ORNA ROSS

Historical Fiction

Poetry

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A New Poem: Coming To

A New Poem: Coming To

On my back in the dark. given up to night, I lie, a fool aground. A suckling. yearning, turning in want and will, smothering in the urges of the underneath. Up there the spangled stars. The moon: one-quarter lit and on the wane. Hiding its hollows in its divide. And...
Website Upgrade Continues

Website Upgrade Continues

The work is continuing in the background, building the Creativist Club for all those who are interested in learning more about how to apply the creative process to everything in life: money, friends, work, home. With the aid of the wonderful Pixbee Design, the Club...
Love Hurts? No Way

Love Hurts? No Way

Love hurts, they say. I say, no way. The only thing that never hurts is love. Lust festers, envy bites. Loss skewers, rejection spikes. Passion burns, craving seethes. Romance dazzles, lonesome bleeds. Well yes, indeed. But none of the above is love. Love helps, love...
Valentines’ Day 2016: A New Poem

Valentines’ Day 2016: A New Poem

I’m writing this on Valentine’s Day 2016, at a sunny table outside Cole St cafe in The Haight, 6000 miles away from The Hub. He is in London, I am in San Francisco. But love is what the scientists call non-local and no problem for it to leap continent and ocean. He...
Halting Place: A New Poem

Halting Place: A New Poem

For Wang Wei. And Fiona. Here, autumn has not yet plucked the last of the leaves. Evening mist has nothing to hold but the trees. It’s that time of day, that time of year, when poems come. That ache to be here, to be heard. Surely, soon? You relieve it with love,...