someone said YOU SHOULD START A CULTand grow it bigger than the cultof the rapist catholic churcha cult of womenwho are awakewho are sick oftaking abusewomen who are willing to stand upand be countedwomen who scare menbecause they don’t smile on cuedon’t put men firstdon’t pamper themor let them take women’s ideasand put their own […]
I curled up in the bones of a corpse.Dead in the woods at twelve. Lost Boy Scoutcamping. It was cold. I was on the hunt forDeath. Little slices of Mr. Grim that I couldeat like scuppernongs from the vine.In the South, we rarely get snow. Thicklike eider down. Frost creeps in, into bonesyour ex the […]
We the unhinged,we with the screws loose,we the weird and wild walkerswending our ways without mending them,walking carefully, choosing our paths, rough and smooth,but mostly rough, so we watch out for hazards,we the watchers, the uncomfortably numbwatchers in a mad worldwe want only to change. Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced […]
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 […]
They’ve come before. Remember history. Remember the millions, the thousands, the hundreds– totaling seventeen million. And yet, always, they come. Different times, different places. Always leaving behind traces of their strange bitter fruit. They are poised, preparing, ready to come. Some of us remember, state the parallels, recite the historical, are laughed at as the […]
Loss X Mental Illness is a collection of poems written by Aariona Harris during one of the most emotionally and mentally challenging times of her life. Harris offers solidarity to other readers who may go through something similar and ensure they know they are not alone. While doing so Harris was able to address her […]
some days were sad gray uneventful most days were brutal confusing painful rarely did we need or want to smile the looks the words the anger the hate the ridicule the shame the blame the abandonment marching on in my head time middle fingered me on my knees crawling on the tarmac of the road to hell paved with no intention Mutter turned her head like a queen in agreement i could not comprehend where do i make sense papai misguided man leading dragging his daughter slaughter wood chipper of life but i’m grown now your dice followed you to where you went my words hushed heaven will never live here anymore Gehenna had bought the country healing compassion empathy sympathy turning of the cheeks fasting sacrificing keeping score patronizing scarification complete spirit annihilation i was never meant to be your Issac
tonight i have given up trees comfort me for now the light waves capture the tones of my tears tonight the pain of my mind is entertained by the old dried chewing gum patties on the ground i imagine a plucky child tossing the wad to the ground before his teacher catches him or perhaps […]