The Cat Has Nothing To do With It

By Phen Weston and Willow Stancombe 10th July 2016 "Meow, went the cat," Silence filled the empty Spaces between bone walls, Subtle confusion engaged The senses when placed On the sacred spot, I look at you, elegance Cosmically claims the pages Of the world we write, "The cat has nothing To do with it" softly... Continue Reading →

The Torment of Salmoneus

*By Rebecca Shapland and Phen Weston* Burning cold water licks his toes And the winds tug and pull at his clothes, Whisper with woe it’s too late it’s too late But he stands fast as an anchor, he watches and waits. The dawn squalls prick his thrifting heart Frozen to murmers, the sudden depart, Drives... Continue Reading →

Translating Futures Without Clouds

By Phen Weston and Willow Stancombe A cacophony of frogs detonates The peaceful sleepy mood Of a perfect loving embrace, It does not ruin, Only adds a voice To life's rich stance and trace, "Let's write a book" you say "I have the words right here" Handing me a master piece Of ancient Chinese lore,... Continue Reading →

Ludic Convulsions

When your world falls apart, and all that’s left for you are selfies, and photos of your food my memories will be imprinted in wood stone, and the electrified participants coming together in prophecies strung to the spinning nebulae, hypoxia starving along, remarks published to social walls – the fake ones that call the world... Continue Reading →

Frosted Tribulations (with Murrsma)

Platitudes came disguised, Wrapped neatly up In glittered trappings, A not so subtle attempt At repurposing stale fare. It came with the season, Regressed to a state of fruition, In trappings blackened In the harsh blast of winter, Lovers of frozen care. Fear wore a cloak of pride, Frosted panes of doubt, Concealing jagged cracks... Continue Reading →

Constructed Individuality (With Christopher Rupley)

Under the weight of a thousand withering suns blistering before they break, desperately vying to become the crepuscular black holes we foresaw, bringing us shallow matter filled with elements, and filthy mortal quarks we built them upon, Immortality draped herself in whore’s regard, playing games of republic draws against democratic lows, giving us gimmicks dressed... Continue Reading →


If I could count the infinity of you I'd place each second within your soul, and lay my breath between the stars that form your heart and whole. Was it privilege to love you? Painted hues of viridescent lives to those lost seconds when we saw the world begin again in strides. Lived in promises... Continue Reading →

Obtunded Rebirth (With Christopher Rupley)

I awoke from the coma of a culture on emotional furlough – wrenched from my deep slumber and the oneiric pleasures wholeheartedly enlisting the services of my subconscious, with its deep swinging valleys, and lilly-lipped hillsides. I awoke from the coma of a culture dashed against cliffs carved with self-indulging narcosis between the flashing skies.... Continue Reading →

Shakespeare’s Nightmare

Shimmer with stillness beneath the moon, recondite dwam connects surreal collision, the genesis of dawn on reflective seance, gathering in circumstance, hopeful,    For a congealed reality to either thaw or further thicken the problems of first world dramaturgy in this laughable, yet course production, strewn across big rocks…    By Christopher Rupley and Phen... Continue Reading →

Rivers of Reformation

By Christopher Rupley and Phen Weston The tides inside remind me of a time when we didn’t hide behind our pride Transparency mimicked those before me by lost rivers of reformation Though similar inside, we hide in the crevice of our time, ravished we cry Conception haunts those lonely places as we wait for one... Continue Reading →

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