Preditors & Editors

The year-end polling results are now official, and once again I've finished in the Top 10 in both the Poet and Poem categories:

Thanks for your support!

Implexity

Coming soon from my new self-publishing label, Purple Prosaic, a collection of my poetry entitled (of course) Implexity. It will be available as an ebook through Lulu, and in paperback through Amazon (CreateSpace). A hardcover collector edition will also be available for special order, which I'll happily sign.

Tentative release in mid-October 2009. Stay tuned!

Is it?

Is it still called love
when familiarity turns
voice into white
noise,
when every opinion
is taken as criticism
and every compliment
as apology?

Is it still called
love
when support
is sought from sources
distant
that was once
breath's breadth
away?

Is it still
called love when scores
are kept and bottom
lines drawn in shifting sands,
when the sound
of one more promise
draws not hope
but fear?

Is it
still called love?

Is it?


* * *

wither (visually)

A visual representation by my swirlfriend! I'm going to make a poster of it for my bedroom wall. :)



Edited to add: POSTER!

Two-Thirds

Two-Thirds is now available as an ebook.

Below are the public comments received on Literotica, when the story was posted as part of its 2009 Valentine's Contest:

"Unbelievable"
01/21/09 by Anonymous
No, no, no, now I understand why you've been going around giving everyone a 5 score hoping that they'd give you one, too, Imp. What was that? That was your Valentine's Day story? Have you lost your mind? Don't you know what Valentine's Day is about? If I was someone who never heard of Valentine's Day and read your story to explain to me what Valentine's Day was about, I'd go buy a laptop and surf the net for porn. "What are you doing, Honey? You've been up in your room on your laptop surfing porn." "I'm celebrating Valentine's Day." You're punishment for submitting this story is that must skip a turn and cannot enter the next theme contest. "Unbelievable."

---

after the first flush
01/21/09 by Anonymous in South Africa
Bitter-sweet, and really nicely written. I wish there were more stories about what happens after happily-ever-after.

This is certainly well written.
01/21/09 by Anonymous
But what's the point? Where's the story? Nothing really happened. Nothing was resolved. Nothing changed these characters. It left me flat.

well written
01/21/09 by Anonymous in Texas
Phenomenally sad, and unfortunately completely plausible, but well-written. That marriage is already dead, waiting for the coroner/judge to make the pronouncement. -- KK in Texas
Well I liked it
01/21/09 by Anonymous in UK
I liked the writing. Love is sweet however it can turn sour. Kess could have done more to sweeten her cause. Liked the fact she still managed to get off (last paragraph) I like a girl with imagination; that's assuming good sex is 80% in the mind. Read some of you poems too...very good
Well written
01/21/09 by Mz_minx in UK
It made me a bit teary-eyed, I felt liek reaching out and giving Kess a huge hug. I agree with KK in Texas on the first part of their comment, but have to diasgree that the marriage is over. Sometimes communication can end up exactly what you need but the last thing you feel like doing - if Kess was a friend of mine I'd urge to try and discuss how she is feeling with her husband. Ah well, it's just a story and I'm rambling ;) Good luck in the contest too!
Horrifying story
01/21/09 by bruce22 in South America
But well written and er,worthy of our attention. Poor Tess, she should have pulled out a dildo and masturbated instead of drinking the liquor. ///two-thirds of what?
very artistic
01/21/09 by PositiveThinker
I must give you credit. This was a very artistic story and even though you didn't develop your characters as much as I feel the need to do with my stories, I received a lot of imagery from reading yours. Good luck in the contest.

Wonderful writing
01/21/09 by starrkers
You show so much in so few words. But I kind of feel it's cheating to call it a Valentine's story.

Unsatisfying
01/21/09 by PrincessErin
A sad story which was very well written. Valentine's Day doesn't have to be romantic.

I liked it...
01/21/09 by KillerRomance
Yes, I thought that is was rather REAL, and appropriate for the 21st century V-day. Good luck in the contest! <3>

Almost too true
01/21/09 by DG Hear
You wonder how many real relationships are like this. Sad but True. Good luck in the contest. DG

Another.
01/21/09 by TwoHOTFORU69 in USA
Another good story, but taking a different direction/liked it though as it was like the truth in so many marriages in the last 20 years or so.! Hope the Judges like it as much as I did. '5' and thanks.

