Category Archives: publishing

Red Flags •••••••••••••• mary hannah snider

"soul sanctuary" photo by OneLittleFishie
“soul sanctuary” photo by OneLittleFishie

 

You lack foundation.

 

the absence of substance allows for a hull, dark and soiled

With dripping salt,

up from which oozes the paranoia of such squalid thoughts.

 

Deep to the core of you,

The ancient-mortared and sickly

slick of you,

 

It is grey.

Uninhabited by squarely laid designs,

instead, the heaps of ladders mounted,

compromised, abandoned for any upcoming divinity.

 

A well so long ago forged is hard to cap.

It’s gravity a danger to any passerby only knowing

once it is far too late,

by the markings,

the crimson clawings

On your vacant walls.

 

©MaryHannahSnider 2016

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Tentacle 7 ~~~~~~~~~~ Mermaid ~ Magdalene ~ Surfs ~ Again

"mermaid magdalene" digital collage by OneLittleFishie
“mermaid magdalene” digital collage by OneLittleFishie

 

The buoy of empty promise only holds air for so long

(I sink like a stone to a watery grave)

Nuclear fission of word and meaning

(My own fault, as per usual)

No accounting for the warp of water

(the nitrogen narcosis)

where everything seems to be a delight.

 

Choked and strangled

from the inside out

by the very element

we’d chosen.

 

I slithered over the desert

taking millions of years

(remember time? I didn’t think so.)

just to dive in

with you

 

and die.

 

©OneLittleFishie 2016

 

 

 

Tentacle 6 ~ Underwater sound distortion (drowning in semantics) these words mean ~nothing~

"your rib is an octopus" by Huebucket
“your rib is an octopus” by Huebucket

Crimson soaked and dripping wings of joy

I remember you. In her belly with the particles of dust.

The womb of creation where we watched time unfold.

Where we were one. An ancient race created with that lost magic. Ripped apart in such violence that the sorrow stained my soul through the millennium.

I never remembered to what I owed this affliction. A melancholy through the times of grief and joy.

When I gazed upon your smile and reached through your eyes I saw the mirror and recognized myself. My eternal partner, my other half.

I relived the torment of what happened so many eons ago. The pain would be unbearable if not for the exaltation of this reunion!

And in this moment I felt healed. As though time began again. The wrongs forged into an eternal truth. A natural force of gravity drawing upon itself.

Endless, without boundaries:

Unconditional love.

 

©Capt.Nemo, 2015

tentacle 5 ~~~~~~~~~~ (t)pentacle

by Carrie Ann Baade, used without permission
by Carrie Ann Baade, used without permission

 

Survival is seductive.

 

My continued existence, nothing short of

miraculous;

 

magnetic.

 

(I’m indestructible.

I’ve got

moxie!)

 

Scars on scars. Faulty armor.

(Battle stories are so pedestrian.)

 

Enjoy the spoils of my war

while you champion another’s cause;

 

I’ve made it this far as an army of one.

 

(Challenge accepted;

cue strategic thinking).

 

After all, it’s simply a matter

of

figuring out

how to win your heart

 

and

stop

eating

mine.

 

©OneLittleFishie2016

 

the kraken: an epic saga interlude~~~~~~~~~~~ (oxygen overload)

image found online, artist unknown, used without permission
image found online, artist unknown, used without permission

 

when I don’t breathe

(suspension),

the cosmos we’ve created

surges eternal

through my retinal vein

 

(molecular galaxies

of atomic import).

 

with the first gasp back

in this reality’s artifice,

I’m captivated by you

and I rejoice…

 

although…

(stay still)

sometimes…

(don’t say it)

 

there is too much

respiration

in this mirror world.

 

how dare you

(how

dare

you)

 

acquit me of

perfection?

 

@OneLittleFishie2015

tentacle 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hers

russian matchbook cover, early 20th century
russian matchbook cover, early 20th century

 

Alexandria evaporated in flame

(Cleo’s consort turned out to be

the wrong reptile,

entirely).

 

Embers of knowing take flight;

dancing in starlight,

bounding across desert sands,

(a final gambol through

flowered fields)

and settling in, on the Peninsula.

 

They burn slowly, on the Moor.

 

Wisdom of every love prior lived,

is a Siren song

to the Moth;

she gasps with the blood-pulse to her wings

and curls into a smoldering embrace,

finding a Universe

unified

once again.

 

©OneLittleFishie2015

 

tentacle 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ his

Russian poster for the 1917 Polish film 'The Abyss'
Russian poster for the 1917 Polish film ‘The Abyss’

 

I saw the Moon and thought of you:

 

A reflection of the life I walk,

A reflection of the reality I’ve made.

 

The dreamers’ muse that sings her song;

 

The song of laughter, that echoes

for me.

 

Tears of longing falling in my path;

A dream

of walking

(the reflection of two worlds).

 

Tomorrow, we will hold hands, my Moon…

To laugh.

To love.

To dance our dance.

 

Tonight I dream; your light is my guide.

 

Tomorrow,

your essence

is my

reality.

 

©CaptNemo2015