September Bi-Monthly Feature

September Gallery Features!

Hello cool cats! Every few months, we like to get together and showcase some great pieces in our gallery! Check these pieces out! They're all fantastic!



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A Poem most people can relate to; those tricky teen years and all they bring.

TypingTurtleShe types the words slow.
Holding them close in her head,
 She lets them all go.
And sighs..
The words just won't flow,
No matter how hard she tries.
Yet they echo in her head.
Like the  broken up whispers,
That lie in her bed.
A past full of feelings, That bleed so strong.
A word from her head
could undo the wrongs.
..she opens her mouth
The earth starts to slow.
All light dims out,
Her eyes start to glow.
 Everything is nothing
Just a glimpse,   of future past.
But she can't keep up
Her dreams are just too vast.
A keystroke interrupts
Her thoughts
 too fast.
So she types the words slow.
Guarding them in her head,
She lets them flow.
  Yet again,
   She sighs.
They just won't go
 But still,
She tries..
A Charming and well-written, rhythmic piece.



sacrosanct perversionhe is
my paragon of feverish intemperance
my casanova
my galatea
my blue-flamed boy nova
he is
the burning of my besotted wits-end and start
the reticence under the gape of endless stars
whose abdomen fell
prey to my scathing eyes and starving claws
whose mien asphyxiated
by my irrepressible thirst
to osculate
to navigate
past his past lovers and navel gait
how i pine
for the warmth of his gargantuan laughs
for the coolness of his gaze transfixed
on my lips
for this
for his
blue-fire fervor and inferno
withal
dearest penned don
should she
scallop-shelled goddess
grant me my sip of the holy grail
i would become a polyglot existence
singing of her myrtle and doves
and my mirabile dictu love
on every known continent
blue-blaze transcendent
A non-traditional and deeper take on love. Beautifully written, and wonderful in a non-cliché fashion.

Faded...BelovedThere was a voice in the back of her head
It said:
Don't lose yourself yet.
But the frontal lobe of her cerebral cortex.
Is a vortex:
"I'm dying."
It tore her eyes out...yet she still sees.
Not me:
"Who's that trip-trapping over my bridge?"
The wolf passed over...not under still waters.
For daughters:
"Mommy's gone"
And she screams in a still space
With no face:
"You're melting glass...and time will pass."
Crow hovers over tepid seas
Bandaged knees:
"Fell on society...no reaction."
Padded cells for pretty minds.
Conscious binds:
"Lock her up and throw away the key..."
Achene depths at the bottom of the sea...
“There was a voice in the back of her head. It said: Don't lose yourself yet.” These starting lines suck you in into a thought-provoking piece. There is much to interpret from this.



*Once We Were Lovers*Brittle bones embrace
Macabre midnight moment
Dead tears fall unseen.
Delice1941
2nd June2014
"All rights reserved"
A somber tale of tragic love.

on Always Being One Less...It's hard to sleep,
When you don't see a point,
In waking up
Still one of my favorite pieces I’ve seen in awhile. The ending just hits you, and is one I think many people can relate to.



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Two Words: Evil. Mermaids.

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Nostalgia mixed with cynicism are the parts that lead to this Alice in Wonderful inspired piece.



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Like a Shakespearean Slasher film, if that were a thing.

His Grinning Skull                                                   ‘Waiting for the end to come…’
                                                                                     - Linkin Park.
                                                           ‘I need to get my bearings!
                                               I’m lost and the shadows keep on changing’
                                                                                     - Poe.
The Jack-O-Lanterns line my garden path obediently, their maliciously contorted faces illuminating the way to my front door. Three pumpkins on either side. Six terrifying faces in all. Each pumpkin has a unique expression carved deeply into its flesh, the next more disturbing and sadistic than the one before. The white candles placed within them radiate a congregation of flickering lights, casting shadows of their grinning faces onto the pathway before them.
I’ve always f
Both creepy and well-written. Nobody likes the feeling of being watched.




A visual poem about love. The visual itself comes as a surprise considering the genre of the poem.

Melancholy thoughtsI taste
the sweetness
in your words,
only to wonder
how many others
have tasted
them too.
A more melancholy look on romance. The ending is beautiful and unexpected.



Apocalyptic LogThe first person to lay their eyes on the Oort went mad.
In those first days, when humanity finally achieved near-light-speed travel, we didn't see any artistry in the stars, any poetry to our endeavors. We saw endless desolation, we saw gamma radiation, we saw black holes swallow up entire star systems, we saw a lot of random radio noise from dying stars and rogue gas giants. With the Oort, we saw one hundred thousand astronomical units of randomly dispersed clumps of ice, silent and nearly motionless in near-total dark.
When the first colony was set up in orbit of Proxima Centauri, it was placed on a completely uninhabited ball of rock and water, a planet that by all means could have had earth-like life on it but which was inexplicably uninhabited. There were others. Upsilon Andromedae, 359 Wolf, Gliese 445. A thousand years past and a handful of worlds were made into new earths. Humanity grew into a small empire, spanning one hundred light years, inhabiting thirty worlds.
We had no
The devastation of human-kind: Sc-Fi with a touch of horror. A great mix.

