A Big Nothing. -S.K. Nicholas/A Journal for Damned Lovers

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Big Nothing.

They say I’m not romantic, that I’m distant and distracted, but my love shows itself in many different forms. They tell me that I’m cold, that I don’t know how to connect. My defense is that it’s them- it’s them that can’t connect to me because they’re not open to the ebb and flow of my myriad ways. Actually, no, it’s me. I confess. I’m far too strange for those who happen to cross my sullen and maudlin path. Smoking my cigarette, I contemplate my actions but grow bored within the minute. Maybe sooner. My attention span isn’t great at the best of times. There should be writing, should be declarations of love, and yet I keep thinking of all those roads from my childhood that don’t exist anymore and the names of random galaxies I looked up on Wikipedia the other night after polishing off the rest of that red wine I’d been refusing to drink because white is just so much sweeter. Near where my grandparents lived in Lewsey Farm, there was an area of marshland that used to terrify me back when I would stay with them during the holidays as a kid. Not sure why it got under my skin, because it was all fenced off and secure and there was no chance of ever stumbling in. Yet for many years, I just couldn’t help but worry that one day I was going to find myself in a terrible predicament. As the wine does its thing and the wheels in my brain begin to spin, I feel a thought coming on. Y’know, even though we barely speak, maybe we could pay the place a visit? One evening when you’re not too busy wanting to break my bones, and it’s not too cold, we could take a drive up and slip through a hole in the fence before exploring each other’s bodies? I’m having trouble remembering the exact shape of your breasts, and every time I try picturing them I get these nosebleeds that just won’t quit. Every time I close my eyes and taste your lips, there’s a flavour that just won’t shift. It’s one of the skittles, maybe the blue one? Yeah, that’s it. You’re a blue skittle I want to suck and chew beneath a blood-red moon as the ground beneath us swallows us whole until there’s nothing left but our giddy laughter that rattles through the streets like the screams of some long-forgotten knife fight back in the summer of ’92.


S. K. Nicholas is creator of  myredabyss.com and author of A Journal for Damned Lovers, his first novel. He is a brilliant writer and a member of the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective. To learn more about S.K. and A Journal for Damned Lovers read Jasper Kerkau’s interview with S.K. and his review of A Journal for Damned Lovers.

The next addiction – Bishop Hermes

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The next addiction – Bishop Hermes

Oh that we create addictions

for ourselves and for others

blissful euthanasias we so leisurely strive for

oh create another so that i may

add yet one more habit to my repertoire

we deform to preserve life

as it lackadaisically slips through our hands

and we endeavor not to become statistics

yet most die to be another one

the impatience is killing me

how long shall i wait for my next addiction

[Bishop Hermes is an exceptional poet/musician who came to Sudden Denouement with strong recommendation from Sperantia Zavala. We are excited to have him contributing and feel strongly about his poetic vision and look forward to a fruitful collaboration.]

Nobody Screams – SRP

sick of all of the apologies

i can’t read anymore

of the rhetoric

cause it started to make me sick

guess I’m just another lunatic

start to smoke 

but then i quit

started posing

now I’m bored

I’m too old to give a shit

pretend not to notice

and have a fit

another spineless hypocrite

i don’t know if anyone listens

maybe nobody even listens

i don’t mind if anyone cares

i don’t believe in all the lameness

unsubscribe to all

the bullshit

clean up my act

&learn how to 

smile

just another handshake scene

i get lost in the dream

wish it was mostly make believe

stabbed in the back

nobody screams


[SRP is a co-creator of Sudden Denouement and driving force in the collective. He is a musician, a writer, and a friend.]

These Days – Georgia Park

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These Days – Georgia Park (Private Bad Thoughts, Whisper and the Roar)

I could recount a thousand times

my heart blackened

before it went red again-

when he told me

what happened to him,

when she didn’t

say anything,

when my head

busted open,

When I

stopped speaking-

but you know,

these days, it’s easier

to look at paintings

and write poetry

than to remember

anything

and did you know

I stopped sleeping

and that people say

nice things to me,

show me good things

and do you know

I just

     keep leaving
[Georgia Park is a poet! She is writes for Private Bad Thoughts, Whisper and the Roar, and Sudden Denouement. Whisper and the Roar is literary collective that Park created to provide a voice for feminist poets. Please take a look at her work and contact her for submissions.]

Deaf – Howl Davies

I came back for the silence,
for the roots that were reclaimed
after being torn out the earth
a dozen times, it’s a lonely place,
but that’s all I really look for,
the slack jaw greeting of the mute,
the sense of nothing to hide
like a glass house filled with ghosts,
the kind that don’t frighten me,
there’s a tone deaf dial tone
humming next to my first marital bed
from the last time I was here,
and I keep it close,
for now,
blind to the haram
of undisclosed queries,
away from those constantly
trying to know one another,
but no one knows anyone,
ever,
that’s just life.
I’m better here,
in this oasis I’ve built
for myself, with the shrine
on my fathers deathbed
which I still don’t touch,
I’m breaking the silence
with a kick at the door,
or the drop of a glass,
just to ensure I haven’t gone deaf.

 


[Howl Davies is the ringleader at The Sounds Inside.]

Something Wicked This Way Comes: Meet the New Secret First Draft!

Secret First Draft has a bold and edgy new look and is welcoming its inaugural group of SFD Writer’s Collective Members this month:

1Wise-Woman of A Lion Sleeps in the Heart of the Brave

Oloriel Moonshadow of color me in cyanide and cherry

Aurora Phoenix of insights from inside

Hudson Biko Mwalagho of Piece by Piece HB

Christina Strigas of You can’t break up with a soul mate

Zelda Reville of Zelda Reville: A Sea of Illusions

This amazing group of writers will be contributing original content to SFD. SFD is also seeking guest bloggers to keep our content fresh and exciting.  We will also continue to bring you reblogs from the writers of Sudden Denouement, Secret First Draft, Whisper and the Roar and other divergent voices we think you will want to be reading.

If you are interested in becoming a member of SFD or contributing a guest writer contact the Editors at secretfirstdraft@gmail.com

 

HUSH By Nicole Lyons

HUSH written by Nicole Lyons, is a searing collection of poems that takes the reader on an emotional ride, through the tunnel of mental illness and reckless love.

Nicole Lyons’ voice undulates from pain to ecstasy, at breakneck speed. Erotic, soulful and authentic, Nicole has written a raw memoir encapsulated in poems. Stepping off the cliff, delving into HUSH, readers will find themselves breathless and wanting more. -Julie Anderson

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 HUSH

The first book from Nicole Lyons is now available here.

Hush cover design: Sherri Smith
Hush cover model: Julie Anderson
Hush cover photo: Paul Empson Photography


You can read a glowing review by Jasper Kerkau here, and if you’re interested in reading some of the galaxy’s most liberating, moving words, I recommend that you follow the amazon link above. Nicole Lyons is the creatrix of The Lithium Chronicles, as well as being a consulting editor and writer at Sudden Denouement.