Beautifully penned, Brenda. Love the depth and layers in this write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

I like how the poem casts Caligula -a figure known for cruelty -into a haunting, reflective presence. I feel intrigued and a little unsettled: his brutal history seeps through with a mild, almost playful sadism, yet the poem channels that darkness into a tender, romantic meditation on desire, resilience, and the quiet power of love. Beautiful.

Passionately penned, Ghosteen. Incredible write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Thank you D

Effective personal storytelling through historical abstractions. Your words are both sharp and tender. Always glad to see you posting here.

Cleverly penned, Ghosteen. Great write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

I enjoyed the beginning trickles of affection.
Then the dam broke at the confession!
I grinned the whole time:)

There’s a beautiful tension here –between ruin and tenderness, poetry and flesh. It’s as if love is both the wreck and the rebuilding, the prayer and the profanity. “Poetry passport will only travel me so far” might be one of the truest lines I’ve read about desire’s limits. Beautifully penned, Rob!

Hello Rob,

​This has been a fun and truly rewarding collaboration. When I first read your poem, those lines – “I still curate her mascara upon my pillow, The siren, bride to desire, / Will simply sing” -immediately stood out to me. I felt your voice was reflective, a curator of memory waiting for a shift.

The Siren is that shift!  I focused on making her the immediate, visceral answer to your poem. You introduced the idea of the wave and the summons, and I wanted my poem to embody the full force and consequence of invoking an elemental creature of the sea. It was about taking your reflection and turning it into a moment of pure, overwhelming action.

​Thank you so much for the prompt; I genuinely enjoyed writing this with you. I really love this kind of improv and following an established energy.

​On a completely different note: If you liked “The Siren” and want to try another style, I can also do rap! I used to be in a gamer group where the young people would try to battle rap me in impromptus, and I’d completely destroy them. Hahaha. Just a thought for a future experiment!
​I enjoyed this so much. I hope you did too.
​RomaJ

My pleasure. You are an absolute diamond and please promise me this, never ever stop shining.

A rap battle? My sweet Lord, I’m just an indie man at heart. Challenge accepted, but you will have to give me a wee bit of time. I will need the advice of my friends. Lol.

That is one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me -thank you! I promise to keep shining as long as you promise to keep writing.

​Haha, the rap battle reference is a funny story! I used to hang out in a gamer community where the young folks often started lyrical battles. I ended up joining in just for fun -I love rhyme and could go all day! It made for some great memories. Take all the time you need. I fully respect a rap battle that requires a council of advisors. Thank you for this fun collaboration.

Mary Magdalene has always felt to me like Jesus, most loyal follower. Even if she wasn’t at the Last Supper, I can imagine her being the one who set the table and prepared the meal. She feels like an everywoman – someone who carries the judgment and misunderstanding that so many women have faced, whether for past mistakes, perceived flaws, or simply for not fitting society’s expectations.

I don’t believe she was a prostitute. I think she was a strong, capable woman who may have simply been ahead of her time. People judged her and labeled her unfairly, but Jesus saw her for who she truly was – a good and faithful person. And really, that’s what all of us should strive to be. Great write, j

Powerful work, my friend.

Thank you, Thomas.
j.

Powerfully penned, Jacob. Not to mention she penned a gospel that was left out of the Bible, of course it was. A lot of sexist men in power, who never wanted women to be treated equally. Just my opinion. lol. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Well said, my friend. How can we possibly know those buried under thousands of years of dust, when we do not know those who live among us, friends we see and hear, and touch, who share our very houses, not even those who stare blankly back from mirrors?

What an enigmatic poem for an enigmatic figure. Perhaps it shall unravel the collective misunderstanding of the centuries and provide a new light for her.