Sugarcoating a Burnt Loaf Doesn’t Work

featured in the poetry forum January 15, 2019  :: 0 comments

Dark Circles

I wish saying that
We got these wounds
Because the dark night
Likes to leave its mark
On those who fight its dear friend sleep
Makes them glorious
But it doesn’t


I wish saying that
We blew pixie dust
From moist, little rolls of ivory
Dusted with burnt gold
Makes it magical
But it doesn’t


I wish saying that
We sipped on the souls
Of the gems that adorn a vine
From sand frozen from heat
Makes it fantastical
But it doesn’t

– Swagi Desai

editors note:

Glorious, magical, fantastical fails; sweet in the trying, blameless in the lying. – mh clay

Becky’s Clap-back

featured in the poetry forum January 14, 2019  :: 0 comments

I am invisible
to the mind fucking
gas lighting cunts
cut off the gangrene
before the septum rots
from too much
cocaine and child abuse.

Rule #3:
Do not engage the crazies.

I am immune
to the stank eyed
hater-aid drinking
flakes flaking
off of rubber sheets
in round rooms
this is all the therapy I need
mother fuck your mama
divorce diva is divine.

You ol’ one-bullet-Barney
limp wristed slack jaw
sideways speaking

Don’t break your fool neck
eating twat waffles.

Who is this fuck face user loser
banking on bets & black horses
with broken legs
racing the nuclear clock.

Shouldn’t have quit
smoking and drinking
Shouldn’t have quit
fucking for the experience
fucking everyone
who can
lie the best
with their smiles.

Then maybe,
you could’ve
drank the Drano
or went out
like a cartoon cigar
exploding landmine situations
in black bars with
too much fucking light.

Dammit mama,
it’s gonna take
too much
alcohol and coke
to dissolve all this
self loathing
because you’re too
with marrying the big time.

The necrotic never see reverse;
backwards fisting
whatever excuse
gets you high.

– Desmene Statum

editors note:

It’s hard not to break #3 when you’re the crazy. – mh clay


featured in the poetry forum January 9, 2019  :: 0 comments

a chain hanging from the ceiling
a piano hanging from the chain
I stand beneath

it falls

doesn’t smash
the keys don’t fall out
like my teeth

it plays a song
sounds like a car crash
a horror movie
the monster jumps out – wearing a mask
and tries to kill me


it’s just applause
the song is finished

the monster is clapping
in the audience
all wearing masks

so am I

– Kate Minter

editors note:

Nightmare? Or, average day in the work place? – mh clay

Schoolyard Game

featured in the poetry forum January 4, 2019  :: 0 comments

There are circles within squares,
Squares perfectly painted
Corners crisp as an ironed shirt
Sharp as a razor tongued wife
The circle not quite as perfect
One curve scuffed from..
Paw prints?
A red rubber ball, the size of last year’s Halloween pumpkin,
Sits off-center
Rocking back and forth in the breeze.
There is something to this configuration
An alignment of mathematical possibilities that
Might explain everything
Some meaning to ‘why?’ if I just squint hard enough.
But the circle within the square with the red ball
Sits silent under the cloudy blue sky.
A breeze stirs, a slight exhalation, so faint
It’s felt not heard.
It has to mean something, doesn’t it? The circle, the square,
The ball?
A crow perched on a wall ponders the same, I know,
Muttering, shaking his head, fluffing feathers until
A loud screech signals the release of a
Horde of 8 year olds,
Bearing down on me like the
Last wave at the end of the world,
Flowing around me like a boulder in their river.
Red ball picked up
Some go into the circle
The rest shake out in the square
And begin a game that involves
Hand slapping
Throwing the ball as hard as they can
At someone’s face
And screams of ‘cheater!

– Mike Horan

editors note:

Making meaning from the melee is a dodgy deed. – mh clay


featured in the poetry forum December 31, 2018  :: 0 comments

You don’t know it, but you inspired me today
You threw your hand out of your window in a peace sign as you were changing lanes
And I’ll never meet you
I’ll never know your name
It wouldn’t matter if you were Jewish, black, or gay, because we really are the same
And maybe it is the end of the world
“The final stage of Evolution”
Well, so what if it is?
I’d like to see a revolution
I’d like to see people care
about a little bit more than the box office
or what celebrities wear
I’d like for people to pay more attention
to the words that they choose
And the things that they mention
But it’s just me wishing out loud
I’ve got my head in the clouds
All I want from humanity is a reason to be proud
Because we are going downhill
Or maybe it’s just the way it’s always been
But I want better than mundane if this really is the end
I haven’t lived long
But I’ve had enough time
to appreciate the night sky
and the way that words rhyme
I can’t help but feel
that we’ve lost that sense of real emotion
It’s what we try so hard to kill
with our mindless ways to pass the time;
drugs, alcohol, social media,
and all of these TV shows about crime
But it’s not too late, we don’t have to destroy ourselves
I’m trying to change the world
and I’m asking for your help

