The Best of Mad Swirl : 11.08.14
"Men must live and create. Live to the point of tears." Albert Camus
••• The Mad Gallery •••
Photo (above) by featured artist Toby Oggenfuss. To see more Mad works from Toby, and our other contributing artists, please visit our Mad Gallery.
••• The Poetry Forum •••
This last week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum... we marveled at the mundanity of days; we unlocked a madhouse, opened the door, emptied our deeds of the week before; we mouthed the sum of none for one; we seized the day, slippery with scales; we prayed our soul the dark to take, pondered the peace in a jump in the lake; we went with it, circled to heaven, 365 times 24-7; we came to rest, ceased the dance, hung our hopes on the forgiveness of chance. Rest and rise up to wield another week. ~ MH Clay
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste...
The Last Ballet
I fence the morning,
not with indifference.
With everything. I pin
my hopes on anything
I find worthy.
I see signs in all I do.
The slant of the blinds,
for example, the way
the sun breathes through
them,
to me, that is a sign.
I listen to the radio
and hear a song I don’t know
or care to know, but some lyric
will up-end me.
I see a person, carrying
a backpack, walking along
a downtrodden road in east Mesa
and I think of my son who often
walks along downtrodden streets.
My heart throbs and shivers
and beats to the hymn of many hearts.
For the sake of bliss
I pretend that sadness doesn’t affect me.
One day I’ll abandon my tears
and my children will forgive me.
- Lisa Zaran
(added 11.08.14)
editor’s note: Spend a life-time dancing 'round those issues and forgiveness comes late to the repertoire. - mh
24-7-365
Morn
Rises
Sun
Hides
And I hide
With
It
Day
Unravels
Pleasant
Travels
And I travel
With
It
Eve
Eases
Pleases
And I am pleased
With
It
Nights
Blurred
Time
Dies
And I die
With
It
Worlds
Revolve
Rotates
Recreates
And I create
With
It
- Johnny Olson
(1 poem added 11.07.14)
editor’s note: Johnny O writes to our delight, and we write with him. (Happy Birthday to our Founder and Chief Editor! He's a double-digitarian today - you guess the digits. ;) ) - mh
You Will Wade Out
Two parts good, one part
maybe tired,
maybe sad
(I haven’t decided yet),
looking at my
lake
(mine tonight,
I put it on reserve because
I felt I deserved it).
Quietness
other than
big waves and
teenagers on their
first date
(blackberry stain hickies
to bring home to momma).
My eyes are closed
because I’m having a
moment
and I don’t want to
see any other
moments
because then I’ll
start to compare.
I hope no one steals my
apartment keys
as I take off my sweatshop
tennis shoes and
take
four
breaths in:
one for the
limitless lonely space
on this bench and
in this world
one for the
sailboats like
sheep
along the crease where the
lake is kissing the sky
one for the
prayers I’ve been
skipping out on
(except when I’m on
airplanes or in
fast cars)
and one for
myself.
- Taylor Gall
(1 poem added 11.06.14)
editor’s note: Knees to hips, chest to chin; wade in far, but still breathe in. - mh
Carp Day
stream flowing
over stones,
frothing white,
river spirit
impregnating water
with oxygen.
carp and catfish
huddle at the dam
attracting foxes, raccoons,
all giving thanks to life
for enriching them
with the wonder
of movement;
chemical combustion
of sugars,
energy abundant
for the swim downstream,
the chase and kill
caught in teeth.
all feel the pressure
of the jaws closing
eventually,
but sing and swim
and run and dance
they must
for as long as they can
in the spring sun
before their turn
must come.
- Joseph Farley
(2 poems added 11.05.14)
editor’s note: Seize or be seized! It's gonna be somebody's day; make it yours. (Read another fish story from Joe on his page - check it out!) - mh
zero
bed of the truck filled w/
blood and bone
filled w/ corpses and the
children laugh because
this is not war
this is not anything new
hatred gets confused w/
hunger,
lust w/ need
man fucks some stranger’s wife
in a cheap motel room in a
small frightened town then goes
back to his life
sky is blue
shot through w/ fading contrails
sun is everywhere
but w/out heat
burn the churches first and
then the prisons
and then the bars and
what’s left?
burn down the
houses of politicians
sleep on the couch
36 and divorced and trying
to find something
more important than money
good luck w/ that
- John Sweet
(added 11.04.14)
editor’s note: Found in the personal effects of Willy Loman after he died. - mh
A Week before.
The world has so far held its
Captive secret from me.
I am only but half slave half
Driver to the place where we
Will meet. And it will be there,
In dim light,
Enriched by dark wood motif,
When your eyes bounce and flit
And from that, follow and return
to mine, you will know that
I was once good and decent.
I’ll swear it, but found my health
In the children of false love.
From what I gave them I felt
A bit less than half empty.
Still look, look, look around.
Take in this madhouse.
A store of treasure, heaped together
Fatuous and hand-holding,
Slipping coin onto coin unto another.
I look, still, through their window,
Keeping half apart, do not worry.
- Joseph Elenbaas
(1 poem added 11.03.14)
editor’s note: A couple of coins palmed and passed to keep time and slackers at bay. - mh
Marvelous Days
Mundane, yet marvelous
These days, these hours
These distasteful diversions
They, too, have taste to
Broaden the palate
Bring each day to light
To linger on the tongue
Learning is limned
In my luminous limitations
These shackles adorn me
Then, cold splash, face slap
They warn me -
Alive be, awake!
"Should the night
My soul to take"
Quotidian quiescence
Stupefies
Effort's required
To open sleepy eyes
The day is bright
The hours ahead, right
And rightly met
These are marvelous days
- MH Clay
(1 poem added 11.02.14)
editor’s note: 'tis marvelous days indeed when our Poetry Editor puts on his porkpie hat & prances thru our poetry forum speakin' upon the pompitous of keepin’ that eternal party goin’! - jo
••• Short Stories •••
Need a read? Check out the latest addition to our short stories library, "La La Love Ya" by returning short-short writer, Alyssa Black. Here's what Short Story Editor Tyler Malone had to say about this pick-of-the-week story: "Why is this world full of murderers and insane people? Well, it's really not, we just think it is. When you start loving the darkness, think about that one tiny speck of light in your life, then follow it."
Here's a few na na notes to get the beat in your head and heart:
So, today I drove to work in a car with no heat on a day that was so cold people even started caring about the homeless. When I got to work, my boss was waiting for me, ready to nag for twenty-five minutes about something somebody else did but averted reasonable suspicions to me because they knew I would just take it. They were right. I went to the bathroom and cried for ten minutes and finished my shift. The world felt cruel and inconsiderate, and I questioned whether I even wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to curl up in a ball and tell everyone to leave me alone.
After work, I checked my phone. Matt had texted me.
He said, “hey watcha doin? text when you get off.” I did.
I said, “hey dude. day from hell but id love to see you.” He called and asked me why my day was hellish. I got vague and emotional, the way I always do.
I said, “People don’t respect me the way I respect them. I feel constantly taken advantage of. Everyone at work, everyone at school, they would stomp on my spine wearing cleats if it benefitted them in even the smallest way. I’m so done humoring anyone. I,” I stopped. When I start saying “I” too much, I start to worry that I’m being too self-centered. I catch myself and continue. “It just sucks; everything sucks sometimes,” I finished, trying to take the issue less personally and more rationally.
The best cure to get this tune outta your head is to follow the notes right here!
••• Open Mic •••
t'was 10 years ago that Mad Swirl first hosted our open mic at Dallas' Absinthe Lounge. Way back then we never would have guessed that we'd still be doin' it to it all these years later. But guess what? We are! Why? Because of you... and you... and ALL you you's out there who have been appreciatin' and participatin' along with us all those years!
We here at the Swirl approached this auspicious occasion with keen consideration. We asked ourselves, "Selves, who would be the best performer to feature at our 10 year Swirl-a-bration?" The answer came back clearly, "Mad Swirl!" Yes, of course, Mad Swirl should be AND will be our feature! And who better to help us celebrate this momentous mad milestone but YOU, our fellow mad ones!
Thanks to ALL the wonderful poets and musicians who helped us Swirl-a-brate by sharing their words, their verses and their fine light with us. t'was a fine night to be alive and in our Mad Swirl world. In case you missed this Mad action, view the whole show here, via USTREAM!
We look forward to ALL the m-adventures to come! Stay tuned...
•••••••
The whole Mad Swirl of everything to come keeps on keepin' on... now... now... NOW! Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year, every decade, every every EVERY there is! Wanna join in the mad conversations going on in Mad Swirl's World? Then stop by whenever the mood strikes! We'll be here...
