. In his hand was a note on expensive stationary scrawled in
Category: Poetry
The Eagle Cried
I’m honored to share a poem from my friend, Northern California writer, and Vietnam Vet, Richard Turton. The Eagle Cried The acrid smell of cordite
A Faint Smile
He turned to her A faint smile With depth And sharpness Yet when he turned It was as if He was only An image In
A need you dare not admit.
A need you dare not admit. Poetry on a Vampire Mom blog? Why? I’ll tell you. People won’t admit they read poetry and are moved
Poetry, Ghosts, and Vampires
He told me that he loved The warm breeze on his face The smell of pine trees And water on granite The sounds of nothing
Online Party and Live Short Story Reading
My friends Jon and Brian are having a Book Launch Party and you’re invited. I’ve been to their events before and it is well worth
Vampire Maman 