---

Very well written
01/22/09 by Boxlicker101
and sad, but also realistic. I have to wonder why she married the guy in the first place if he has always been like that. Good luck in th contest.
a beautiful work.
01/22/09 by magicmouth69 in USA
Truly the story touches me. It speaks of something both tragic and real.
I don't think . . .
01/23/09 by Nirvanadragones
I've ever cried after reading a blow-job scene . . . So much emotion. An angle and perspective I am sure many can relate to. Thank you for writing it. It's much better than stereotypical Valentine's day melodrama.
dark story
01/24/09 by Anonymous in Canada
it speakes to too many failing/failed relationships. For such a short story it spoke volumes. Thank you for something atypical in this website. A wonderfully dark contrast to the usual.
cheating!
01/24/09 by Anonymous
This shouldn't be a contest submission. You fall into the cynical group that uses a brief mention to worm in for publicity. Also, the story is unbelievable because you give no light and shade - she is loving and wronged and he is just a porn-surfing shithead. So why is he there? As someone else said, there is no tension here because there is no progress - the end is the same as the beginning and, with the lack of development, why should we care?
Happens all too often
01/28/09 by Anonymous in USA
I was taken in by your read because it is all too familiar! Not only to me, but to other women as well. In the world of "corporate America lunch table talk with the girls", this is all too common & not often addressed. I applaud you! Adrraiya
Very sad
02/05/09 by Saucyminx in USA
and perfectly lovely. Thank you.

Brilliant
02/08/09 by past_perfect
Reality sucks sometimes (pun intended), and you manage to transport that feeling perfectly. Kudos, this is an excellent piece. Good luck in the contest.

Too Depressing
02/08/09 by DecadentAngel
Alessia, I normally enjoy your stories. However, this one just didn't do it for me. I guess part of it is that it doesn't fit my idea of a Valentine's story. I don't want to read about a failing marriage with mediocre sex for Valentine's day. I lived that enough in my own marriage. Of course, your writing is excellent as usual. I can't fault you for that at all. Had you followed the parameters of the contest, I would have scored you higher. As it is, you failed to meet the theme criteria.

beautifully sad...
02/11/09 by Chloewaits in canada
It was very poignant, and touching. I felt drawn in to her despair, and even hope. I thought you captured the ambivalence and conflicting desires beautifully. Great story

Preditors & Editors

The year-end polling results are now official, and once again:

everybody's hero



Thanks for your support!

everybody's hero

an errant knight, shining rogue
e'er ready with chivalric sinew
to shelter or defend or buoy
through flirtatious charm

a damsel wondering
wandered into his demesne
intrigued by the valor
of emotional pas d'armes

dwelling in his heart's caisteal
she now withers on the inside
waiting for what's available
only to those on the out

and she wonders
if she should wander
in search of a soul
upon which to lean

or summon the will to e'er stand
and watch with sorrowful pride
as he strives to be
everybody else's hero

~ ~ ~

Lovin' This!

LISTEN!

Lefty McGee

I'm really starting to believe this man breathes poetry. Here are two of his "blurts" from Literotica:

(1)

There was a momentary pause,
the phone rang but she missed it...

The opportunity cost of missing that call,
was the sound of his voice caressing her
in ways that seem gentle,
at times.
But there is a timbre to his voice
that vibrates her thoughts
and her body,
that mixes the pleasure of the moment
with the pain of separation.
Bittersweet melody of a memory
as his words guide her hands in ways
mostly sensual, defined as erotic,
and certainly not sensible,
she finds herself sensitive to the touch.

What could have, would have.
Perhaps the phone will ring again…

(2)

I know nothing of the world you two are sharing. The slow words about nothing as you speak more with silence and hidden smiles. The suffering of the touch that is almost but not quite there in every word. The hidden thoughts of despair when you are unable to speak, and relive old conversations to pass the time until the next call. And each laugh you hear is an epiphany of emotion, love, lust. Innocuous though the words may be, all too soon each thought borders or embraces decadence. There are no secrets, no unknown desires, no hidden agendas when you fulfill your wishes and meet in person. Just the silent sounds of clothing as it puddles on the floor, until the first gasps for air some hours later...

