The Best of Mad Swirl : 06.01.24

by June 2, 2024 0 comments

Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness.

Allen Ginsberg

••• The Mad Gallery •••

Whirlpool of Life ~ Andrea Damic

Mad Swirl is excited to welcome Andrea Damic back to the Mad Gallery, who captivates us time and time again with her abstract digital art, weaving symmetrical patterns that draw us into a mesmerizing, dark, and trippy realm. Damic’s work pulses with an almost hypnotic energy, blending complex geometries with deep, rich hues — a sense of otherworldly mystery. We highly recommend taking a step into this other-world she creates, and seeing it all for yourself! ~ Madelyn Olson

To see all Andrea’s hypnotically symmetric works, as well as our other resident artists (50+ and counting!) take a virtual stroll thru Mad Swirl’s Mad Gallery!

••• The Poetry Forum •••

This last week on Mad Swirl’s Poetry Forum… we got group fret o’er our nonet; we happiness craved, then scared it away; we diamond gleamed from dirt redeemed; we sought redress from an ogress; we were wronged by a thong; we heard a glib talker describe a fair walker; we would life move in a slow groove. So many words to write before we’re through. ~ MH Clay

Before You Were a Whisper… by Sheighle Birdthistle

Before you were a whisper in the wind
I danced. It was I who shaped the clouds
That escaped the sun. Who sang like the
Thrill of a bird set free.
I danced and sang and blew kisses to
The sky as my spirit washed in the
Sea waves. The wonder of life gleamed
On my skin warmed by the sun
I still know the wonder, the dawn and the
Sunset. As the earth moves and each day
Breaks… I walk slowly to eternity.

June 1, 2024

editors note: With our whisper, we would be heard in tomorrow’s ear. – mh clay

Lovely by Jayanta Bhaumik

First when I had heard this word I’m sure
it wasn’t the first day for me.
The first girl, always a sombre evening
full of aspects, a shadow broken on your forehead,
indigo graphs parting, a false bridge
and an unpredictable curious river leaving onto two sides.
All I now sense was all sands, fuzzed up, crepuscular.
So good.
And good means without any trial and error – an arrow,
only good to watch. Only in preparation, never shot.
I was made to smile in a topple. An unrigid ocular pack,
a window suddenly over a horizon,
window – that’s me, as if divulging out a tiny sea,
tiny, tiny.
First when I had to see a huge puddle, a grain of sand
nice to shadow everything. Everything, that is the sea.
First time, it happened nothing, but I still feel I were
snuffed out bye-bye. That to say, people all
whispering, winces, and
winces, gossiping, and gossiping, telling each other,
how she walked minutes before along the beach.
Then found nowhere.
The sun bending down to the other side by then.
And sure, lovely.

May 31, 2024

editors note: And when she passes, each one she passes goes… – mh clay

NO COMMENT by L.E. Douglas

Mr. Duarte has
more than once

A trot
through the
work place
in a thong

Jane says
he’ll do it
She’s worked with him
for years

So imagine my
a pair of
unclaimed underwear
his workstation

He’s not talking

May 30, 2024

editors note: Better left unsaid. – mh clay


The Ogress of Progress visits me in a dream. Offers to buy my house for the promise of unlimited licks at her O-ring.

I decline the privilege.

She tells it to the Marines.

A company that night kick down my door. Bomb the carpet. One of their special agents sprays me green. They are fogging the rooms, when out the backdoor I flee.

Bump into a pack of other refugees, who show me how, with fingers and nails, to dig a hole in the shadow of the Ogress.

That morning, I creep from my hole to the library, to get the news.

Read online they will soon shoot us to the moon. Conquer next Mars; to use as a jump-off to reach Titan; there to have all the gas they want; on the way tighten our nuts, bolt our butts to swivel chairs, screw the brain and pack our wombs with wet cement. So their children – spewed from a musk elongating through the Gates of a Billionfold – will still not see what it all meant.

