A Heart, Naked- Kindra M. Austin & Anthony Gorman

Look at me naked ‘neath the sun—
Timid, yet ripe in linger
Peeling back like
Petals in bloom,
Nectar, bright merlot
Can you smell my female?
Shading your man’s eyes—

Orbs shrouded grey ‘gainst noonday
Cubed hedges guard salacious says
Flesh, a feast to be delighted
The afters soul, would flee ignited
Lay me down in the grass;
Undress your drowns, through dawns of past
Let me gaze upon the underside of blithe trees
While you staid, the light inside me

Sensitive soul, romantic—
Sleepless flame blown frantic
Be careful with me, a virgin of
This bare beached, moon-dripped kiss
Love, naive to versions
Of these primal visions, blissed
I trust you with my heart

© Kindra M. Austin/Anthony Gorman
(image: LiveInternet)


Kindra M. Austin is an indie author (her books can be found here, a founding member of Indie Blu(e), and a writer/managing editor at Sudden Denouement, Blood Into Ink, and Whisper and the Roar. A Sagittarius Valkyrie from the state of Michigan, she likes craft beer, and classic big block muscle cars. You can find her filing through the souls of the slain at poems and paragraphs.

Anthony “Grumpy” Gorman is a writer and visual artist with extensive lived trauma.  He’s worked in the field of Mental Health and addictions in crisis management.  Much of his writing helps with processing the absorbed horrors and sorrows experienced vicariously through the recounts of resilient and amazing clients. Additionally, he lives with the daily splendors and burdens of his own bipolar disorder.  With a fervor for micropoetry, poetry his writing strives to back big emotions into small clusters of words. Grumpy is privileged to share with you. You can read more of his writing at Hands in the Garden.

Handcrafted- Nicholas Gagnier and Kindra M. Austin

There’s a sinkhole in my 
soul, like playing the blues 
without bass. There’s a 
Heaven somewhere but 
nobody manning the patron 
gates, and undesirables 
infiltrate its most fertile wastes.

Here I hang in the meanwhile ether,
a place betwixt the in-between—
I remain unseen 
even to 
mine own 
eye. 

And thus, I craft something 
never meant to die, but never really 
gets to live. I create 
to forgive, painstakingly 
consisting of all the self-
destruction immortality’s 
made apparent.

I am an enigma, a
mystery even to me—
though I breathe and bleed,
I feel inorganic, unmammal, inhuman;
all encompassing, omnipotent and
beautifully blasphemous, sacrilege 
for allusion’s sake.

So I take 
these loves and give them laughter,
daily resurrections to prepare them
for Rapture the midnights
acquaint,
handcrafted rite of passages 
all my angels can posthumously use
to paint me 
legends,
spread a hopeful
message when we
finally acquiesce to those 
pearl-white gates.


Nicholas Gagnier is a Canadian writer and poet, and the creator of  Free Verse Revolution. He has published several poetry books, as well as a novella releasing this July. Nicholas supports and engages in conversations around mental health and social welfare, preferring strong literary voices and self-expression to traditional narrative and poetry. He lives in Ottawa with his young daughter, where he runs FVR Publishing and works on a million projects at once.

Kindra M. Austin is an indie author (her books can be found here, a founding member of Indie Blu(e), and a writer/managing editor at Sudden Denouement, Blood Into Ink, and Whisper and the Roar. A Sagittarius Valkyrie from the state of Michigan, she likes craft beer, and classic big block muscle cars. You can find her filing through the souls of the slain at poems and paragraphs.

What can I give you?- Iulia Halatz read by Jonathan O’Farrell


What can I give you? I am the blue
as imagined by a blind
and the roots of knowledge
as watered by a scholar.

I am the yellow
wind and the mauve
respond of light
perched
in the ubiquitous trees
tethered in the clouds
that barely scratch
the sky.

I am the green
storm and colorless waves
that wished upon a mountain
to break water in tryst
with the sun.

Not by blindness
we can reorder colors
but by the painting of a soul
in a moment tender
as the liquid moon
is quivering above the forest.


Iulia Halatz: “Writing is an Iron Tale, must be tough and sincere to the core of human perception of pain as valor. I am the grumpy T-Rex who started writing out of pain, not because of a polished world. Writing out of love is painless and herbivore. As we sometimes taste blood, ours or others’. Nevertheless, some words are so expensive that we are better left with them unspoken or write them with the ink of a Ghost…” She is a teacher, small entrepreneur and cyclist.

Jonathan O’Farrell: “I guess you might describe me as a semi-nomad, at the moment . . . and in the moment, I might change. I am transitioning into a creative life, blogging, photography and, significantly, the publication of my first two photographically illustrated poetry anthologies, this year.”

Oracle- Eric Syrdal & Lois Linkens

Pariah! They say
with open eyes but shut mouths
I can hear the gnawing between my bones
it rests like poison honey on their tongues
like a promise, the vanishing point of a dark road
anathema laid upon my brow while I was sleeping
in this waking dream

I see myself all sandy olive brown
A smudge in gold dust, damp but for dark leaves
Like feath’ry mother arms. I am restless,
A young Soul scraping bare
For love and comfort as children’s hands in
Honey jars. I crawl, dusty kneed and
Heavy-headed t’wards the Gods.

