The Best of Mad Swirl : 01.25.20

The Best of Mad Swirl : 01.25.20
“Odd how the creative power at once brings the whole universe to order.” Virginia Woolf ••• The Mad Gallery ••• The Mad Juju ~ Nawwar Morelli Mad Swirl welcomes Latakia-based artist, Nawwar Morelli, to our visual ‘stage’ and boy, are we excited to do so! With bendy limbed, exaggerated and deformed subjects, splashes and splatters of pleasing palettes and[read more]

New Featured Artist: Nawwar Morelli

New Featured Artist: Nawwar Morelli
The Mad Juju – Nawwar Morelli Mad Swirl welcomes Latakia-based artist, Nawwar Morelli, to our visual ‘stage’ and boy, are we excited to do so!With bendy limbed, exaggerated and deformed subjects, splashes and splatters of pleasing palettes and moody faces galore, we found ourselves instantly drawn into Morelli’s work. Morelli’s art is mad in just the way we like[read more]

Mad Swirl Open Mic : 02.05.20

Mad Swirl Open Mic : 02.05.20
Join Mad Swirl Open Mic THE 1st Wednesday of February (aka 02.05.20) at 8:00 SHARP as we swirl it up at once again at Top Ten Records! To kick things off, Swirve (Chris Curiel- trumpet/Tamitha Curiel - vocals) will start us off with some Mad musical grooves. After that, hosts Johnny O & MH Clay will invite[read more]

The Real Secret

Life is nothing
but the striking
of a match
in the darkness.

Being enamored
with the flame
doesn’t make it
any more than it is.

It’s just a little fire

Which can be beautiful
sure,
but it’s still only a
temporary respite
from the dark.

Nothing to
fall in love with,

unless you’re crazy.

But I’ve been
crazy before…

haven’t you?

Recently Published

RELAPSE

It is late and the sun will not be up
For hours yet. At my age dreams are more dull
Than fantastic. In that half trance of
The[read more]

A BORDER COLLIE MIX SPEAKS WITH HIS MAKER

On a Friday somewhere, so hot the streets
Were steaming, a border collie mix, who
Knew Latin and ancient scripture, went from
This life to a life to[read more]

Your Abandoned Joy

Kid, no one’s gonna give you
back your abandoned joy

you gotta steal it
when nobody’s looking

or even when they are

flipping ’em the bird
like you mean it

running[read more]

Blooming

Blooming

An Excerpt of Sleeping Beauty There was kiss me under the Golden Bough mistletoe, yes Virgil says it was gilt wholly golden, so named possibly from the clinquant tint the cut limb acquires when kept to wither glittering through a season. Was not the sun’s firelight, or a modicum thereof, supposed to radiate from this shrub gathered all in all to celebrate the two solstices even a tiny offshoot of which has been said to inspire Tiresian dreams if picked Midsummer Eve and put under one’s pillow? Parasite perhaps yet did[read more]
Drifted Away

Drifted Away

Off like a shot, the years just drifted away for two young men. John and Nick grew up together on Harrison Avenue. Their fathers worked at blue collar jobs and the mothers stayed at home. The moms didn’t all bake cookies but they were there to put band-aids on the scrapes and cuts and cooled the bruises with ice cubes from those cold metal trays. In the summer of seventy-one the world was magical and it was theirs to consume. Money was short and the days were long. Desires ran high[read more]
Ring

Ring

Mother tosses that gold ring down the toilet. It strikes the bottom. Clink. “A metaphor for your father.” She laughs. Laughter cracked. She holds the handle, as if one gesture will unleash something frightening. As if he hasn’t been gone a whole year. “Shall I?” “Go for it.” I remember Dad making the announcement, words so matter-of-fact. Mother’s words, husky, harsh. Betrayal, bastard. When did you stop loving me, asshole? She pulls the handle hard. Once. Twice. “Watch, Nicky.” The ring swirls in a kaleidoscopic dance, swirling, until it’s enveloped. We hold each other, watching the[read more]