Issue 1 February-FINAL

7/25/2019 Issue 1 February-FINAL

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Indie Affair

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From the Editor in Chief

About Jessica Vieira:

Bitten at a young age to pursuecreative pathways in various artistic

forms, which led to an event filledexistence, while dealing with thestruggles presented within ourexistence, gaining an understandingand appreciation for life and allof its organic beauty. Writing hasbeen a calling to her soul and withher through the years albeit, thelast few she has been writing hertake on Ancient Alien theory with

mythology and modern man.

Dear Reader,

I have had the fortune to meet manyincredible souls through Instagram.Finding a wealth of support for myselfand the community to which I now belong.Being moved and my heart captured by thewords read, once an opportunity presenteditself to assist writers in gaining furtherexposure, I jumped at the chance. A quickglance at this issue shows you our continuedcommitment and resolve to publish a journalof the highest standards devoted exclusively

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Our purpose is to showcase any artist,no matter the background, reaching anew audience, moving each individual, bytouching their heart as we have been. Afterall, sharing is caring, right? Support in theartist community as I have found, is tightknit and welcoming of new talent. In lifethere are struggles, the way we choose toutilize those experiences makes a difference.Helping ourselves or another by sharing the

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Jess ica

Indie Affair is a non-commercial publication dedicated to publishingmeaningful work (articles, stories, poetry, etc.) as well as disseminatingand promoting the work of emerging and established authors andartists through digital innovation.

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CONTENTSIssue 1 - February 15th - 2016

I

P.01 - Overcoming Writers Block

P.02 - There Is A New Challenge For TheMonth Of March!

P.02 - Indulgence came as a voracious...

P.03 - The Ocean...

P.04 - The Tripartite

P.07 - Death Of The Artist InThe Digi tal Age

P.08 - Halloween

P.09 - Night Skies

P.10 - Fines Terrae - (Ends of Earth)

P.12 - They could have star ted...

P.12 - I felt your claws...

P.13 - Reaper

P.14 - He is the one who fears...

P.14 - Last Train

P.15 - A Traitorous Thought

P.16 - Enticing Words

P.17 - The Night The Monsters Come OutTo Play

P.18 - The party mask...

P.18 - The raven blue ink ...

Indie Affair Issue 1

P.19 - Haunted Journal

P.20 - Blessed Be

P.20 - Haiku Poem

P.21 - The walls are covered...

P.22 - Boneless descriptor...

P.22 - And the fateful cry...

P.24 - Nevermore

P.25 - In bitter sanctuary...

P.25 - Exposed

P.26 - His heated gaze...

P.26 - Welcome to the...

P.27 - Credits For Images


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Indie Affair Page 1

Overcoming Writers Block

The inability to produce new material - it

may be temporary, but some have givenup their career because of this pesky littleissue. Stress, distractions, relationships,loss of inspiration or a number of otherthings that affect the psyche, can disruptyour flow and there are many types.Know that youre not alone, many of usfeel blocked at some point in our writingcareer.

Getting inspired is your antidote, obviously.

Take a walk: It will clear your mind andmaking this a regular part of your week canhelp toward better cognitive development.

Be productive: Tackling a needed orprocrastinated project at home can help toclear your mind of a stress thats obstructingthe inspiration and might give a sense ofaccomplishment to get you in the rightmood.

Writ ing Exercises:Jot down random ideasin sentences, writing what you are passionateabout or something you know well, get themusic going to serve as distraction fromthe thoughts swimming on repeat in yourhead, look through photos, art, or natureto loosen up the stiffness you feel at thethought of writing, people watch! It maysound funny, but see where it goes. Mightget you on a thought to be your best pieceyet.

Step out of your comfort zone: Finda subject you know nothing about and

Important Literary Anniversaries:

7th February, 1812Birth of Charles Dickens, one of the mostpopular and widely read English writer of alltimes

6th March, 1475Birth of Michelangelo, the Renaissancegenius. He was a painter, sculptor, architect,poet and visionary best known for his fresco

on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and hissculptures David and The Pieta.

23th April, 1616The 400th anniversar y of the great Wi ll iamShakespeares death. Better known as theBard of Avon, Englands national poet,playwright, and actor. Widely regarded as thegreatest writer in the English language andthe worlds pre-eminent dramatist.

A Litt le Inspirat ion...

Just write ever y day of your life. Read intensely.Then see what happens. Most of my friends who areput on that di et have ve r y pl easant ca ree rs .-Ray Bradbury

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.-William Wordsworth

I am a writer, therefore, I am not sane.-Edgar Allan Poe

By Raven

research, then add your flavor and seethe feedback in your readers comments.

Writers quotes on coping:

Biting my traunt pen, beating myself for spite:Fool said my muse to me, l ook in thy heart,and write.-Philip Sydney, Astrophil and Stella

Writing about write rs block is better than notwriting at all.-Charles Bukowski, The Last Night ofthe Earth Poems


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Indie Affair Page 2

devonwestauthor

poetry_goddess88

Bio: My name is Devon West.I am the author of The WildType. My work is a collectionof every person and experienceIve had; of endless hourswriting. My subjects are verypresent, close. The reader isinvited to join and partake in

the interpretation.

The Wild Typeavailable now on Amazon

w w w . a m a z o n . c o m / d p /B010150E00

Bio: Poetry gave me a voicewhen I was too shy to expressmyself around others. Ivebeen writing since I could burymyself in the adventure ofreading. As a mother of three,a full time teacher, with asupportive and loving husband,I feel that the written wordand creative expression feeds

the soul.

Find me on Wattpad:@CDougherty83

www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B01AIV9OSO?ref=aw_sitb_

digital-text

Indulgence came as a vorac ious , f igure lessChaos erected upon catacombs

Tr ans i t ioning through theor ies of open space. . .Blood, drops s low, dispersed

Over the corporea l f l ameBonding cr imina ls

Beneath the garments of soc ie ty.Chi ldhood t raumas th ick

With na ve p leasureF loat recreat iona l ly

On pa in .

There Is A New Chal lenge For TheMonth Of March!

