The Weyward Sisters: Songs of Ophelia A Collaboration from the Women of Sudden Denouement

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

you must remember

rosemary, pansies, fennel,

columbine and rue,

You forgot tansy, didn’t you?

When the ground freezes over

And your flowers crumble and brown

Let the ice in Hamlet’s Heart

And the Red on his hands

Deliver him forever from you.

And when you return again

From your journey to the sea

Never forget

It is you.

It was never he.

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

I sat and watched the current roll by today

I think I’d like to float away to a place that I cannot say

You were always directing the rivers flow

I trusted you knew where it would go

But you let me go adrift

Dream chaser isn’t that what you always said?

You’re where the love has always been

Dream chaser dream chaser

don’t mock me now

Its not always the same

You will find me in this…

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The Weyward Sisters: Hand in Hand – A Collaboration from the Women of Sudden Denouement

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Stand, a nighean.
Call the moon.
Bring your Wolves
With you.
Let down the flames of your hair.
The Great War
Has come again.
 – Rana Kelly

In the end there will be fire and ash
But to us it will be like the Fourth of July
What could be more powerful than women
Standing together in solidarity
We’re taking a page out of Lilith’s book
The one you never read
We will not lie on the bottom
We will stand side by side.
Hannah Wagner

skål,
Thrills the Viking Whisper ice –
splinters of the north wind
Of the high noon blood of sister-raiders slain
The shield-maidens dine
Tonight, too.
Samantha Lucero

It is well within the fires
of burning words
and stolen wombs, ravaged,
we have birthed a beast.
Swaddled in the souls
of her mothers of fire
and maidens of ice,
she has been…

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Interpretation of Shadows-Olde Punk (RamJet Poetry) & Christine Ray (Brave and Reckless)

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Interpretation of shadow

culmination of the pale deaths

cogito ergo, en utero

vagabond goth kids thrash around the room

time slow, I don’t know

I never want to go home

right here with you

I fell down again

tripped into you

spilled my soul

we are the midnight heretics

let’s smoke a bowl

and talk about kids and politics

I wonder what your shadow says

I am left stunned, paralyzed

by your movement in the dying light

Friday night blues

Misfits in Hybrid Moments

Tired Dustbowl town

Torn blue jeans

untucked flannel shirt

skull cap cool

Riding our skateboards

Nowhere fast

Biding time

Ringleaders

of our gang of two

No need for sidekicks

when we chase

twilight shapes together

We are everything we need

Time and space seem to conform

to your every desire

You set a fire in my heart

that still burns in the next county

I tattooed…

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Social MEdia-Max Meunier/Dissociative Void

Max Meunier

it is such a strange dynamic
these forums in which we gather
in a most persistent state
of idle incoherent blather
trapped behind these glowing screens
the hopes and dreams of every person
air as fleeting as a meme
subjected to flights of aversion
as it seems, the world awaits us
from the very place we sit
boundless escape from our sorrows
hanging at our fingertips
realms of plastic intimacy
ruled by unforgiving whims
wintry hearts that once burned holes
in skies that since have fallen dim
scarcely shedding light on truth
of how quickly we are forgotten
pittances of such regard
leave scars for which no time allots for
in the moment, fools are prone
to bleed expression most effusive
once it passes, who will fill the need
persisting in the ashes
~valiant~, are those who ride
upon a white horse singing freedom
“free” to run their dalliances
soon…

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Keep One In The Chamber-Nicole Lyons/The Lithium Chronicles

The Lithium Chronicles

This poem was previously published on my column on Feminine Collective.

KO

Darkness has fallen. The winds, they blow strange.
The devils we know have all changed their names.
They have coloured their faces, these heathens without shame,
all pointing corrupt fingers, all deflecting the blame.
They kill our time breathing upon life’s precious things,
taking pleasure from bullets tearing butterfly wings.
One for the kid just trying to get home,
clutching rainbows of death and his girl on the phone.
A few for the women, the mothers not to be,
slaughtered for their choices in the land of the free.
Five for the heroes who laid down their lives
when a blue line was crossed in Dallas that night.
Another forty-nine blazed through the night skies,
carrying the pulse of one love on terrified cries.
In San Bernardino there was holiday cheer,
and then fourteen funerals to ring in the…

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How to have sex with a ghost-Howl Davies/The Sounds Inside

The Sounds Inside

Black crocuses
for a white flag,
tonight we bring the dead
back to life,
the banshees and
saints, absorbed by
their violence,
cultivated by centuries
of silence, I am not
done with you yet,
forgive me,
please.
god-speed son,
you said, before you
left,

I’ve gone this long
under lock and key,
with no intent on exile,
I use it physically for my
pleasure
more and more.
Don’t lead the horse to the water,
if you are not ready
to drown it,
it should have been us,
that night,
fury,
oh fury,
how I want you,

In that confined mess of a
misinformed orgy of bodies
and scripts and curtains
closing, lights blazing,
singing about pockets
overflowing with
wildflowers to
ward off the plague,
there’s a hairline fracture
in every syllable,
in every melody, in every
brief right hook of
regicidal forgiveness,
as we beg those ghosts
for closure.

Spilling…

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Blissed – Jasper Kerkau/The Writings of Jasper Kerkau

The Writings of Jasper Kerkau

images-3

With her side-ways glance,
She sees the patina of my fear.
Smirking, placid expression.
Pallid skin.
Lips perched.
I hear her inaudible laugh,
her nuanced condescension.
A lacerating look,
My heart leaps.
Her oblique manner digs into me.
A dizzy roar of dysfunctional,
ephemeral bliss washes over me.
Soon the hangover.
Why do I do this to myself?

Jasper Kerkau (9/9/16)

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