Kendall Defoe

Joined February 2018

850 stories

Bio

Teacher, reader, writer, dreamer... I am a college instructor who cannot stop letting his thoughts end up on the page. No AI. No Fake Work. It's all me...

And I did this:

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Stories (850)

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Trigger
Warning: this is the first in the set of series of warnings. Be sure to look for more warnings to come. Bring in several of your friends and relatives who are susceptible to warnings.
By Kendall Defoe 4 years ago in Poets
While You Were Out...
A little background info... I wrote this while staying with a friend in a guest house in Japan, and came up with the idea for it because of a girl (why else would I write a poem?).
By Kendall Defoe 4 years ago in Poets
The Professor
Before I begin, I'd like to thank you for taking a meeting with me during what must be a very busy time of the year. I know the pressures you're under, but I cannot hold back any longer. I have already waited long enough.
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Fiction
Why We Need Poets
This is just another of my experiments and thoughts about what poetry can mean: We never had a poem from the hands of
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Poets
Observations I
You can go gentle into that good night (who would mind?) The world can end with a bang and a whimper. Between the Idea and the Reality is
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Poets
Neruda and the Housewife
There were many freedoms in working overseas; there were many moments that I would never have faced if I had not left my home.
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Humans
How I learned the English language...
I. “No, you are making words,” my mother said. “Not just spelling with letters.” The tiles did not help me. I had the edge of a spine-damaged
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Poets
The Man without a Story
Maybe it’s just my nature, or the way I look, but people loved to tell me their stories. I just seemed to be made for people to talk to when they needed to share some part of themselves they thought was hidden or forgotten. They always shared it with me. Just my nature…
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Fiction
Flash
He was in the air, but he was not flying. In one brief minute, his body was up, taking its time to understand what was happening to it as there became a change from the seat he knew too well to the landscape that he thought he knew and yet seemed very strange to him from this particular point of view. A strange thought, just in this moment. Was he thinking too much? His instincts moved very quickly in what was really a short space of time. He was definitely not flying. Instead, he had his dreams and thoughts. Heavy memories were weighing him down more than the gravity claiming him for itself.
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Fiction
Partridge
Absolutely exquisite… That is how Sheryl would describe such a day, thought Philip. The sun had finally come out in the afternoon, pushing the gloom of the morning to the side so that the blue sky could remind everyone that it was still there. Three days of rain and grayness had bothered all of their souls, but now the weather was behaving the way it should in the last weeks of a long summer. Philip thought about his Sheryl.
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Fiction
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By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Poets
Ball
Idea from James Knowlson’s biography of Samuel Beckett – “Damned to Fame”: When Beckett travelled to New York to supervise the filming of “Film” (1965), he attended a baseball game with his American editor/publisher Barney Rossett. Beckett could eventually follow the game; this was the only time he visited New York and the only baseball game that he attended. Not sure which team he saw (Mets or Yankees).
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Poets