This past year has brought me c loser to a smal l g roup

of wondrous poets , and commencing the year 2016we dec ided to each take on a month and produce acha l lenge on our IG accounts . My month i s Marchand I t r ied to vary the topics of each day wi th aconnect ion to ideas and images that were meaningful

to me. Look for #marchf i rek isses on Instagram.

Be ready to read some inspi r ingand enterta ining poetry.

(A lso keep an eye out for #cdougherty and#adamandtheves hash tags . )

-C. Dougherty-Berna l

by Devon West


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wordsofsunset

By L.W.

Bio: I love writing, I am 30yea rs o ld , li ving t he d esert li fe

of middle east, a pisces.

The ocean,i t carr ies her soul into the

dep th o f i t ,into the darkestof i t s da rkness,

le t t ing her drowning a longwi th the cur rents.

The ocean,how i t envies her beauty ,i t has been wanting her

for i t se l f ,to be kept for e tern i ty .

The ocean understands her,Only the depth und erstands

her pa in ,only the depth knows that

she is a treasurewho should be h idden from

everyone and everyth ing .

Mot ionless ly she le ts herbrokenn ess ta kes her away,

and away into the depth

of darkness.

Let i t go , l e t i t a l l go . . .dont be afra id of the

chaot ic mess you carryins ide you,

Let go a l l the hatred , thedisappointments ,

le t i t a l l g o .Embrace the bravery you

have inside you.

The voice comeswi th in her.

And there i t i s,the moment of

embrac ing breath ,embracing something that

she has been g iv ing up.

And there she i s,r is ing up towards the sun

that ha s beenwai t ing for her,

embracing the hope thatcomes fr om her

bur ied fa i th .

Hope a bout l ove,about l i fe ,about herself .

And f inal ly,she dares to walk a long with

the waves,she i s no longer afra id of

the depth , o f the darkness ,because she has let

i t a l l g o . . .to be once again,

a human being whos bornout of love ,

l iv ing for love,and to g o one day. . .

to be s tardust of love .


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Indie Affair Page 4

M orr ighan, a warr ior Goddess ofBatt le ; the Pha ntom Queen . Patronof revenge , n ight , pr ies tess , w i tches , andprophe cy. Strength f lows through veins ass t r i fe . An anc ient I r i sh Goddess of Death ,g iv ing v io lent and bloody premoni t ionsof r ioters end of l i fe . Wai l ing the cr iesof the Bane-S idhe , her and her s i s tersBadha and Macha , for ming Morr igu` thetr ip le Goddess three . Born of Ernmas ,

the Mother Goddess , these her secondset of ternary . Spr ings of craf t iness andbi t ter f ights , hold ing the legacy of the i rGrandfather King Nuada whi le s ib l ingsworship them, and men fa l l a t the i r feet .

Known as Washer of the Ford a wonderabout the deserted streams. Washing theblood of one bound to see the i r grave .A passerby wi l l wi tness the crone wi th

an ev i l hear t and eye fu l l of l aughter andshe wi l l wai l her hol lowed deathly cry.His bodi ly c laret sha l l run cold , deathimpending as has been foreto ld . Nevercan he escape , for one of the three i s theGoddess of fa te . Cruor , they a l l craveand his head upon a p la te .

In a meadow of darkened forest n ight ,cr i sp cold a i r sends sh ivers down a sp ine .

Cuchulainn knelt by the r iver s stream,Morr ighan sees the man of whom shedreams. Taking human for m of pure darkbeauty, her long hair f lowi ng and meldin gaga inst the shadowy forest n ight . He,b l inded by concupiscence for aqueousof sanguine bathed upon his sword,cha l lenging the Goddess of war . The loveshe was offer ing turned to d isda in wi thwords of insul t he spoke forever sea l ing

his dest iny. Rais ing his drawn blade andrushing the seemingly de l icate f rame, her

thunderous voice spoke as she foreto ld doomto befa l l . Mere seconds before reaching thetarget of rage , the womanly form became araven and his shadowed hear t de jected wi thunderstanding of what was done.Screaming wai l s were heard f rom a l l around,every mans hear t fe l l courage fear as the

evi l sounds of death neared the f ie ld ofbat t le . Morr ighan began speaking and thewords inc i t ing the beg inning of b loodshedand the f i r s t record of the Bane-S idhe .

Upon arr iva l of Cuchula inn, the hate-f i l l ed soul she had cursed to d ie th is day hedismounted the s teed, b lood pumping wi thsuch intens i ty, h i s l imbs fu l l of s t rength andenergy and mind sharp wi th s t ra tegy . Cl inking

of swords and blood curdl ing cr ies f rom theimpaled await ing the f inishing blow to die .

The TripartiteBy Raven


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Gore soaked the so i l as Morr ighan took thef ie ld , ca l l ing to her s i s ters to form Morr igu` ,the Triple God desses that a l l kne w. Weaponsdrawn from each s i s ter and the vengeance

enjoyed by ever y soul s departure . Arrowsra in f rom both s ides of the campaigncaus ing agony and pa in , indefens ib le whi leengaged in melee to protect the land theyc la imed. Nothing touches Morr ighan,Badha, or Macha ; immorta l and hold thet i t l e o f Dea th incarna te .

Fata l i ty awai ts whi le he f ights w i th s t r uggleagainst his opponent Mor righan strengthens

to crush. Each swing t i res Cuchula inn asnever antecedently , wi l l weakened by theimage of f i re in her eye and a face changingto venom, curs ing demise . Arms s t re tchedhigh guarding each aga inst s t r ike thesheer power in h is opponents might causea s l ip of foot ing and then, the predictedpl ight . . . co ld p ierc ing of s tee l tear ing a twar m f lesh and another b lade to a g labrousthroat . T is th is the fee l of death? Choking

on his b i t ter b lood as the words she ut teredl inger in mind, l ay ing upon the motherland, a lone and dy ing . Eyes fog and s tar tto b lur , the form of a woman walk ings lowly comes near , in f lu id gest icu la t ion;the woman he br uta l ly shunned, he reachesfor wi th one arm outs t retched. Taking tof l ight on wings of a raven she lands uponhis shoulder and the las t breath escapes h ischest and his enemies knew i t was h is death .

