say no to clowns

ebullient decay…

The Weyward Sisters: Back to Black/ Collaborative Amy Winehouse Tribute — June 8, 2017

The Weyward Sisters: Back to Black/ Collaborative Amy Winehouse Tribute

How can this not be shared? Awesome collaboration of extraordinary writing.

Sudden Denouement Literary Collective

Rana Kelly/2nd star to the Left, straight on ’til morning

Oh, Amy

Whenever I go walking

In my stilettos,

I hear you talking.

Dream me up a way

Of swishing my hips

And pursing my lips

And singing your riffs

So that I find beauty

Like you.

lois e. linkens

she puts her black dress on
in the dark,
anxious nails red and messy
in their early-morning artistry.
he left the candle burning
in the winter window –
vanilla and cinnamon
on a Sunday evening,
tears and vodka
on a Monday morning.
last week’s relief
breathes
into tonight’s regrets,
but the shadowy smear
on the glass
is all that is left of him.

Aakriti Kuntal/Writings of Aakriti Kuntal

Rummaging through

black air,

nauseous red nails bearing oily seas

Suffocating

existence with conversations,

conversations

with glittering nail cutters,

cracked moons

laughing hysterically in them

Conversations

of fallen boyfriends, of fallen love

Fallen being

the new being

Aurora…

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O…Here Flies Her — May 3, 2017

O…Here Flies Her

Oh my goodness, how I love this…

Poet Girl Em

Very carefully

he stepped on the ladder in a display of unbridled uncertainty

in reach of the divine dangling overhead like a jeweled crown

twinkling truth in morse code (he never did learn)

remaining a mystery that he would never solve

like her

the earthbound fearless lover deathly afraid of heights

who can dream bigger than the sky

but never dares

to fly

…there is always some boulder in the path

he won’t climb

some barrier blocking access

he won’t destroy

despite his strength (that he never has used)

wilting chances eroded by time

fruit of opportunity spoiled on the vine

o…here flies her

within grasp but for one step

one more step

how it must feel to see her so close away

so very away

so near

and her

the one that stands out by trying to blend in

because she can’t 

because

when all the other stars shine, she…

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the spells of itapuã — April 29, 2017

the spells of itapuã

Steve weaving his usual and unique magic.

inconstant light

lost_shorelines_s

Thought bubbles must be punctured gently,
deflated with a fine molecular needle.

-/-

She lets me do the shopping at the markets,
the hens are in my charge, I sweep the floors,
but I’m a prisoner in her house.

On the crooked kitchen shelving, potions bright,
alluring clues, magic herbs and condiments.
To prepare Bahian fish, she says.

Her eyes are jungle camouflage, her tidal laughter
breaks in waves when nothing is amusing,
mysteries are woven in her hair.

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Depression Sucks. — April 18, 2017

Depression Sucks.

For my dear friends who struggle with this, (and I have too) and for the people who love you, important words so beautifully and honestly expressed.

Strong Humble Warriors

I don’t want to talk.

I need rest.

I need silence.

The thoughts in my mind are overwhelming. They won’t stop. My life is a constant battle of outside voices competing with internal thoughts. It’s too much.

I don’t know how, but I need rest.

I’m lonely, but I can’t silence the storm of thoughts in my mind when another voice is in my ear; so I shut everyone out and feel relieved when they finally walk away.

I don’t mean to hurt feelings, but I need silence.

I don’t want anyone around because the tension that radiates from their discomfort with silence is even worse than being forced to talk.

I know they mean well, but I need rest.

I don’t need to lay down in the sense that it’s been a long day. I need to disappear for a while in the sense that it could be fatal…

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He Rebuilds a Lost Sister — April 12, 2017