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About Richard M. Ankers
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Blog postWe kill the cure Condemn the curse We shout and spit As though it fashion Is it! The words we use No smiles, all eyes And fingers pointing ‘That’s what they’re for’ Are they! A reckless adventure Inferno in waiting Made for decay Meant to delay Does it! Prefabricated values Shoved down throats Gagging, we … Continue reading The Wordkillers →
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Blog postIt lay in the street like a puddle of blood. A soft liquid, downy, not right, I approached this small death with tentative steps. The blood shifted as if to pour away. Startled, I recoiled. Though detested by this fear of something so small, this unexpected disturbance, I regathered. My breaths steadied to a pulsing … Continue reading Cardinal Sin →
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Blog postIt was not her perfume, exquisite though it was Neither was it her hair, the colour of a waking dream Nor her lithe and slender body, mesmerising as a nymph It was her eyes, always her eyes Those light-consumptive orbs of splendour Darker than the abyss and deeper than the pit Blacker than black, as … Continue reading Swallowed →
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Blog postThis jagged smile she plays for fun An indelicate balance tilted in her favour Such an exact science, applied and described Crimson painted, plum or sea blue It matters not Styled for the moment, smudged with a wave Exposed is an exposure kindly received Works both ways she says And I believe her because she’s … Continue reading Barbed Wire Kiss →
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Blog postSo that’s his game! The old man sat there with a brick for a phone pressed to his hairy ear. He squinted, strained to hear whoever he talked with, mouthed spittle-infused words. Oh, he was good. Really good. But it was an obvious ruse. He turned and gave me that glassy-eyed look only the elderly … Continue reading Few Hairs and The Torteless →
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Blog postWhen loving ghosts, one must make allowances, for their intangible nature prohibits touch, physical warmth, passion. They mire in sadness regardless of kind words, a warming sun, a lover’s wistful look. To struggle is in their make-up, their very essence. Like drifters on a highway, they patrol the ley lines you may not tread. Not … Continue reading Three Paragraphs on the Art of Loving Ghosts →
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Blog post“Call me old-fashioned but I like my pants clean, pressed and swishing.” “You’re old-fashioned.” “Thanks.” “You’re very welcome, gramps.” “There’s nothing wrong with looking and feeling smart.” “And there wasn’t in the seventies, either, eh?” “Cheeky sod.” “Look, I’m telling you this as your friend, purple velour pants and an orange crinoline shirt’s only gonna … Continue reading The Babe Magnet (In Dialogue) →
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Blog postThere once was a boy who lived in a hole. There in the warm, musty darkness where roots embraced him, he hid from the bright world outside. He hid from the loud, the violent and crude. He hid from the harm they’d done. They found him cringing that meekest of creatures, pushed in a corner … Continue reading Once Upon Too Many (A Dark Fairytale) →
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Blog postThey say a scream is a scream is a scream. Hurt is hurt. Pain is pain. That both subside with every unfulfilled second. They say many things. But what do they know? What do they really know? The mind is a curious container, delicate even. If the mind were glass, one might shatter it with … Continue reading This Scream Called Us (Rated 15) →
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Blog postCeleste radiated something akin to love, a certain lukewarm appreciation. Mama called this cunning — Celeste prickled behind her eyes. Papa said it smarts — Celeste upset his oversensitive gut. Me? Celeste melted my heart. Was I suspicious? Never! Celeste could have bought and sold us. Our secret, until after the wedding.
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