Shr iek of Raven heard the whole i s landover, becoming legend of the now knownand feared Bane S idhe , marking the deathshis descendants wi l l face by her prophecy.Goddesses of dark and death , t rust notwhat you th ink to understand, what theysay i s the law of the land.

Many forms can be taken, but a raven caninspi re courage or fear over any bat t lef ie ld

of hatred , seen to be watched over bythe Triple Goddess Morrigu` await ing to

summon s la in so ld iers to a macabre spectra lbane. Cal led upon by Lug to give themstrength aga inst the Formor ians , ask ing ofthe t r io what sha l l they br ing to ass i s t he .

Morr ighan responded, hate in eyes and f i regleamed from her insides. We shal l inst i l lcourage of the ancestors to invigorate eachof your men and deepen the t e r ror of thosewho oppose. My s is ters and I wi l l pursue,subdue, and destroy a l l that s tand ag a instyou. Utterance of her spe l l and war began,the force of Formor ians are dr iven over thec l i f f and into the sea . Morr ighan chants ofv ic tor y then g ives her deadly end prophecy

to a l l who are l i s tening .

I sha l l not see a wor ld that w i l l be dearto me. Summer without f lowers, kine wi l lbe withou t milk. Women without mo desty,men without valor , captures without aking. Woods without mast , sea withoutproduce . Wrong judgments of o ld men,fa l se precedents of Brehons , every man abetraye r , every b oy a reaver .

Son wi l l enter his father s bed, Father wi l lenter his sons bed, Everyone wi l l be hisbrothe r s broth er- in- law. An evi l t ime! Sonwi l l dece ive h is f a ther, d aughter w i l l d ece iveher mother.

Al l s tunned by powerfu l author i ty notknowing what to make of th is daunt ingprophecy, the f ie ld was cleared and the

tr in i ty began col lect ing the heads of fa l lenfor euphemist ica l ly, an acorn crop of theMorr igu . Misty fog of cold ocean chi l lco l lect ing the dead in fu l l moon night ,s ing ing the i r tune for the Bards to spread,horr i fy ing the chi ldren in the i r midnightdread. Taking b lood s ta ined dead of goreand terror to the next incantat ion. Havingwatched a l l the l ives to fa l l , dec id ing eachwhod answer the ca l l . Feeding the land

of g reen , f e r t i li z ing for the next of l i f e tora i se in mother Goddesses name, Ernmas .

Indie Affair Page 5


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corva.de.obsidiana

Bio: This is my creative view ofthe beautiful Dark Goddessesof Ireland. A writer in processto complete her first of manynovels and as of mid 2015 adark poetess writing her jadedsoul. Seeking to learn moreevery day, becoming well

versed in varied subjects.

Having consistently, felt acreative calling for expression

through carefully, craftedpieces upon a multitude ofartistic mediums. The blood inkpenned, is an ode to the onyxhearted soul. Endeavoring topersevere through adversityand strife, which led me to alovely group of people in whichIve found understanding and

support.

The Rising, a poetrycollaboration by my writinggroup #adamandtheeveshttp://www.amazon.com/gp/

aw/d/B01AIV9OSO

Indie Affair Page 6

Al l have purpose in l i fe even those who areof darkness and s t r i fe , to be the end to meremorta l and usher in a new breed of b lood whosmel l s of the i r ancestry . Be ing the Goddesseswho walk the bar rows, a much revered band ofBane S idhe , and the Washer of the Ford whoforete l ls proph ecy. This is why al l Witches andPr ies tesses ca l l in the n ight , seek ing revenge

in the name of Morr igu . Once ca l led upon i t si r revocable and wi l l take l ives of a l l named,res tor ing ba lance of whom was v ic t imized,murdered, and defamed. Blood thirsty vengeanceenacted, protect ing al l who worship the Morrig u,chant ing the invocat ion of Morr ighan, Macha ,and Badha sha l l be forever under safeguard byact ion.

The Tr ip le G oddesses, a symbol o f s trength a nd

independence for a l l women. A moon of threesignal s your love and devotion to natu res orderof death through l i fe . Honor your protectors byshr ine . A bowl symbol iz ing the hold ing of l i fe ,b lood wi th in shows the g iv ing of apotheos isin l i fe , a s ing le raven feather as the chosenform that personi f ies the Goddesses . F ina l ly , acr imson cl oth giving exa ltat ion fo r the Washerof the Ford. A l l of these g ive the respect toour protect ing t r ipar t i te , the Phantom Queens

of immorta l i ty.


10/31

devonwestauthor

Bio: Devon West Author ofThe Wild Type . . . we were alldreams lost in the mucus of

the night. . .w w w . a m a z o n . c o m / d p /

B010150E0O

Indie Affair Page 7

T he ar t i s t of today no longer workswi th in the fabled sol i tude of the o ldmasters . But to a lesser degree exists , ini t s idea l . His work process i s exposed on apubl ic p la t form before i t has undergonethe necessary incubat ion per iod tor ightfu l ly mature and surv ive the scr ut inyit wi l l without a doubt be submitted to.This unedi ted rough draf t i s presentedon soc ia l media as an ongoing work in

progress or the popular par t of a l argerwork both to indicate, th is i s not mybest work, and of course copyr ight .

Both acts done under intenseself-consciousness, inst inct ivelyunderstanding that by doing so , they arein ef fect se l l ing themselves short , tothe devi l . Neverthe less the inf luenceand pressure of the herd weigh heavyenough, to be persuaded into shar ing the i rar t , l aunching i t into the shark infestedwaters of soc ia l media , which preva i l s asa necessar y ev i l .

A place where s imple capt ions are be ingmanipulated and s to len by anonymousv is i tors, co l lect ing mater ia l for the i rown publ icat ions; l ike picking f lowersfrom what they deem a publ ic garden.

The h ashtag poetr y i s n ot d ead n avig atesad nauseam by the same indiv idua ls

whom are consuming i t f ree of charge,perpetuat ing the romant ic not ion of the s tarv ing ar t i s t . By d isregarding thesubt le t ies of creat ion i t se l f ; and adding afa l se sense of warrant in an atmospherebrewing wi th suspic ion.

The end resu l t i s an ar t i s t ic deathc i rcu la t ing in a v i r tua l cosmos, whereanything can be de le ted .

