The Best of Mad Swirl : 09.23.16

The Best of Mad Swirl : 09.23.16
"Genius is the ability to put into effect what is on your mind." ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald ••• The Mad Gallery ••• “Arriving Unseen Inside Light” (above) by featured artist Bill Wolak. To see more of Bill's mad canvases, as well as our other featured artists, visit our mad Gallery at! ••• The Poetry Forum ••• This last week[read more]

Mad Swirl Open Mic: 10.05.16

Mad Swirl Open Mic: 10.05.16
Join Mad Swirl & Swirve this 1st Wednesday of October (aka 10.05.16) at 8:00 SHARP as we continue to swirl up our mic madness at our NEW mad mic-ness home, Dallas’ badass City Tavern! This month we will be featurin' loco local singer/songwriter Jake Kinnard! Come on out, one & all. Get a heapin' helpin' of musical[read more]

The Best of Mad Swirl : 09.17.16

The Best of Mad Swirl : 09.17.16
"I only give expression to the instincts from my soul." ~ M. F. Husain ••• The Mad Gallery ••• “The Relentless Resonance of Her Nakedness” (above) by featured artist Bill Wolak. To see more of Bill's mad canvases, as well as our other featured artists, visit our mad Gallery at! ••• The Poetry Forum ••• This last week in[read more]

Excavate this city.

Excavate this city.
(Dig me out.)

Let love pull whole cities out of me.
Cities filled with everything love ever needed to replace.

Pain is the asphalt, heartbreak builds character
And towers as tall as daylight.

Somebody’s gotta do the dirty work.
Let it be love.

Let love excavate my ego,
my pulsing need to be noticed,
to be vindicated.

Let’s tell the paradise of orgies and organs what we really think of it.

Let’s allow our pain to trap itself,
trap everything else that falls into it,
attracted by the scent.

Pull the worst of me out by the roots,
and burn it until the smoke rises high and asphyxiates
every vile goddamned seraphim who dared to judge me.

You have no city,
you can’t grow or build,
can’t excavate or replace.

The poor bastards only have paradise.

All they got is love,
a medicine deemed useless without the sickness.

Just give it away,
to someone who knows how to fucking use it.
Don’t judge.

I’m collecting cities,
(the ones I haven’t burned to the ground,)
that stand dried out, still and sterile
with calcified hurt and petrified anger.

I place their empty shells next to each other,
a growing black metropolis filled with every single time I hated god,
or the world,
and tried to prove it.

There are more attempted suicides buried there than demons.
More skyscrapers to my ego and detriment there than I hold inside me now.

Without the tinkerer, excavator, surgeon,
I’d have nuked the whole icky black
growing mass of mess in me
to hell a long, long time ago.

Even a blast crater is better than an empty paradise.

Dig me out, man,
it’s time.
It’s growing bigger than I’m growing.

And I’m getting up there,
haven’t you heard?
Hell, I got heartbreak towers.

Tall as the everlovin morning.

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The Lion Sleeps Tonight

“Did you come?” She was quiet, laying there on her back, her eyes closed. I guessed she did. She acted that way. I was just asking. She didn’t answer. I felt stupid asking a second time, but did anyway. “Did you come?” I asked. “Yes! Yes!” she said in an exasperated tone. “I did.” “Sorry,” I said. “Don’t be sorry. And don’t ask! God!” “I thought you did. I just wasn’t sure.” “Why do you have to ask? I could tell you came. So did the people upstairs. So did everyone in Borneo.” “Sorry,” I repeated. “Stop saying you’re[read more]
The Wall

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Once upon a once upon a time time time I gave up on my life—that is I gave up all the things that make life worth living. Like hoping, wanting, wishing—in fact I gave up as many feelings as I could get rid of. Strange how that works. You decide—only semi-awarely—to stop feeling pain. You put up a wall—invisible, impenetrable—surrounding you. Seems reasonable enough. If the wall is thick enough, no one can hurt you, disappoint you, reject you. Right? But the wall takes over—develops a life of its own. What you don’t realize— what I[read more]
Earth Angel

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Soon after it happened, police cars swarmed in, followed by a fire truck and an ambulance. She watched them all evening from her second floor window that looked out over the parking lot, red and blue and green lights swirling through the darkness like kaleidoscopic searchlights. Around midnight, upset and nervous, she went to bed, wondering if she should check out and disappear, wondering when the knock at the door would come, if she didn’t; wondering why emergency vehicles never seemed to turn off their motors. The next morning, first thing,[read more]