Rowan Finley

Joined February 2019

1177 stories

Bio

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.

Stories (1177)

Filter by community

Sort by (Optional)

Prayers for Her (Pt. 35)
Lord, I pray that she would sleep well, I pray, that, the world she’d tell, the gospel of peace and joy. I pray that she’d be full of grace,
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
The hands of a clock long
You are beautiful, I just want you to know it. Clock crowed at figure. ~ ~ ~ Hands of clock do long to hold and cuddle lonely
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Unusual Interruption
Today, in Sunday morning church service, there was a flying squirrel that somehow flew into the church. It was flying in big circles and then it got hit by one of the fan blades. Stunned by the chop of the fan, it flopped right on top of Maudy Prinkle’s head. Maudy is prim and far too proper. She was wearing gaudy hat that was so big it could have served as an unbrella for a small heard of sheep. Although the sheep might have been too embarrassed to be under such an ugly hat.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Fiction
End Up
I end up breaking hearts all around, so then I long to be alone. High up on a tower, sitting, thinking, drinking in the wind.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Pole Dancer
I’m Gloria Euphoria. Every day you’ll see me flapping and snapping. Since I’m a flag, I’m a natural born pole dancer.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Quiet House
I love you for this, but I am aggravated over that. Quiet house prays silently over them as they’re out of town. I’m tired of performing.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
freshly bleached, blanketed napkin sheets
Blue icy mountain moans, on end of scrumptious scone. Tea wavers as if it’s lost at sea, and spoons rest on freshly bleached, blanketed napkin sheets.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Relocated (Chapter 4)
Mitch, Wini, and Skippy all lifted one of the latches to the bunker. The metal round portal top needed to be twisted several times and then it automatically lifted on its own, slowly and somewhat ominously.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Chapters
I’d never be a good cop
I’d never be a good cop. Daydreaming would distract me while the criminals got away. I’d never be a good cop. Memorizing lots of laws,
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Desperately
I looked great on paper, so you didn’t say no. Well, I hope he makes you happy, because I sure damn couldn’t. Why would I ever try so hard,
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Raft
I float on love raft for you. Through raucous river rapids, and over waterfalls. Lend me rainbow palette, to paint your portrait’s praise.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Elderly, Or Not
Silvery head bowed down low I held her hand and she smiled Listening intently but hard of hearing Energy reminiscent and diminished
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets