Moment of Transformation

Brave and Reckless

You ask me when I knew

that ink flowed through my veins like blood

the moment I understood that truth

simmered in the cauldron of my belly



impatiently waiting

for the moment when I would pick up a pen

and again see it as more than everyday tool

but instead as an extension of my arm

of my soul

that I only needed to listen into my own silence to hear true

the words that have always been inside me

and in a transformative moment

let them finally take flight

across the page

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

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First Look: Machiavelli’s Backyard by David Lohrey

Another brilliant writer to check out.

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I just received my proof copy of David Lohrey’s new book Machiavelli’s Backyard from Sudden Denouement Publishing. It is beautiful book. We will have copies available in the next week. It is a very exciting week for SD. I would like to think those who have purchased Rana Kelly’s book Superstition. We will have the Kindle edition available any day now. We will also be giving away copies of both books. Though we have a lot to learn, we are on our way to becoming a serious publisher of divergent literature. This process has been the culmination of a year’s work. It could not have happened without the love and support of so many wonderful writers/editors.

Jasper Kerkau

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I Ain’t No Damsel

Buh-BAM! Christine dropping some heavy truth.

Blood Into Ink


You have mistaken me

for a damsel in distress

waiting for the handsome prince

to come rescue me

slay the dragon

You seem to be under the mistaken impression

that I have no backbone

that previous violations of my boundaries

as a girl child

has left me spineless


You appear to be implying that I am looking

for the right man to come and save me

from my darkness

lead me lovingly into the light

into normalcy

away from the broken thing

you seem to feel I am

You seem to believe that when I write

about my sexuality

that this actually has something to do with you

Let me set the record straight

I am the fucking dragon

I saved myself long ago

I have a steel reinforced spine

a barbed tongue that roars truth

I have learned to love my darkness

I have learned to love my…

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Penumbra-Olde Punk

This is incredibly moving. ❤

Blood Into Ink


Dedicated to survivors of domestic violence and sexual abuse.  My prayers and sorrow are with you.  You are warriors, all.

set the scene

blue ambiance

with pale ambivalence

a certain moral turpitude

conducted with panache

aghast, but abide

take it all, in stride


I am penumbral


deposed by disposition

ruefully relegated

to tidal gray

or grey

dependent upon your gravitational

mood this day

baleful and ruinous

this love professed

As I suffer harmful hands

bladed words piercing

ears heart soul

reaping ravages depraved

seeping chi slowly bleeds

into my pride

the thorn in my side

is the fang of a snake

mandala of calamity

engraved over the name

my mother gave me

God knows this

is not my fault

but caught I was

unaware, impaired

and weak with trust

cursed by my absence of worry

and seven times seven damned


thinking the shield of faith

could save…

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Quest for Fun


Jim and Kindra’s Quest for Fun


featuring the music of:

Fleetwood Mac*Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers

The Beach Boys*Billy Joel*Rob Zombie*The Cars*Roxette

Red Rider*Dio*Crimson Glory*My Vitriol*Fightstar

Blondie*Neil Diamond*Suicidal Tendencies*Blue Man Group

Led Zeppelin*Pearl Jam*Radiohead*Megadeath*REM

Bruce Springsteen*Johnny Cash*Dexy’s Midnight Runners

Disturbed*Bob Dylan*Creed*David Bowie*Queen*Duran Duran

Electric Light Orchestra*Guns N’ Roses*Madness*Muse

*Red Hot Chili Peppers*The Rolling Stones*Talking Heads


DESTINATION: St. Ignace, Michigan, The Mystery Spot 


2 August, 2017—Wednesday

Jim and I awoke at 7:30 a.m. to be on the road by 9:00. I was so excited, I dressed smart, and made up my face for pictures. Because I’m vain. Our trusty Bonneville (a.k.a Bonnie, a.k.a Silver Bullet) was clean, packed, and gassed up (courtesy of two winning Michigan lottery Lucky 7s scratchies)—totally ready for the 227 mile journey. What had begun as a joke quickly became our Quest for Fun. The Mystery Spot or bust. It was a bust, folks. Traveling north on I-75 at 75 mph fatigued dear Bonnie (the tach was reading 3500+ rpm), and we had no good choice but to exit in Rose City; Bonnie just couldn’t shift properly into overdrive—60 mph was her optimal speed. Not even blaring 80’s metal could keep her stimulated. So, Jim slipped our Silver Bullet some Lucas, and let her cool off while he and I ate lunch at the Rose City Cafe. Jim had a club sammich, and I had a fucking delicious grilled chicken with mmm bacon, lettuce, tomato, onion, and mmm honey mustard on a toasted Kaiser roll. Every bite, I was like, “What the actual fuck? Did this chicken sammich come down from Heaven?” On our way home, taking the backroads, Jim and I laughed about driving two goddamned hours just to eat. Fun fact: it had taken us only two hours to reach Rose City, however we spent four fucking hours getting home. But this setback only fortified our resolve to make it to St. Ignace.

P.S. We came to learn that it wasn’t Bonnie’s transmission that was malfunctioning, just the tachometer. Gee, whiz!

P.P.S. Jim phoned up his daddy upon our arrival home (because we didn’t know at the time that Bonnie’s transmission was fine), and asked to borrow his big-ass Dodge Ram, which would result in an 80 fucking dollar gas bill. Yay, trucks!


3 August, 2017—Thursday

The alarm went off at 7:30 a.m. I hit snooze. Three times. I did not dress smart, I put my hair in a Pebbles bun, and I did not make up my face (too much). Because I don’t give a fuck about what people think of me. I wore black cotton shorts that are too short, a John Lennon t-shirt, and old-ass pair of Guinness flip-flops equipped with a bottle opener. Jim wore the same set of clothes he’d worn the previous day. Classy. We were on the road by 9:15. When we blew past the Rose City exit in record time, I was like, “Girl, bye!”

Northern Michigan is fucking gorgeous, folks. Even when you’re looking at it from the express-way. I saw two fawns walking along the edge of the woods running along I-75. We were going too fast to snap a picture of the cute babies. So just imagine them when you look at this picture I’d snapped through the windshield of Daddy’s big-ass truck.


We stopped for lunch–again. But! This time we’d made it all the way to Mackinaw City. We did not eat at Wienerlicious. I’m just a juvenile who thinks Wienerlicious is a fucking hilarious name for a restaurant. Plus, the giant wiener on the roof is pretty cool.


Jim and I had fish and chips at Cunningham’s. I didn’t take a picture because I was hungry, and enjoying my food. Live in the moment, you know? After we killed our dead, fried fish, we made our way toward the Mighty Mac. I love the Mackinac Bridge. I could drive over that motherfucker, back and forth, all day long and never lose the excitement.




St. Ignace is lovely. I’d like to hit one of the car shows they host. My dad has taken his classic muscle cars up there, and he loves it.



Jim drove through St. Ignace with such purpose, I’d believed he knew where the hell he was going. But when we stopped for more gas, (after accidentally getting back on I-75, and pulling an illegal U-turn via the “Authorized Vehicles Only” access road), he asked me, “So, how do we get to the Mystery Spot?” Thank fuck for smart phones. Six minutes later, we were face to face with The Mystery Spot. It was magnificent. Like an outskirts liquor store. We did the Mystery Spot guided tour. A young girl working her summer vacation escorted us into a slanted house built into a hill, and thrilled us with optical illusions. The experience was just as delightfully lame as I remembered from my childhood. Jim and I had a super rad time at the Mystery Spot. He even freaked out the guide by showing her his super power–hyper extension knees. Truly, Jim is a mystery worthy of St. Ignace. I bought an awesome Mystery Spot long sleeved t-shirt, and Jim did the zip lines. I’m not allowed to do zip lines, or anything else fun because of my replaced hip joint. Boo! Hiss!


