Book Release: Magpie in August & Constant Muses- Kindra M. Austin

Books available by Kindra M. Austin!

Sudden Denouement Literary Collective

Sudden Denouement is proud to spread the word that Kindra M. Austin’s Books Magpie in August & Constant Muses are available for purchase.

Constant Muses, a collection of poems and prose, is available at Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk for Kindle, and in paperback.

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©Kindra M. Austin/Cover Art by Allane Sinclair

Magpie in August (Kindle and paperback) is available at Amazon.com or Amazon.co.uk

Magpie in August, set in the thumb region of Michigan, is the narrative of Magpie Carey, an acerbic young woman on a soul searching journey with her alcoholic mother in tow. This trip in particular is the most difficult Magpie has yet to face, as she must culminate her strength in order to fulfill a promise sorely made, and at last confront those who haunt her—both living, and dead.

©Kindra M. Austin/Cover Art by Allane Sinclair

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Arsonist

Birthed into flames Neonatal neurosis Suckled on psychosis Face streaked black Chocking on ash Back against the wall Tucked into crumbling Child’s memory Tell me lies of Wind in my hair Swinging From a tree Once anchored Now singed As my heart Rotten roots Fight for life Never ends Home sweet home Gorged with grief … Continue reading Arsonist

You Are Your Own Light

S. K. Nicholas

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Brush your hair. Scrub your skin. Pour something to blow the cobwebs away and see stuff that isn’t there. Wish someone wanted you. Wish that they needed you as much as you needed them. Hide away. Avoid others. Cry some tears but don’t let anyone see, because to see you like that makes you weak. But baby you gotta know that like that, no one else comes close. You’re as pure as snow and as dangerous as the written word. So stay that way. Be a wound. Be a kiss. Be the steps you need to take to taste bliss. Wreck havoc. Wreck yourself. Look inwards and know what you are. And then, and then paint pictures and write poems about what it is to be your own enemy and saviour in the same sweet and desperate breath. Cut yourself off. Cut yourself. Open doors and step outside. Step inside…

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Call for Submissions: Telling Our Stories About Invisible Illness Creatively

Brave & Reckless

I was looking at the top of my dresser yesterday and noticed how all my jewelry, cosmetics, brushes and combs have been pushed aside to make room for creams, ointments and lotions to treat pain, muscle cramps and improve sleep. It was a stunning visual image that really brought home for me how much my life has changed over the last year as I learn to live with fibromyalgia.

This image has stayed in my head and has planted a seed about a possible series exploring what it is like to live with an invisible illness told in photos, artwork, poetry, prose, short fiction, essay and other creative mediums.  I think this could be a great opportunity to educate, to entertain, enlighten and express ourselves creatively.  If you are living with an invisible illness or are caring for someone living with an invisible illness I hope you will consider participating…

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The fragile cast 

Candice shreds the truth with heartbreaking beauty ❤

TheFeatheredSleep

Tell me again

To be fearless

Tell me again

To depend on myself

I am yet a child

Still holding her toy by the ear

I am feeling you give me

The hard water slap of advice

Cold on my cheek, formerly warm.

You say

It’ll toughen me up

But I already know

It has wrought the reverse

I am not

A leathered creature of your creation

I am already

Quite changed and mangled.

Whilst you

Suffered and carved expressions from granite

Still you were told, you were a marvel

I was weighted down only with disapprobation

And your searing brand of tough love

Tore me further without support

Gave me greater fears, made me feel alone

In a room full of sound.

You cannot rob a child of their ego before it is formed

Nor nurture one empty handed and pickpocketed

You cannot protect a child by harm

Broken…

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Birds of a Feather, Don’t Always Know What the Hell They’re Doing!

He snuck in through the doggie door in the middle of the day. I didn’t hear him until he smacked, head first, into a window. Poor little thing must be cold, now he is warm, but trapped, and a bit dizzy. He is reluctant to accept any help. Wobbly from the window head bashing, he … Continue reading Birds of a Feather, Don’t Always Know What the Hell They’re Doing!

Unresolved

Great piece by Olde Punk!

RamJet Poetry

unresolved

felicitous, felonious

eminent, impregnable

pregnant with speeches

of impenetrable verisimilitude

I bore easy and adore the sleazy

so let’s get cookin’

fentanyl and vodka piledriver

my everyday lay-away life

I hate the Mondays as much

as your Sundays

and although the Beatles were great

I like the Who better

Who are you?

not me first

me too

or the both of us

hotboxed bath salts

tainted with the blood of a virgin

human trafficking my thoughts

across the void of crime and place

my face, appearing on milk cartons

at home

nobody knows where I’ve gone

too old for the Amber Alert

and too young for the Silver Alert

averted eyes at bedtime with cocaine shivers

and tequila sunrises through the curtains

shots fired into the pain of name spoken

with the coldness only old love knows

nose bleeding the fuchsia minutiae

onto the Kleenex wadded up

and tossed in…

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