Death Of The Artist In

The Digital Age

By Devon West


11/31

no_dear

Bio: My name is Tiara likethe crown. My only goal in lifeis to make peopl e happy. To beable to touch them with myideas, and comfort them with

my words.

Indie Affair Page 8

T he r ich smel l of bakedgoods and pumpkin scentedcandles wafted through the air .

My mother shook her h ips s ideto s ide , as she s t i r red the mixin the bowl . She brought thespoon up to her mouth to tas tethe batter . Smil ing soft ly shewhispered the words perfect ,drumming her fest ive themednai ls on the marb le counter to p.El izabeth she sa id , caus ingme to take a s tep back a lmostfa l l ing off the s ta i rwel l . Youdthink t hat by now I woul d have

gotten used to her be ing so wel laware of her surroundings l ikethat .

Please tel l me you are nt wearingthat o ld costume she s ighed,wiping her hands on her cr i spywhi te apron. L izzy ! Lizzy !my l i t t l e s i s ter ye l led boundingdown the s ta i rs in her e laborateprincess dress . Boo! Lizzie ,goes boo mommy! She g igg ledskipping past me, r ight into ourmothers arm s.

My mother scooped her up,doing her best not to face me.El izab eth I just wish youd tryto get more into the sp i r i t .My mom sighed as she walkedaway. You used to dress sopretty , and fest ive, she said.Yo u know, maybe i t s hard for

her to understand, I mean I seeher point . What g i r l wears thesame Hal loween costume yearaf ter year? The one day of theyear that you can be anythingyou want .

Personal ly I think people useHal loween to express how theyfee l . They h ide behind the i rclothing and fake personal i t ies ,wa i t ing for the day to be

themsel ves. The ones who dressscary are the ones who tend to

HalloweenBy Tiara

use the hol iday for an excuse tof inal ly b e wi ld and free. The o nesin the pretty costumes, want tolook beaut i fu l and e legant . Theyrefuse to let the typical att i resstop them from catching eyesthat hardly ever g lance the i rway.

Then there s me, and I m thesame thing every year , but i t sa lmost as i f I don t need acostum e. I m basical ly the samething e very d ay. I know what youmay be thin king but no, I dondress up as myself . I dress up

as a ghost , same costume everyyear for the past seven years .

A lthough to me I look the samecompared to every other dayMaybe because I m invis ibleor at le ast that s the way I fee lI wont hide behind makeuppoofy dr esses, or mask s. Peopletend to take every opportuni tyto t ry and be someone e l se , butI l l a l ways be averag e Lizzy.

I l l a lways be myse l f . . .


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Indie Affair Page 9

The drear y n ight sky hangs overhead,s leepless so ld iers bat t le pa in for res t .

Covered in defeat of the day,they need res t for the coming dawn;

new day, more bloodshed.No tr iumph for the t i red so ld ier -

he b leeds h imse l f to s leep,

he s tares into the n ight .

Ly ing amongst those he ca l l s brother ,he ponders : my brother , my fr iend,

words that hold power. In the end,wi l l you be there to take the b lunt of a sword.

When you witness madness in the dark ,wi l l you cower and turn away or

wi l l you s tand at my s ide to g reet the coming day?Greet our end in a l l the b loodshed.

He ponders as h e s tares a t the s tars , they g low.As i f to look at h im and say, Fear not my humble so ld ier,

for the coming dawn. He s ighs, they speak,Face your fate with what you are,

for what you are i s more than th is . . .

The t i red so ld ier beg ins to tear, s tar ing a t the tw ink le ofnight .

He fa l l s into endless s leep choking on the d is tas te of h iswounds.

A s ing le tear ro l l s off h is cheek as he breathes a f ina l breath .St i l l . . . . . .ponder ing , s t i l l looking , the n ight sky passes h is soulto s leep.

Night Skies

By HellionSaint

hellionsaint

Bio: Ive been writing for more thanhalf my life and gave me a voicewhen I could not speak. Becomingmy comfort on sleepless nights,soothing the demons encroachedupon my soul and taught mewho I am by helping to find mypurpose. I was born to write and

surpass even the title, poet.


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J ewel sat st ar ing o ut the win dow. She ne verexpected the apoca lypse to look l iketh is ; she expected the burning , co l lapsed

bui ld ings and people running around l ikechickens wi th the i r heads cut off and a l lthe screaming but not a l iens .

There was a noise behind her making herf l inch. What are you doing? Didnt youhear me ca l l ing you? Her tw in brother Jef fsa id making her b lush f rom embarrassment .Sorry, no I didnt hear you. How couldI wi th a l l of that going on outs ide? Sherepl ied gestur ing towards the outs ide wor ldbehind the window. Whatever , we have

to get going , there was a B ioship spottedcoming this way.

He handed her a spec ia l ly made gun thatwas made to para lyze instead of k i l l ingbecause up to th is point a l i ens were notthe ones that were host i le . Sadly , the warzone that was once cal led New York wascreated by humans. Humans were the f irstones to a t tack by bombing and shoot ing a tthe f ly ing saucers , a t the t ime they d idn trea l ize they were only damaging the i r ownland. So Jeff and his nerdy f r iends createdguns that only s tunned the v ic t ims .

They rea l ly only wanted to escape, not tohurt anyone.

Grab your toothbrush and let s go savethe world, he said throwing her a smile .Grabbing her backpack off the d i r ty f loorshe hur r ied beh ind him out t he door. Weret ry ing to save the wor ld now? I thought wewere just t r y ing to sur v ive in i t . She sa idto the back of h is head. Wel l we re sav ingour own l i t t l e wor lds by get t ing out of NewYo rk .

None of the i r smal l group was rea l ly readyto leave the temporary safety of the house

yet but they had no choice . They had to runi f they wanted to surv ive .Their once large g roup was now just f ivepeople . Most of the others e i ther le f t torun wi th the i r fami l ies or got caught in thecrossf i re . Jef f was the only fami ly Jewel hadlef t and she would do whatever i t took tohold on to that . Andy, Luke and Cam weremost ly s t rag g lers that became fr iends .

Everyone he ld the i r guns in f ront of themready to shoot anyone or anything thatcrossed them. They learned quick ly that thepeople that were lef t in the i r wor ld were nolonger humane.

