“ Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow…
The Reaver – Allister Nelson
Sunday wears a coat of dusted dreams.He creeps up like October wind,dirt and harvest in his palms,sprinkled lightly over Communion wafers.Come evening, he sleeps at inns,several, for he is many colors,and rain creeps in through cracks like snowmelting seeps into the ground.A pitter-patter of his toeas he holds his vigil by firelightcheese and bread in…
Personal Ad: Must – Rachael Z. Ikins
Like long walks on the beach to bury the bodies. Must havesense of subtle fragrance,denouement. Skilled digger, farenough from the water, ocean claws back allof our leftovers for the crabs. Leave hair clips, buttons and can-tabs for crows. They thread sprigs of rosemary through tab rings with beak and claw, drop them like May Day…
Writing/Creativity Prompt Challenge: House of Venomous Things
The Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen Literary Collective loves a good writing/creativity prompt challenge. Our goal is to provide prompts on a regular basis. We hope that our ‘Shadow in the Frame’ prompt stirs your muse and that you consider submitting your prompt response to Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen for publication. We welcome poetry, prose, flash fiction, creative…
My Last Innocent Year – Georgiann Carlson
as an only childI had freedompeace and quietmy own lifeno one bothered memost importantlyI had my own thoughtsI grew into a party girlalways dancingalways having funeloped at twenty-onehe was toughstrongbeautifullife was perfectwe were perfectthen I had our first childa sonand in that single momenteverything changed foreverI had had my last innocent yearwithout ever knowing it…
The Art of Magical Overthinking – Trisha Leigh Shufelt
I’m an artista painter, and a poet du jourmaster of many mediumswith inspiration galoremy art carries a hefty price tagI’m known by my namelove me or hate memy art is never the sameyou see, the best art is the artI create in my headat night, when the world is asleepmy art haunts me like the…
True Crime: the Inheritance – Rachael Z. Ikins
Wheelchair’s smiling tires said, find me dead, chase my husband.And yes, she lay like a wrapper used-up.Disjointing shadows, stairs, one afternoon, A radiologist, a chest surgeon, studied the X-rays. No chocolate bar shatters into such shards;fat fingers, brown beneath manicured nails.*****Young physicians, inexperience, stuck lips shut around this mouthful.Husband, boss, moved his money, girlfriend to…
We, the Unhinged (are so good-looking…) – Stephanie L. Harper
—An In-titled Poem* On earth, do unto others as earthlings do: one) share the long and winding roads; two) greet strange hearts with song; three) there are worse things to endure than thanks unearned, so sing through too-guarded grins, laughs, disdain, the too-long glares, and so on. Wouldwranglers worth their weight in weenies let their…
Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen 