Under My Wing

For Stephanie Bennett-Henry   I have never felt a smooth landing beneath my feet, nor have I ever been lucky enough to tuck one under my wing and breathe great gusts of relief as if I had been saved. I know what it's like to scrape myself and pull away from the concrete with a … Continue reading Under My Wing

The Heart of Winter- Christine Ray

I love her work

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

My heart

a block of sculptured ice

buried deep behind

steel ribs

hung with icicles

offering dagger sharp protection

An arctic palace

of empty chambers

where glacial winds

flash freeze unwanted feelings

blow them deep into dungeons

blood is crystallized

in frozen nitrogen veins

heartbeat slowed

like a wound down pocket watch

My dreams haunted nightly

by my dead

again and again

they appear

bright cheeked


unaware. . .

or perhaps unconcerned. . .

by their fates

They murmur

that I am the ghost here

rendered translucent



from years of suppressed grief

They whisper in my ear

to remove the splinter

from my eye

that blinds me

to myself

these truths

it is time

they say

to examine the shape

the sharpness

of my grief. . .

that spring thaw

is long, long overdue

Christine Ray  writes for   Brave and Reckless  and is a writer and…

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On Poetry #2

    Plagiarism is the tool of a coward and a fool. © Nicole Lyons 2018

To My Daughters, on International Women’s Day

From 2016 – Happy International Women’s Day – A letter to my daughters

The Lithium Chronicles

I know you’re scared; but I need you to know that it’s okay to be scared. I’m going to tell you something that I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time now. I have a secret: Being scared is a good thing.

That excited sizzle in the air right before you get up in front of the school to sing, without the scared in your belly, that electric anticipation may not be as strong. You see, scared often goes hand in hand with excited.

Right now you’re living a life of Firsts. That’s a pretty tall order for anyone, so you feel like you’re always scared. Attempting something for the first time can be scary, but wow, what memories you have made, and you’re no longer scared to do those things that you’ve already done. Scared likes to show up when we’re anticipating something, we often bring scared about…

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Out of My Hands – Matthew D. Eayre

This one made me cry, a lot. Just stunning work from Matt.

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

The voices in my head
told me, today
they want to see other people
and I don’t know
if I should be jealous
or happy
because I have been wanting
to hear new voices
for quite a while.

For a thousand-thousand years
my hands have held tightly
holding weapons of self-destruction
or bouquets of hope
squeezing the cold and unresponsive hands of life lost too soon
clawing at dark and imaginary walls
prisoners of silent screams echoing through time.

My hands have caused pain,
and they’ve soothed wounds.
My hands have been instruments of wonder, building legends from mist and recording prophecies in stone.

My hands have been unwelcome guests in my own pockets, useless and despised.

Given a true purpose my hands become valuable, irreplaceable tools.

My hands had never touched a home
until the day my secrets poured through the gate they formed over my face, and into…

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Dearest Lover

I have known you before, dear lover, sat for eons upon your knee, but in this time, sweet lover, you have been hidden away from me. And if I am to be taken from you, dearest lover, or you are to be taken away from me, would you know me again, sweetest lover or would … Continue reading Dearest Lover

Modest Phantom – Mitch Green

Mitch Green is a welcomed addition to SD, we are so pleased to feature his poetry and his art. Check him out!

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Haunted thin. Another malefactor
in the tabernacle of sober innocence.
Sheathed inward, between a soiled
pair of linen and wood, the man in
black wool bares illuminant eyes.

Secrets stacked on the forehead of
monstrous oppression; a catalog criminal.
Smokey cocks sifted through fragments
of mien – detoxing the nimble phantom
in nothing. Modest bones knew how to
collapse, inhaling tufts of fur.

The colorless beauty.
The iron warmth of man.
The living lore of Lilith.

{Mitch Green founded Rad Press Publishing in September of 2016. He is an avid artist in visual design and literature. Published in various literary journals and magazines: The Literary Yard. The Penmen Review. Vimfire Magazine – Mitch aims to seize the narrow line between all artistic mediums.

A few of his known poetic titles are: “Flesh Phoenix” “Monsters” “The Wolves Howled”.

Offering his hand in graphic direction – his book design portfolio can be…

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