-Excerpt from The Shorter Things Collection
My newest release is an anthology of poems, flash fiction, and short stories I wrote over the last few years that do not fit so comfortably into the Young Adult genre. It’s for everyone, especially those who find it hard to read a whole novel. Sometimes short is all you have time for. I apologize in advance though; just because these pieces are short doesn’t mean they’re all sweet. The genres span from haiku to horror, and many in between. Get your ebook copy today.
I’d like to share with you my favorite poem in the collection, Color In Circles.
I felt bold. Bold. Bold as a box of bright crayons on gray recycled paper.
A rectangular page ripped from a Cinderella coloring book,
That utility box of Crayolas, ten predictable shades
Blue, Yellow, Red, Purple, Green, Brown, Orange, Pink, Black, and White
Primary to primal.
A rainbowed Decalogue stains the cheap pages
To color Cinderella in her temporary magical dress
Losing. Losing. Losing her damn glass slipper.
Graffiti without boundaries,
Void of trained aesthetics, haphazard, fearless.
A picture to reflect the stunted artist
Not for public display. The ten shades reveal a blushing testament.
What is to be done with this? This. This rendering by a frantic child?
Paint over it. Disguise the disgrace.
Slather over the mistakes with black ooze and let it dry.
Etch out a design. No, scratch out a warning—
Don’t. Don’t. Don’t waltz with strangers, Prince Charmings, narcissists.
Toss the testament in the trash with the glass slippers.
Abandon it. The mockery, the etched remnant.
Find a fresh page of thick bleached parchment.
New. New. New from a coloring book for grown-ups.
Purchase the jumbo box of crayons—ninety-six shades, nearly one-hundred hues.
Remember. Remember. Remember sitting at the table, one summer in the early‘80s.
“Use circles,” mom instructed, making bold impressions, not feeble scribbles.
Shades of blossoming pinks filled the empty space between lines.
Sunrise-tinged flowers of carnation, salmon, and fuschia.
Take the new page.
Grasp the renewed legacy.
Create. Create. Create again and again and again.
Capture the shades between bold and afraid.
There is no end.
“So, hero, are you going to visit?” Nate asks.
Jaycee eyes her purple notebook and winks.
“Of course. I have a story to tell her.”
Excerpt from my short fantasy tale, Tigress. Sign up for my newsletter and read the whole story for free!
Elizabeth wiped the tears from her face and began quoting,
“The days are dark, the ocean surrounds.
My fate is unseen, my fate is not ground.”
The Guardian joined her.
“For God orders all, I am just a mist.
Hovering still, waiting for bliss.
The dark hides me well, my heart longs for light.
I live by this creed—it is all for the bright!”
Olivia smiled, happy her friend still remembered the old poem.
“Ainsling—do you still believe in the red string?”
The Red Knot, Chapter 26, The Recognition
The other file stared back at him. Threats.
The file was thick. It mostly contained empty claims, but every threat to E.C.C.O. was investigated. The paperwork was ridiculous. There were a few red-flagged threats—ongoing investigations. The two biggest threats at present were the Freedom Restoration Movement and the mysterious Guardian.
–The Red Knot, Prologue
The vengeful herd closed in on Jack. He ran as fast as he was able, his lungs burning from the effort. His hope of escape disappeared when he turned the corner and found himself in a dead-end alley. Jack fell to his knees.
“This thing-a-ma-jig says it will be close to three hours. Better get comfortable and put on that hat like I told you earlier or you’re going to have some serious sunburn.”
T-bone scowled and reluctantly stuffed a fisherman’s hat over his thick head of dreads.
–The Red Knot, Chapter One, The Vision
I watch the van pull away. An eager voice from behind me sings, “Can I have your autograph?” I’m about to refuse when I feel a prick in my neck. I collapse into a heap of striped spandex and leather onto the cold sidewalk.
I hear and see everything around me, but I’m paralyzed.
“Let me tell you about another loser God used—his name was David. He was young and scrawny and musical. In fact, this artsy dude was one of the first true singer/songwriters. Of course, his biggest fans were sheep.”—eyeroll—“No one thought he was anything special, even his own family. He was a loser in the world’s eyes. But God used that loser to slay a giant. God can use you, too!”
“Dude, I don’t even own a slingshot,” I joke under my breath to Kayla.
I would rather be with Shu Rui than anyone in the world. She makes me laugh with her funny words and silly smiles. No one in my family listens to me, but Shu Rui does. And she never ignores me or tells me I talk too much.
Please, step into my worlds
Inspiring the world
Let's mend the broken
In search of the crafting life, in York, the most beautiful city in the world!
Poetry by Shawn M. Young
because reading makes us human
Psychology to Motivate | Inspire | Uplift
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Science Fiction Writer
with Aidan, the knitting monk
Welcome to My Life
Fiction writings, ghost stories, supernatural and some humor.
Motorbikes, dogs and a lot of traveling.
Powerful Wisdom For A Happy And Fulfilled Life
poems on commission
the blog of Angélique Jamail, Author