Rustlings of the Wind: Poetry and Prose


	(ISSN 1524-7066)

P O E M S [] S T O R I E S [] G A M E S [] B O L T S [] C O P Y R I G H T S

Proud poets and stimulating storytellers have been raised in our enormous "Writer Friendly Free Range 4x4x4 Stalls" for scrumpteous consumption by our eager and ever-hungry guests.

The lycanthropic Adrienne Victor has paid us a visit. She has left her mark all over this issue. Take a sniff, then go to the Adrienne Victor Adoration Page and sniff some more.

Before you run away screaming, jump on our bandwagon and join our invitation list. And don't forget to sign the guestbook, too.

> P O E M S

Instant Adrienne

Write about this picture The Fiddler and His Lady by J. Kevin Wolfe
He made his fiddle a lady
in the exhaled haze of a Dingle pub
As the drums and strums
M O R E
city and sober by Ryan Muff
the world's set in mirror today
stasis sink catches hours' whiskers
and minutes' drips
M O R E
a blue window of fragmented glass by L R Martínez
by a distant shore that no waves ever reach
there stand the ruins i call home
my name is engraved in the fragile sand
and my soul echoes in the brittle wind
M O R E
surprise by Chris Wanten
the moment
unspeakable
heartbeat
shaking
hands
M O R E
to kat by amanda mcgown
as she lay there
staring
her loss was overbearring
M O R E
Open Lips by L R Martínez
So tired, so stranged,
On the balcony she waited
"if life came back
M O R E
The Day Reality Asked Dreams For a Dance by J. Kevin Wolfe
On the day Reality asked Dreams for a dance.
But Dreams declined. "You are often
crude and would step on my hopeful feet."
M O R E
Fragile by Jennifer McGuire

When you speak to me, do you choose your words carefully hoping not to confuse me?
M O R E
NO Return by Marina Medved
There is no return
Life must go on,
She must keep on going
M O R E
rainstorm by Chris Wanten
rain
pearls down
like falling
tears
M O R E

> S T O R I E S

About Adrienne

Write about this picture One Sunny Day by Kim Guilbeau

One sunny day, Karen woke to the sounds of a red robin serenading her at her window. She opened her eyes, blinked until she adjusted to the light, and after a few moments the realization hit her. The world was clear.
She sat straight up in bed. Her head was clear. Her thoughts were clear. The depression, which sat on her soul for the past year, had finally, mysteriously lifted. She didn’t know how, and she didn’t care how. All that she cared about was that it was gone.
M O R E
Time To Go by Rich Logsdon

Stephanie Thrush slouched on a wooden bench in the darkened corner of the night club dressing room, her back resting against the faded chipped green metal locker in which she had kept her dance outfits for the past four years. She knew that her career as a dancer had ended that night, that she had been called to reckoning, and now, a floppy brown Bible open on the bench, she had spent the last fifteen minutes meditating upon scripture, seeking promises upon which she had once built her faith. Words on the page, however, swam muddily before her, and so she closed the book.
M O R E
The War by James E. Dravven

Darkness invades my heart like a cancer invading the precious cells. Morality and life slip away as the darkness takes hold, quickly multiplying and devouring what was at one time my eternal soul. Love, Kindness and Happiness are quickly replaced by the Evil Trio that have started so many wars the history books could not keep an accurate account. Jealousy, Hate and Despair replaced all that I was and without remorse or question they laid claim to me, and as their slave my actions were repugnant. My impulses and my outlook on life itself changed overnight and I no longer was the person my mother gave life to.
M O R E
To Suffer Is Human by Simon Logan

The world was a vile place, it seemed.
It was filled with evil, depraved and uncaring things. People, places, objects - they were all slowly catching this disease. One by one those who wanted to do good in the world, to change it for the better, were disappearing into the realm of Death, never to return, and two by two those who would encourage the corruption of life were taking their place. This world, our world was spiraling into a pit of blackness - and we did not care. All we saw were the handfuls of golden, shimmering lights that paved the way to the obsidian, like a trail of candy leading a child into a rapist's home. We ignored the everlasting, all-giving, all-caring light that floated like a sea above the darkness.
M O R E
Demigod by Diego

Quinn opened his eyes again, amazed at what he saw before him, but even more so at what had just occurred. Nine shots pierced the silence of the night and three of them hit their targets, although not exactly where they previously were intended. The body lay about five yards from him. A wisp of smoke, from the melted flesh, escaped the solitary cavity in the chest. Quinn just then realized the pain that came from his own two wounds. A hole was left through his right palm and his left calf oozed blood onto the rooftop.
M O R E
The Epic of A Suburban Teenage Malcontent by Trisha Hanudel

It's officially summer again and this one starts like the last one ended -- running from the scene. It's such a rush, your feet never hit the pavement too hard. Another night's work is done, really done, and done well, and you're trying to keep from letting free a maniacal laugh. You barely hear the voices shouting after you and your friends -- all you hear is the wind racing past your ear, rushing through your hair, and your urgent, shortened breath. Your spiked black combat boots are way too loud on the pavement -- either that or you're too paranoid for your own good.
M O R E

> G A M E S

Adrienne

Write about this picture
Join the current Storyline: This Guy and His Blah.
See the raw, exposed wits from last issue's Wit Challenge.
Take a challenge of words in our Poetry Devised.
Read and Review the Picture Poetry entries from last issue: Ankiewicz Picture Poetry.
Write a piece for one of our four pictures in the Adrienne Picture Poetry.
Join the Invitation List, the low-spam way to get the next issue
Sign the Guestbook;
Leave your mark.

> B O L T S

Adrienne for Hire

Write about this picture
Submission Guidelines
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Back Issues
About RoW
The Front Page

All Rustlings of the Wind: Animadversion Issue pages copyright © 1999 by Lorien Creatives. Page contents (poems, stories, artwork) copyright by their respective owners, as noted. All rights reserved.
No works in Rustlings of the Wind may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise without permission in writing from the copyright owner of the works.
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copyright (c) 1999 Adrienne Victor

>	B O L T S
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