An Assemblage of Artists: Second Wave
Read and weep
Everywhere was noise - But it was quiet in my mind. I was waiting for a goddamned storm. Suspended. Somewhere Between terror and alcoholic bliss. Everything was void - and chaos. Cosmic crags crumbling Under the weight of my crimes And my sadness. A perpetual wheel of misery and happiness Pumping feelings into my body. You were my beginning and my Khattam Shud. I devoured you in my mind and consumed myself With the anxiety of inconsistent love. I was a monster. And sooner or later, Someone was going to find out. We were the nightmare, The cold sweats, The galloping heartbeat But We were also Bliss, Pleasure, And peace.
A wish, A PromiseThe well is shallow. You could stand in it with ankles barely covered in some spots. The coins stack up like the architecture a child creates when they put away their toys in a hurry. Tantalizing the passerby with its unknown worth. You could reach across the invisible, implicit barrier and take at least a little. But you don’t because that is someone else’s dream deposit. A moonshot plan to grasp the grail. Day after day, it slowly builds, moving towards a goal that is not clear. But you know not to question, only contribute to its mounting collective cause, In the hope that you will be granted access to something, someday. A declaration of assurance, backed by the fiat of an inflating currency. It usually happens quickly, with little thought given past the act itself. It wasn’t much but something. More to some than others, the promise. You wait patiently, or impatiently. For the dividend of a bond created before your time. Purchased along the way and already spent. By the time you remember to cash in your righteous request, it is no longer available. I sometimes wonder in what order my wish is on the list. I threw in hopes whenever I had the chance. I imagine some old man hunched over a spreadsheet of names and wishes. Keeping track of who’s up next. They haven’t gotten to my name yet.
O have the sky on speed dial: please more stars, less rain; please more wildfowl in a skein, less death, less disarray. To text one river and get a thousand replies: there, from the mountain, rushing white, there in the throat of the sea, salted like blood, there, sloshing against temple steps, marigolds and prayers circling with the fish, there, around her delicate feet, like a soft cloud fallen, in a hurry to get back home. To talk to time, to slow the dawn, to hasten yesterday, to swirl into a lost moment, to gather minutes from different hours like logs for a pyre: to know the duality of so much silence. My dreams are darkening light, forcing forward the moon. When September comes, they will sit like ancestor crows on the fence, cawing for ritual oblations. What constitutes meaning? What is another word for life? What is the flight path of a dream? To have a solitary bird, fleeing its first winter, beak-first into a fog, still knowing, still knowing, mapping the way.
As I sit here in the darkness, in the corners of my mind, I start to search for the truth unafraid of what I’ll find. I travel to a crossroads and a house right on the edge. A line dividing truth and lies and I step right off the ledge. I step into a new world, yet it’s one that I know well. Inside lies all that man believes God and Earth, Heaven and Hell. It is a land of visions and a place where dreamers play, a land of half-illusion, where magic flows like tokay. It is on the edge of fantasy at the crossroads of the soul where we may all discover what makes a person whole. In there, I’ve fought my battles from here to the outer shores from the days of longships up unto the psychic wars. As I fight my battles, music stems from the hills from the minstrel of the gods and a piper that helps to thrill. Because I win my battles, I come forth for the spoils. Beautiful girls of my design made from grains and oils. But this is all but fantasy in a land of make believe where I am a god in my home creating all that I conceive. I head back on the crossroads and I climb back on the ledge I step inside the house I built lying right there on the edge.
Why, oh why, do we seek to fly? Force holds us down, we fight to defy. Is there any way to fall, but from the sky? Why do we long to be up high? Everyone has faced a time, a day When all we want is to get away. Our hearts and minds inevitably stray Though our bodies are still forced to stay. Icarus was given wax and wings Granting him freedom from his strings. Hubris stripped him of these things. In his memory, survivors sing. What are mere mortals to do With our own desires left to pursue? Stare at the apple that we bit into, Realizing it’s more than we can chew? Too much and little are never clear. Lines wait until crossed before they appear. Out of nowhere, suddenly here, Consequences taking what we hold dear. How close is too close to the Sun? What height can cause the wax to run? Ways to find out, there is only one: That’s when what you shouldn’t do is done. Some things are too close to see. Our desires muddle the certainty. Fly low? Fly high? Stay? Flee? Are we better full, or empty? Indulging in freedom killed Icarus. Finally free, he couldn’t adjust. Perhaps it's time for all to discuss, How we should be easier on us.
Emerging from the ashes she rose covered in fire only the universe knows what has come of her flesh burn, charred she’s naked underneath the charm her hidden shame she disregards there is an attitude in her sway she walks barefoot crimson trailing behind her darkness diminishes confident and prideful she banishes the demons that came to play she is the only light let that be her guide she is triumphant anew, cleansed with each breath she takes a smile appears and she knows the war has been won she stands alone relief in her eyes victory feeds the soul she muses continuing her strut towards a long corridor the other side, a newfound world she’s here to thrive to conquer, to reign the queen has arrived
Nobody told me I was beautiful today But I knew that I was Eyes sparkling with promises of mischief and glee Mouth curved into a slight smile Heart-shaped face filled with love For who I am now And was then Hard fought acceptance Finally won
We are born wet and screaming helpless victims to our environment. As we learn and grow, we become hardy, stronger, and wiser. At our core fragile. One car crash can cut our lives short. One fall can render us paralyzed. One misstep can send us to the bed for weeks. How can it be we consider ourselves the superior species? No armor no claws no razor teeth not even a sharp beak. Fragile of body and spirit. One turn of phrase can shut down our dream. One I hate you can crush our heart. One internal critic can stop us from our destiny. Fragile but stubborn. Fragile but resilient Fragile but hopeful Here’s hoping our egos continue to surpass our intelligence.