May 29, 2024

editors note: So long as that meanin’ ain’t mean. – mh clay

Autochthonous (sprung from the land itself) by Randall Rogers

of bold
soil creatures
salted in the land
toothpick footprint
stilts dancing
the ages
eyes dirt clod
coal seeing
through diamond’s
prism into
happiness of night.

May 28, 2024

editors note: This giggling golem gets it good. – mh clay

Birdbrain by Ivan Jenson

I am crop circling
around the issue
never wanting
to get to the point
of no return
because it hurts
to laugh at slapstick
when I am the one
doing the pratfalls
and the one jumping
through hoops
where hope
and despair intersect
with much respect
to those who spin
lies and wear bow ties
and swat sadness
like pesky flies
I personally can
no longer fake it
to make it
or bake it
to take it
to a get-together
when I am falling apart
at the seams
like a scarecrow
stuffed with hay
only able to scare
happiness away

May 27, 2024

editors note: When your bluebird’s got the blues… – mh clay

University Creative Writing Club by Richard LeDue

My nine line poem circulates
like a minor infection
we’re too stubborn to wait for
at a doctor’s office for a prescription,
and the professor holds a pencil,
sharp as a scalpel starving for surgery,
underlining lines suffering
from cliches and malignant wording,
while my metaphor comparing
a lovely face to a watering can
quenches some of the more romantic members,
but the professor wasn’t fooled
by my diseased sentimentality,
which left me with another scar
I laugh about now
because there’s no other way.

May 26, 2024

editors note: The club where clubbers take a clubbing for art. – mh clay

••• Short Stories •••

If you’re looking for an omen, You Shouldn’t Be Here by K. J. Watson just might be the wicked read you need!

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

The darkworld is all around us so just walk, nothing is stopping you from leaving the light of what you know.

Here’s a few chills to get your goosebumps goin’:

Trespasser ~ Tyler Malone

A chain and padlock ensured no one could open the gates of the park. Eva had expected this. She glanced at a wooden board. It read: Closed, dusk to dawn.

Eva grasped the vertical bars of one of the gates and hauled herself over the top. The chain rattled as she jumped and landed on an asphalt path. With a three-quarter moon above, she could see cut grass and flower beds on either side. Distant trees, huddled in scattered copses, proved less distinct.

She had set herself a challenge: to break into the closed park on this summer night. But now that she’d climbed over the gate, she wondered what to do next. She remembered a school history lesson. Years ago, a rich Edwardian had financed the construction of the park for the benefit of local residents. He’d bought thirteen acres of land and surrounded it with iron railings. A team of gardeners had then set to work.

Boring, Eva thought and ambled along the path. Movement among a copse caught her eye. A branch twitched and something jumped to the ground. It seemed a lot bulkier than, say, a cat.

The mystery creature aroused her curiosity…

If your interest is also piqued, get the rest of this read right here!

••• Open Mic •••

Join Mad Swirl this 1st Wednesday of June (aka 06.05.24) when we’ll be doin’ the open mic voodoo that we do do at our OC home, BARBARA’S PAVILLION!

Hosts Johnny O & MH Clay will open the mad mic, starting with some musical grooves brought to you by Swirve (Chris & Tamitha Curiel, Gerard Bendiks).

This month we will be featuring B. Randall! (Learn more about B. Randall: Facebook / Instagram)

Come one. Come all. Come to participate…

(preRSVP at our Facebook event page or send a message to

Come to appreciate…

(join us LIVE at Barbara’s Pavillion- located at 323 Centre St, Dallas -OR- tune in to our Facebook LIVE feed starting at 8pm)

Come to be a part of this collective creative love child we affectionately call… Mad Swirl!

P.S. Here is the full line-up of remaining features for 2024:

July: Joaquin Zihuatanejo / GNO
August: Roderick Richardson
September: Desmene Statum
October: PW Covington
November: Mad Swirl Open Mic 20th Anniversary
December: Holiday Special


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

Showin’ It,

Johnny O
Chief Editor

MH Clay
Poetry Editor

Tyler Malone
Short Story Editor

Madelyn Olson
Visual Editor

Leave a Reply