Free Pounds

Category: Writing (page 1 of 2)

Deborah Akubudike

Photo by Josh Hild on Unsplash


I’m isolated. Not thinking; not screaming… just lost in my own thoughts.
Am I a thorn amongst lilies? The “precious” thread I’ve held for so long
chokes me till I vanish.
A virus I caught while holding on; unto a thread I thought would save me
it just wanted a taste of my pain.
Leaving me isolated alongside other convicts.
For I’m imprisoned in space for the choice that I made. I’m hospitalized
and as I stare at the doctors, they shake their heads slowly and sadly,
whispering gently, “There’s no cure… I’m sorry”.
Their voices sound faint, or is it my thought that’s fading?
Was it wrong that I touched one infected with love but now
I’m completely insane?
Is it fair that I hungered for passion and now I’m fed with anxiety and

For the doctors have no cure, yet my thoughts remain impure; and I
use the thread I grasped so tightly, to hang myself till I’m free; till I’m
reassured… ’till my pain is no more.

Is this me?
I know not really who is the next in line.
Who is willing to hold on to the thread… that thread – my dread.
Who is ready to be choked, till he can’t breathe, by love’s vines;
and be thrown down into hell’s busy quarantine.

I won’t consider it again… smirks.
‘Tis good to be finally free; ‘tis good to be me.

T. Marshall

Photo by David Emrich on Unsplash

The Market

Oh blessed totality
Oh holiest economy
Seems our branding is in symmetry
Sailing on the diamondish sea
Of empty black tranquility

Those postcards in the newspaper are always divination.
Dead end show flyer in a paperless nation.
Investors scream and shout in the ovation
Wrecked out in an ocean of meaningless stations.

There’s no you and there’s no me.
Seems our brand is in symmetry
Lowest gaze to a modern astrology
Drawing down the drowning in and on empty.

Stable ground was we guess not ours to have
Stolen from under us while you gnaw and lash
and at our treading tired ankle and calve.

Oh blessed commodity
Oh holiest economy
our magic brand slow sunk
Right into
the ever owned land

Alejandro Hilario

Photo by Allie Smith on Unsplash

The Last Word

Hello ______,

I am writing to say how much I loved your last book, ______. It was phenomenal. I didn’t read it, not the whole thing at least, but I didn’t have to. I’m going to be bold now and say in modern times, we don’t need to read WHOLE books anymore. Who has time for that? not the under-60 and New York City crowd. Long novels are a pre-smartphone understanding of entertainment. The greatest works of literature never tell anything to an audience, they always allude to more, and now that more never has to be written. It’s commonly understood among fans of horror films and strip clubs that the most potent source of fear is our own imagination. From the very last line of your novel, ______, I was hooked, I’ve read more book endings than anyone. I like to go to the bookstore and spend sunny afternoons reading the last paragraphs of hundreds of books. That is why I’m such a fan of your work, even the last typed word of ______ is perfect – like a bullet to the heart, or a nail gun to the hand.

This brings me to the point of my email. I’d like to propose, a new type of book, a collaboration between us, of just endings to novels that never need to be written. What words do we pay attention to? Someone’s dying words of course. This book will be like the last words of a dying poet summing up their whole life into the most important things they thought. A greatest hits album without all the filler of random songs the audience skips. If you are hesitant, just think of Morse Code, or the telegram. Did sailors sit in submarines at the bottom of the ocean, to intercept and listen to the beautiful rhythmic tapping of enemy ships? Was there an art to Morse code? It doesn’t matter because art has evolved, and so must we. 

As it is, I’d like to let you know that a lot of young people are using YouTube to not watch films, but the most emotional clips from films. Oftentimes it’s a street kitten being rescued into a forever home, or a favorite song mixed with an anime. Even more convenient are top ten lists. Anything can make us have that emotional connection we crave, like the wind through the trees, a cloudless sky, or a family soup nobody remembers how to make anymore. But to do it fast, check out the top ten saddest movie scenes on YouTube. I propose the same but with literature. 

I want to create a brand-new form of writing. With your connections in publishing and my knowledge of technical innovation, I know we can.

Thank you ______.

For faster communication feel free to text ______.



Caitlin Hayes

Fear of Love: The Irony

Imagine if we acknowledge that we need oxygen to breathe, but carry a value proposition that advises us not to believe it is our birthright to breathe oxygen. That we are unworthy of feeling safe in the fact that as we live, we may also breathe. We see how insane this proposition is. But so too with love, through our conditioning, we can believe that love is not our core of existence. We may see in the most extreme of situations where we believe love is a luxury and not our source of existence.

When we see love, deep true love, we may balk at it. May believe it is an illusion, or a trap. I present to you the alternative perspective. Love is life force. Love is the base of our energy exchange with all things and most importantly with the way we view ourselves. This factor alone can determine a persons aptitude for experiencing happiness, and potential for experiencing peace. So when we can see or glimpse real love we may then feel fear. Fear of the conditions of that love, fear of the veracity of that love, and fear of the harmonizing with that feeling of love, and fear that love itself doesn’t exist. Because to see true love and to become true love are two different ways to experience love. The first presumes you are separate, while the latter recognizes you, at your core of existence, are one with love. Any time we bring fear into a love equation we bring to the surface our limiting abilities to sync with love in our life. The miraculous flow of love that once we connect to completely, we embrace our existence completely.

So if someone tells you they love you, appreciate the affection, but understand deeply that this is truly the most valuable gift we can receive from another – acknowledgement of source, exchanged. Sharing the recognition that love at its core is the deepest way we can relate with ourselves and with another. This is because love is our purest existence. When we shutter from love, run away from those that we share love, we are allowing fear of lack of love (the deepest fallacy in our human condition) to deny you the experience of life. Because to experience love, deep true love, is to experience life.

Nigel Moses

Letting Go

Randomly, I’m steady daydreaming
When I think of you I’m cheesy
I’d like to think I stole your heart
It’s far from a fairy tale so you might not believe it
You probably don’t

You’re saying that you need to cut me out
but you probably can’t
Because life is bliss and you want to live it happily
And you’re stuck
and that’s probably what we might believe
Because chasing you is not my cup of tea
Rather get the key, unlock the cage
and let you be free

I play my cards
I need some spades
because I’ve had enough broken hearts
When you smile it’s like fireflies
Instead I fall in love
It’d be better if you love
Life is way too short to be feeling,
feeling low
Stop signs are on your heart
so I know you’re letting go

Letting go
Letting go
Letting go
Letting go