Articles written by Frankie Sunflower

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About me - Frankie Sunflower

I'm a five-foot-something country bumkin turned city bumpkin with a fat cat and a very self-assured attitude. I'm in college, I have a casual job at a lebanese takeaway and i really want a pet wombat. I'd also like a fruit bat, a carpet snake, a panda cub,

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: A lasting love: 1 of 63

We are the sunbeams of the sun We are two but we are one We are one but we are three We are you and we are me We can fly and never land We are the sea, we are the sand We are bound and we are free We are you and we are me We are tender, we are lost We are harmlessly besotted We are a broken, sobbing plea Are we you or are we...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Dark poems: 163 of 1148

ABUSIVE OR ADDICTED? I don't do it for the pain any more. I am no longer in pain. It is something else. It holds me down and makes me wonder if i really have moved on Or if i have just changed my thoughts on the subject. I have to use a razor because scissors and the kitchen knife won't work. Does it make me a pervert? Does ...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: For my child: 31 of 67

THE REDISCOVERY OF MY HIBERNATING INNOCENCE (THAT ONLY JUST WOKE UP) The other day i found a boy Useless, really, given he was a toy Eyes like toffee, hair like night, When he turned up he gave me a fright. "Who are you?" i dared to say "I'm you", he said, and offered to play.
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: For children: 94 of 201

THE MONSTROUS PRINCE In a land far, far away from here, there lived a very handsome prince. He was tall. And elegant. He had hair like the depths of the sea and eyes that were pale like the sky in mid-afternoon. But his heart was a cold place; it was darkened and shriveled with selfishness and greed and vanity. The vain prin...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Struggle in life: 486 of 828

CARPARK Yellow lines On gray concrete In the Civic Center Car park Pouncing from yellow line To yellow line Sometimes i must struggle to reach the next line across Sometimes i must walk on the gray But i don't mind That's life.
Creative Writing > Humor Humor: Childhood: 59 of 78

My mother once told me that she could remember the time when all I ever smelled like was dirt and chocolate. I didn't tell her, but i remembered too, perhaps better than she did. I remember this friend i had who taught me lots of things to do that usually involved NOT doing as parents had instructed and usually ended up in o...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Shopping: 18 of 22

Anna-bear was small and sweet With her own little chair in the passenger seat It's good that she was so petite So the shopping-bags didn't have too far to fall when she dropped them on my feet.
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Nightmares: 83 of 94

TENTACLES Surrounded by thin, wet, clingy, brittle vines, tentacles, ropes, things that bind and never let go. Things that pull me down to where i can't breathe, tighten around my stomach, my head, slithering between my eyes and my eye sockets, crawling up my pajama pant leg. It's so dark. I cannot see. I don't know where th...