The Literary Work of
D'Colin Priest
These poems, stories, and essays were written across two decades — from the first days of sobriety in 2005 to the present. They are documents of survival, transformation, and vision. Previews are free. Full texts are for subscribers.
Featured Work — In Progress
A series of short stories drawn from real contact events — told in the first person, in the author's own voice, without apology. D'Colin has never written a novel before. He is writing one now, one story at a time, and you are invited to witness the process. Each short story stands alone. Together, they will become a book.
The Novel — In Development
D'Colin has never written a novel before. He is writing one now — one short story at a time, out of order, the way memory actually works. Each story stands alone. Together, they will become a book. Subscribers experience the writing process as it happens.
Act One
Now Gods Stand Up for Bastards
Act Two
The Purple Disc of Solid Light
Act Three
The Planet of Milk and Honey
The Short Stories — Published as Written
Story One
Kings Canyon National Park, California.
— Arriving in fewer than 30 days —
Story Two
— Coming Soon —
— Full manuscript in progress. Subscribers will receive each chapter as it is completed. —
Day 4 without the hook. Things are beginning to look brighter. — July 24, 2005, 6:29 AM
I can see… Dawn's orange glow Illuminating the trafficking black ants Moving busily over night's last meal-crumbs
One long minute at a time. I waited too long to take the next set of meds and I was burning while I wrote this. — July 21, 2005, 4:57 PM
This ain't no flu, man! This ain't no Nicotine fit White-hot lava flowin' through my veins And I feel like shit!
This is how it all began. There are so many of these web sites that will call you at home to get you to buy very strong opiates. — July 21, 2005, 10:30 AM
I need my records, doc In my mind: Click, click, Click-click, click "Just fax it to us We'll call you soon…"
Day 5 without my hook and realizing that I'll never be what I once was. It's okay. I'll have to learn to live with it. — July 25, 2005, 5:22 AM
You don't want to go Where I've been That dark winding road Is the greatest of my sin
I just received ninety pills yesterday but I had the strength and determination to not give in to temptation. I admit: I had ordered them to test me. I passed the test.
Mr. Watson just came visiting back He tempted me so much But I refuse to touch When he held out his hand with a sack
On the way to pick up my kids who have been there since the beginning of my rehab. My 9th day clean and I feel free. — July 29, 2005, 4:37 PM
When I was sober Man! I could walk When I was clean Oh how I could talk
I've watched many mornings Watched the sun playfully peek its head Just ever over the crest of sleeping parent-hills
Friday, October 14, 2005.
I sit alone In a room darkened by Drawn curtains and watch the world spin By in boxes made of boxes
Thursday, October 6, 2005.
One minute you're on fire The next intense ice What I've tasted of this desire The pain of the burning fire
Was it my eyes that had seen Or was it another man's eyes He sat on the University lawns Enthralled by everything that was her
There once was a woman who had pseudocyesis Not one nor two but Three It was the Trinity In her false pregnancy
Since I was born I've been drowning By the doctors My family was told That Smokes were good When I was two-years old
I'm getting ready to taste your Miso Soup I gently put my lips To the Brim Nibbling, Slurrrping
Please Stay And have Breakfast with me While the Sun Rises
by D'Colin Priest
Dawn rises gives growth his body Trickled oozes down street Torpid stagnate air surrounds Moves inch numbing inch
The Fibonakus — an original poetic form invented by Darrick C. Priest. The word count of each stanza follows the Fibonacci sequence: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21 — and back down. The numbers are not just structure; they are the poem.
I sit upon the western shore With the morning sun rays Warming my back Don this day anew With Sunshine's brilliance Dancing on the dew I breathe I breathe
A fragment. Unfinished. The beginning of something larger.
We are the dreamers of the dreams We are the ones who make the metronomes tick We are the ones who cloud the skies thick
Written March 27, 2026 while thinking about how to describe 'Sophia'
I love fog There is something So Feminine about Fog
A response to William Carlos Williams. By D'Colin Priest, © 2026.
So much depends / upon / A sleeping child...
"And I know that the dawn will come again."
— Darrick C. Priest, Day 4 of sobriety, 6:29 AM