I do not go in search of poetry. I wait for poetry to visit me.

Eugenio Montale

••• The Mad Gallery •••

American Sunset 4 by Tobias Sallewsky

To see more of the world thru Tobias’s lens, as well as our other resident artists, take a virtual stroll thru Mad Swirl’s Mad Gallery!

••• The Poetry Forum •••

This last week on Mad Swirl’s Poetry Forum… we stuck again for child in brain; we gleamed the groove where Mayfield moved; we grammar gaffes avoid; we angered and annoyed; we spun the wheel of chems to heal; we embraced the brio of a rebel trio; we phrased fears on deaf ears; we sought the sooth in tears of truth. Our right’s in sight to write, our wrongs to right. ~ MH Clay

Another Drop by Stephen Jarrell Williams

I woke up this morning
with a sniff of the future

blood dripping
from one nostril

surprised that my wife
was awake and staring

outside through the open window
seemingly in a trance

summer rain pouring
against the beginning heat

people flinching
in their burning dreams

money a flip of dollar bills
into a puff of smoky nonsense

thousands of artists painting
every angle of nudity

scientists formulating
endless equations of roots and toots

too many with the thirst for fame
swallowing it like a hotdog contest

tent cities multiplying
with needles and butt grease

dogs circling
the final collapse

my wife blinking
blinking

ocean and sky
ready to tell the truth

one tear at a time.

October 12, 2024

editors note: We need an existential nasal spray to spritz this morning dread away. – mh clay

EYE AMERIKA by Mike Zone

Shiny dragon demons sprawled out on the sidewalk like a bitch in heat
cracking concrete
Amerikan dreaming
huckster-smith deathblow
oncoming
wages of disparity
patriot’s promise
rotten apple wrapped in a flag stuffed in your hog-faced mouth with nothing
taxes
always begging for more in a system of limitless tax breaks and appeals
touch the sky
to eat the pie
SUPPORT OUR TROOPS
PRAISE TRIUMPH OVER FREEDOM
FEELINGS OVER FACTS
FREEDOM ISN’T FREE
freedom is doing what’s right
not what you want
star-spangled prayer
corporate states of fragmented amerika
leaders lend their ears…
deaf

October 11, 2024

editors note: Speak up! They can’t hear you. – mh clay

hard time eyes by Jason Baldinger

three confederate skeletons
molder through a dogwood night
second avenue lights shine
from downtown oasis
past where motels go to pasture
and green corn begins its rise

three confederate skeletons
gray hair growing down
the backs of kiss tees
baggy jeans printed with ohio river mud
they double time it back to camp
past the cadillac motel and halfway house
mutton warms on the fire
greybacks burning in their pockets
old jeff davis eyes wide after a taste
the south will rise again

three confederate skeletons pass
the woman at the liquor store
stashes moonshine pints
as victor, announced by doorbell
asks for a bottle of wine
she looks at him with hard time eyes
honey, I don’t know a goddamn
thing about no wine

October 10, 2024

editors note: The ravages of reconstruction rage on. – mh clay

Chemical Warfare by David Ratcliffe

It’s the discreet hermit
heavily armed
driven by greed
taking out innocents
as they sleep.

The fascist in the playground
intimidating the head
shocking the faculty
to self-destruct
at the mere mention of its name.

The bad seed plotting idly
in rich terrain,
patiently waiting for defences to lower
before anchoring its parasitic root;
covertly defining its existence,
consuming tired cells
growing into mass
before spreading tentacles
as it slowly consumes the host.

It’s the hopelessness that kills
when witnessing a loved-one suffering
as chemical warfare begins
with collateral damage evident
while all hope is pinned
on a positive response.

Shouting silently in my head
I demand the malignant bastard
to leave her alone
stop pulling at the weft
of her fine tapestry;
hoping the herbicide kills the weed
and not the plant.

Yet she smiles, unable to walk now
as she’s pushed through corridors
smiling, thankful
always graceful
forever youthful
eternally kind.

October 9, 2024

editors note: The best of modern medicine: If we’re going to save you, we’re going to try to kill you first. – mh clay

Annoyed by Joseph Farley

Everyone has a god given right
To be annoying.

Some people are aware of this
More than others.

They find fulfillment
In pissing off everyone.

Others are more quiet about it,
Shy or unaware.

The latter save their powers
Of annoyance,

Letting it gather strength,
Before unleashing it all

In a single burst
Of screams or bullets,

Or let it drip out over time
Through silent acts

Of rudeness.

It is okay.
I understand.

I can give
As good as I get.

Although I try to stay
On the other side

Of the street
If I see anyone coming

Who might
Tick me off.

October 8, 2024

editors note: Please keep your annoyance to yourself. – mh clay

Query by Timothy Pilgrim

Wouldn’t we all agree a texted question

of fifty words, counting contractions

and those hyphenated or in phrases —

but excluding commas, dashes

or question marks, and those

over-embellished

with alluring alliteration

or cute, crafty consonance —

should never end with umpteen emojis,

tiny yellowed faces trapped

in guffaw, grimace, snarl, scream?

October 8, 2024

editors note: winky face, smiley face… – mh clay

ode to curtis mayfield by Carl Kavadlo

the thing is—and
the catch-22 is
and the psychologically
valid fact is—
you can’t do it unless you’re all there—

it’s the platform
on which
your carriage
arrives and
leaves.
it’s the psychologically
valid state
where the art
music
the poets
dancers sing from.

it doesn’t happen
outside of that
zone
region
territory-space
mind-set
intake.
it doesn’t take
bribes
or hand-outs.
threats—
magic present-
moment
mojo once more.
today we wait
a long time
in
the station.

October 7, 2024

editors note: We all got tickets, just waitin’ on that train… – mh clay

Greasing glue by Hem Raj Bastola

Figment to figment,

Scratching!

Investigating himself,

To advance ahead.

He is young and so keen!

And his ardent eyes

Always looking for the:

Child in his brain.

He is thirsty!

Let him run to drink

Every dream is a hope!

For you want to attain.

Shimmering like a mirage!

It’s a fundamental theme.

A flight of fancy take,

Experiencewise:

Let him learn through

His eagle eyes.

To secure his vision.

Your vision! My vision!

Applying every effort,

Representing longings

Of each human.

I see him in a canvas,

Greasing glue:

To stick his dreams.

October 6, 2024

editors note: Gotta get some o’ that glue! – mh clay

••• Short Stories •••

This week’s featured read,”She Didn’t Turn Around“ comes to us from Contributing Writer James Lawless.

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

In times of madness, the mundane can seem like a gift.

Here’s some of the scene to get you readin’:

Woman in Waiting ~ Tyler Malone

We’re in Monte, a town on a mountain along the Adriatic Sea. The sea-smelling air moves the curtains and desk papers as if by the seaside. I close the balcony and return to the computer on the desk. I need to start somewhere, so I write:

The wind is probably the worst of Monte’s extreme weather. The wind is disorienting and makes anyone who walks in the open a bit foolish.

I read that paragraph to Liberia, and she commented. Today a man was disoriented by a wind gust and fell down a dozen masonry stairs. An ambulance took him away.

Then she added, A lady told me he was returning from the market.

He must have had groceries.

I don’t know. The medics were closing the ambulance doors when I passed.

No groceries?

I didn’t see any. Why?

I was just wondering what happens to groceries in a case like this?

Get the whole scene right here.