Themes for Disappearing

S. K. Nicholas writes what looks like prose, but is poetry with originality and edge to spare.

S. K. Nicholas


While taking a bath, the sound of wind chimes comes to me through the window and for some reason, I feel like crying. Closing my eyes, I see her dancing in a void, and the delicate beauty of it is reminiscent of the sensation of a moth’s wings tickling the insides of my clasped hands. She reaches out. She collapses. She blooms. Sometimes she scratches and when I prise open my fingers she’s not there and neither is the moth but the void is still near and as the wind chimes chime and the branches of the trees call my name she is still with me like the shadow she is. The days are long and the sky mostly empty and the hours consist of mundane work and memories and fire and the lips of women and the words they force me to write and the subtle humming of ghosts…

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Breaking the Legacy of Silence #41 When Theres No Time to Say Goodbye | Kim D. Bailey | weekly column | FIVE:2:ONE

Kim’s column this week – follow the link and read.

Kim D. Bailey

We cut with our words and silences, let resentment fester and eat away at any connection we may have with another. Sometimes, we must step away from the carnage and let the dogs fight it out. Our sanity often depends on our self-care and boundaries in these situations.

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So, yesterday, Thursday, May 25th, I had cataract surgery on my left eye. By this morning it is feeling a lot less scratchy and clear, and my aim is getting better with the eye drops (2 kinds). I had to take the left lens out of my glasses because it was causing some double vision. The real surprise yesterday afternoon was not clarity, it was color. I was looking at one of the flowering Rhododendron bushes in the yard (or, Mountain Laurel? I’m not sure of the difference.) and I was struck by the brilliant blue, almost violet color that I had not noticed before. When I covered the left eye, the color was still washed out (still have cataracts in the right one).

I too a photo and could see the same difference between the eyes in the picture. I tried playing around with the effects in a Photoshop-like program and I think I got pretty close to the difference. Here’s the approximate view with cataracts:


And this is the view without them:


Other colors are more intense too, and whites whiter, but the big difference in the Blue-Purple-Violet end of the spectrum. Even the sky is bluer.

Between Flashes

Nicole and a poem – In sync and out

Nicole Lyons

This piece was originally published on Feminine Collective

I still remember the way
adrenaline burned
when my pulse raced
to sync with the others,
between flashes of light,
and the gulp of yours.
I still remember the way
deviance danced in my veins
when my pulse raced
to sync with the others,
between stops,
and licking you
up off the floor.
I still remember the way
shame seared
when my pulse raced
to sync with the others,
between flashes of truth,
and hot mouths slurping
our cold lies.
I still remember the way
my pulse slowed
to sync with the others,
between flashes of disbelief
and the scalding emptiness
after the taste of my dreams
hit the back of our throats.

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