Black Widow

Christine Ray gives a portrait of a dangerous woman.

Brave & Reckless

Donned my

badass black dress


Mourning colors

for a softer



I think I used to be

she’s fading away

curves lost to angles

all sharp elbows and knees

Thorns create a protective trellis

around the remaining delicate petals

of my peony heart

Invisible barbed quills sprout

from my death white skin

Keep a healthy distance

lest you prick your finger

on my spine

I will greedily drink

the drops of your oxygen rich blood

from my cupped hands

before you fall

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

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Once more

From TheFeatheredSleep, a song of freedom


You do not acknowledge

The serpent around your neck


Pay heed to that crushing feeling in your chest

Instead you imagine

You are a bird

Your eyes are clear and you spie

The very fabric of the sky

Wielding like unteathered kite

If you could write

A story about the world below

You’d tell a tale of an unknowing girl

Who by her fate

Fell into a well

Too deep for recovery

And at night

Espying the free bird

Sent her heart

While her body, a poor glove

Dried into shapes of shadow

The girl flew

High above her earthly prison

Weightless, painless, without burden

And when she cried, it was not

The cry of pain or loss

But a new sound, like being born

Once more

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Christine Ray offers an image of one drained, seeking renewal.

Brave & Reckless

madness seared through me

unholy alchemy

veins left iron coated

ghostly cells circulate slowly

through this haunted body

that cramps to the floor

shaking hand reaches

for dented chalice

wine mixed with warm blood

ancient spices

return color to my lips

my tongue

© 2018 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

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Our Undertow-S Francis/SailorPoet & Christine Ray/Brave and Reckless

On Brave And Reckless – a poetic collaboration

Brave & Reckless

Written in collaboration with Stephen Fuller at The Rilke Project

In the sleepless nights since you left

I have become a ghost

Haunting lonely shores.

My restless legs cover miles

Before giving out.

I am raw, ragged

Who will walk with me through

The darkside of this morning

Where our kaleidoscoped story

Hovers above the water’s surface

Piercing me before they blur in the brine?

I clutch one eidolon

You drowsy and tousled in my tee shirt

Borrowed fabric softly falling

Shaping the constancy of arousal

The obvious distaff dangers unhidden

The rhythmic glitter of dawn on the surf

Belies dangers of the relentless undertow

pulls away and pulls away and pulls away


Swallowed milligrams of sunlight

Penetrate bare boned trees, symbolic.

The onus of my salvation.

An image given

By a phantom.

I drop to my knees and see red

Stains on the mica staged to process the…

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I thought I was one of the good guys. Then I read the Aziz Ansari story. – Vox

Calico Jack give us a link to one man’s story of slipping over the line.

The Psy of Life

This is a story that I think every man, if he is honest with himself, can tell. This fellow tells his story in refreshingly graphic detail as he delivers a blow-by-blow account of his sexual encounter with a young woman several years ago. In doing so, he clearly illustrates how every man can be a rapist and how easy it is to unknowingly slip over that line.

Reproduction is the point of life on the planet. It is our prime directive. Literally, everything else that human beings do is in service to having babies and raising them to the age of reproduction.

Having sex is the primary way and only biological way for reproducing. As such, we will go to surprisingly great lengths to have sex. Think of all the lies that people tell themselves in order to have sex: one time won’t hurt, she wants it as much as…

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We need a lot more awareness about narcissism and psychopathy.

LuckyOtter gives a wake up call.

Lucky Otters Haven


Elizabeth Mika is one of the 27 mental health professionals who contributed to the  bestselling book,  The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump.   She is a psychologist who writes about narcissism, psychopathy and authoritarianism (specifically Donald Trump’s authoritarianism) on her Medium blog.  I follow her on Twitter (she’s under @yourauntemma if you want to follow her too) because I never want to miss one of her articles.    The other day, she tweeted this in reference to the many pleas to “remember the Holocaust”:

Unless we teach about the conscience-impairing character defects, like psychopathy & narcissism, shared by genocidal leaders & their followers, these calls for remembrance will remain hollow.

She’s absolutely right.   Even though the Cluster B personality disorders, specifically those in the Dark Triad — Narcissistic Personality Disorder, psychopathy (Antisocial Personality Disorder), and malignant narcissism (a combination of both disorders with paranoid traits)  — are getting…

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The One – A Very Short Story

From Insane Roots – a short, sad story.

Insane Roots

It occurred to him in that moment that she might be the one. There was something undeniable in her eyes, pulling him closer with every glance. And her touch…well, it was as if there was magic in her finger tips; tender, just as her heart.

Unfortunately, it had also occurred to him that he might not be ready for a love like that. It was surely a dilemma indeed. So instead, he walked away.

For surely it was better to break her heart now, than to save it for another day. And broken it was, broken was she.

For he not only kept her from himself, he took her away from this world. The light in her eyes has dimmed and there is  no more magic to be found. The day she was disregarded was the day her world went dark.

There is no going back now.

He should have told her then, but…

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