I said I do, For better and worse In sickness and health, Until the end of time. Your constant pain burns your soul Like a lone oak being struck By a bolt of lightning In a forest already ablaze. I share in carrying your burden, By your side in your journey as you weaken For we are stronger together Than when we stand apart. Through the suffering I reach toward hopefulness While you only see continued hell. We grow opposed, Unable to cultivate our strength. I watch from your shadow As you sink deeper into darkness. My weakened spirit leaving me frail And unable to pull you to the surface. I rebuild My broken soul And repair all that is left Of who I am. With you forever, I will not leave your side. I will keep my word And my promise to you. With my unending love, I will watch from afar As you partake from your plate of misery, Allowing you to grieve as you dine alone.
the way you could have whispered my name again and again held my hands. so easy it was to claw out the sorrow that stayed in my brain without spilling the toxic left overs here and there that way was easy you could have been with me totally not half — ass way you wanted to hold her hands as well as mine so we both left each other and our distant dreams she left you too giving you the taste of your created pharma renewal, often, doesn’t need to happen regardless of the size of a heart forgiveness is a myth —sometimes rotten roots need to die full-ass way.
Find the fire in this unholy mire
Dissension conspires in these broken lyres
Softly but loudly unwoven shrouds of clouds
Lyrical spiritual condensing miracles
From Darkness spin the wild threads of dead heads
Crush the crystallization in the Summation of weighed Stations
Crosses of mosses embosses chaos clauses of foggy causes
Smash bang clanging clang iron fangs of rustic stangs falsity rang
Waves of waivers Holy Mother Mary saves us
With eyes in skies of untold lies in spies inside these lines of
Iron Bells ringing with Death knells to
Quell slinging slanging Ole Batter Batter Hang ‘em
Deceivers are bleeders consuming and blooming
Flotsam and jettison old blood is reticent
Tissues of issues infused with the confused bruised
Recuse the accused
When thoughts are sharp within your mind. A fragment known, a vivid part, Yet fingers falter, words confined. Where, when, how did it start? If left unformed, they fester deep, A toxic weight, a quiet sting. Even those who silence keep Feel relief when their words take wing. The sound they make, a layered song, Carrying truths, both masked and bare. Feelings buried, hidden long, Released, they float into the air. The fear you’ve hurt, or held aloof, A burden heavy, hard to bear. When fault demands a sharper proof, And guilt demands you learn to care. Is it enough, or will it suffice? The question circles, always near. The pain of knowing, cold as ice, That choices made can veer unclear. Each action held in love’s intent, Yet paths converge in unseen ways. Outcomes shape what moments meant, Through different eyes, in different days.
I am one body made from a trillion cells heart cells and blood cells every organ and bone, every part created from tiny spores ordained to perform a duty as handed to them during conception as handed to them from the beginning of time when there was nothing more than one one initial singularity from which all life formed I am birthed from the stars when they exploded eons ago their stellar dust born from one single cell microscopic and alone in the vast quietness before the sun and the moon before anything imaginable The singularity now many the beginning of time all life calibrated vibrating in unison to the omnipresent hum I am the trees, the creatures, the oceans, the land I am everything that ever was and will be every heritage and every human intricately linked by one cell that existed millennia ago.
Sometimes every day I live feels like a practice for the next day. Just because you know that the life you are meant to live is not this one, but the one yet to come. so let's just bugger this day, because we might as well. This is not a life Just Like this is not a prayer, and I’m not a writer. Then, beautiful world, where are you? We've been waiting for so long For you to arrive any day— Like the weather; Like truth. What would you say if you saw us? No? Then what would you say if you had your left raised? Dear Life, we were waiting, We were waiting But you were always there, just as lost as us.
This is our texture. the copper went this way with the years and the salt and the heat. the story in this patina, how together we've changed what's us, how together we've changed each other. we are this pink copper, the us we hold dear, and the changing green patina is the way we change each other. the texture of passion and longing grows into a long afternoon shadow on the soft pink metal we are, and into the night we grow; soon it will be midnight--if you touch you can feel all of it, the copper and the green, smooth here, and rough there and the beautiful work of art we are.
I once believed growth came through pain, in wounds, in triggers, in endless strain. That love would bring the hurt to light and through the darkness, find what’s right. But opening my heart revealed the truth— I couldn’t heal by repeating the proof. Gentleness is the key, not more strife, to heal the wounds and reclaim life. I was lost in fight or flight, exhausted, blocked, and out of sight. I didn’t know how to truly care, how to love myself, how to be there. I asked for love, yet didn’t give, to myself, the strength to live. A frightened child ran the show, and love felt distant, never whole. So, I faced my pain, stood tall, healed from within, began to call the love I sought, the peace I need, by nurturing myself, I planted the seed.
A new dawn is arising & I’m stuck organizing These thoughts of distorted ideas Behind cloudy, contorted eyelids It’s louder, the storm beside me The suppression of mankind is silenced The villain bestows lethal violence And blows like hurricanes on an island. A noble neurotic disguising Himself as a typical tyrant A mystic, persistently pious Waiting for mankind to open their eyelids. 3-Dimensional, I shift gears directional Transcend light years ahead of you Controlled by fears, perpetual This species is a nutritionless vegetable. Vegan cleanse, I feel incredible Fasted for 3 days fast, the past forgettable Our civilization may not last, dependable On correcting what’s always been correctable. Simply delectable, asking for help slightly skeptical You elected a ventriloquist of myths The patriarchy sparks the flame of anarchists And I’m just riding the wind. Let the revolution begin.
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Another collection of trailblazing poets. Congrats to all those included for putting your words into the world once more.
Kudos to all involved! We hope your inclusion helps to raise the respective tides of your Substacks!