Author Archives: Jeanne

The Devil Will Set Me Free —Charley Priest

This man I didn´t wan´t to become Devil talked to me Hence I let myself bite that so called-e (I´m just a piece of good hearted… think so) Bo! Don´t be to surprised when the bo can make you a little mess in your body. Sorry. Out. Read you all lator you innovator, have aContinue reading “The Devil Will Set Me Free —Charley Priest”

Poem that Refuses to Shoot Itself in the Head —MP Powers

Here I am. Beergut, oyster sauce on my t-shirt, pantlegs twisted into corkscrews. I am the poem no one wants. I have been rejected from 17 blogzines, 5 of them fledgling, and not once with anything but a lousy-arse form letter. All I have been treated with is apathy, all those smug & coddled editorContinue reading “Poem that Refuses to Shoot Itself in the Head —MP Powers”

Hair Tied Up in Madness —Marysa Writes

My hair is a prelude to my mental illness, an introduction to the dissatisfaction with stability within me; The first time I ever dyed my hair, I was sixteen, a peak in the development, rather lack thereof; my brain once a high-functioning factory, now a run-down fun house, cracked mirrors replacing every assembly line thatContinue reading “Hair Tied Up in Madness —Marysa Writes”

The Weather Inside My Mind —Intellectual Shaman

the weather inside my mind changes like fair Easterlies until islands of bad energy consume my soul and soul-sucking tasks get done effortlessly my creativity loves chaos and so, cleaning closes my mind forcing a new direction with artificial power unwilling to allow a mess. I’m making the waves as my universe shuts down untilContinue reading “The Weather Inside My Mind —Intellectual Shaman”

Where the White Wolves Dance —Scott Andrew Bailey

By Scott Bailey © 2014 A ring of solid light Hovers just above the ground Spinning with infinity Casts glamour all around This is Where the white wolves dance It is said the be the child Of the seed of forbidden fruit Born from secret knowledge Found on a hidden a hidden route Around itContinue reading “Where the White Wolves Dance —Scott Andrew Bailey”

Branches —Emotional Notions

We sit and talk  as you begin to explain,  all of your brokenness from whence it began. I silently listen and don’t interrupt. I feel of it’s essence your beauty of now. For it all has formed you the way you should be, for no one escapes  the brokenness tree. ©EN, All Rights Reserved emotionalnotions.wordpress.com

Silhouette — Shubhangi Rawat

To my confidant, Ever since I’m in abyss with my thoughts, I’ve conceded this fact that I’m anonymous to many and familiar to none. I’ve been on hiatus for a while. Sometimes, I’m not able to retrieve the exact impression of you but I’m quite tenacious to your distant apparition, and these memories that I’mContinue reading “Silhouette — Shubhangi Rawat”