i get lost / i get low

bad maze, lousy labyrinth, rough warren, etc

[nosebleedclub]

Hi friends,

I am so excited to present a FREE collaborative zine brought to you by Nosebleed Club!  This one is focused on MYTH and features work by some incredible writers, including Sorel ( @bonemeadows ), Raquel ( @inkskinned ), Foxy ( @foxyvalley ), Violet ( @sylvanecritures ), and Emma ( @daedalians )!  

🌻 CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD —MYTH— FOR FREE 🌻

Please keep on the lookout for more releases, as well as prompts and activities! 

Thanks! 

—

Pictured: cover page, contents, introduction (excerpt), YOU AS A VISION IN A GROCERY STORE AISLE (excerpt), WE COME BACK HERE (excerpt)

[daedalians]

rushlight 

whenever she tells me about J the child in me takes notice. so many of us were the type of kids who were scared of the dark.

*

we circle the neighbourhood together but the school is gone, another one of T’s torn down landmarks taking the shape of a big dirt hole.

J’s old house still stands despite the fire, an unremarkable survivor.

*

something like this: his mom working the late shift again, J and the candle between the cushions, the glow barely dispelling what scared him, pushing it away but still around him and only getting closer the heavier his eyes.

*

the second big twinge is when T tells me about the funeral after, the way J’s mother cried over T and their friends, awestruck like something scorched across the whole of her skull.

[daedalians]

dereliction 

When I go back there its ethan i see, sitting on my bed playing with the ancient stuffed animal of the dead chimpanzee.

“how do you know it’s dead?” “look at its eyes.”

i see his brown mop of hair, getting caught up in the irregular swirls on the crown of his head as he stares carefully at the old vintage toy my grandmother gave me when I was 8 years old.

ethan thumbs his pearl grey eyes carefully and i tell him, “they used to be white with black centres for his pupils, but one morning i found him like this and i knew that he died.”

“oh,” ethan says, spoken in a whisper, as we do for the asleep, sick, or dead.

unknown to me under ethan’s little hands was the chimpanzee’s false lashes blinking a slow creak against his thumb.

[daedalians]

Portrait

every so often it will catch me off guard. like accidentally making eye contact with your own reflection, that startled sense of recognition, that’s what happens sometimes when i see photos of my mother as a little girl.

*

all my life she was kicking me out of her house for one reason or another, ferociously calling my father on the phone to come pick me up. and he would, the car idling at the side of the street, me going out to his car still crying, my backpack in hand for the impromptu night spent at dad’s.

*

the thing is, you run from these things or you’re pushed. “don’t come home.” that was my mother the last time. the yellow glow from my father’s porch lighting me all the way up.

it was fine because i was already on my way out. it was more of a painful gesture than anything, she did it because she still could.

[daedalians]

Frozen Lake

in summers we don’t realize how happily we play in graveyards

man-made lakes being more sinister, i used to imagine thousands of cool, bloodless hands

writhing from the false bottom like weeds

but its the winter months to watch out for— the glacial empty days where the lake

becomes nothing but miles of flat glass, a hushed pasture for bodies

disappearing silently as ice

[daedalians]

HORN

baby i knew you were special the moment you came outta me with that horn growing forlorn from the back of your head.

precious as anything, screaming like god, wrapped up in my blood and guts you came out astonishing,

a spectacular creature! from the crown of your head that bright bite of bone, curling towards me like a startled flower.

[daedalians]

you posting your writing again in this year 2021 is a blessing unto the world

stefan..i love u sm⚡️💞  its rly the nbc return thats doing it for Me personally 💁‍♂️

[daedalians]

Bewildering

oh my god would you look at that: those big medieval jaws coming down as red and bruising as a sunset.

[daedalians]

Power Outage  (prompt from nosebleedclub)

The whole city went dark, but it wasn’t just our city. It was half the country, all because of some power plant in Michigan. That summer was an airless broil and a plague of lady bugs crawled over every surface. When the power went out, I remember Rob filling the tub with bathwater—just in case. He had done the same thing during Y2K. He told me if the power never came back we’d be eating from soup cans. I was pre-school aged and disgusted, imagining spooning out clumps of tomato paste from the pried open lid of a desiccated Campbell’s.

From that summer I picture only the backyard. The dog running around, his overlarge doghouse blocking the view. Bright red insect bodies flying prettily. A whole alien world. I can’t remember how long the power outage lasted, only that during the days that followed people were more careful. Everything at lowlight, even the big box stores turned off their bright neon signage for a time. It sounds peaceful, but it was almost like the world was ending: quietly, the lights going back on and then quickly out again.

[nosebleedclub]

January Prompt Challenge

1. Power outage 2. Bewildering 3. Horn 4. Frozen Lake 5. Portraiture 6. “Don’t come home” 7. Unknown 8. Whisper 9. Derelict 10. Scorched 11. “Don’t tell your mother” 12. Theater 13. Nuclear 14. Boar 15. Lychgate 16. Pollution 17. Cardinal 18. Impale 19. Cellar 20. Old Wives’ Tale 21. Footprints 22. Demonic host 23. 1993 24. Family heirloom 25. Tentacle 26. Music box 27. Solace 28. Daguerreotype 29. Powdered sugar 30. Hellebore 31. Apotheosis

[daedalians]

Is your old poem Creature Map still up? I've been trying to find the text in full, since I found a credited excerpt from it, but all I can find is links to a reblog of it on a blog that no longer exists.

lmao that one’s ancient! it’s actually on my personal blog over here

[daedalians]

[daedalians]

its crazy to see how much better ur poetry is now compared to just 3 years ago, and it wasnt even bad then.... wow! gives me hope lol

thank u so much! its funny to hear bc for Me its always been my earlier writing that i find to be the most interesting n enjoyable. writing has noooot been a linear growth for me At All but like... a desire 2 find n hold onto the voice that came unbidden at 17 when i was first learning to write poetry. i was like an artist with line confidence. i miss that bitch! i feel like tumblr hasn’t rly gotten 2 see me on top of my game! bedrock was me saying  “this is the type of poet i am” 

[daedalians]

Bedrock

Everything has been about Caves. We remember them.

In the dark shadow of my apartment I think, this is a cave. The rain follows. Everything about CaveWork necessitates dampness.

We become locked from stone, a wide field of bison just out of our reach.

What do we do? Well the eye turns inward.

Pressing an ear to the walls of the heart, trying to listen for the great Echo, collecting our animal fat brightness and mixing into the greater distance.

Another cave is the SUBMARINE, really anything that reaches back.

[daedalians]

having an absolutely shit, monotonous day and seeing your poetry on my dash pulled me out of it just a little bit, just enough. thank you.

reminded again that art is all abt reciprocity. im so touched, i love u & am grateful

[daedalians]

fructified

that stunning communion yr after yr with the trees

blossoming like there’s never been any danger

u begin by remembering what it must have been like, in another time

the planet is so shocking, every season bringing along  revelations

[daedalians]

i’m finally gonna say it: i don’t want poetry to save me. like, i’m just not interested, i can’t mythologize it all. what i want is to be present. i don’t wanna be the raving oracle moving my body to tell ugly stories. don’t get me wrong, the stories are still ugly, but imagine if the body could be joyous? imagine if there were more to it than pain? i wanna be guided beyond it, anyway, toward the muddled translation of light. like, what’s gonna save me now? picture this, it rains and its not about me.