Fine s Ter rae(Ends of Earth) By Ashley Tomlinson


14/31

They no longer looked af ter each other,now everyone was out for themselves.Ki l l ing for food and scavenging f rom thedead bodies that l i t tered the grounds theywalked on.

The only reason Andy, Luke and Camwere wi th the twins was because they weredesperate . Jef f saved Andy from get t ingshot by a man that was t ry ing to s tea l h i sfood. Luke and Cam are cous ins and theyboth saved Jewel f rom a group of rowdyteenagers . They were most ly af ter herweapons and food but who knows whate l se they would have taken i f they caughther .

Ready? Luke ca l led out before f l ing ingopen the door , not g iv ing anyone a chanceto respond. The res t of the group wai tedunt i l Luke gave the s igna l that everyth ingwas c lear. I t fe l t l ike an eterni ty before hewaved them out .

Jewel was the las t to ex i t the bui ld ing. Hereyes grew wide a t the very s ight of what thewor ld has come to. Where i s ever yone?Andy asked. I dont l ike th is s i lence,Cam sa id in her squeaky voice . The s t reet

that was just f i l l ed wi th people runningand screaming was now completely empty.Everyth ing seemed eer i ly s i l ent .

Let s jus t keep moving , Jef f sa id reachingout and pul l ing Jewel behind him. Dontleave my s ide, he commanded ma king herrol l her e yes. They made t heir way down thestreet s lowly. Cam and Jewel were crush edin the middle wi th a l l the guys surroundingthem. There was a loud humming soundfrom above them making them al l jerk.

The a i r around them star ted to g low anddust s tar ted swir l ing l ike a mini tornado.Run! Jef f ye l led , as he g rabbed Jewelshand and pul led her out of the l ight . Therewas so much dust in her eyes she couldntrea l ly see anything . There was a p ierc ingfemale scream behind her and she t r ied toturn towards i t but Jef f s topped her . Sheknew i t was Cam and knew they had to dosomething. We cant save her now. Jeffsaid, pul l ing Jewel down a deserted al ley .Luke and Andy were c lose behind themeach s topping to catch the i r breaths .

What happe ned to her? Jewel asked, runningto peak around the corner f rom where theycame. It looke d l ike the Bioship to ok her ,Luke sa id wiping a tear f rom his eye . Camwas the only fami ly he had lef t and she wasjust taken r ight in f ront of h im. I d idn t

th ink the a l iens were dang erous . Andy sa idpress ing a but ton on his gun making i t humto l i fe .

We dont know that they are dangerous.Jewel sa id watching the Bioship scan thesurrounding area . What are you ta lk ingabout? They just took my cousin, shes a l lthe fami ly I have lef t . Of course they redangerous.

You dont know that . Jewel said fa cing he rgroup for the f i r s t t ime. Jef f s tepped aroundher and gent ly pushed her fur ther into thea l ley and away f rom the corner . What areyou say ing , Jewel? Jef f asked us ing h is gunto look around the corner Jewel was just a t .I m tr ying to say, we dont know if theyredangerous. Cam could st i l l be a l ive.Yeah, and how would we f ind that out?Luke scoffed, k ick ing a rock wi th h is shoe .I dont know bu t you ca nt just assume shesdead.

What i f they re exper iment ing on her?Andy shr ieked before he c leared h is throatrepeatedly and blushed. Oh come on, don tte l l me you re one of those people thatactua l ly be l ieves they go around probingpeople. Jewel rol led her eyes whi le sheadjusted the s t rap on her backpack beforetak ing i t off to re lax her shoulders.

Enough, Jewel none of us know what theydo. Why are you always defen ding them ? Do

you know something we don t? Jef f askednot looking at her or anyone e l se becausehe was s t i l l watching the B ioship aroundthe corner . Then the B ioship seemed todisapp ear befor e his eyes. It s a wel l -knownfact that the B ioships can te leport f romplace to p lace a t near l ight speeds . Meaningthey could be anywhere a t anyt ime.

Al l I know is they have never harmedhumans before , Jewel sa id hold ing her armsout wide. You dont know that for surethough. Al l forms of communicat ion havebeen down for at least two months.



15/31

hyperashley

Bio: Im Ashley, readingand writing are my biggestpassions in life. I spend mostof my days curled up on mycouch with a good book in myhands and my dachshund atmy feet. I am working hard onwriting my first novel whilealso reviewing books for myblog. I also dabble in writingshort stories in my free time.

Please visitwww.hyperashley.com

to know the rest of the story.

They could have s tar ted k i l l ing by now. Jef f sa idg lar ing a t her . Jeff , look out ! Luke screamed as a l lthree of the remaining members of the group a imedthe i r guns upward. Jef f turned his head around tosee the Bioship moving over him.

Andy looked behind them to see the end of the a l leylooking back at h im. I t s a dead end back there man,were t rapped here.

What do we do? Jewel cr ied out . The l ight beameddown covering Jeff s body, she could see the fe ar

in h is eyes . Get her out of here , he screamed ashis body s tar ted to l i f t off the ground. No! Jewelscreamed as she p lunged herse l f forward knockingJeff as ide and out of the l ight .


-To be continued-

kayssiecaprice

Bio: In love with words andsmiling. Purely & proudly

Zimbabwean

www.athousandl ightyears .wordpress.com

By Kayssie Caprice

I fe l t your c laws gr ip my hear t ,That pa infu l p leasure of l iv ing on the edge.

Like needles f lowing in my bloodAnd poking my f lesh a t ever y end .

See youve f in i shed the s tar t , passed the middle ,now youre start ing the end.

Youve conjured these sp i r i tua l bodiesHaunted my pers i s t ing cor porea l ske le tons .

These demonic ange ls enchant ing my hear t ,Tu rning water into wine into g rease.

Tr ue o l ives d isguised as g rapes.Even my breath f roze mid-a i r a t the thought


16/31


I d be l ieve in forever , i fi t weren t for the reaper .Grim and unyie lding,

he l l k idnap your soul .

A s leek bony bul ly, he l lentomb a l l your wisdom,Divine inter vent ion wi l l

buy i t r ight back.

