The Best of Mad Swirl : 12.04.21

by on December 5, 2021 :: 0 comments
Everything starts from a dot. Wassily Kandinsky

••• The Mad Gallery •••

Halloween Oak ~ Tony Gentry

To see all of Tony’s mad pics, as well as our other former featured artists (over 50 in total), take a virtual stroll thru Mad Swirl’s Mad Gallery!

••• The Poetry Forum •••

This past week on Mad Swirl’s Poetry Forum… we fired high from a bird’s eye; we refurbed a tired nerve; we crickets got for quiet thought; we hoped for light in tomorrow tonight; we future felt in candy melt; we cried with the sayer of a night time prayer; we missed a kiss in dawn light bliss. Om my! ~ MH Clay

Will kiss you, tomorrow again by Hem Raj Bastola

Would spend,
Hours staring!
To that adolescent,
Each moment.

What do I do?
With this treacherous time.
Neither keeps your luster forever,
Neither you can stop it,
From fading.

That vanishing cream of:
Auroral red!
Smearing on the eastern lips,
You born.
Among the hurry and haste
Of this selfish world.
Am I not involved too?

So, am I!
To appreciate you,
While walking.
That redness, that colour
Letting graze on the cultivated
Romantic sky.

You arrive!
Oh! Dawn: the daybreak.
And within seconds
You are gone again, Oh! Dawn.
Forgive me, please!
I did not have any time today,
To spend more and
To describe your beauty.

Keep going
To do your duty.
I will do mine, forbearing life.
Work is our worship: The Karma.
The servant of action.
Our destiny of each other is,
Written within this:
Circle of duty.

Do not get angry
Oh! Dawn.
I was in haste today
Will kiss you,
Tomorrow again.

December 4, 2021

editors note: Hem says, “Inspired by the daybreak aura or dawn that was red. I wanted to see it more…” – mh clay

IF I SHOULD DIE BEFORE I WAKE by Bernadette Dickenson

At the office given work
to be done by a certain time
I struggle, other things come up
people hindering me
I stand at a wooden door
of Angkor Wat

My dead husband brings home a crocodile
I put it in a safe place
he keeps letting it out
I am afraid

A phone call for my husband
his claim to have authentic Beatles’ regalia
and originals of songs from Grease
written by his cousin’s husband
worth millions they tell me
explaining to the children
their father is lying

My Apple watch wakes me with a lullaby
tears fall on my cheeks
do I cry for myself?
or are my tears for the world.

December 3, 2021

editors note: Our private grief fills a common pit. – mh clay

HARD CANDY by Vern Fein

Life is like a delicious piece
of hard candy
popped in your mouth
and sucked and sucked
until it becomes smaller and smaller
as your teeth crack the last thin piece
and you swallow it at the end.

December 2, 2021

editors note: Increase longevity, lick languorously. – mh clay

At Night by Irena Pasvinter

At night, when tomorrow morphs into today
behind the curtain of fitful dreams
and thoughts like so many branches sway
above the abyss of subconscious streams,

At night, when sorrows like ravenous worms
feast on the flesh of my tired heart,
it’s your very presence, your breath and warmth
that keep my world from falling apart.

At dawn, when tomorrow becomes today
and threads of hope flash through morning light,
let’s share this gift of another day.
With luck, tomorrow will come tonight.

December 1, 2021

editors note: Capturing that which never comes. – mh clay

thinking of li po by Rob Plath

sat on stone steps w/ cricket
under red august moon
other crickets singing
but this one moon-quiet
unlike my foolish head

November 30, 2021

editors note: Giving in to peer pressure. – mh clay

The I Root: Pushing Everafter by Steven Minchin

since you didn’t ask and you didn’t
dare I want to tell you that
I think I
will be provoked I will be
a reflex a prorated nerve revised

November 29, 2021

editors note: Metered in impulses per hour. – mh clay

Birds Eye View by S. A. Gerber

sparks erupt
from the
dragging of
shredded medal

on the
asphalt street.
a birds
eye view

of an
impending fire.
the only
phone in

the hallway
is broken.
she sits

in panties,
on the
bed, eating
raw almonds.

she reaches
over to
crank up
the music

on the
cheap radio,
as the
screaming begins.

