Movement Song- Audre Lorde

I have studied the tight curls on the back of your neck
moving away from me
beyond anger or failure
your face in the evening schools of longing
through mornings of wish and ripen
we were always saying goodbye
in the blood in the bone over coffee
before dashing for elevators going
in opposite directions
without goodbyes.
Do not remember me as a bridge nor a roof
as the maker of legends
nor as a trap
door to that world
where black and white clericals
hang on the edge of beauty in five oclock elevators
twitching their shoulders to avoid other flesh
and now
there is someone to speak for them
moving away from me into tomorrows
morning of wish and ripen
your goodbye is a promise of lightning
in the last angels hand
unwelcome and warning
the sands have run out against us
we were rewarded by journeys
away from each other
into desire
into mornings alone
where excuse and endurance mingle
conceiving decision.
Do not remember me
as disaster
nor as the keeper of secrets
I am a fellow rider in the cattle cars
you move slowly out of my bed
saying we cannot waste time
only ourselves.
Audre Lorde, “Movement Song” from From a Land Where Other People Live. Copyright © 1973 by Audre Lorde. 
Source: The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde (W. W. Norton and Company Inc., 1997)

crescent.- Ra’ahe Khayat


The ageless stars fall,
and I fall right along with them.
How could I not?
When even they bow
to your majestic beauty;
that to gaze upon you once
they readily renounce,
of their angelic statures,
and fall..

How come one,
as luminescent as you-
came into my
light-less night?
Drowning me in your
candescent breath of life,
you finally made me see
the hidden beauty of ardor.

Your lunar essence,
awakens my soul,
just for it to drift away into
the astral presence
of your ever watching gaze,
so that when ever I feel lost,
or hopeless, and drown into the darkness,
you shine just a little bit brighter
and illuminate my core.

Your grandiose, even the seraphs envy,
because albeit your scars
and imperfections,
you are still
the most captivating being,
that I have ever cohered with.
For like a crescent moon at night
in midst of a million constellations,
you make me fall,
and I fall,
just like the stars..


Image courtesy of Pinterest

“I’m an autumn leaf, fluttering with loneliness on a naked branch.. where I observe the world, like a specter. It’s all fleeting moments, entwined with cold mornings fading into frosted evenings. Never still, yet never moving.”

I am Ra’ahe Khayat, and let me make you fall into the rabbit hole breathing in my mind at Fallen Alone

Last Stand. . .-Eric Syrdal

Last Stand ES

This battle rages
night after day
each time
She has returned
To this place
beneath Japanese Magnolia
and Crepe Myrtle
a place where
a defensive line can be formed
the Engetsu
the Crescent Moon
a place of respite
against his gentle advance
on her territory
against the quiet
questions of the world
to determine a suitable configuration
for their relationship
in the light of day
where memories can be processed
into safe havens
Images of his eyes
The smell of his clothes
The feel of his fingers in her hair
His voice
Each dropped vowel
Each over pronounced consonant
Pieces of him stored away
In dark alcoves
His fingers on a guitar
Caressing the strings of her morality
How long had she held this crossing
Between her heart and his?
How could she tell him she never
Intends to surrender?
She’ll hold to the last
Stand defiant
Jaw set firm
and illuminated
In the glowing embers of this bridge
If necessary

Eric Syrdal is an independent poet/author. He’s an avid gamer and Sci-Fi enthusiast. He enjoys reading science fiction and fantasy literature and spends a great deal of his writing time focused in those genres. He is from New Orleans, Louisiana, where he lives with wife and two children.  You can read more Eric’s writing at My Sword and Shield….

minotaur – lois e. linkens

minotaur ll

Originally posted by the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective

should i burn for you?
sacrifice myself for you?
leave behind my friends for you,
become something i’m not for you?
eat away my heart for you,
wrap my soul in cloth for you,
be a real woman too,
a real woman, through and through.
should i be a bitch for you?
make up pretty lies for you?
convince my mum i’m fine for you,
just because you want me to,
stay behind the line for you?
at your feet i pay my due.
on grazed knees await my cue,
desires and whims i must subdue,
i owe my everything to you.
in death, in life, i’m chained to you,
polished, prepped and preened for you,
i am the other half of you.
we make a pretty pair, we two,
a minotaur we are, us two,
man and bull, stuck up with glue.
i am the bull that leads us through,
i am the head and frontal view,
all i want is to please you.
all i want is to please you.
all i want is to please you –
and you, in turn, will love me too?
for all of our forever, won’t you?

Lois describes herself as a “confused english student,” though one quickly finds a polished, charming poet in her work. She has an elegant style that compliments her keen insight and whimsical sensibilities. You can read more of her work at her self-titled blog.

Pobre Diabla-david rosado

Pobre Diabla 3

Miss hidden agenda
Compulsive selfishness
The way you fake the talk
Fell for the illusion of love again
The shades of blue I’ve never seen
Won’t step where the grass is green
Intoxicated talk
Can’t figure out what’s real or not

Miss denying addiction
Spending too much time
On what’s already said and done
I can’t bring you back
But there could be a coping way
Oblivious in this dangerous world
These people deceit you
With their some kind of ways

Miss homesick
Please let go of the past
It’s your trauma harness
We’ve all been through some shit
But every once in a while
You should put yourself in other shoes
And be humble
Or you’ll always be oblivious

Miss self-destruction
I won’t ask if you won’t tell
Maybe it doesn’t matter
But your selfish ways
Left me to dry
While you aimlessly walk
Take any opportunity given
To remember to forget to remember to..

Miss enabler
Waking up in the wrong place
way too many fucking times
I can’t blame the poor devil
For losing my grasp
On my needs and wants
Cognitive dissonance
The fork in the road

Miss already dead
Have I been chasing a ghost?
Not a care in the world
Blocking out the urge to dwell
Sometimes it’s a gift
But you will never learn
I know I should stay away
But why do you want to die alone?

Hello, my name is David Rosado and I have been writing poetry very low key for a long time now and a friend encouraged me to put some of it out there. Here is a poem I wrote called “Those eyes shine” which is a very personal and emotional piece for me, Here it is.

White Noise- Sabrina Escorcio

White Noise


I flounder in your existence
as you watch me like television.
I have become white noise
filling empty spaces
between your certainty
and my delusion.

I live here, with you
drifting through days;
An unquenchable wind
floating across desert sand
yearning for home.

Shared conversations
on the telephone,
morsels of truth spill
into crossed copper lines.

Resentment suspends
within the dead air of a
silent gaping mouth jury.

A sentence clear as mud,
keep the peace
lest we be judged.

She grew up with a love for nature, the dramatic arts, music, as well as books and literature. After years of journaling Sabrina came to know poetry, as an adult this became an avenue of self-expression during a time of personal strife.

This hunger for poetry was insatiable, leading her to scour second hand book stores for more inspiration. There she found classic authors such as Percy Shelley, Tennyson, and Sylvia Plath, as well as many obscure poets; She began to transform her journaling into the realm of confessional poetry.

One of her favourite pieces is titled “Dark Pines Under Water” written by the Canadian poet Gwendolyn Mac Ewen. Sabrina hopes to feature her poetry in print one day, she can be found on Tumblr at MyCrumpledNotebook, as well as Instagram as una_zingara.