Where to go?

Story Links & News
Full Fiction Credits
SCV Fiction Index
Unlikely Times - odd news & connections

Poetry Links & News
Full Poetry Credits
SCV Poetry Index
Unfuture Chronicle - weird science & writing

Home
My eBooks
Film
Other

My travels (Google map)
Interview
Contact Me

HitRecord
twitter
deviantArt
facebook
YouTube
FictionMags Index
ISFDB Index
Zazzle
Books & Chaps
Book of Tentacles
Improbable Jane
BLANK SPACES and other dangers
Afterlife 9
Year of the Twist
the Other secret house
Peripheral Visions
insomnia f/x
If you enjoy my work, consider making a donation.
Paypal makes it easy!

Every $ will help me find time to write more. Thanks!


Scott Virtes - Writing
Home: Afterlife 9
My eBooks-- Read stories for free-- Read poems for free


Afterlife 9, by s.c.virtes
A trip through some twisted afterlives, as told in a set of interlocking poems.
Graphics & design by s.c.virtes.

Published Feb 2006 by Scott Virtes;
Kindle edition: available here for $1.99.
PDF edition: available on DriveThruFiction (Pay What You Want).

Sample: "trampling feet"

He awoke to trampling feet
     the whole street was aflight

Screams from Shakespeare,
     curses from comic books @#$!

They ran from the machines
     which thundered down from the air

Sample: "too many heartbeats"

I went inside a building, but only once:
they were huge height-bent towers
     rising like fingers
     almost grasping the sun in a fist.
and inside, even in the quietest corner,
there were too many heartbeats;
it became a mad symphony.

The BEAT
       BEAT 
       BEAT rising
       BEAT falling
       BEAT 
       BEAT sweaty
       BEAT feeling
       BEAT
       BEAT followed me for days.

As much as I needed someone,
these millions are just too much,
ever motion, can't make sense of it!

I steal a pillow from a hospital
     so I can hide my head.


About the vision:

We have many lives, all rolled together, like "artistic life", "social life", "professional life", etc. Some of them are real, some philosophical. Some are just expressions, or are they? I often heard that if your social life dies, you need to move to "the big city", but big cities give me the creeps. And if you're stuck in a rotten job, is the daily grind any kind of life? This set of poems starts with a social life ending, and a set of wild and crazy afterlife visions. It started back in 1988 as a batch of music for a mostly imaginary garage band, and has gone through real deaths and dying publishers, to finally see the light of day in 2006.

Reviews:

coming soon