Skip to main content

This morning I wanted to send you a photo essay: The Year in Volcanic Activity by Marisa Silva-Dunbar

You’d see the beauty in a fountain of lava, fires spreading
across the blacktop, the necessity of creation after destruction.

I drink tea—try to swallow my suspicions with lemon and honey,
the bright sweetness doesn’t stop my obsession with destruction.

Monday, I will try not to disintegrate—try to unravel the lies,
how you once wanted a weak girl who shared the same type of destruction.

I find ways to eviscerate your former paramours in conversation
with others; I have been leisurely indulging in my own destruction.

Sometimes I want to spill the secrets that I keep from you;
I see ghosts around every corner—they poke at my fear of destruction.

My anxiety is death by a thousand cuts—yours a slow suicide;
we do our own dances with the Grand Dame and Varlet—Destruction

Even on the days when I rage alone, I long for the nights curled next to you
tracing sigils on your back to protect you from self-destruction.

Archetypes sewn in my bones—I’ve mastered the Earth Mother & Maiden,
but I want to be your Femme Fatale—harnessing the power of destruction.

There are times I want to runaway—Marisa won’t live here anymore;
You must call me back, and promise there is no need for destruction.

---

Marisa Silva-Dunbar is a Pushcart nominated poet. Her work has been featured in: Royal Rose Magazine, Pussy Magic, Bone & Ink, Amaryllis, Midnight-Lane Boutique, and Constellate Literary Journal. She graduated from the University of East Anglia with her MA in poetry. Marisa is the founder and EIC of Neon Mariposa Magazine. She has work forthcoming in Honey & Lime, The Charles River Journal, Dark Marrow, and Apathy Press. You can follow her on Twitter @thesweetmaris.

Comments

  1. I am very thankful to you that you have shared anxiety information with us. I got some different kind of knowledge from your webpage, and it is helpful for everyone. Thanks for share it. Full spectrum CBD

    ReplyDelete
  2. The second thing you need to consider in such a time poor world is how long you want to spend cleaning your new shower screen glass, and how easy it is to maintain. goglass.co.uk

    ReplyDelete
  3. The information you've provided is quite useful. It's incredibly instructional because it provides some of the most useful information. Thank you for sharing that. disposable vape

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Home by Jessa Forest

Home scratches at her shingles with tree branch fingers, pulls the air conditioning unit close to her grimy aluminum siding, and keens an empty song of mourning. We found her wandering the tornado snarled wild three months ago, starved and lonely. She doesn’t know how to take care of herself, you see? We fed her shards of dining room tables, kindling for the fireplace, and cast iron bathtubs clawed feet first. She was slow to recover so we gutted her plumbing, ripped out her nerves, and rewired the electricity. She let the water in every time it rained so we put a new roof on her and let her out for regular walks around the wolf pen. Let her mingle with the vultures, I said, let her feel useful and clean up the dead but no one wanted to listen. We found rot an mold in her corners, infused her insulation with antibiotics, and quarantined her for two weeks while she belched ladderback chairs, sofa cushions, wind chimes, and broken bookcases. She still has her bad days. After feeding time

“Are You So Tired Then, Stranger?” by Ace Boggess

  —Dick Allen, “B&B”    Wind exhausts with its icy fists. Knives of rain wear me down, & leaves in their helicopter swirls like leaflets dropped from a plane. October depletes me, & November. They’ve too much busyness. They send me spinning, dancing, lonely with the rake, the broom. I surrender, collapsing like an old barn, debris of me piling in a chair with clear view of the television.  News is on. It spends me. Talk of politics, also. I’d like  to shut up the voices that fatigue. They hum like a B-flat in the pipes. They bicker & scold, condemn. They expend me like carrying  groceries up a flight of stairs  until I’m too drained to care  which side they’re on. --- Ace Boggess is author of six books of poetry, including  Escape Envy  (Brick Road Poetry Press, 2021),  I Have Lost the Art of Dreaming It So , and  The Prisoners . His writing has appeared in  Michigan Quarterly Review, Notre Dame Review, Harvard Review, Mid-American Review,  and other journals. An ex-c

Why Men's Judgements of New Clothes Shouldn't Be Trusted by Simon Williams

I join four men outside the fitting room, while women try on size 14 with 16 in reserve. We’re trying to look in place and failing. It’s important not to let your eyes settle on any racked garment for over 30 seconds or any racked customer for over five. This is especially true if the fitting room in anywhere near lingerie. Nobody is interested in our slight discomfort; five expressionless faces keen to compress time, urgent to breathe less material air. People want to read Big Thoughts on how we were misused as boys, how we were louts on bikes. But it has come to this; such a longing for a brief appearance from the cubicle, a show-off of prospective wear that all clothes look wonderful on you. --- Simon Williams  has eight published collections, his latest being a co-authored pamphlet with Susan Taylor,  The Weather House , published in 2017 by Indigo Dreams. Simon was elected The Bard of Exeter in 2013, founded the large-format magazine,  The Broadsheet  a