Stevi-Lee Alver

Joined March 2023

0 stories

Bio

Australian writer and tattoo artist based in Brazil. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Achievements (1)

Runner-Up in Epistolary Challenge

Stories (59/0)

The Art of Acid-Base Titrations
Stop. It’s too pink. How pink is too pink? That pink is too pink. It just became pink. Well, it’s too pink. One drop too pink?
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
The Psychotic Side of Martyrs
1. After a plover pecked her son, the distressed mother was compelled to campaign. Blood was drawn she said, and invited me to join her Facebook page, 'The Conservative Management of Pesky Plovers'.
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Fiction
Well Old Son: Part Four
IV Liquid fire burns but does not shine in misty night skies. In the shadows of a broken imagination, a bewildered body cowers. A simple remedy: spoonfuls of psychedelic poems stirring the sound of colour. Toxically allured by scintillating oil rainbows, more vivid and less illusional than those of pure rain.
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
Tragic Flaw
i destroyed myself this i understand --- April is poetry month. I want all you writers and readers to celebrate poetry by committing to a daily microdose of poetry! April is not the cruellest month!
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
Living Twice Squared Through Poetry
Celebrating LGBTQ Poets for Poetry Month There are some experiences in life that leave imprints on your soul. Eileen Myles is a legend who rarely needs an introduction. But just in case: Myles is a queer badass, lesbian punk, poet and writer.
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
Well Old Son: Part Three
III Wholehearted devotion destroys cruel minds. He dreams of dreaming in dreams of bottled paper boats, blood curdled in breathless lungs, a ragged harlequin's muted scream. A single taste: metallic-nectar erotic-carnage haunts the warmth of noxious breath.
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
Well Old Son: Part Two
II Diluted memories, ebb & flow, wash ashore. Golden Gate lights fade behind peppered peripheral wastelands. Vermin nourishment: a single image. Torn Levi's. Rotting toenails. The unlit corners of a Sausalito cave, where poems wait to die.
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
Head Noise
Six Word Poem they all speak but nobody listens Head Noise is Real if you walk far enough the head noise fades and the poetry appears.
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
A Blue Offering
Ask yourself this: what's the colour of a jacaranda in bloom? A kind of blue, some would say. A mauve prison, he would explain.
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
Love is Love
Six Word Poems Six words are easy to swallow. Everyone should write six word poems. Love, an absurd thing to hate. Here are some of my favourite six worders:
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
Well Old Son: Part One
I Tangled stars hang like barbed wire in mutilated skies, in blemished horizons of empty-green & broken-blue lines. A single image: female, stretched sideways, effortless hills, faded rosebuds, scarred thighs, haunts the darkness of closed eyes.
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets
all the little deaths
there is always a little death hanging over every new beginning. as if the start is a kind of dissevering, slicing & slicing until
By Stevi-Lee Alver6 months ago in Poets