A Night’s Tale

wonder how many times i exhale a breath,
like a sword–slicing up the breeze
then. mete out to the surface faintly
utmost quietly.

 

dear, the lantern dazing a twinkling light
its gloom can’t be read; in darkness embedded
an ancient of silence so fond of recording sounds
from a century panting-hymning the sky’s psalms
smoothing stillness, hushing up meaning
creating a distance between you–me, till our eyes
unable to touch sight, even no more
unable to grasp lght.

 

“from the slices of breeze i have executed,
only sign language is being picked not
been assessed by thee of its howling…”

 

(and like yesterday, dear;
the breeze and night are still singing majnun’s qasidah
through the breath of nafs: heart.)
–Noor Aisya Buang

Aisya has been writing poems since 2011. Her poems and short stories have been published in Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia newspapers. Her first poetry book Kastil Aisya (Aisya’s Castle)  has won book prize in Malay Literary Award, Singapore 2015 and shortlisted for Singapore Literature Prize 2016. Her second Malay poetry book Cahaya Dalam Sunyi (Light in Loneliness) has been published recently. She is now in preparation to translate her poems in English and publishing her first Malay short stories. She can be reached through email kastialaisya@gmail.com

Lethal Love Letters 5

Dear Heroin,
How could you do this?
I can’t even breathe
It’s like I am dying
I can’t think
I can’t see
Save me from dying
I scream right out loud
I see all the faces
But you stand out in the crowd
I muster the strength to try to get up and just leave
But it’s like without you
I can’t even breathe!
So I fall down to my feet
And I beg for some mercy
But, it’s like I am stuck
Or like somebody has cursed me
Who now can save me
From this cycle of destruction?
From this world that I now live in
And, I just keep getting stuck in
Goodbye Heroin, please don’t reply.
Goodbye Heroin, I don’t want to die.
Nicole D’Settēmi

Nicole is the author of Addictarium: A Heroin Abuse & Recovery Memoir. She is currently living in upstate New York, and is also the author of multiple pieces of lyric poetry, and other writing endeavors. In her spare time she runs a creative design firm, assisting others in need of artistic direction digitally. She loves painting, sketching, and reading when she isn’t busy working on her novels.

Lethal Love Letters 4

Dear Nicole,
Welcome my child!
You are now my possession!
The demon’s within you-
I will be your obsession
Exorcism is not
Even an OPTION
You’re stuck with me now
And, I just can’t be forgotten
I seep through your veins
I claw at your skin
You can fight the battle
But, you will NEVER win!
When you think that it’s over
And, you think that you’ve won
You will find out my dear
That the battle’s just begun
A fight to the death
As I take over your soul
With me in your system
I am all that you’ll know
I’ll rape you of everything
That you thought you knew
I’ll brainwash your mind
And, you won’t have a clue
You’ll be left in a corner
Of darkness and grief
I’ll be your religion
Your one and only true belief
Here I am child
And, now you are my whore,
As I patiently sit
Waiting at your door.
Once again it’s Heroin, forevermore.
Nicole D’Settēmi

Nicole is the author of Addictarium: A Heroin Abuse & Recovery Memoir. She is currently living in upstate New York, and is also the author of multiple pieces of lyric poetry, and other writing endeavors. In her spare time she runs a creative design firm, assisting others in need of artistic direction digitally. She loves painting, sketching, and reading when she isn’t busy working on her novels.

Dining with the Dead

This is where i have come to dine.
Postmortem hanging on the menu.
A plenipotentiary of the services of worms.
Hot chitter chatter
Of stern looking trolls, pervade the enclave.
They belched after a meal of death.
Yawned and belched again, a fever in Yiddish.
Gazed at me, a clandestine intruder.
No chatter of humans, but muted conversations
Of mouth less ghosts.
Gastric acid running at the guts.
Then I knew it was the wrong company.

–Eddie Awusi

Eddie is a Nigerian writer of Isoko extraction. He graduated from the prestigious Delta state university, Abraka, in 2007, where, he got a Bachelor of Arts degree in English and Literature. He has been published in Dissident Voice, The Australian Times, Tuck Magazine and other numerous magazines and anthologies. The pen and paper are his playmates.