When death shadowsforward, we harken ourAngles, our souls in

denia l , and our bodiesfa l l s i lent .

Bled of our s in , whatbecomes of us, then?

Are we put in a drawer,or ga in sweet ass

rev iva l?

j.hunley_rambles

Bio: John Hunley, 48, a truckdriver from Central Ohio. Tooka 25-year rest from writing,and picked it back up 4 yearsago to skim off a little of the

crazy before it boiled over.

REAPER

By JH


17/31

ink_stained_diaries

mypoeticsoulny

Bio: My name is AlishaPapneja and I am a finalyea r und erg rad uat e stude ntpursuing bachelors ofhonours in English from DelhiUniversity. Writing what Ifeel seems the best thing Ican during the whole day andthats why I love it so much!

#theetherealframe

Bio: Ive been writing since Iwas 14 only to take a hiatusdue to my day job and family.Ive resumed writing poetryin 2012 and it has become an

absolute passion.


H e i s the one who fears the s t reaks of sun, theshimmer ing g lares enough to eat into h im,mut i la t ing h is f lesh and bones . He i s the creaturebegotten for the n ight , pandicula t ing h is l imbs andcoming to l i fe , sn i f f ing the f ragrance of a l l l iv ingbeings , rag ing vehement ly l ike the sc int i l l a t ing f lare ,h is unabated b lood th i rs t maddens h im.

Camouf laged by the dark , he searches for a prey ,wi th a s in is ter g r in and eyes tw inkl ing in the dazz l ingmoonl ight , wait ing for an ent i ty to pass by, wait ingto pounce on i t . He i s a charmer , tempt ing you toint imacy , d igg ing into your ju icy pulp l ike supplecor ium wi th h is aculeate fangs , in ject ing h is venomdeep wi th in you, intoxicat ing your mind, inv igorat ing

your f rame, making you one of h is k ind.

He i s a f iend, v ic ious , and unbr id led , a t ta in ing g lorywi th the n ightfa l l , becoming the u lt imate sovere ignat the twi l ight .

By Alisha Papneja

By MPS

Bones are ra t t l ing in the wind

As the leaves beg in to s ing

Monsters peek behind each smi le

As they h ide in the i r denia l

Gruesome innards a l l sp i l l out

As she knee ls and s tar ts to shout

Pray ing , begg ing for sa lvat ion

As her t ra in now leaves the s ta t ion

Death has come for us todayThere i s nothing we can say

As you s tare a t h im in awe

He begins h is scythe to draw

You imagined him g rotesque

Yes he s a lmost s ta tuesque

Handsome in a d i f ferent way

For your demons he sha l l s lay

Frees your f rom unending pa in

As you board another tra in

Last Train


18/31

poetry_goddess88

Bio: Poetry gave me a voicewhen I was too shy to expressmyself around others. Ivebeen writing since I couldbury myself in the adventureof reading. As a mother ofthree, a full time teacher,with a supportive and loving

husband, I feel that the writtenword and creative expression

feeds the soul.

w w w . w a t t p a d . c o m / u s e r /CDougherty83


A t ra i torous thought creepsinto my mind as I see youwal tz into the room with a l lthe grace of a ba l ler ina oncoca ine . That f lac id smi le dr ipsof sarcasm and yet everyone

c lusters around you and l icksup the d rops you drip.

I cr inge to th ink I m bloodre la ted to you. I dream, luc iddreams, of a var ie ty of ways inwhich I can end my tor ment ofyou on this e arth. My own s milegrows genuine as my thoughtsseep into every synapse of datawith in my imaginat ion. Yo uapproach, your ever presentsycophants latched onto yourteat , and my skin crawls whenyou lean in for a Frenchmanskiss.

Hel lo s ister , fa l ls from yourl ips .

Hel lo Natasha, I swal low mybi le and reca l l soc ia l norms,you look res ted .

My interna l d ia logue betraysmy sincer i ty , g ir ls l ike us knowhow to cut with words, l ick th eblood, and smi le in the face ofan ene my.

Mother would be so da mn proud.

Baby s ist er , dont pout , youvedone beau t iful ly in my absen ce,Natasha beams as she s l ings her

Cart ier watch onto my arm andwraps me l ike a boa constr ic tor.

Yes Natas ha, one must r ise tothe cha l lenge and shine . Aftera l l , th i s bus iness has no t imeto rest big s ister , I say, and asmile bl eeds fr om my words.

Natasha doesnt miss a thingand she almost chokes on herdrink, but a las she wont shedher mask in pu bl ic . That wouldbe too j uveni le .

She laughs i t off w i th a breathywhisper, drags her na i l s a touchtoo rough on my inner wrist asshe let s go. Others are vyingfor her a t tent ion, and I am nolonger interest ing. I swal lowmy scotch in one long d rag, andbreathe. Mommy always saidto breathe when you escape avenomous c lutch and l ive.

Mommy loved me, and Nat ashawi l l never forg ive me for i t .

I co l lect my coat and purse f romthe coat gir l , and wonder howclose my l i fe came to being so

uncomp licate d. But no, mommyloved me. Now Im trying toswim with the sharks in thisputr id bus iness and my big s i s teri s the b iggest shark of them a l l

I f only I d idn t smel l l ike b loodMommy never k new I would b ea t ra i tor .

A

Trai torous

Thought(A short story)

by C. Dougherty-Bernal


19/31


Poetry gave me a voice when Iwas too shy to express myselfaround others. Ive been writingsince I could bury myself inthe adventure of reading. Asa mother of three, a full timeteacher, with a supportiveand loving husband, I feel thatthe written word and creative

expression feeds the soul.

w w w . w a t t p a d . c o m / u s e r /CDougherty83

A Few Enticing Words To

Stimulate Contemplation:

Imbroglio: An altercation

or complicated situation.

Languor: Listlessness,

inactivity.

Chatoyant: Like a cats eye.

Ephemeral: Short-lived.


20/31


kennyjorgenson

Bio: Rugby player/coachI live, work and play in Toronto,

Canada.

