ive reduced life to see and keep
watching those outside of me
wandering through the forests of the street
i wandering but knowing my truth
keeping in time with the breath of us
i walk watch look down and teach
myself to bury it all in
like the subway at five
the scents of dust and gasoline
transport me to my early youth and years
when primordial rules of procreation haunted my womb
but there were no takers in the battle
as nights unraveled in perplexity
and days ended in sullen tragedy
no options left amid the fields of nothingness
now a mother to my years i orphaned most of them
walking away from normalcy into the mouth of modern beast who struggles with love for me
Poetry
Awake and Mostly Sober – Rachael Z. Ikins
what the hell?Dream vapor clings, fried egg reality. I blink pie crust from my eyes. Conscious and not high enough, I fumble through the utensil drawer for a joint. Finger joint, knuckle bone, fill the stock pot, migraine on simmer. Add mushrooms. Throw in an orphaned sock, a lost earring. Solo journey to technicolor awareness […]
Awake and Mostly Sober – Rachael Z. Ikins
Awake and Pretty Much Sober – Annette Kalandros
I’m awake and pretty much sober. Yet I do not wish to be sober. I want to swirlmy anger in my mouth, letting its tannins coat my tongue until my tongue doesn’t care what words it forms to hurl at old, pasty white men who place chains and shackles upon our bodiesto drag us backthrough […]
Awake and Pretty Much Sober – Annette Kalandros
drill of sisters
my sisters are grace
they walk among the angels high
alone together plowing through
picking evil out of truth
my sisters are the revolution
Land of Enchantment – River Lucero
History hurts.They told us back in the day:whatever you do,don’t study history.You’ll see livesmisshapen, possiblymurmured in vastderangements ofyour own.You’ll see peoplegnawed by life;dreams sewn shut.(But you’ll also see the strange chemical languageof constellations shattered over the Kewa rez.The ancient stain of night in its diamondsplash and to breathe& sleep here is to breathe& sleep in […]
Land of Enchantment – River Lucero
Writing/Creativity Prompt Challenge: We, the Unhinged
The Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen Literary Collective loves a good writing/creativity prompt challenge. Our goal is to provide prompts on a regular basis. We hope that our ‘Shadow in the Frame’ prompt stirs your muse and that you consider submitting your prompt response to Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen for publication. We welcome poetry, prose, flash fiction, creative […]
Writing/Creativity Prompt Challenge: We, the Unhinged
Good Mourning Ophelia – Trisha Leigh Shufelt
Ophelia weeps what she cannot keep and casts herself into the black night waters.Tis no sleep; her sanity, he reapedfrom the fair and vestal virgin daughter.Sodden, she sinks in dirge-filled ink, bleeding her bitter rue. She resurrects her madness in reed-blown grimness; like a Loon’s song beneath a winter’s moon. Sonorous, it sings, lilting and looming, it bringsa sting upon Hamlet’s ramparts.In death, she speaks.By the sword, she sweepsthe […]
Good Mourning Ophelia – Trisha Leigh Shufelt
pain
clouds linger high
we scale pavement
smiling faces grimace
yielding random thoughts
suplications gambles distraught
splendid sun bright
shadows between walls
dark with secrets
ghosts of yesterdays
progress thwarted suddenly
we but flowers
beating hearts love
hands create endlessly
civilization goes on
children delight wonderfully
men are themselves
women articulate negotiations
i say go
no will hangs
inside my soul
life looks good
my squint permanent
faith bottomless ahead
we look together
rationalizing lovingly quietly
in collective thought
together yet alone
the office – Marisela Brazfield
on a rainy day the stink rises rancid savory industrial primordial sweet modern within the pillars of great society here i am with my outcasts we together in all of it on most days to suffer is a blessing a day at the spa a swim in a lake around here on most nights they […]
the office – Marisela Brazfield
I Don’t Want to be a Sad Ghost – Kristin Kory
My heartache only sings in the middle. I don’t want to be a sad ghost. I don’t want to start like a memory and forget how to leave. I don’t want to be the recurring dream playing for an empty room. I don’t want to be the hunger behind eyelids, so weightless and […]
I Don’t Want to be a Sad Ghost – Kristin Kory
words less spoken 