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Patroclus81

Joined February 2012.

25 stories, 0 challenges, 69 comments, and 6 friends

A lover of things old and new, serious and ridiculous, profound and silly. I like to write in a variety of styles and genres, though I tend to almost obsessively favor the first-person. There’s a reason, but its a long story.

I also dabble in transforming ancient Latin poems into something of my own, even though I know almost no Latin. Such hubris will surely someday be my doom.

Stories

  1. Builders

    I was there on the night it all came crashing down around us all of the years we’d carefully piled one on the other mortared with sacrifice and tears and blood We were builders, you and I, You built and I built And everything tried to knock it d...

  2. Song for the Forgotten

    A cool wind blew in from the north A cold chill lingered on our skin In that winter that was the end Of a war no one could win. The cool wind took our brothers strong The cold chill took our sisters fair Our friends forgotten by the world Their lives u...

  3. Dawn of the Iconoclast: The Final Thread (9)

    The figures arrayed in a circle around Traian were hooded, so that he could not see their faces though he knew each of them well. The effect was unsettling at first, but Traian had been through the ritual many times before. Indeed, there was a comfort ...

  4. The War of Frozen Flight, Part 2

    Beneath his bloody spear they cowered all The fiercest warriors of that icy land, Able champions but they could not stand Before his righteous wrath and fiery gall. And yet the opposing host was vast With rank on rank of soldiers holding strong To prot...

  5. Freedom Brunch

    “Of ALL the cafés in Singapore you say this is your favourite cafe?? There are thousands of cafés!” exclaimed the old English man as he took a cigarette. “Yes,” I admitted, “Thousands.” I took a sip of coffee, sweeter than...

  6. Let's Be Honest Here

    “Hey, it’s me. I’m you from the future… You wanna make out?”

  7. The Final Confrontation

    From the back of his massive warhorse, Prince Ammon looked like a god. His intricate scale armor showed not a scratch, and his long cape of embroidered feathers glowed in the waning sunlight. Behind him, his loyal soldiers carried aloft his owl banner....

  8. Awakening

    For too long I slept, ignoring the screams of the innocent, the wails of the hungry, the sobs of the repressed. I could not, would not wake. I pushed it all away and buried myself deep into the earth. Once my name had meaning. Once the guilty, selfish ...

  9. Won't Mean Anything (Mature)

  10. The Birth

    The fire and the rain and the weeping tree looked at the tiny bird (or at least most thought it was a bird) as it fought its way out of the shell. “It is my child,” said the fire, “it shall burn as I do and men and women will be consu...

  11. Little Creek

    You can’t run forever. Sure, you can try. The path that follows the little creek through the woods will keep you ahead, but it’s no escape. It’s a dead end. We both know it. Your fate is inevitable. But still you run. The water is flo...

  12. Replacement Universe

    “Nothing happened,” I said. The lights were out and Daniel had been silent and still for a long time, so I had no reason to think he was awake. “It was just another day.” I heard the slight brush of his head shifting on the pill...

  13. We are cruel clumsy creatures

    We are cruel, clumsy creatures Running in circles and Running in circles and Running into each other. Tracing obscure angles into the earth, We glow with desperation and despair. Our frustration is blinding. We are a savage, sightless species. All of u...

  14. Don't Know What Love Is (Mature)

  15. Love as an Eccentric Nineteenth Century Poetess

    My love for you is rather like Emily Dickinson late in life shut up inside with all the doors locked nobody’s mother nobody’s wife It is an agoraphobic aging poetess living alone a neighborhood legend never quite seen never recognized never...

  16. To Someone Who Is Hurting

    I’ve read your poems one by one by one by one. Most are good and some are not and some are perfect through and through— but all are real and really burn until my eyes sting from the smoke. I bet (its just my theory) you write the best on...

  17. Infection

    You got inside me like bacteria growing in the dark and damp corners of my heart. Symptoms include: irritation swelling shortness of breath fatigue and chronic pain. A routine infection. A strong dose of logic five hundred milligrams taken with fluids...

  18. To say nothing of pajamas...

    He was wearing yellow pajamas And a smile. I hadn’t seen a smile in a while, To say nothing of Pajamas …which looked warm. Yellow warm. Cotton warm. Warm as an embrace On a rainy Sunday morning With the dawn just peeking in. My heart beat...

  19. Capulet (Mature)

  20. All Kinds of Junk

    I found it in the attic, covered with a layer of dust and looking ready for the trash heap. “See, this is what I’m talking about,” I said to my wife, whose head had just appeared at the top of the ladder, “There’s all kind...

  21. Perspective (Mature)

  22. Shipwrecked

    (see Horace Ode 1.5) So who is that guy, reeking of cheap cologne, Flirting and fawning all over you With a bundle of roses and cliches, In that dark secret garden nook (Where we can all still totally see you)? Is it for him you’ve done up your hair ...

  23. First Intoxication

    “Are you sure about this?” Jacob said, his mouth twisted downward with concern. Perfectly aware that his friends were watching us, I nodded and raised the shot glass to my lips. I noticed my hands were shaking. I downed the liquid in one fl...

  24. Chrysanthe, Act V Scene 5

    KLE: Speak, villain, and thus lay bare thy crimes. For that which thou hast wrought in darkness Shall, before this multitude, be now illum’d And to thy condemnation. What say’st thou, Thou devil in the shape of man? HYA: A devil? Aye,...

  25. Midnight Interlude

    A crack of thunder jerks you awake — or is it the unrelenting pounding of your heart, drumming on your rib cage in time with the raindrops on the roof? Either way, there’s a pool of cold sweat drying on your pillow, an oily unease dripping ...

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