Tearin’ Up,
Johnny O
Chief Editor
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
Tyler Malone
Short Story Editor
Madelyn Olson
Visual Editor
••• The Mad Gallery •••
Photo (above) by featured artist Toby Oggenfuss. To see more Mad works from Toby, and our other contributing artists, please visit our Mad Gallery.
••• The Poetry Forum •••
This last week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum... we marveled at the mundanity of days; we unlocked a madhouse, opened the door, emptied our deeds of the week before; we mouthed the sum of none for one; we seized the day, slippery with scales; we prayed our soul the dark to take, pondered the peace in a jump in the lake; we went with it, circled to heaven, 365 times 24-7; we came to rest, ceased the dance, hung our hopes on the forgiveness of chance. Rest and rise up to wield another week. ~ MH Clay
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste...
The Last Ballet
I fence the morning,
not with indifference.
With everything. I pin
my hopes on anything
I find worthy.
I see signs in all I do.
The slant of the blinds,
for example, the way
the sun breathes through
them,
to me, that is a sign.
I listen to the radio
and hear a song I don’t know
or care to know, but some lyric
will up-end me.
I see a person, carrying
a backpack, walking along
a downtrodden road in east Mesa
and I think of my son who often
walks along downtrodden streets.
My heart throbs and shivers
and beats to the hymn of many hearts.
For the sake of bliss
I pretend that sadness doesn’t affect me.
One day I’ll abandon my tears
and my children will forgive me.
- Lisa Zaran
(added 11.08.14)
editor’s note: Spend a life-time dancing 'round those issues and forgiveness comes late to the repertoire. - mh
24-7-365
Morn
Rises
Sun
Hides
And I hide
With
It
Day
Unravels
Pleasant
Travels
And I travel
With
It
Eve
Eases
Pleases
And I am pleased
With
It
Nights
Blurred
Time
Dies
And I die
With
It
Worlds
Revolve
Rotates
Recreates
And I create
With
It
- Johnny Olson
(1 poem added 11.07.14)
editor’s note: Johnny O writes to our delight, and we write with him. (Happy Birthday to our Founder and Chief Editor! He's a double-digitarian today - you guess the digits. ;) ) - mh
You Will Wade Out
Two parts good, one part
maybe tired,
maybe sad
(I haven’t decided yet),
looking at my
lake
(mine tonight,
I put it on reserve because
I felt I deserved it).
Quietness
other than
big waves and
teenagers on their
first date
(blackberry stain hickies
to bring home to momma).
My eyes are closed
because I’m having a
moment
and I don’t want to
see any other
moments
because then I’ll
start to compare.
I hope no one steals my
apartment keys
as I take off my sweatshop
tennis shoes and
take
four
breaths in:
one for the
limitless lonely space
on this bench and
in this world
one for the
sailboats like
sheep
along the crease where the
lake is kissing the sky
one for the
prayers I’ve been
skipping out on
(except when I’m on
airplanes or in
fast cars)
and one for
myself.
- Taylor Gall
(1 poem added 11.06.14)
editor’s note: Knees to hips, chest to chin; wade in far, but still breathe in. - mh
Carp Day
stream flowing
over stones,
frothing white,
river spirit
impregnating water
with oxygen.
carp and catfish
huddle at the dam
attracting foxes, raccoons,
all giving thanks to life
for enriching them
with the wonder
of movement;
chemical combustion
of sugars,
energy abundant
for the swim downstream,
the chase and kill
caught in teeth.
all feel the pressure
of the jaws closing
eventually,
but sing and swim
and run and dance
they must
for as long as they can
in the spring sun
before their turn
must come.
- Joseph Farley
(2 poems added 11.05.14)
editor’s note: Seize or be seized! It's gonna be somebody's day; make it yours. (Read another fish story from Joe on his page - check it out!) - mh
zero
bed of the truck filled w/
blood and bone
filled w/ corpses and the
children laugh because
this is not war
this is not anything new
hatred gets confused w/
hunger,
lust w/ need
man fucks some stranger’s wife
in a cheap motel room in a
small frightened town then goes
back to his life
sky is blue
shot through w/ fading contrails
sun is everywhere
but w/out heat
burn the churches first and
then the prisons
and then the bars and
what’s left?
burn down the
houses of politicians
sleep on the couch
36 and divorced and trying
to find something
more important than money
good luck w/ that
- John Sweet
(added 11.04.14)
editor’s note: Found in the personal effects of Willy Loman after he died. - mh
A Week before.
The world has so far held its
Captive secret from me.
