K.B. Silver
Bio
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
Achievements (8)
Stories (472)
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School Choice is Desegregation. Top Story - June 2025.
My high school was ranked 32nd in the entire country during my attendance. Of course, those numbers are based on test scores and matriculation rates. When you walked the halls of Fort Myers Senior High School, you could feel the racial tensions and the weight of history pressing down. In fact, if you just walked the halls, you could see it on display.
By K.B. Silver 7 months ago in The Swamp
What Slips in Through the Lines
Entering the darkened cavern of my reverie ([dropping all pretense of covering or paint] {stripping years} and presumption away). Snow starts falling* and drops the temperature* even during the day. Trudging in and out… waiting for breaks in the precipitation… to drag the logs back… or the warmth might die away. Even though I refill the fuel — the thermometer keeps dropping day after day — I start to fade away until finally — the sticks stop crackling. My pointless drudgery has inched to an end. Quietly coming to a state of solidity. My fingers fall on an open pad with pencil & paper /kindling\ to restore hardened hide to softened life. Steam slowly hissing off of pale speckled flesh. In the dancing sparks; as they fly off of me: One could almost swear they see fairies “dart and weave” touching every tiny hair and freckle > leaping in through the birthmark on my leg. Filling me with warmth and energy. Enough to stand and make it through! The words start pouring out of me~ in a shuddering uncertain pump action: : like a sputtering bloody cough. Force building to a blow, revealing the source:::: like a cancer that had been growing unknowingly in the pit of my lungs % waiting to burst and be released. With every word I expel<* more wickedness stored inside me gets torched away by the ignited fae “*” burning with passion fluttering inside me =clearing the way= until they escape in a cloud of burning hot air. Taking with them the last of the condensation clinging to my interior. I am left with words _-=stenciled all over the walls of this cave=-_ in blackened soot. There is a poisonous bile”,, dripping from the holes in reality,, created by the shadows”,, of the 2D”,, letters,, when the sun goes down”,, each night, that can be co’’llected, bu”t don’t let’’ it touch your skin, you wil”l be permanently driven m’’,,ad…”,,
By K.B. Silver 7 months ago in Poets
Salt in The Wound
I was recently fortunate enough to discover Vocal legends Celia and River while looking for new poetry publications on Medium. It was an article calling for submissions to include in an anthology on Justice and equality. I immediately dug up the requisite three poems and sent them off. I am pleased to announce you can purchase the “Salt in the Wound” Anthology on June 19th. You can follow River and Celia’s blog and/or Vocal page for updates on Pricing and purchase location.
By K.B. Silver 7 months ago in Writers
Cursed
Allegra sat at her desk covered in growing stacks of paperwork and fidget toys, trying to keep to herself and keep to her work. As she sat fiddling with her purple pencil, Sabrina, the director's new-ish assistant, pushed a cart filled with letters, memos, and new assignments around the huge cubicle-less workspace.
By K.B. Silver 7 months ago in Fiction