After the suns descent that autumn daya t n ight the monsters come out to p lay ghosts and ghouls , o ld hags and crones

wi th he l lhounds howls and demons moans

Al l heed the Jack-O-Lanterns ca l lthey scut t le , s l i ther , creep and crawl

from foet id swamps and su l furous hauntsto sat i s fy the i r w icked wants

Thei r best ia l cr ue l ty pon disp lay

to terror ize the i r l iv ing prey Al l Hal lows Eve, one n ight to fearthey ru le the wi tching hour each year

Good people a l l cower ing in the i r bedsbehind shut tered doors to keep the i r heads

whi le outs ide demons rage and romp at wi l lseek ing out f resh b lood to sp i l l

However , as the seas of t ime have sauntered pastchange , once s low, now transpi res fas t

the sca les have t ipped, the i r n ight s now lost

a new darkness r i sen , a t the monster s cost

Where once they used the shadowed g loomto havoc-wreak and ra in down doomthe tor turers have become terr i f ied

dark corners now the i r p lace to h ide

The ev i l they made man once faceis now nothing more than commonplace

sad tes tament to our mad descentto our modern age of need less torment

Once horr ib ly feared as they crue l ly p layedthis netherwor ld now shr inks afra idand so they s l i ther , crawl and creep

back home to suffer the n ightmares in the i r s leep

Even wi th the i r death ly pa l l of graceexis ts t rue dangers too great to face

for the rea l monsters now are you and mesavagery comes not f rom them, but we

The Night The Monster s

Come Ou t To Play

by K.J.J.


21/31


speakinginreflections

Bio: A traveler, a writer, beerconsumer, baseball cardcollecting, music loving, cinemaaddict with a predilection forpin-ups and staying up to seethe sun rise. A musical nomadwho has a fondness for foreignchanteuses, and hard drivingdesert rock...with a mix of oldschool hip hop and hyper ska.

I host a radio show onKAOS 89.3 FM from Olympia,Washington. Im a single dadraising a 9-year-old daughter in

this world. Just writing wordsand living inside the moments.

The par ty masks put on to h ide our da i ly maskDress ing to accords , the t r icks to be p layed

Disguise of our choice , the t reats to be takenWa lk ing a long s ide ghouls and pr incessesSold iers and zombies , l aughing and play ingChi ldren wi th parents , f r iends wi th f r iends

The fes t ive natureon Al l Hal lows Eve

A s ly look f rom SamhainWith pumpkins smi l ing the ir g r ins

Dressed to d isguiseTr eats or Tr icks

on Al l H al lows Eve.

With the autumn leaves fa l l ing on fresh g roundLighted candles for the souls gone past

Just a fool s remembranceon Al l Hal lows Eve

by Frank Cardoza

by C. Dougherty-Bernal

The raven b lue ink of the n ight

can hold unfathomable f r ight .

But l i t t le do the ange ls know

that a nightmare can reap and sow.

It can reap the reward of pa in

come the s torm with the ra in .

In the shadows of human fear

the urchin demons ye l l and cheer

They smi le at our demise

With hope less sp ir i t on the r i se

Dont le t the darkness of a l l s in

don t le t the monstrous dev i l win

Fear not the monsters out of you

fear the l ies that bury the t rue

Shadows only mask the l ight of hope

r ise and re ign o win , don t mope

You and I can s t i l l turn into the sunquick , be safe , eyes a le r t and run.

devonwestauthor

Bio: Poetry gave me a voicewhen I was too shy to expressmyself around others. Ivebeen writing since I could burymyself in the adventure ofreading. As a mother of three,a full time teacher, with asupportive and loving husband,

I feel that the written wordand creative expression feedsthe soul.

Find me on Wattpad:@CDougherty83

www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B01AIV9OSO?ref=aw_sitb_

digital-text


22/31

open_journal

Bio: KLP, Kristi Leigh Phillips.

Small town mother of threebeauties with a passion forcreative writing. For me thereis nothing more intimate orhaunting, the way memoriesbecome no more than words

on withered pages.


Wa lk wi th me throughthese hal lways never mindthe b lood on the wal l s . . .Careful as to where you

step, loose f loorboards arethe perfect p lace to h ideaway secrets from prying

eyes.

Yes, the l i t t l e g i r l cr y ing i sin great pa in f rom a past

that s t i l l l ingers .

The g oosebumps upon yourneck are not the wind atal l , very much ghouls that

crawl .

Tr ead l ight ly near theshadows they wi l l t ry to

stea l your soul .That door i s locked for areason, opening i t would

not be wise a t a l l .

One las t look outs ide thesewindows?

I know the fog is thicklove, but cherish your last

dawn.

We re near ing the room ofmirrors dear , are you sureyou want to venture on?

Ah, here we are. . .Ye s, they are a l l shat te

red but the image remainsthe same.

That you in the mir ror hasmy soul less eyes ,

because we are onein the same,

Now, I l l c lose my jour nalunt i l next wr i te

t rapping the ghost ins idewhere my haunts res ide.

Haunted Journal

By KLP


23/31


laurinawrites

Bio: New poet withconcentration in cinematicand modernism. Aspiring writerin fiction and short stories inmysteries and science fiction..

w w w . w a t t p a d . c o m / u s e r /LaurinaWrites

Blessed bewe are

the Salem sistersfrom the fa i res t

land and sea ,spe l l s in our ve ins ,honor ing the sunand moon atop,

in char iots we r i se

above the seasunleash the s torm

and sp ir i tsf rom the ground be low

we t read throughyour canopied dreamsblowing c louds of fear

in your s leep.

Deep in the forestWhere sunl ight never p ierces

I le f t you to s leep

by Laurina Writes

petitspoemes

Bio: Mallory Rowe is a poetfrom Alabama. She is currentlyworking on her second book ofhaiku. Her work centers aroundspirituality, the cosmos, and

philosophy.

By LM.R.

Blessed Be


24/31


darlenealways69

Bio: Darlene Burns bornand raised in Los Angeles,California. She attendedL.A.Valley College to studyOceanography, but realizedher true passion lied in writing.Mother of three and currentlyresides with fianc workingon her next novel due out in

the Spring of 2016.

I come from a family oftalented women. So eventhough I put off my dreamsof writing for my children, Ichallenged myself to becomeone of those women that I so

admire.

