Paul Stewart
Bio
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!
Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!
Achievements (33)
Stories (1360)
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Mors Invicta: Remembered Only as Footnotes
Unsheathed, my blade shone like the moon on the darkest eve as the sun rose above me. Though it had yet to meet the entrails of the beasts that threatened peace and sanity, my hands were bathed in the blood of legions.
By Paul Stewart31 minutes ago in Fiction
John and Paul's Three-Word Haiku/Senryu Unofficial Challenge - The Results!
Well, fuck. That was every bit as impressive as I was sure it would be when we set this devious challenge. From this point forward it is worth noting that all the bracketed bits will be John's words, and the non-bracketed are mine.
By Paul Stewartabout 23 hours ago in Writers
100 Top Stories and Other Accidents
On March 9th, an entry I published for the "Everyone Is Acting Normally" Challenge, Silken Chains, was awarded a Top Story. I was delighted. For various reasons. It is one of my best-written stories, and it helped me achieve another Vocal milestone.
By Paul Stewart4 days ago in Writers
Bridge Over River Mortem . Content Warning.
Overhead, orange-tinged skies, warm my cold heart. It was a good day. Three days in a row we had glorious sunshine, with not a spot of rain. The mood among the people I met on my daily commute was one of optimism and hope.
By Paul Stewart7 days ago in Fiction
Pornographic Venn Diagramming
It's all performative, all damned to death and back. Born we are into this system of crippled development. Portrayed as enlightenment, but the reality is anything but. . I have long rallied against such realities, despite the burial of my past innocence, forgotten sanctity. . I wrote down some thoughts: . Well hallelujah Spread thin Tongue twisting tautogrammic takes of trauma and triumph Male shame and toxicity mixed with a little alienation and Oh oh the resentment Wafer thin . Xenophobia and the hardened husk of hatred and illegitimate anger and distrust we have become . . Desperation . . The secret language of the sextape . . Pornographic Venn diagramming . The shame, oh the . Shame? . Generation after generation closed off and colder . Heart unresponsive as the irresponsible as the moral vocal cords for the majority . . Minorities kerbed, chided . . We become the grotesque we loathe . . All our yesterdays forgotten The abstract replaces the grounded In an instant . . We become the loathsome grotesque . . All our tomorrows forgotten The grounded replaces the pure In an instant . . We become the grotesque we loathe . . I have become that which I hate. As I bring down the hammer of the gods of inconsequence and their wards, the stupid and stationary, I feel the shame. . . Shame? . . Slàinte. . . Merci beaucoup Oui, oui Ventus, ventus. . . Lilith adores. Diana engorges the might of Artemis and the cynicism of Perseus. . . As I look to the mirror and dismay shoots through like a sgian-dubh of truth, claidheamh-mòr, I lift my Lochaber axe and punish the impure because I dare not face my own. Targe laid down. The dirk plunges into my neck by the phantom of reason. . . Fire. Fire. Fire. . . Water. Ice. . . Novocaine. . . Any D&D players available.
By Paul Stewart8 days ago in Poets
