rickmillen's profile

rickmillen avatar
AGE: 55
LOC: Duluth, MN
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: August 25

Greetings, one and all! I am first and foremost a musician, a guitar player since the age of thirteen, until a minor stroke in 2006 which more or less rendered my left hand useless for guitar playing, or typing for that matter. But I’ve always loved to write--songs, poems, stories, and since the stroke, I have focused more on writing, and presently have finished one novel, have two in the works, not to mention manuscripts of poetry, and song lyrics. I have also written a book of esoteric theology regarding ancient mysteries, UFOs, cryptozoology, and psychic phenomena. I love the English language and all its ambiguities and attempt to write as though I am painting a picture--I also paint watercolors, sketch, and  do collage. I enjoy pho…

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Items
Flash Fiction / Mad Dog Phone Call
Version 1
2 Reviews   0 Comments
That crazy dog is driving me out of my mind. It is a short drive, I know, but is this trip really necessary? It is getting so that I cannot even sit down for fear of her surprise thumbtacks and whoopie cushions, like the secret teeth and tongue of an overstuffed armchair. I am talking about my neighbor's stupid dog: That scrawny excuse of one man's best friend that yips and yaps and hypertrots around the block like a child's mechanical toy in heat--the dog that is playing all these practical...
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Flash Fiction / There Was An Old Lady Who Lived In A Pew
Version 1
1 Review   0 Comments
Her name was Violet. She was 77 years old. She had been living in the pew for nearly two weeks. She had no place else to go. "How wonderful to see you, Violet." Mrs. White hugged her briefly and kissed her pale cheek. "How are you?" "I've been lonely," said Violet. "Oh, look at the time! I have to run, dear. Take care." It was a beautiful pew. Elaborate panels depicting the life of Christ were set in its massive oak sides. Violet loved to run her gnarled hands along the polished surface of t...
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Flash Fiction / Gorilla Memory
Version 1
1 Review   1 Comment
P.O.E.T.S. Day was an end-of-the-week joke that allegedly originated in the Urology department. From there it spread like a disease to the other levels of the hospital, eventually coloring our conversations even in the hallowed surgical units on the seventh floor.It meant Friday, the day when everyone's attitude seemed to be, "Piss on everything, tomorrow's Saturday!" That particular P.O.E.T.S. Day the surgery schedule had been the bare bones of what it usually was, with no real flesh and bl...
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Flash Fiction / Sound Asleep
Version 1
0 Reviews   0 Comments
Micky did not understand it,nor could he have explained it, but he had wakened inside his dream. That is, he was fully awake--of that he had no doubt--yet he was dreaming.He was ten feet in the air, flying over Grandma's driveway. Arms stretched out before him,belly down, his legs trailing behind him, like on the Superman TV show. He was flying! He was in the air, moving along like a helium-filled balloon in the breeze. So, he knew he was dreamig. He had to be.He was not able to fly when he ...
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Poetry / strange fire
Version 1
1 Review   0 Comments
at night the memory of you smoulders within me like the remains of some strange fire built long ago it is a curious feeling sometimes in the still of the night I cry out frightened and confused feeling like a child who is not quite awake and yet not asleep alone in the shadows drifting helplessly between alternate worlds of dreams and realities in the darkness of my universe the embers of this strange fire become a galaxy of sad stars lighting my way
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Reviews
Journal, Diary, & Blogging / Delightfully Dotty to Emlyn Nardone
by chickiemcweird
This piece is an absolute delight! From beginning, "I am going crazy. Again." to, "Others are a minefield of emotional entanglement." I especially loved the reference to the character's inedible baking which she desires to perpetrate on someone. The way in which the story is written makes the reader feel as though it is a letter written for them personally. I emphasized with the loss of a loved one and understand how such an event can be hated, to the point of not being able to visit the grav...
Poetry / Fade To Black.
by candice
Interesting piece. Good descriptions, with fire being an excellent metaphor of the emotional turmoil involved in this failing relationship. The ending is somewhat confusing. The reader's emotional response would be better if the cheating partner were further delineated. I like the title of this poem.
Flash Fiction / Humanizing Hemingways
by chickiemcweird
Good story. I especially enjoyed the dream descriptions. "...even to those from whom she remained adrift..." is confusing. I loved the "elemental gypsy" and was angry with the male character's mistreatment of her. I did not care at all for the expressiom, "the asshole of Hell..." Not that I would censor the author, but that is an ugly phrase in an otherwise beautiful story. It was sad to read of this couple's uncoupling. I would like to see a sequel in which the heroine finds the exact opposi...
Poetry / Treatment
by MarylebonePoet
This piece excellently captures the uncomfortable feeling sometimes experienced during a physical examination. Good descriptions and well conveys the patient's feeling of hopelessness and low self esteem resulting from her condition. The line, "How capable those bare hands are?" is rather awkward. Perhaps, "How capable are those bare hands?" would be more apt.
Poetry / dreaming without the key
by learningtodream
Nice poem. In the forth stanza, 'that' should be 'that's'. The transition from "dreaming without the key" to "dreaming with the key" is somewhat confusing. What is the key? The conclusion of this piece clarifies things a bit, but leaves the reader wondering, what is the key?
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