My true passion is readingand researching all elementsregarding the supernatural. Ifell in love with the old moviesfeaturing Vincent Price and

Bela Lugosi.

darlenevb-twitter handle

www.dburnsauthor.com

12

The wal l s are covered wi th g reen moss nowI can s t i l l hear f looding ins ide my ears

As I walk down the ha l lNo one wi l l come ins ide

No one v is i t sI scratch the wal l s. I r un my f ingers over the

markings .My bored se l f -express ion.

I ease near the window and peak through the tornlace curta ins .

I see the others

HappyLaughingRunning

Li t t le g obl ins , ghouls , ghosts , made up costumes .Bags Ful l .

I s tare b lankly Longing.

Wa i t ing for th is n ight to end. Hoping I dont haveto protect my home.

Then, there s the knock. . .The knob turns

Here I go . . .

The wal l s b leed. The chandel ier sways. The dustswir l s and knocks over the lamps on the table . I

appear . Arms ra i sed . I vanish .The k ids r un in the n ight ter r i f ied .

I ve done my duty I wander back . St i l l ponder ing a imless ly

Reca l l ing my las t momentsI was twelve when I drowned in the pool

In the backyardI s tare out the window looking down in themoonless n ight

A hundred years ag oForever young

Forever searchingForever haunt ing

by Darlene Burns


25/31


26/31


27/31


notknownauthor

Bio: Born and raised onVancouver Island, I work asa paramedic. In most of mywriting I try to use imagerythat convey feelings onexperiences which weighheavier on the dark/ twistedside of things or of love/ lostlove. My favourite poets arePoe and Pablo Neruda whichmay explain the correlation to

dark love in my writing.

It s been three weeks s ince h is s i s ter d ied

Two days s ince he saw her last

He turned on the bathroom l ight

Her ref lec t ion was in the g lass

Last n ight he thought he fe l t a draf t so he arose out

o f b ed

The wind b lew through the open window,

Moaning l ike the dead

He shut the window forcibly against the chi l ly

breeze

When he turned around she was there aga in

Crawl ing on her knees

Her legs were twisted, broken, bent her yes rol led

back ins ide

Her jaw looked shat tered as she gaped i t open

Releas ing a sorrowful c ry

The boy s tood frozen as a rock but didnt make a

s ing le sound

Not even as she grabbed h is fee t and pul led h im to

the ground

With a whimper he s lowly went into the g reat

unknown

She c lenched her decayed f ingers a round his neck

Now ne i ther a re a lone

The next mor ning is when they found him

St i l l l y ing upon the f loor

With c law marks in h is back and e tched the message

NEVERMORE

by N. K.

Nevermore


28/31


trvp3zoid

thefloeticsoul

Bio: My name is Adam Lain,I did not consider myself anartist until recently whenI discovered a loving andsupportive community ofwriters on Instagram. Theyvehelped me rediscover my lovefor the beauty of poetry, andencouraged me to continue

writing music and prose.

Bio: Dena aka The Floetic Soulis a poet who spends her daysworking as a criminal lawparalegal. Her first book, TheFloetic Soul will be releasedNovember 2015. She lives withher husband and five children

in North Carolina.

In b i t te r sanctuary of the moon fu l lin re t icent sp i te ,

as evening pr imroseinto fragrance

of s i lhouetted sk ies b loom:whi le in s lumber s depr ivat ion

si lent lays ca l low beauty ,compromised wi th in the rapture of the hor izons

darkness seduct ive,before love lorn stars fa l l beneath

morning s he lp less sun;in l i gh t of hopefu l

dreams defianceI sha l l re fuse to wake.

I tu rned mysel f ins ide outExposed myse l f to the wor ld

In hopes that you would t ru ly seeWho I rea l ly was

The vul tures p icked at my ins idesTo sat i s fy the i r hunger

Wa lk ing by as I m picked apar tYou turn a b l ind eye to my suffer ing

Now here I l ikeMy t ruth ravaged l ike road k i l l

By l i fe s carnivoresYo u f ina l ly not ice me

I t ry to gather up what s l e f tTr y to make i t beaut i fu l ag a in

Yo u cant see past the devastat ionCant see the sacr i f ice made

For your a t tent ionPronouncing me ugly

You walk away f rom me in d isgustLeaving me to die

Exposed

by Adam Lain

by The Floetic SoulExposed


29/31


kris_johnston_author

Bio: Kris Johnston (aka,Leeloo Deschain), is a singlemother of 6 amazing people.When she isnt raising totallycool humans, she is eithersitting at her laptop or on herphone, creating stories andpoetry. She is a firm believerin empowering her fellow

woman!

by Kristy Johnson

by Kristy Johnson

His heated gaze ,I keep for days.

I t s tays wi th in me, beneath my sk in .I t warms me so ,

Of course he knows,I ant ic ipate al l of h is de l ic ious s in .

His touch, h is gr ip ,His breath on my l ip,

Fi res up a l l my ner ves every s ing le t ime .But i t s his eyes

That cause my s ighsAnd the wicked look in them that says,

Youre mine.

We lcome to the Freak Show, dar l ing ,So n ice of you to come.

We ve lots o f thr i l ls, and even chi l l s,Our enter ta inment i s qui te fun!

You wi l l be asked to leave a tokenOr donat ion at the door ,

Because nothing comes for f ree , my fr iends ,And sure ly you l l want more.

The s ights you l l see are so extreme

You may doubt your eyes and ears.But once you g ive in , your soul w i l l s t re tch th in ,

And you l l soon know the meaning of fear.die

Exposed


30/31

Credit For Ima ges Belongs To:

Unless o th erwise s ta t ed th e images used in th i s magaz inewer e r ep o s t ed f r om th e f o l l ow in g s i t e s .

http ://crowdsourc ingweek.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Pens-and-penci l s -1119. jpg

ht tp ://thedabbler .co .uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/block2. jpg

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mCVZVlUc7oEkyR0CPML3A=h900

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wi th-fog-42225688 . jpg

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http://www.featurepics .com/FI/Thumb300/20100603/Pret ty-Thinking-Mult ie thnic-

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https://www.google.com/search?s i te=imghp&tbm=isch&q=woman%20


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Issue 1 February-FINAL

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Transcript of Issue 1 February-FINAL