I stumble and fall
no arms to catch me in this concrete jungle
no high priestess in the high-rise penthouse
to cup my chin at this silicone confessional

The ground does wake,
Ears like white billowed sails — and hear they do,
A pearl voice soothes my blotchéd cheek. Good
Smoke, light and fresh as fruit fills this sunken soul.
Atë — Atë! Fair fallen goddess girl,
With sour brow and feet like deer. Curse her
Jet stone heart with tools of fear! 

But, how could the voice of a goddess speak through me?
how much longer should this exile be?
If I lay prostrate on this linoleum floor
what sacrifice can I offer, which a broken heart can afford?

Curse you, with your opal eyes —
My black grief ne’er shall be your wretched prize.

Two Parts- Erich Michaels and Sarah Doughty

She was a breath of fresh air
He grew up in the tenements
She was a mountain range
He was that sweet something
After too much saltiness
She grew up listening to country
He was her first taste of jazz

She was his first night under the stars. His first taste of the wild. She was the reprieve he needed from the concrete and smog. He brought her excitement and city lights, but still danced with her under the moonlight. He showed her that there was more to her world, just as she did for him. At last, they felt like two parts made whole.

Unfortunately, time has a way of making even mountain ranges nothing more than a tattered backdrop at a rundown portrait studio. Even jazz can become background noise—Muzak in a department store. Two completely different suits in the deck can become just cards, just as he and she, spring and fall, became seasons that never seemed to touch.

But that was what made them work. That was what kept them together all those years. All those things became the backdrop of their lives, and the glue that held them together.

Stanzas 1&3 © Erich Michaels

Stanzas 2&4 © Sarah Doughty


Erich Michaels describes himself as  “just trying to share the human experience.”  He has a bachelor’s degree in creative writing, but find himself writing SOPs (lather, rinse, repeat) in order to make a living, which can be detrimental to the creative process.  You can find him on the road to recovery at Erich Michaels.  Every journey begins with a single step, right?

Sarah Doughty is the tingling wonder-voice behind Heartstring Eulogies. She’s also the author of The Silence Between Moonbeams, her poetry chapbook, and the acclaimed novels and novellas of the Earthen Witch Universe. Good news, they’re all offered for free, right here! To learn more about how awesome Sarah is, check out her website, stalk her on Goodreads, or both.

Crow Black and Cardinal Red Kindra M. Austin & Matthew Eayre

Of explosive mourning is born the night
rising low in my rib cage
Obsidian heart cooling in its crate,
cold enough to freeze the devils in
hell
Usurp the king’s wings, crow black and cruel,
This is my coronation day

Raucous laughter celebrates the coming dawn
falling gently upon my brow
Scarlet song issuing from opened chest,
warm enough to thaw glaciers under oceans
Wrest away throne of bone, cardinal red and salacious,
This is my exaltation

I’ve got worms in my veins,
fertilizing melancholy
Holy blood boils
over
bone and sinew
See what love has left me

Rows of nightshade
line my grave as I burrow
homeward
guarding from paradise
my hands dig for solitude

All gone suddenly,
swallowed by big nothing,
they’re buried within the
layers of my skin—
the women I’d adored
like red soaked wool itching my soul,
maddened

My attention brings pain, my adoration
sorrowful suffering
the pieces of my life
wrapped in coddling clothes and
funeral shrouds, held in hands
too strong to let go

© Kindra M. Austin/Matthew Eayre

(image by diagonite on Newgrounds.com)


Kindra M. Austin is an indie author (her books can be found here, a founding member of Indie Blu(e), and a writer/managing editor at Sudden Denouement, Blood Into Ink, and Whisper and the Roar. A Sagittarius Valkyrie from the state of Michigan, she likes craft beer, and classic big block muscle cars. You can find her filing through the souls of the slain at poems and paragraphs.

Matthew D Eayre is recently planted in Houston, Texas and hoping to grow roots. A lifelong lover of words and language, he writes every chance he gets when not delivering smiles or spending time with his loving wife and family. Matthew has only one rule in life and in writing; it has to be real. He writes from personal experience about life, love and loss. He bridges the light spectrum from darkness to light, hoping that somewhere out there he reaches those who need to be reached. You can find more of his brilliant work on his site,  Uneven Streets Studiosand his Facebook page Poetry of Monsters

Penance- Kindra M. Austin and Sarah Doughty

I said I’d be your wings,
so you hired a flat-felled seamstress
who
topstitched me to your back.

Save me, you say
when jumping off bridges.

And this is my penance,
or hoping you would thrive —
not take risks with your life.

But yet, there you are,
jumping with blind faith
that I will keep you from
landing at Death’s door.
Literally.

I’m sorry, I say
when I realize I have failed you.
Stanzas 1&2 © Kindra M. Austin

Stanzas 3-5 © Sarah Doughty


Kindra M. Austin is an indie author (her books can be found here, a founding member of Indie Blu(e), and a writer/managing editor at Sudden Denouement, Blood Into Ink, and Whisper and the Roar. A Sagittarius Valkyrie from the state of Michigan, she likes craft beer, and classic big block muscle cars. You can find her filing through the souls of the slain at poems and paragraphs.

Sarah Doughty is the tingling wonder-voice behind Heartstring Eulogies. She’s also the author of The Silence Between Moonbeams, her poetry chapbook, and the acclaimed novels and novellas of the Earthen Witch Universe. Good news, they’re all offered for free, right here! To learn more about how awesome Sarah is, check out her website, stalk her on Goodreads, or both.