Art I adore by people I adore!
Artists featured: Anna Pickard, Aspen Clark, Cecilia Klimon, Jeanne Billings, Kathryn Super, Madeline Renshaw, Riley Vallot
Is an apple
Still an apple
When it’s covered all
When I tell you
I am hurting
Do you think of me
– Madeline Renshaw, Stickers, September 20th, 2022
You are already
At the meeting place
I never made it. I never
Make it anywhere
And the last train
Just left for the evening
And of course,
I am not on it
I am going home
This is over
I am dead in the attic
I wanted it to be you
But it isn’t you.
It isn’t you.
I am going home
This is over
-Madeline Renshaw, Never Leaving Town, July 13th, 2022
I watch myself rot, I let myself down
If God loved me, he’d have told me by now.
-Madeline Renshaw, Living Thing, July 18th, 2022
You cut yourself open
And bled out on the tile
To see if our reds were the same.
They were. I couldn’t tell you,
But they were.
-Madeline Renshaw, Unrequited, June 16th, 2022
On your shelf are all my thoughts
In pickle jars, they’re tightly locked
At night, they bump against the lids
And I think, we would have been good friends as kids.
I watch the old hands of a clock
And think of all the things I’m not
The seconds snap by, like a twig
And I think; we would have been good friends as kids
So, catch me in a different time
Or, catch me in a different life
Where I still have all of my ribs
I don’t really know myself
Could I take a look at your shelf?
Oh, what’s that banging on the lids?
Oh, don’t you think that we would have been good friends as kids?
– Madeline Renshaw, Pickle Jars
There are blades of grass
And beads of salt water
Stuck to your skin
And I am well aware,
The Earth belongs
To no one.
But against all logic
If they were to ask,
I’d tell our first visitors
That the trees breathe.
That the sun burns, and
The moon pulls the tides
That the starlight reaches us
And the waves crash
Against the rocky shores
All for you.
– Madeline Renshaw
Now that I am twenty two
My day starts with a tick
And another tick, and another tick, and so on
With a rope, and a little orange flame
And I watch, as it slowly
Eats the rope away
– Madeline Renshaw, Twenty two, February 9th, 2022
I need someone to want me. I need someone to care. I need someone to hug me and always be there. I need someone who’ll laugh. I need someone who’ll cry. I need somewhere who’ll be there and never want to say goodbye. I need someone who’s honest. I need someone who’s strong. I need someone who’s loving and will never treat me wrong. I need someone who’ll love me. I need someone who’ll feel. I need someone who’ll show me that what we have is real. – Jeanne Billings
It is winter
And I fall back on sadness
Like a bed at the end of the day
– Madeline Renshaw, Winter (March 11th, 2022)
I feel a terrible ache
It whispers to me, something is wrong
Something is missing
Something awful is lurking
And I wonder
If that terrible ache
Is just life, from the moment
You first feel it
Until the second before you die
– Madeline Renshaw (January 11th, 2022)
I sought control. I knew the more strings sewn into me, the more directions I could be tugged. So, with scissors, I cut myself loose. And on the very last cut, I fell limp to the floor. I hadn’t known it till then, but I had become just like the marionette. All I can do now is lie here, dead, hoping that someone will string me to life again. – Madeline Renshaw, The Marionette (February 27th, 2022)
There will always be testament to the snake, with his endless piles of discarded skin. So I write for the tiny bones of baby birds, lying on the dirt above the roots of the tree. And for the insect guts smeared on the front window, and the rotting corpse of an angry honeybee, and the snap of the mouse’s neck. For anything that was, and then wasn’t in an instant. For anyone who could, but in their lifetime couldn’t. For every. Lasting proof of their failure, that is also proof of their life. – Madeline Renshaw, For Lost Time (March 16th, 2022)
There is a sound
Gut-wrenching and bloodcurling
Vibrating under the bone of my chest
And never a right moment
To release it
– Madeline Renshaw, Female Insides (January 7th, 2022)
What I’ve loved, has had its life
Torn from its body.
What I’ve cared for, is now
A carcass in the sand.
I am scraping what is left
Of my love, from its bones.
So the vultures can eat my love
From my hand
– Madeline Renshaw, Feeding (March 21st, 2022)
At the end of the world, I met you
And though I felt as though as I had not done enough of anything
— Not spoken enough of words,
Not seen enough of Earth,
Nor understood enough of it —
I had seen you, I had spoken to you
And as the world ends
It will have been enough
To have understood enough of you
To have known you
It will have been worth it
– Madeline Renshaw, At The End of the World (February, 22nd, 2022)
She says, Love is chemical
We are worms of
I say, There is a force
I can feel it
Now, in unison, I do not know why we are here
I do not know where “here” is
I will stay here – since I have people to love
But I will not understand
– Madeline Renshaw, A Conversation with Gabrielle (January 22nd, 2022)