Wasteland Samurai    Soft, stinging inconvenience was left in the wake of the sandstorm that blew through the stucco town of Pisces. Brooms, shovels, garbage cans, dumpsters and whatever vehicular support the town could muster would bring a swift and speedy end to this golden mess. Samuel and Vincent were working a line gang passing buckets to each other going both ways. The sun stood proud on post, beaming a less than welcomed smile as shirts dampened, and brows and noses and chins dripped with salty labor. All manner of men, whether their pockets were lined with lint or with gold or with guilt shoveled burdensome grains to be carried off outside the city to pile up two miles to the west.
    A seat at the bar with frosty cold brews waited for every man who wanted their pat on the back in the form of a bottle; your heart’s content on the house for the evening. Vincent dropped himself into a candy-lacquered booth rubbing his denim overalls over the faux leather.
Reminds me of Trigun (the anime). This story utilizes creative wording and metaphors very well.



Nobody is No OneAmongst cobwebs tethered by silk thread to the joining of two frigid walls, a huddled mass of breath shuddered. Whispers of coal and ash dusted the ground. A charred white nightgown splotched in grime and soot hung limply on the bones, ragged teeth cut into small, numb stubs, useless. Her feet dry and cracked like the insatiable longing her throat cried out for, hoping to find just a morsel of oasis left in a desert that gained new territory everyday. She could not cry, which, considering she did not have enough emotion left in her reserves to sustain it anyway, mattered little.
Shivering, she swallowed another mass of cragged wood. Shadows sulking in the dim light departed for just a moment, enough to reveal the wince and the squint of a hollowed eye. The departed radiance of oceanic eyes almost blended into the walls, so darkened by life. She always thought it was death that followed her here, so she groped and held on to the marionette strings fastened to her body like they were the
There are people out there that love you. Sometimes it’s nice to read something to remind you of that.


Cat Dictionary
Allogrooming- You will sit still while I lick your head, or your ear shall be bitten.
Balance- A thing I possessed more of when I still had my front claws.
Ball- A toy to be pushed until it rolls under a couch.
Book- The thing placed on the bed that is more comfortable to sit on than the bed itself.
Cat thunder- The noise I make over your head while chasing my friend on the second floor and running up and down the stairs.
Claws- Grappling hooks for climbing up my human's back to sit on her shoulder.
Cow udder- The first sign that I am losing my slender figure.
Ctenocephalides felis- Flea, or, A two-for-one parasite special: tapeworms included free of charge.
Daylight- A thing which is overrated by humans.
Dermatophytosis- Ringworm, or, The reason my human's arms are itching so much.
Dirofilaria immitis- Heartworm, or, The disease I am ashamed to admit I share with the dog.
Dog- The creature who's face I like to sniff while it is snarling at me.
Insomnia- Definition not
As a cat owner, I found this both hilarious and absolutely true.



Because Writing Keeps Me Human               Just because it is burning my mind, and it holds a grenade that blasts everything I have into remnants of his musky scent; because I feel like I'm gagging, except that I'm coughing poems and vomiting metaphors; because words can be a crumpled piece of paper drowned in tears, and every poem written can be blended into fiction; and because my limbs feel like they had been devoured by the lava in the words and the music notes I play sink deep between the piano keys, and apparently banging the keys does not help silencing the empty screams at night.
               Because the clock seems to slow down whenever I am planting your name in ink and paper; and because nobody ever listens to me the way poetry do; because poetry sees the "warning: fragile, handle with care" sign on me and knows that I break easily; because I can sculpt him into dreams and heavens and he will never know he exists in poems
At the end of the day, I think this is why most of us choose to be writers.

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Raw with emotion. This hit me in the feels.



How I overcome writer's block.I'm by no means an authority on writing, but I do have eight unpublished novels under my belt. I hope that in sharing some of the lessons I've learned along the way, others might dodge a few literary hurdles. I don't believe all writers write alike, so I don't expect that my own approach to prose will work for everyone. Maybe not anyone. But if you glean something from my experiences, I'm glad to help.
How I overcome writer's block.

Writer's block. The dread curse of the literary world. It happens to everyone. Often, the darn thing settles like a boulder in our already precarious path and doesn't budge for days or weeks or maybe even years on end, leaving us bereft and parched in a creative desert. But while writer's block is a daunting challenge to overcome, it is only that -- a challenge. I used to get it a lot, and I still get it now, but I get it a lot less. How?

I write something else.
I'm not a rigid plot planner and I don't sink my teeth into one no
How to overcome writers block.

Reading as a WriterHave you ever set down a book for good because you found something in it you don’t like? If you want to write, I suggest that bad habit end now.
Why, you ask? Because everything you read—and I mean everything–has positive value for you as a writer. Stephen King, and any author worth his or her salt, is a huge advocate of writers reading massive amounts.
Again you ask, why? How can everything be useful? There are a number of reasons and I’ll cover as many as I can.
Reading bad literature teaches you about yourself and shows you what to avoid—or at least how not to do something—in your own work. If you run across something that you don’t like, stop and ask yourself why you don’t like it. Is it just a personal preference? Was it out of place or poorly executed? Does it contradict something from earlier? As soon as you figure out the “why” of something’s badness, you learn a little about yourself and you
Reading as a Writer. This could aid in improving as a writer. A must read.

Give all of these deviations a well-deserved peek, because they are all awesome If you have any pieces you'd like to see in these features, feel free to note me or the group. The next Bi-Monthly Feature will be on November 1st.