Like I said, I know nothing of the world you share. But I have heard...

~ ~ ~

I'm so honored to have some of his work in Coming Together.

30 Seconds

One of the first stories I ever posted on Literotica. It's journal-style 1st/2nd person, but if you can forgive that, the rest is still decent ...

30 Seconds
© Alessia Brio

~ Friday evening, 9:00 p.m.

Our group is jovial, enjoying the camaraderie that typically characterizes such gatherings. There is plenty of laughter, occasionally interspersed with serious threads of conversation about pressing issues. We've been at the restaurant for a couple hours already, running the poor waiter ragged with our random orders for food and drink.

He can't figure us out. We're a diverse mix, and he wonders what we have in common. You can tell by the tentative way in which he approaches us.

You and I are seated across from one another in the semicircular corner booth. Currently, there are four at our table, including the two of us, although that number has fluctuated throughout the evening, further frazzling the waiter. Oh, well. It's his job. We'll make sure he gets a handsome tip.

The talk turns to movie favorites, but I'm not really listening. I'm watching you. I'm watching your mouth, your hands, and your eyes. I'm thoroughly enjoying thoughts of just what you could do to me – and, conversely, what I'd like to do to you.

You have intrigued me since the moment we met, several years ago. I feel this overwhelming desire to just be with you, in any context – in person or online, in dull committee meetings or lively social settings, in your thoughts or my dreams. It's an ache that I am powerless to resist. You excite me, incite me, invite me, delight me. I can't get enough.

~ Friday evening, 9:40 p.m.

One of our party is leaving – the one seated between us – and as you rise to let her pass, several others return. You sit back down and scoot around the bench to make room for the additions, which brings us together quite cozily. Our thighs are touching, and the contact makes me shiver.

For a few moments, I can focus on nothing beyond that delicious contact. It's too infrequent, and it's far, Far, FAR too chaste. Innocence aside, I know I will feel your leg against mine for quite some time after the contact is broken. You have that effect on me. I have vivid memories of every instance we have touched – casual hugs hello or goodbye, fingers touching inadvertently when passing the salt, shoulders rubbing in the cinema. It's all I have of you, in the physical sense, so I treasure these moments – and I want more.

Your voice brings me back to Earth, "Hey! What in the world are you thinking?"

"Sorry. Just daydreaming," I stammer, feeling as if my thoughts are on display for all to see.

"Must've been good. You're blushing," says the guy to my left, which results in a rather lively and risqué discussion of fantasies in general. I get a few tantalizing hints about your preferences in a lover, and I file them away. If and when I ever get the opportunity to get you off, I'll have a better idea how to thoroughly please you. I've a few ideas of my own, as well. I'm pretty sure you'll like them.

At one point, after realizing that we share a somewhat unusual desire, you throw your arm around me and tease, "Let's go get a room!" Mmmmmm. Had we been alone, I may very well have answered with quite a bit more enthusiasm than you were expecting. Instead I just grin at you, hoping that you can read the invitation in my eyes.

One of these days, I vow to myself, I'm going to get over my fear and tell you precisely what I want to do for/with/to you. Consequences be damned! You'll either respond in kind, or never speak to me again. Either way, this torture will end.

~ Friday evening, 10:55 p.m.

After another hour or so, things begin to break up. Damn! I hate the thought of separating. My senses are heightened by the prolonged contact, and I feel an intense pang as it is broken. There is just something so cosmically RIGHT when we're together – and it is amplified when we touch.

I don't want the evening to end, but we each have plans for early Saturday morning. We divvy up the tab, everyone tossing a couple twenties on the table and leaving it for the waiter to sort out. It's more than enough, undoubtedly, even with a generous tip. I would pay five times that much for the pleasure of sitting so close to you for a few more hours.

As the others peel away to their cars, you ask if I'd like to take a stroll through the park to clear our heads before driving. Of course, I'd say yes even if my head was not in need of clearing – just to be with you a while longer. As it stands, we've each had several drinks and neither of us is feeling any pain.

The park is virtually deserted at this time of night, although we pass a few couples holding hands or making out on the benches along the secluded path. We walk without speaking, but without any trace of the awkwardness that silence can sometimes bring. Occasionally, your hand brushes mine – and I want to grasp it.

~ Friday evening, 11:20 p.m.

"Tell me," you say, breaking the silence, "what you most want. Not for anyone else – just for yourself."

My inhibitions lulled by the spirits, I blurt, "I want to kiss you. And I want to touch you. And I want to taste you." Instantly, I am certain I've just thoroughly and irreparably fucked up our precious friendship.

Time stops. You are staring at me, seemingly stunned. I am paralyzed – like a deer in the headlights.

In the kind of slow motion you only see in movies, we draw closer to one another. The unmistakable recognition of shared passion passes between us, palpable and magnetic.

Our mouths meet as if they are made to be together. Our tongues dance. Our hands explore. Your low groan as my hands grab your ass is so incredibly enticing. Every nerve ending is alive.

"We can't do this," you say, pulling away slightly. You sound as if your head is trying to convince your heart – and not succeeding.

"I know. But please, don't wake me up just yet," I plead. "Let me dream for just 30 seconds – then we'll stop, okay?"

Your response is to pull me in for another exquisite kiss. Your hands move under my shirt. My nipples are aching for your touch and your teeth. I snake my hand into your pants and am swept away by your evident desire. We are so close to the edge. So close.

Somehow, as if a cosmic timer went off, we manage to stop. It takes a phenomenal pull to disengage, so strong is the magnetism. Without a word, we resume our journey along the path – both lost in our thoughts about what just transpired – both still at the heights of arousal.

~ Friday evening, 11:30 p.m.

I finally work up the nerve to speak. "Not to sound cliché, but how can anything that felt that right, be wrong? Do you feel guilty?"

"I know I should, but I don't – and that is disturbing in and of itself."

I had no response to that, as I am torn between my desire for you and my desire for you to be true to your ideals.

"I need to sort this out in my mind," you explain. "It's been there a very long time, but we've crossed a line this evening."

"I understand," I respond, and I really try to do so. With our bodies on fire, it's not easy for either of us. I know you would never intentionally hurt me, and I know you want me every bit as much as I want you.

"Before we go though," you add, wrapping your arms around me once more, "I need another 30 seconds."

~ ~ ~

Ah, the complexities of adulthood
10/12/04 By: [deleted user]
A story for adults. Subtle, sexy, alluring, perhaps even true?

Oh my gosh!
12/05/04 By: lalai
I felt I was there. Sexy! :)

This one is ...
12/07/04 By: foehn
*magnificent*
how about changing your user-name, now?

sorry, couldn't find anything higher than 100 ...

Intriguing and complex
02/12/05 By: BlackShanglan
I really enjoyed this story for reasons that to be honest, I can't entirely put my finger on. It's subtle, complex, and provoking. After a short "hmmm" period pondering the lack of concrete physical images, I found my puzzlement turning to grudging acceptance and then slowly to impressed appreciation. This is a story with a long, complex finish, to graft on some wine terminology - a story to be savored and rolled smoothly over the palate, letting its richness and depth really penetrate. Marvelous work.

30 seconds?
02/15/05 By: Anonymous
wow that was a damn good tale,
I agree magnificent, fabulous and ...
Impressive! I see a zen master write here
bows humbled, honored to read your words
hehehe >>> great story ...
I needed the muse

Provocative
02/16/05 By: neonlyte
My kind of story. Full of subtlty and promise, an aching desire powerful enough to tip the scales.

Well done.

I too agree.
02/16/05 By: Bridget69 in Canada
Such a deep, subtle tale of repressed urges, desire, anticipation and fleeting moments of intimacy. Loved it!

Good one imp.
03/01/05 By: rgraham666 in Canada
Such a nicely told tale of want and brief satisfaction.

Well done.

This nails it
03/23/05 By: Anonymous in Margaritaville
so much resonance here. So many things I identify with in the dangers they are contemplating. Wonderful. You are a dangerous and devine writer with way too many keys to so many of my locked doors.

