Latest Tales
Jungle Thoughts
He thumbed one of the ears laced through the braided cord around his neck. Heavy rain poured through the darkness of the jungle around him and made a smacking sound …
Submitting to Magazines
Publishing a magazine over the last year, I have learned quite a bit. Not only from an editor’s point of view but also from a writers’. Kevin, Editor of Written …
Submission Guidelines
Poems & Stories
Let them Speak
Every time you hush down a women’s word, And suppress their opinions to be, Citing it as unintellectual, unimportant, and of no need, You are …
Author’s Book Promo
To further help other authors and get my books in front of readers, I signed up for Bookfunnel a few days ago after catching a …
The Puzzle of Life
Why does death evoke sympathy? Even a person hated by everyone gets a couple of genuine RIPs after demise. Is it that difficult to respect …
Written Tales Writers Group
With the current censorship on Facebook, Twitter, and other social platforms, Written Tales can no longer tolerate or support it. We created this print and …
Stand Still?
I had once read a quote about happiness and it has stuck with me for the last two decades now! Happiness is like a butterfly; …
Oh, Clove & Pine
As she pinches the bow tighter,the smile of hers gets brighter,“It came from the heart,”she whispers against the music. The scent of clove and pine,the …
Blue
Blue. Like the color of his intense eyes. So hauntingly mesmerizing and that it halts me every time. I watch him dance with a beautiful …
More Than an Accessory
A Cento poem from “The Husband Stitch” in Carmen Maria Machado’s In Her Body and Other Parties I am her ribbon, the one she keeps …
Manicured Nails
Finger on lips, Hushing the devil Hips that sync, The music I fear Sins of the past, My skin she unravels Manicured Nails, Cutting what …
The Bedbug
I shouldn’t have bought this. I shouldn’t have bought this queen-sized four-poster bed. I was just a single person. I had no use of this …
The Fall of Sybil
Corn syrup is filling each grout-line of the salmon, tiled table; the fizz is subsiding as the room bubbles up. Amy and I wait for …
Crimelda
Crimelda was the fairest of the fair A vixen with whom none could compare Many a dark night in musing thought My sweet Crimelda I …
A Timeless Virtue
“Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life, is the foundation for all abundance.” — Eckhart Tolle Look around you, Can you see …
Sabbat
The Vicar plucks a crisp curl of witch skin from the pyre. He nibbles, clasping the charred flake between his forefinger and thumb. With every …
The Whirlwind
The whirlwind is a storm; the real whirlwind is the frenzy in your mind. It hates you, yet it needs your attention. It craves solace, …
Witching Hour
As bubbles caress my skin Thoughts where darkness dwells Jostling towards heat Twisting and turning in his embrace And pain becomes pleasure Eerie emptiness sinking …
Simple Solution to Every Problem
When we look at the life, the world, the universe, the reality With one glance, just superficially We find, it’s labyrinthine, very intricate with colossal …
The Sea Full of Spirits
a burst of light spread like blossoming flower, with scent like the end, over meadow, canyon, hill, and wood towards white, towering cliff: tall and …
This Is for Alex
I have prayed night and day that you will survive this time. How suffocated you must feel inside a silent cell for hours upon hours. …
I Love You Life, Again
When did I stop loving my life? Was it when I thought of cutting myself with a knife? Or was it when I had no …
You Are No Different From Me
Dissonant are the melodies we spout, enjoying walks – me, in the clouds, you – in the porch where distances you may measure. Juice you …
A Deep, Dark Hole I Can’t Ignore
Know the enemy, and know yourself. Sun Tzu There’s a deep dark hole in my network, incautiously consuming my peers Is it somewhat a scary, …
This Cramming Madness
Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone. -Pablo Picasso Got in a hill of a muddle, and they’re …
Cortisol Joyride
Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. The blood on the clock trickles the hour I once recalled. The death knell commenced with the intentional pretense I embraced. Rising up …