Joe O’Connor

Joined February 2023

82 stories

Bio

New Zealander

English teacher

Short stories and poems📚

Please be honest- I would love your constructive feedback, as it's the only way I'll get better. Would rather it was pointed out so I can improve!

Currently writing James The Wonderer

Achievements (9)

Stories (82)

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Lead me to the land of the long white cloud
Crux, the sky canoe. Anchor our place on the map, I know I am home. ------------------------- Author's notes: Aotearoa is the official name of New Zealand in Māori, the native language. In English it translates to mean 'The land of the long, white cloud.'
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets
Today I sat down with my friend for lunch
Today I sat down with my friend for lunch, and we began to talk about cancer. But rather than mention of tumours we spoke of how it feels to not know the answer.
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets
panic
Reaching for something to hold, shaky hands grasp empty space instead edges begin to blur and shake, hazy and dim as colours fade to grey
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets
Chagrin . Top Story - October 2024.
My skeleton turns ice cold and shatters while my cheeks absorb its heat, A bone-splinter windchime fraternizes with the reverberating laughter.
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets
First
Fingers tap-tap on the table, edge closer, then intertwine, two into one, as his hazel eyes scan her; a twirl of hair, a bitten lip, a nervous smile, then she
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets
Lament for life.. Top Story - September 2024.
She's still talking, her mouth is moving, but it's all become meaningless to me, The world is paused, through welling tears - I want to believe it's conspiracy.
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets
An hour to rush
Screeching metal casts me, into a whirl of faces I stumble through the crowd, wanting out of these busy places Lead me away, from horns and chatter and glare
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets
Still I Wander
Still wandering after hours, through fallen leaves and tired trees I cannot help but marvel at the unseen hand that molded these
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets
You were blind, but now you see . Top Story - September 2024.
Late. Always late. You curse your past self and the snoozed alarms, dashing across the street. Shirt untucked, cuffs loose, tie crammed into a half-shut briefcase, unbrushed hair caught in the wind.
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Psyche
Sanctuary unclaimed
Still the saints are waiting, patient hands outstretched to greet, In the cold cloth of stone enshrined. Looking for the step of humble feet, the gentle murmur of penitent lips, or
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets
A place to lay her head. Runner-up in L*pogram Challenge. Top Story - August 2024.
The others all leave the place of pages, every day when the clock says seven. They can go home you see. Back to parents and a mum and a dad and hot food and enough sleep and no sounds and a real bed. That's what they have, and what she wants.
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Fiction
Fight and flight
Don't tell me to "be rea-son-a-ble" We weren't meant to be seasonal. You time-wasting, lust-chasing, lie-making, heart-breaking,
By Joe O’Connorabout a year ago in Poets