Upon leaving the Mystery Spot, Jim discovered the poor state of his daddy’s Ram’s brakes. Thank you, Daddy, for letting us borrow your reliable vehicle. Hahahaha! Love you, Dad!


On our way home, we stopped at Sea Shell City. Can you say Sea Shell City three times fast? Sea Shell City. She Shell Shitty. Damn it! Sea Shell Shitty, She Shell, Shitty, She Shell Shitty! I love She Shell Shitty. Here’s why.



Thank Glob for my hero, Jim. He saved me from these ocean predators. And bought this shell and shark tooth necklace for me.


Jim and Kindra’s Quest for Fun was a success. I can’t wait to see where next summer takes us.

“Gravity” from Rana Kelly’s Book Superstition from Sudden Denouement Publishing

Sudden Denouement Publishing is happy to introduce Rana Kelly’s “Superstition.” Enjoy this excerpt, and head on over to Amazon to purchase your own copy of the book. 🙂

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“Gravity” from Rana Kelly’s Book Superstition from Sudden Denouement Publishing


My Heart is an Island,
Safe away from society and succor
my Soul is the Sand. Tiny crushed pieces
of earth and skeletons.
Time and death and birth,
endless cycles of
creation and destruction
cushion for your bare feet.
Truly loved and known
Only by the Sea
Surrounding me
See, I am not adrift.
My roots run deep
Under Mariana
And pressured waters
That could crush
Skulls like soft bugs,
The weight that I bear
Hides my core.
It takes millions of all kinds of
Tiny and huge things
Before you can see just my sand
There is no patience
In highways, nor aeroplanes,
I’m here with time.
You may live on me, bury your toes,
Burn your skin,
Cool your fever in my shallows,
Laugh your weekends away
But you go home.
And here I am,
Alone. While…

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Blood Into Ink Writing Prompt Challenge-indelible-Aziza/Rene

Check out Aziza Afire!

Brave and Reckless

my heart has
wound down slow these days
like an old wrist watch
skips metaphorical measures
when i think of that night
how i kissed your spittle-flecked lips
between compressions
come back to me
1  –  2  – 3
come back to me
vermilion teardrops drying on your cheek


once you were breath bone cartilage
you would think your ephemeral ghost would be weightless
but i am so heavy with you

weeks after
i found myself guiltily peering thru
your journal pages and sketches
posthumous voyeur of your life’s doodles
the butterfly you drew
symbol of your recovery
swirled and labyrinthine

page in hand i trudged to the tattoo parlor
barely managing a whisper
“over my heart”
your blood into ink onto bone
needles stinging like recriminations

i imagine her wings batting, lifting off
riding my night sighs to find you
returning to me moistened with…

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Blood Into Ink

The strength of Blood Into Ink is the writers who gather here.  Each member is fierce, talented and incredibly respectful and supportive of others living with a history of trauma.  We believe that their stories will move and inspire you


Kindra M. Austin

Where do you live? What do you love about it?

I live in Michigan, U.S.A. born and raised. Michigan is a beautiful landscape, especially upstate Lower Peninsula, and across the Mackinaw Bridge into the Upper Peninsula. Blue lakes, green hills, waterfalls, lighthouses, Sleeping Bear Dunes, the Painted Rocks—we have it all here in Michigan. One of my favorite things about northern Michigan is that the Native American legacy is so respected and celebrated—the Potawatomi, Chippewa, and Menominee tribes, to name but a few.

Tell us about yourself

I am knocking on 39 years of life. I am more confident now than I was in my twenties…

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Meet a Warrior: Introducing Kindra M. Austin


Christine, you’re one of those who pushes me, and I appreciate you beyond words.

Brave and Reckless

A response poem to Davy D’s question What Is Poetry? on the Go Dog Go Cafe

it is a stir

an ache

rising from my core

growing in urgency

pushing to my surface

gasping hungrily for air

sitting impatiently on my tongue

black pearl


tear shaped diamond


for hand to grasp pen

fingers to touch keys

truth to be unleashed

an explosion of my soul

made visible

in black ink

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

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