November 28, 2021

editors note: Ecstacy, agony; if only to break the link, from a bird’s eye view. – mh clay

••• Short Stories •••

If you’re lookin’ for a read this weekend, Atlantic Hunting Grounds by Glenn Bresciani is sure to float your boat!

Here’s what Short Story Editor Tyler Malone has to say about this pick’o the weekend:

“Here lies another fresh kill, freshly killed just to kill again. And again. And again.”

Here’s a bit of this shipwreck of a tale to get you on your way:

(photo “Wreckage, Alive” by Tyler Malone)

Sailing the chill waters of the Atlantic Ocean, the cargo ship MS Harper is the only speck of brightness in the vast moonless night. Floodlights illuminate the shipping containers stacked on top of one another. Some scuffed, some dented, all of them with their rectangular space occupied by a brand-new Korean car.

Florescent lights shine through the bridge windows, while inside the bridge, the night watch is convinced that they are the only ship for miles. Harper’s radar tells them so. It detects nothing. But that’s understandable, as radio waves have never once bounced off the supernatural. The two exist in completely different realms…

Catch the rest of this read wave right here!


If you find you Need-a-Read, we think our featured story, THE THING. by Contributing Writer & Poet, James Rodehaver will fill that need quite perfectly.

Here’s what Short Story Editor Tyler Malone has to say about this pick’o the weekday:

“Adventure awaits! But so does the end, and the end will live on.”

If we’ve piqued your interest, here’s a perfect tease to get you goin’:

(photo “A Face Mummy Could Love” by Tyler Malone)

For dad, and his wild heart.

Once when we were children, our father kidnapped us from our mother to take us across the desert. His wood-paneled station wagon roared through El Paso, New Mexico, and Arizona. I played with my prize toy, an E.T. plush, in the back of that car under a white sheet. In school I had been called E.T. because of my long neck and big eyes and ears. My plushie made me feel like I at least had one other alien weirdo like myself to go through life with. I don’t remember where exactly Dad was taking us but one of the strangest experiences of my young life occurred during that exodus. New Mexico and Arizona offered up all sorts of desert oddities with enticingly weird road signs, but we never stopped for any of them—save one. There was one road sign that snared even my father’s attention. In big letters it said: COME SEE THE THING! As we got closer to the area of the roadside attraction, other signs called to us like desert sirens. WHAT IS IT? THE WEIRDEST THING YOU’LL EVER SEE! YOU’RE GETTING CLOSER TO THE THING! My excitement level grew each time, and my dad’s interest was clearly piqued. My little sister gave not one bit of a damn…

We know you gotta see what “THE THING.” brings so shuffle on over here & get you some!

••• Open Mic •••

If you joined Mad Swirl Open Mic this past 1st Wednesday of December (aka 12.01.21) at our OC home, Barbara’s Pavillion, you know that we celebrated the Swirl-tide season by whirlin’ up the Swirl and gettin’ the Mad mic opened for all you Mad ones out there!

Here’s a shout out to all who graced our stage (LIVE & VIRTUAL) with your words, your songs, your divine madness…

Johnny O
MH Clay

Musical Overture:
(ol’ s’cool) Swirve (Chris & Tamitha Curiel, Gerard Bendiks)

Round One:
Alan Gann
Atenea Afrodita
Roderick Richardson
Marianne Szlyk
Ethan Goffman
Susan Duval
Giulio Magrini
Tony Robinson
Anthony Ripp

Round Two:
Harry McNabb
Suza Kanon
Elliot Hill
Josh Weir
Dick Zinnendorf

HUGE grats to ALL the participators & appreciators who rode the Mad wave from Barbara’s as well as our FB Live feed! We know you have a few choices of what to do with your Wednesday night & you picked to hang out with lil ol’ us us!

Be safe & ’til next 1st Wednesday (aka 01.05.22)… may the madness swirl your way!

Johnny O

P.S. In case you missed the LIVE feeds, your eye can spy on these virtual Swirl’n scenes right here…


The whole Mad Swirl of everything to come keeps on keepin’ on… now… now… NOW! Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year, every decade, every every EVERY there is! Wanna join in the mad conversations going on in Mad Swirl’s World? Then stop by whenever the mood strikes! We’ll be here bein’…


Johnny O
Chief Editor

MH Clay
Poetry Editor

Tyler Malone
Short Story Editor

Madelyn Olson
Visual Editor

Mike Fiorito
Associate Editor

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