Mad Swirl Open Mic : 12.02.20

Mad Swirl Open Mic : 12.02.20
Join Mad Swirl Open Mic THIS 1st Wednesday of the December (aka 12.02.20), as we once again whirl up the Swirl VIRTUALLY, opening the mic for all you Mad ones out there! Maximizing the powers of technology & broadcasting from Big D & blastin' off into the interwebs! Starting at 7:30pm (CST), join hosts Johnny O[read more]

The Best of Mad Swirl : 11.21.20

The Best of Mad Swirl : 11.21.20
"Be faithful to that which exists within yourself" André Gide ••• The Mad Gallery ••• laugh louder - Madelyn Olson To see more of Maddi's mad new cast of diverse characters & canvases, as well as our other former featured artists (51 in total) at Mad Swirl’s Mad Gallery! ••• The Poetry Forum ••• This last week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum... we red[read more]

Mad Swirl Merch Holidaze Sale

Mad Swirl Merch Holidaze Sale
Extra! Extra! Read ALL about it! Mad Swirl Merch available just in time for the holidaze! The whole mad swirl of merch begins right here, at our online store! If you haven’t already got yourself some mad threads to sport, then you’ve come to the right post. What's new? Mad Facemasks!, Neck Gaiters!, Zipped Hoodies!, Fun Socks! We still[read more]


Early morning is the first paraffin
of the sun – white, clear like a headache;
It melts down the earth
and softens the grass
I am lost

Lying face down in the tender
furrows of my soft green pillows like
the furrows
in the grass, I am the end of this all

This is my home
I listen to
endless morning chants
of worms and millipedes

I am one of them in the morning,
for some more darkness

Recently Published

my cat watches in silence

my cat watches in silence
as i pace midnight floors of agony
and trace shadows with stiff fingers
and lean against painted walls

my cat[read more]

On the Drive to the Shaman

Over the edge
And straight on through
Into fields
Of ancient geometry
Our inner reflections
Dangling high
On the wandering wing
Of a condor
A helix
Of humming shapes
And cascading colours
Sweeping over
Holy pillars of[read more]


One of those days when I can’t decide
how many humps in an m, the number
of ans in banana, how Achilles
could ever overtake the tortoise, Death
and[read more]

Peace Lily

Peace Lily

I lift my eyes from my work as a light moves across the living room—the sun glinting off her windshield as she approaches the house. My thoughts are drowned out by the muted crackle of tires slowing their roll against the road. Apprehension turns to dread, turns to defeat, as the garage door opens and the whole house hums. Her car creaks as it wobbles across the dip at the end of the driveway, beginning its ascent with all the grace of a seal climbing a beach. The hammer bounces in[read more]
High Tea

High Tea

He awoke as General George Armstrong Custer. What's more, he was in the thick of the fight. The Indian took stock. “It's ironic,” he told himself, “but I'm General Custer.” Just then an arrow flew past his chin. The Indian as Custer looked around. He and his men were trapped! On the crest of a tree-less rounded hill! With hostile Indians attacking all around! Then it hit him: Jehoshaphat! It's Little Big Horn! The Indian smoothed his whiskers. He was a redhead now, a general. In seconds he realized they were[read more]


It was not the torso that Greeks and Romans sculpted for generations to immortalize the ideal physique; neither the Celtic mane of a Scottish highlander nor the stature of an Amazonian warrior. It was simply the freckles on his irises that brought it all about, an obsession that changed the entire course of my life. His eyes reminded me of the planets I used to view in one of the books on my dad’s bookshelf when I was a child. They possessed a celestiality that emboldened my gazes beyond the[read more]