Now and Then

She disappeared for a week.

Waiting for the bruises to fade.

The she disappeared inside herself.  

***

A dark satin ribbon

against her milky white skin.

Up against the crease where

thigh melts into her pelvis,

where no one will see.  

===

WEEKDAYS

Wake up

Breathe

Repeat 
 +   

WORK

hours on the internet

looking up the price of flights

Places she knows she’ll never go.  

Places with names that melt

like spun sugar
 +         

WEEKENDS

sleep that eludes weekdays

falls like a deluge

Sleeping. Ceiling. Netflix. Ceiling. Sleeping. 

@@@

HIM

Pretending it’s normal.

That she is normal.

That nothing has changed.          

_____

THEN

smoky darkness

waterfalls of liquor

a trickle

then a torrent  

a guy, not her guy, watches her

the guy isn’t handsome,

isn’t charming,

isn’t smart;

but what he is,

he thinks…

is here.

blurry face she shouldn’t have kissed

wanting to go home

hands around her throat

streams of silent tears

coursing over her temples

into her hair.

####

HOW

it begins:

A birthday.

Moth emerging

out of a cocoon

of lethargy and apathy.

Lather, rinse, repeat.  

She picks up the razor.  
Back of her knee –

a shifting mountainside

contours and indentations.

The razor slips.

She hisses.

Blood trickles

There it hangs

a Rorschach test

wherein she sees herself.

She smiles.

For the first time in months

^^^^^

NOW

the razor

or pin

or her nails

into her palms

 

This is real,

she thinks.

I made this happened.

 

It’s okay,

she thinks.

I only do it now and then.

–Kylie Goetz

When Kylie was five, she wanted to be either a nun or a lounge singer. Luckily (for the church and lounge patrons everywhere) she discovered a love for storytelling around the same age.  This eventually translated into a B.A in theatre from Florida State University and a MA in creative writing from Macquarie University.  You can buy her book here and follow her Word of the Day Poetry Project

It Happened to Me

The hair was a forest and the face beyond the cottage deep in it.

The hands were cracked and worn, the fingernails perfect.

The eyes darting back and forth, nailing each thing to the ground.

The feet were curved.  Pointed at the end.

The toenails were blue.

The spine cut deep into the back.

Water would funnel through the basin of the spine and down into the drain.

The hip-bones were sharp.

Eyes wide apart.

Strong arms.

Long neck.

Shoulder blades were two strange animals beneath the skin.

A scar on the knee.

Missing a tooth way in the back,

from a fight one time.

A yellow bicycle.

A copy of Bukowski.

Cigarettes.

Pills.

And the like.

It all happened.

Somehow.

It twisted though my life and left a mess.

As the pieces were picked up,

“Did it happen?”

It did.

It happened to me.

 

–Joe Fisher

 

Joe is a writer living in Los Angeles. His plays have appeared in Los Angeles, Portland, New York, Dallas and Chicago. He has also worked on several feature film projects that he will not name because he is too embarrassed to admit he worked on them. He also has a son named Dash and a fish named Billy Bob.

Lethal Love Letters 3

Dear Heroin,
I gave you a shot! Yes, I did today!
Hell I gave you a shot-right in my vein
And you were on point, with what you said
I no longer feel empty, I no longer feel dead
As you seep through my veins
I sit here pensive
My peace is so priceless, my serenity is extensive
I feel like a Queen in some screwed* up strange place
No longer these demons-do I have to face
So I ask of you Heroin
Just to visit once more
Come visit again, just knock at the door!
Nicole D’Settēmi

Nicole is the author of Addictarium: A Heroin Abuse & Recovery Memoir. She is currently living in upstate New York, and is also the author of multiple pieces of lyric poetry, and other writing endeavors. In her spare time she runs a creative design firm, assisting others in need of artistic direction digitally. She loves painting, sketching, and reading when she isn’t busy working on her novels.