Hasty – Not alone at the center
In here the air is still
Maybe more hollow
A black hole wraps me
Inside its stomach
As sound disappears
Brain is swallowed
And I can no longer
Feel my own soul
But there is something
Nudging me, or pulling
Something from beyond
Reaching silently, towards
Into what has become
The home I’ve created
A feeling that I’m not
And never was alone
Hasty – caught in another’s tangled web
Deceit grows a knotted vine
Flowers tangled up in twine
Wrapping itself around
Things unsaid, said carefully
Not said at all, implied
Forming rows and rows
Of tiny little white lies sowed
Made-up stories to placate
Worry lines dive into deep sea
Looking for air hopelessly
Where only the dark survives
This is where sadness thrives
At the bottom of the ocean
Where monsters do not hide
Hasty sees signs.
I follow the signs
The cues are there
Lined up, waiting
I ponder them
As they flash and blink
They don’t make sense
They don’t add up
They flash and blink
And blink and blink
They won’t stop flashing
As if I’m dense, or slow
Or obstinate or….
I sit mesmerized waiting
For them to do something
Anything other than…
Damn signs
Until the pondering ends
And I just walk away
Because I don’t care
Not anymore
TheFeatheredSleep – A complicated sort of bondage
I grew up fetishizing
the nubile antonyms of beauty
Helmut Newton’s exploitation
penis behind camera stroking
sloe-eyed girls with tired mouths
smoking yellow papered Gauloises
nipples grazing peach crinoline
men’s eyes like dry stones, seeking squeezing
I grew up thinking
contortion and bondage was
an art form not
excuse for masochism
as unsupervised child, I’d look through
graphic design manuals
that inexplicably had vulvas and
perky breasts
to illustrate Pantone
it was after all
the seventies
what did I know? Except
women on beaches without tops
giving me francs for not spilling their dirty martini’s
Mon sucre d’orge, sois gentil, va me chercher mes cigarettes
always gentleman watching
the rise and fall of female throats
nicotine mouths, stained vermillion
long tan legs swept beneath chiffon
men taking them to hotel rooms
children
smoking the leftovers whilst adults
fucked behind closed doors
wondering
when I grow up
how can I lie…
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Cluster B takes aim at a “helper” with a fable.
My thanks to Beatrix Potter, author of Tale of Jemima Puddle Duck. This story is adapted from her story, brought into today’s world of psychopaths, victims and recovery on the world wide web.
Jemima Puddle-Duck lived on a farm. It could have been a nice place to live except for one thing. The farmer’s wife would not let Jemima hatch her own eggs. She routinely confiscated Jemima’s eggs and gave them to a hen to hatch. For some reason, she thought Jemima would get bored sitting on eggs as long as it would take to hatch them. She wouldn’t even give Jemima a chance.
Jemima ran away from that farm, seeking a 
safe place to lay her eggs. She chanced upon a handsome fox who was reading a newspaper. “Quack!” said Jemima. The fox looked up surprised to see a duck addressing him.
The fox…
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Christine Ray – A discontinuity in life
I say that I lost you
as though you were an umbrella
that I carelessly left on the bus
after the summer rain had stopped
I say that I lost you
as though you were a conversation
that I dropped the thread of
when I became
distracted by fireflies dancing outside my window
I say that I lost you
as though you were a book
I insisted that a friend borrow and read
that was never returned
I say that I lost you
as though you were a bet
a wager
I could easily afford to place
To say that I lost you
is to say that the world that I knew has ended
that the universe has been torn violently in two
that time has stopped like a broken pocket watch
whose hands now stand empty
reaching for a tomorrow
that will never come
© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All…
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Without a doubt, a seriously cool event.
The editors and contributors are kicking off a week of events in honor of the publication of We Will Not Be Silenced: The Lived Experience of Sexual Harassment and Sexual Assault Told Powerfully Through Poetry, Prose, Essay, and Art with a Live Event on Friday, November 30th on Facebook. The live event is a great opportunity to learn more about the book’s origin, purpose, and its contributors and get some sneak peeks of the powerful content.
Learn more here.
Samara ventures in South Jersey to sing.
I got a voicemail from a guy who had heard I was a singer and invited me to sing a few songs with his band at a gig that Saturday. In case you’re wondering how he got my number, I don’t know. This past summer I was practicing to perform some songs with the ex-boyfriend’s band, which never materialized. I did, however, tell everyone that I now sang with a band, including the dude at the post office who was helping me track down the “Good Morning I See the Assassins Have Failed Again” mug I had ordered from Etsy. Which apparently had been delivered to the wrong address so Post Office Dude took my number and I think he gave it to a guy who gave it to a guy.
Or something. Who the hell has time to play Inspector Gadget when fame and fortune come knocking at your…
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Calico Jack – An example of narcissistic panic?
How cray is this? The Ol’ Pussy Grabber said to the New York Post that he would authorize the declassification of documents “devastating” to the Democrats if they go the presidential “harassment” route by investigate him. Crazy right? But, he didn’t stop with the cray-cray there. It goes on! Specifically, he threatened to declassify the FISA and other warrant applications that the Mueller probe used! Wow! Now THAT’s really nuts, right? I mean that could expose methods and sources and all kinds of shit that could really damage the FBI and the way they conduct investigations. How crazy can you get? Well, okay, we’re talking about the bottomless pit of madness, so it gets worse! He then claims that these documents would expose a conspiracy between Mueller, the FBI, and the Clinton campaign to bring him down!
Now, that last claim really tears at the bounds of credulity because (a)…
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Calico Jack directs attention to a review of Trump’s criminal behavior by Rachel Maddow.
Rachel Maddow lays out the case of obstruction of justice by the Ol’ Pussy Grabber by reading a letter special counsel Ron Jaworski wrote to the Congressional judiciary committee outlining Nixon’s criminal activity that he had documented. It is a lengthy and detailed list. If you dated it 2018 and changed a few names and other details, it could be about the Ol’ Pussy Grabber only the evidence wasn’t contained on secret White House tapes and written in memos and given in testimony, it is documented in interviews with the Ol’ Pussy Grabber, his public statements, and his tweets.
All in all it is a damning segment that lays out in no uncertain terms that on multiple occasions the Ol’ Pussy Grabber has publicly instructed a variety of officials to stop the Mueller investigation. These people range from AG Sessions to the Senate chair people of various investigative committees to…
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Diary excerpts from 15 years of working on Mental Health Wards after own Psychotic Depression
Political Skeptics
SHORT STORIES AND OTHER FICTIONS
wide awake when my head hits the pillow
“The only real revolution is in the enlightenment of the mind and the improvement of character, the only real emancipation is individual, and the only real revolutionaries are philosophers and saints.” — Will Durant
Words are dangerous tools. You need the User Manual.
aka SusanWritesPrecise
Conjured by Sarah Doughty
Phillip's latest reveries
poetry and dark fiction
May Samhain Bless Your Home and Hearth
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Journaling my way through the darkness.
And I do a few other things too...
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