– Kerby Purser

editors note:

I’m in! Happy New Year! – mh clay

when mind rests…

featured in the poetry forum December 12, 2018  :: 0 comments

what peaceful sea shore;
flat waters pay triple tours,
and the land says more…

– Olude Peter Sunday

editors note: The best environmental policy? Shut up and listen! – mh clay

You know what it means

featured in the poetry forum December 10, 2018  :: 0 comments

Piece of mind. Metal mind. Heavy metal mind. Try as I might. I cannot you. You cannot me. Death star. Unrelenting. Tree of being. Tree of bubbles in the water. Trace. Trace your hand. Understand. You cannot be real. You are unreal. You are a meal for a godlike being. Oh can’t you see. You’re a lot stronger than me. And I get along, albeit. Albeit. Better feel your digit. Spittle on your digit. On a weird sad evening. Cancer sticks. Your spit. The house quiet and alone and vast like the ocean floor. Beyond read. Beyond mouth. Beyond stick insect. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice to the pariahs. You are them, somewhere. Your hair, your eyes, your mouth, your read, your see, your love, your bothered mucousy drum. Dot. Forward Slash. The onion. Brutal. Objective. No one home. Undead. Wandering in a snow globe. You can’t believe. You want to believe. You want to communicate. But you can’t. Haha, you can’t. Haha, you can’t. Haha, you can’t. You are endless. You tear up pictures of God in your room. Wasting. Being stupid. Adoring. Muscles. Breasts. Redeeming. Spudlike. A dud. Poison in your brain. Rasputin in your eyes and ears. King over pages of forced writing. Goodness. Gracious. Look at the day, try to make out the hieroglyphs. Pleasant dreams. Jar of rainbows. Kicking the kickball. Monster. You. Unloaded. Unwanted. Busy bee. Cowering sleeplessly. Canyon of windows. You know you know you know you know you know you know you know you know you know what it means.

– Harry McNabb

editors note: Oh, how much pain will we gain because we do? – mh clay


featured in the poetry forum December 5, 2018  :: 0 comments

Vacuum everywhere.
My fist
Your fist
Our hope
The river of love
etc and etc.

Nothing is comfort
The road we walk
The air we breath
The weather we deserve.

Vacuum everywhere.
The holyness we tried to be admired.
The brotherhood we tried to be exercised.
The fellow feelings we tried to be continued.

The heaven of peace is burnt up.
Chaos prevailing all around.

We have to remove the history of this time.
We have to create a new world for the new generation.
The intolerance to be tolerated.
The chain of our feet has to turn into anklet.

– Rajumoni Saikia

editors note: Will we create anew? How much can we take to make shackles shine? – mh clay

“I love You”

featured in the poetry forum December 3, 2018  :: 0 comments

“I love you” is a liability
A heavy burden; a responsibility
“Let’s just have fun”, you say
Let’s have fun until you decay
Till all of your beauty
Fades away
I waste your life; 3 months at a time
I get what I want in this victimless crime
“I love you” is a hook
And you’re easy bait
I will screw you over
Then blame it on fate
Hope is a carrot
I dangle in front of your face
The moment you complain
I’ll leave without a trace

– Dana Al Rashid

editors note: Sweet to hear, sweet to say. Beware! They’re not always meant that way. – mh clay

Another Night

featured in the poetry forum December 2, 2018  :: 0 comments

Twisted bedsheets, tangled limbs.
The fury of another night, war torn

and scarred. The enemy, myself.
A battleground of my mind.

Relentless images invade
with incessant word. Pillows

and blankets litter the floor,
innocent victims of the onslaught.

A glaring clock mocks as
minutes turn to hours, and

a litany of worries parade across
the ceiling, no redemption in sight.

I pray for peace. I count my breaths,
waiting for sleep, an elusive friend,

to take me by the hand. Another night
of fury, and still no rest within reach.

– Ann Christine Tabaka

editors note: Augh! If we’re counting, we damn sure ain’t sleeping. – mh clay