You have written what I feel towards someone
04/19/06 By: Anonymous in USA
You have managed to capture my feelings towards a certain someone on paper! I loved your story, it really hits home! The person that I want and desire in my life is off-limits to me but I know (as does he) that we are perfect for each other.

Thank you for sharing!

Wow!
12/21/06 By: SimonBrooke in Scotland
That's just perfect. And so different from what I expected from the title. And, indeed, much, much sexier.

Here's to the Imp!

The mind is the sexiest organ...
03/09/07 By: amicus in Oregon
A most enjoyable foray into a writing device one might be tempted to experiment somewhere down the road. The introspective first person narrative, the fantasy over time, the dreams the imagination and then the long awaited event finally about to occur.

I do question where, in a couple places, you referred to him as 'you', which felt to mean like a shift to omniscient POV and stepped away from the first person.

And being a bit old fashioned and admitting it, I was a little put off by your ass grabbing and the hand down the pants so early in the relationship since you had been so reluctant to initiate contact prior to him sitting next to you and touching thighs.

Be that as it may, a thoughtful piece and well down and thoroughly enjoyable...thank you...


amicus...

~ ~ ~

Where

And where are you
as I crumble;
as I teeter on this emotional
abyss?

Wait!
Don't answer.
That's not the important
question.

I doesn't matter where
you are.
What matters is where
you aren't.

So,
why aren't you with me?

~ ~ ~

* Apologies for the self-indulgent crap. I'm having a breakdown today, TYVM.

Sunday Mornings

I sigh on Sunday
mornings, dawning clear
cold with realization
that my life
be not as it should
and my love
be not as it could

emptiness lies
where once lived trust
and armor guards
against its return
scars of bleeding hope
a constant ache
in my hollow whole

the shroud is heavy
yet it skins my wounds
and I wonder if ever
without it I'll walk
again

I awake with a start
and start with a sigh
crying not for what is felt
but feeling what is not
on Sunday mornings

~ ~ ~

Thank you!

~ ~ ~

Preditors & Editors Polling

The year-end polls are up, and yours truly is again nominated. Last year, both I and my poem Tapestry finished in the Top 10.

Please visit the site and cast your votes in the following categories:

Poet published in 2007...
Alessia Brio [ VOTE HERE ]

Poem published in 2007...
forked [ VOTE HERE ]

Thanks, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

~ ~ ~

Past Perfect

Past Perfect was accepted for publication by Torquere Press and Clean Sheets. It also appears in Coming Together: With Pride.

* * *

December

A poem I wrote for a December-themed contest on Literotica's Poetry Forum. It bombed there ... with a resounding *thud* Can you identify all of the December events it references?

Hark how the silver celled
slay balls ring
'round the rosy viral garland
white ribbons and yellow massacre
for whom the death tolls

an immaculate concept, imagine
there's no pearled harbor
full of tea or Bulged battle
as a creamed cigar flickers
in the menorah of velvet revolution

impeachy secession, schnapping the chain
reaction of a nuclear bus boycott
while a bull sits no more
and an ear hears naught
the screams over Lockerbie

brothers take flight, wrapped
in the twelve daze of candied caning
one Pole effected, another elected
and a mad monk sunk
in the river of impunity

press passed and Bhopal gassed
amnesty for the civilly warred
and freedom for the civilly whored
frequency spans the waves
wireless words celebrating

the son and the seven
the Sagittarian solstice
and the year's sunset
lest history disremember
December

~ ~ ~

EPPIE Finalists Announced!

WOOT! Phaze in Verse is an EPPIE finalist in the Poetry category. I have half a dozen poems in this collection.

For the complete list of finalists, visit the EPIC site. (If that doesn't work, Emily Veinglory's posted the full list on the EREC blog.) Winners will be announced at EPICon in March. Hope to see you there!

forked

so scream the choices, the choices
made with every breath
drawn
to hold and to having, hide
the depth, the breadth
of forever's façade

so scream the choices, while promises
made on whispered breath
echo heart's desire
to have and to holding, shout
with enough integrity
to love me out loud

~ ~ ~

a poster of this poem is available

~ ~ ~

CANDY!

Work begins today on this collaborative effort ... as does the search for a publisher (ebook & print):