Breathe-in experience, breathe-out poetry.

Muriel Rukeyser

••• The Mad Gallery •••

“Chimera” by Alan Murphy

To see more of Alan’s dynamically thoughtful & pointedly abstract works, as well as our other resident artists, visit our Mad Gallery!

••• The Poetry Forum •••

This last week on Mad Swirl’s Poetry Forum… we lived long in our swamp song; we would write words replete with a longer receipt; we boozed up a grudge by upsetting the judge; we thanked the world for a spirit girl; we faked our charity, whispered in verity; we shielded to take us from parking lot fracas; we were hard to say what’s far too way. We’ll write up rough to far enough (and then we’ll write some more). ~ MH Clay

a far away look by Preacher Allgood

the hard way is still a way
and halfway is still on the way
if you don’t get kicked off the bus
for vulgar language and offensive b.o.

there is a way called the way
but it’s for people who can sit still
and you can buy books on getting your way
but you never get past a chapter or two

and you found out a long time ago
that way too far has a reputation it doesn’t deserve
but that’s far enough has cheerleaders all over the land
and a far away look in your eyes makes people uncomfortable

December 14, 2024

editors note: This far is not way off. – mh clay

Share Shield by Steven Minchin

He’s silent, twitching
as her muffled
indignancies rail muted
around the parking lot.
As she approaches
the building’s backside
her shoulders go
stiff and she only
flails from the elbow.

Clouds take up her slack.

Their exchange may be
love, Jesus, penises
struggle as one pushes in
and the other reaches in
one reaches out
and the other pushes out.

Her swings say whatever
it may be came too close.
They begin to project and
shoot out a shield, like the way
this storm’s water hits
a stagnant car.
From across the street
it looks like there’s a
translucent forcefield
floating around that Honda-
and her.

December 13, 2024

editors note: The force of that field says it’s best to steer clear. – mh clay

PAUSE (47) by Christopher Barnes

She wobbles to veranda.
Pecksniffian
Charade, Abrupt paralysis,
Majestic understrength limbs.
Whisper
To empty seat, half-begun.

December 12, 2024

editors note: Orate, aerate, or end the aside. – mh clay

Oya by Gayle Bell

Spirit girl
you soar as I gaze
eyes shielded
I don’t follow
your path
having need of earthy
flesh and needs
Talks between us
ending with tossed
sheets
Dreams on
clouds’ thighs
Is there room
for this in your world
I wish to be the shoulders
you use as eddies for your flight
As only a true friend would wish for
hearts as rare as you
Before your take off
remember
the promise of a kiss

December 11, 2024

editors note: Every eternal flight deserves a sweet bon voyage. – mh clay

How My Friend Wound Up on Judge Judy by Guest Poet Roy Mason

Oh, course never a problem, until it is
at that point, shit’s on.
I hope the fireworks will one day stop,
they boom on loud and louder, bright and brighter
throughout the night.
It continues until daylight, or the booze is gone.

December 10, 2024

editors note: Maybe ask the judge to issue a restraining order against yourself. – mh clay

SCRIBBLING MAD VERSE ON OLD RECEIPTS by Bradford Middleton

I remember years back scribbling
Mad verse on the back of receipts at my
Job & the other day I did another, my
First in years in that scenario & it felt good!

It felt so postmodern that I should have
Fucking hated it but something,
Somewhere in the act of creativity,
It got me & it got me thinking that if
Only my average customer had spent
More than a fiver at that mad-house
On North Street I could have created
Something like fucking Shakespeare!

December 9, 2024

editors note: Set your sonnets to 15 items or less. – mh clay

THE BEAUTIFUL SWAMP by Sam Silva

When the birds chirp in morning
or the rain dances on afternoon leaves
all through tomorrow I sing
my deep throated song to the sky

…then night grows dim and a lullaby

December 8, 2024

editors note: How sweet to swing in the hum of the sing. – mh clay

••• Short Stories •••

This week’s featured read “Cold As A New Razor Blade“ by Michael Tyler sure is one helluva trip!

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

What are colors of the night if not made of music?

Here’s a hit to get you rollin’:

“Enter” by Tyler Malone

And it is another party and another evening and another reason to delay recall of yesterday. A nude lies on the wooden steps and someone’s someday-mother has strategically placed a t shirt to cover the glory and I cannot help but smile though fearful of what is on offer beyond the doorway.

‘Pet Sounds’ offers welcome embrace while regular faces wander here and there and to and fro and a blonde offers a pill and I place it in a back pocket only to wonder why me and why she as her mini skirt waves the white flag with a sashayed swayed, “Godspeed”. She grabs a boy by a tie worn in a most ironic fashion and leads him through a door and a bed is glimpsed before the door is closed with a squeak.

The hallway is plastered with framed vinyl sleeves and I ease at ‘Sgt Pepper’ and stroke Paul’s mustache and the urge to kiss my childhood friends comes over and I know then that, yes, the acid has kicked in and I smile for the first time in days and rub a swollen eye and remind myself there’ll be no more tonight…

Get the rest of this mind-bending read right here!