Inspiration is hard to come by. You have to take it where you find it.

Bob Dylan

••• The Mad Gallery •••

“illustration 7” by featured artist Eric Suhem

Check-out Eric’s living & breathing kaleidoscopic canvas madness, as well as our other resident artists, visit our Mad Gallery!

••• The Poetry Forum •••

This last week on Mad Swirl’s Poetry Forum… we tried to stand firm against an earworm; we struck a blow for yes ‘gainst no; we got to see what a poem should be; we licked a spine to weigh its shine; we walked home on a sharp stone; we ached soul with a small hole; we walked in the world of a kung fu squirrel. We are like Nature when Nature’s like us.  ~ MH Clay

Lakeside Bird Feeder, Squirrels by D. R. James

Now if I had ambition I’d be
this kung fu squirrel, this lighter one,
this Jackie Chan, scaling stucco

to ledge to chimney to the hovering skid
of the evil whiz kid’s waffling chopper,
perpetual motion my only gear,

my sidekick wacky as this blacker one,
who tries but can’t quite nab his half
of the substantial stash. Their

choreography is manic, their fight scenes
replete with wall-walking, roof leaping,
jumps across gaps and gorges—all

their own improv’d stunts, every feat
a fleeting, one-take opportunity. It’s
those reflexes that make the difference:

when gravity catches their rare missteps
they can spin around an inch-thick span
of diagonal steel or the slippery rim

of a seed-spill dish, always squirming
all four feet first — whereas I’d just drop,
back-ass-down to the unforgiving earth,

my spindly claws and my mangy tail
spread like a shredded chute, a plea
for anyone at all to catch me. So,

I’ll leave these antics to my friends,
for today, the squirrels, until I can find
a way to foil them, deter them from

this wintertime welfare I’ve intended
for the birds, whose more manageable
business will give me the docile pleasure

I’ve been seeking: sitting here in a chair,
swathed in luscious listlessness, slinging
these escape lines toward anywhere I wish.

May 24, 2025

editors note: Their struggle is real. – mh clay

somewhere, a nest is lined with what i lost by Guest Poet Sreeja

there’s a small hole the size of a nickel
in my heart. perhaps, smaller. perhaps, the size
of the space where a button used to be.
it isn’t much; just enough for a life to fit in
and breathe barely. instead, light slips in
sideways and stays huddled.

yesterday, a bird pulled a thread from the porch chair.
and took it somewhere I couldn’t follow.
i tell myself it will become a warm nest, as small
as a moth’s quiet hunger, but who can say?

my neighbour’s cat sits on the windowsill, facing
our house, and tilts its head at me.
the pink of the sky falls on the white walls,
trees lean in toward each other to hush,
passersby rush to chowringhee road, the many
gaps in the crowd filled with exhaled apologies
and decayed sighs. they’re the size of a thumbprint
on a window, as small as a quiet leaving.
i press my own hand against the glass
but the fit is never quite right.

my mother once taught me how to breathe through ache.
the ache of things that were. the ache of silence.
the ache of a half-healed ache. everything.
in through the nose, out through the mouth.
i try it again today, as i touch the thumbprint
the size of an ache left on the glass. i breathe out
whatever i can bear to lose.

still, the ache stays.
still, i know the hole stays open,
small as a wish, wide enough for the weather.

May 23, 2025

editors note: Ache maintenance. – mh clay

the last few by Patrick Sweeney

the last few miles or so, a sharp stone in my boot

May 22, 2025

editors note: When you gotta push through – mh clay

Licking Down Your Spine by Guest Poet Bill Wolak

Lighter than kite string falling back to the ground.
Lighter than freckles haunted by fireflies.

Lighter than weaving whispers into a sigh.
Lighter than secrets lingering in perfume.

Lighter than seeds planted in the wind.
Lighter than a doll’s missing eye.

Lighter than the fly floating in a barrel of rainwater.
Lighter than all the lost moonlight in your hair.

May 21, 2025

editors note: Lovely! – mh clay

He Said a Poem Should Be… by Jason Ryberg

part journal entry
and classifieds’ ad, Sunday
—–obituary,
—–hostage letter and tattered
—–travel log of a lonesome
—–highway man in hobo code.

