‘Writing, to Me, Is the Same as Breathing’

Author Barbara Avon has written with zest and fervour since she was young, beginning her writing journey with poetry riddled with teenage angst. Quite interestingly, when her first assignment in Grade IX was to write a short story, it earned her an A+, and she knew right off the bat that she was meant to write. Speaking to The Literary Juggernaut in an exclusive interaction, the author, who tends to write all the time, constantly emailing herself notes, ideas, phrases and words, says she will even awaken at three in the morning just to send herself an email! ‘Writing, to me, is the same as breathing. It’s a part of me. I don’t think I could be happy doing anything else,’ she avers.

Because the Welkin Charmed Me Much

When I was young, I’d longed to float and fly
Because the welkin charmed, allured me much;
I’d hankered after gladness and pure bliss,
The airy, blue expanse I’d hoped to touch.

The Purple Passiflora

In that instance, she ascends as a vulnerable Lotus…
Every molecule of love that she had for her man
Hurtles towards her quavering veins.
She is being prodded by the amorous pitcher plant, she too wants to devour…
Those smouldering sweat gleams dribbling from his lascivious skin.
Many nights those were the only raiments that she would be lapped in!

Angel of the Wolf

Such a cruel joke it would seem; as he is already
gone, but actually perfection with all things
considered. Only he can still hold her.

Thrown

When you were thrown right into darkened, foul pits,
Each of which snatched your chilled-out cheer, chastised charm,
I wept, wondered if ever you’d sense the harm
Caused by ones that laughed, staring at you like kits;

Eternal Misery

Sunsets on your pale ripped jean
drops of twilights in my skin
such unquenchable longing
for the insatiable thirsts
intruding arteries inside out,
spurious blood of silence has
measured off our infamous hearts

Spring Like a Deer

Spring like a deer, one scrounging for lush leaves!
Is that not something you adored to do
When your heart learnt what brought my charmed soul to
You was a force that never weeps or grieves?

When I Eyed Your Evil Eyes

What transpired next caused me great harm,
For I learnt I was conned, fooled
By you and those you had valued;
Places you’d been to were revealed,
So were lanes you’d trodden upon;
I smiled though my heart rang bruised bells.

Ethereal Beauty

Magical was this Sunset
By the Sea
As the art unfolded
Of the masterpiece
Sunset by the Sea at Twilight Time

As many times
That as l have witnessed
Sunsets and Sunrises
Living by the Sea;
Never
Have l seen such
Ethereal Beauty

‘Thoughtful’ Train

The snakes sometimes squirmed like worms you’d detest
While en route to work fields that gleamed on Earth,
And like raged, raging winds hoping not to rest,
They oft assailed and harmed and caused great dearth.

My Journey

My journey has not
been easy or short.
And I have no wish
to beat the hurts
like a dead horse.
Much of my life
has been laid out
in my page end
to end.

Winter Song

A cloudy winter morning after a prolonged freezing chill
All these months, not one but three
The burrows emptying their rations
Hearts gathering their paces
Young couple from their frictional warmth
Venturing into balconies hand in hand

Torrid Turbulence

A torrid turbulence beset the evening
As mists swirled and leaves blew amok one cold night
While fearsome frosts gathered at the edge of the kingdom
Their assault by stealth to commence
Slowly forth by degrees they did creep
Under the cloak of darkness when all were abed

Inner Child

It’s okay to be broken
And let it all out
All the words you’ve left unspoken
That you’re unable to shout
Cry little girl
You’re not out of place
Go right ahead child
Have the tears roll down your face

‘Loving’ Friend

There’s a world abiding in each where blooms love;
Nothing great can be gained if yon world dies!
I say rear the world now; never ask when.
Would that you could grasp what in yon world lies!

Rescued by Poetry

Author Robert Stubblefield started writing around the age of ten. As a matter of fact, he began composing poems at the time as a way to cope with the loss of his grandmother. Speaking exclusively to The Literary Juggernaut, the twenty-eight-year-old American author and poet, who is currently residing in Maryland, the US, says poetry has always helped him express his feelings towards the world around him. Emphasising that he usually writes when he has the urge to pen down his thoughts and whenever he feels low, Mr Stubblefield, who holds a bachelor’s degree besides two master’s degrees, says he composes poetry so he may articulate the deepest of his thoughts in ways he cannot do when he happens to be speaking.

Lady of the Lake

In the mountain where I grew up,
There is a lake that no man has ever seen freeze.
It is not the biggest, but it is the deepest.

Rebirth

I always looked round in your universe
I noticed that others had lives that were worse
So why years of drinking to blot out the pain
I have lame excuses but I just can’t explain

Testimonials

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Ai Love

Thank you so much for featuring me! Not many outlets are willing to take a chance on erotica authors, we tend to get more rejection letters than acceptance. Nice to be a part of your family and hope to do this again sometime!

Erich von Hungen

Having been interviewed by Vatsarah Stavyah (you can read the interview here), I can say that The Literary Juggernaut is AHEAD OF THE PACK. It is perceptive, astute, caring. It is curious, interested, unafraid, committed. It is there. It is all that you would most want from a literary journal, especially now with so much overload. It is a path, that is, to something new and true and real. Of all the journals out there, The Literary Juggernaut is just that, a juggernaut, and it is worth your time. Trust it. Read it.

Jackie Ross Flaum

I’m writing to congratulate you on a marvelous job writing up the interview with me and my work. I’ve put the Dec. 27 article all over my pages.

As a former journalist, I know how difficult it is to write an interview story that is factual and captures the person’s personality. I felt you did both. Well done!
And thank you.