I am only but half slave half
Driver to the place where we
Will meet. And it will be there,
In dim light,
Enriched by dark wood motif,
When your eyes bounce and flit
And from that, follow and return
to mine, you will know that
I was once good and decent.
I’ll swear it, but found my health
In the children of false love.
From what I gave them I felt
A bit less than half empty.
Still look, look, look around.
Take in this madhouse.
A store of treasure, heaped together
Fatuous and hand-holding,
Slipping coin onto coin unto another.
I look, still, through their window,
Keeping half apart, do not worry.
- Joseph Elenbaas
(1 poem added 11.03.14)
editor’s note: A couple of coins palmed and passed to keep time and slackers at bay. - mh
Marvelous Days
Mundane, yet marvelous
These days, these hours
These distasteful diversions
They, too, have taste to
Broaden the palate
Bring each day to light
To linger on the tongue
Learning is limned
In my luminous limitations
These shackles adorn me
Then, cold splash, face slap
They warn me -
Alive be, awake!
"Should the night
My soul to take"
Quotidian quiescence
Stupefies
Effort's required
To open sleepy eyes
The day is bright
The hours ahead, right
And rightly met
These are marvelous days
- MH Clay
(1 poem added 11.02.14)
editor’s note: 'tis marvelous days indeed when our Poetry Editor puts on his porkpie hat & prances thru our poetry forum speakin' upon the pompitous of keepin’ that eternal party goin’! - jo
••• Short Stories •••
Need a read? Check out the latest addition to our short stories library, "La La Love Ya" by returning short-short writer, Alyssa Black. Here's what Short Story Editor Tyler Malone had to say about this pick-of-the-week story: "Why is this world full of murderers and insane people? Well, it's really not, we just think it is. When you start loving the darkness, think about that one tiny speck of light in your life, then follow it."
Here's a few na na notes to get the beat in your head and heart:
So, today I drove to work in a car with no heat on a day that was so cold people even started caring about the homeless. When I got to work, my boss was waiting for me, ready to nag for twenty-five minutes about something somebody else did but averted reasonable suspicions to me because they knew I would just take it. They were right. I went to the bathroom and cried for ten minutes and finished my shift. The world felt cruel and inconsiderate, and I questioned whether I even wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to curl up in a ball and tell everyone to leave me alone.
After work, I checked my phone. Matt had texted me.
He said, “hey watcha doin? text when you get off.” I did.
I said, “hey dude. day from hell but id love to see you.” He called and asked me why my day was hellish. I got vague and emotional, the way I always do.
I said, “People don’t respect me the way I respect them. I feel constantly taken advantage of. Everyone at work, everyone at school, they would stomp on my spine wearing cleats if it benefitted them in even the smallest way. I’m so done humoring anyone. I,” I stopped. When I start saying “I” too much, I start to worry that I’m being too self-centered. I catch myself and continue. “It just sucks; everything sucks sometimes,” I finished, trying to take the issue less personally and more rationally.
The best cure to get this tune outta your head is to follow the notes right here!
••• Open Mic •••
t'was 10 years ago that Mad Swirl first hosted our open mic at Dallas' Absinthe Lounge. Way back then we never would have guessed that we'd still be doin' it to it all these years later. But guess what? We are! Why? Because of you... and you... and ALL you you's out there who have been appreciatin' and participatin' along with us all those years!
We here at the Swirl approached this auspicious occasion with keen consideration. We asked ourselves, "Selves, who would be the best performer to feature at our 10 year Swirl-a-bration?" The answer came back clearly, "Mad Swirl!" Yes, of course, Mad Swirl should be AND will be our feature! And who better to help us celebrate this momentous mad milestone but YOU, our fellow mad ones!
Thanks to ALL the wonderful poets and musicians who helped us Swirl-a-brate by sharing their words, their verses and their fine light with us. t'was a fine night to be alive and in our Mad Swirl world. In case you missed this Mad action, view the whole show here, via USTREAM!
We look forward to ALL the m-adventures to come! Stay tuned...
•••••••
The whole Mad Swirl of everything to come keeps on keepin' on... now... now... NOW! Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year, every decade, every every EVERY there is! Wanna join in the mad conversations going on in Mad Swirl's World? Then stop by whenever the mood strikes! We'll be here...
Tearin’ Up,
Johnny O
Chief Editor
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
Tyler Malone
Short Story Editor
Madelyn Olson
Visual Editor
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