May 20, 2025

editors note: All to carry us away. (We welcome Jason to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

(SIYNO)(OUIETNON)(JAUNDNEIN)YESANDNO by Guest Poet Moe Shapiro

no

i said when
questioned

about my past relations with insanity
about my close negations of their godhead

no

i said when
people

held out daguerrotypes
of tantric auras (undead)

no

i said when
stupid

carnivals all came to town and
pitched their tents on my divinity

yes

i said
to our

invulnerable
vulnerability

yes

May 19, 2025

editors note: Shields up! – mh clay

EARWORM NIGHTMARE by Bradford Middleton

I’m tired
So very very tired
After a night
Lost to an earworm
That refuses to budge.
A bubblegum classic
From before I was
Even born that
Crawled right on in
& now refuses to shift
As the chorus nags in
The back of my
Mind, torturing me with
Its damn catchiness,
Infecting me in just 2
And 1/2 minutes and
Trust me on this it can
Last…. oh boy can
It last and eventually
You’ll be pleading for
Divine intervention to
Save you from its
Damn catchiness.

May 18, 2025

editors note: Don’t let yours start up, not even a note, or you’re caught. – mh clay

••• Short Stories •••

Grab your bags and pick a seat for this read of the week, “Midnight on the Greyhound“ by Guest Writer Angela Kubinec!

Here’s what Short Story Editor Tyler Malone has to say about our featured read:

What god could see all of us, all the time and turn away? A sane one. A quiet ride.

Here’s a few things that were seen on this trip:

“Bussed” by Tyler Malone

It is midnight and You check on us.

1. There is a large woman in a floral print dress that crowds a college student’s seat with oblivion. She is holding a smelly bucket of KFC in her lap. Under the bucket is a handful of The Watchtower. You see that the student has taken a copy and pretends to read it. She no longer tries to convert him. He resents the fact that he looked at the pictures in her magazine and she has not offered him any food.

2. You notice a couple with greasy hair as they board. They are resting their feet on their spotty backpacks. They are overpacked and one backpack is frayed. The smaller man is allowing the larger man to doze on his shoulder. The larger man is drooling a little bit with his mouth closed. You know how that is done, but it is out of the ordinary on a bus. People usually travel with slack mouths.

3. A couple of kids argue for a minute about Go Fish. One of them has cheated, somehow. They are maybe aged eight or nine. It is impossible to tell if they have a parent or guardian, as no one is telling them to pipe down. You seldom pay much attention to children, as they mostly have someone doing it for You. You wonder if Greyhound allows children to travel unaccompanied. You think that airlines do it, but You don’t remember…

Get the whole scene seen on this bus-ling read right here!

••• Open Mic •••

Join Mad Swirl this 1st Wednesday of June (aka 06.04.25) when we’ll be doin’ the open mic voodoo that we do at Barbara’s Pavillion!

We will get things started with some musical grooves brought to you by Swirve (Chris & Tamitha Curiel, Gerard Bendiks) then hosts Johnny O & MH Clay will set the stage for some open mic madness!

This month we are featuring longtime friend of the Swirl, open mic host & Contributing Poet on our Poetry Forum and Open Mic maestro, Opalina Salas! Here’s a bit about Opalina:

Opalina Salas is a poet, a former bookstore owner, and creator and host of the Poets on X+ reading series, held in her beloved home of Oak Cliff, TX. Her first collection of poetry, Black Sparrow Dress, reflects a lifetime of engagement and evolution as a poet and a person.

She got her start as a spoken word performer at the legendary Club Clearview Dallas Poetry Slam. She has performed at the first annual New Orleans Poetry Fest of 2016 and was featured at the Texas Beat Poetry Festival 2012, Forest Fest in Lamesa, TX in 2011. In and around Dallas, TX, she has performed for OPP: Other People’s Poetry, has featured at Pandora’s Box, at Arte y Pan Dulce, a PoC Art Show, is a member of Tejana Cosmica and is a regular as Mad Swirl’s Open Mic on first Wednesdays.

She has been writing and performing in and around the DFW area for 30 years with her comrade, partner and fellow poet, Carlos Salas, and lives with her 2 cats, Agent Dale Cooper, and Jack.

Come to participate…

(preRSVP at our Facebook event page or send a message to openmic@madswirl.com)

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

Here’s a sneak-peek at our the remaining 2025 features:

••• Fundraiser •••

Thanks to ALL who have already donated to our fundraiser! We’re 37% closer to our goal! For those who still might wanna lend a hand, it’s not too late. EVERY dollar donated will go towards growing our collective creative outlet… and you can say you helped!

•••••••

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 world? Then come by whenever the mood strikes! We’ll be here…

Findin’ & Takin’ It,

Johnny O
Chief Editor

MH Clay
Poetry Editor

Tyler Malone
Short Story Editor

Madelyn Olson
Visual Editor