Meet Sudden Denouement Collective Member Jimmi Campkin

Another amazing writer at the Sudden Denouement Collective.

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

The editors of Sudden Denouement Literary Collective know that our strength is our writers. We hope that you enjoy getting to know them through our new Writer Interview Series.

What name do you write under?

Jimmi Campkin

In what part of the world do you live?

I am currently living in a small seaside village called Whitby, in the North East of England.  Whitby is a charming and beautiful little place – little changed in 850 years – with narrow winding streets, ancient buildings, a ruined Abbey on the cliffs and wee cobbled roads – as well as long beaches and the power and majesty of the sea, which crashes over the town during storms or is as still as glass when calm. Whitby also has connections to literature – Lewis Carroll stayed here a few times, but more famously Bram Stoker was also a visitor and set much of…

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untitled- Daffni Gingerich

Untitled by Daffni Gingerich at Sudden Denouement. Hauntingly beautiful, like the moment you finally drift back asleep…after waking from a nightmare.

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

On the edge of the room his hands tighten around my neck. That is when I have so much to say. Finding words is a fragile thing for me. And when my eyes cross everything flits away along with my energy. I am silence. Death taunting him for just a sip of his…. The race. The cow on her side swollen still milking. Drained with history. With talks of saving the world. I feel my eyes twitch behind the lids. I see the men I’ve danced into the bedroom for proof. For proof of my existence. I exist I exist I EXIST. Then I don’t. Not anymore. Not lifefull or lifeless. Silenced. Floating. Not suffering/just quiet. And when they apply the straps to hold me down my heart pounds speak speak speakValium- 10mg administered at 2:45am by TJspeak speak speakValium- 10mg administered at 3am by TJ Restraints applied-…

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I Ain’t No Damsel

I Aint No Damsel by Christine Ray at braveandrecklessblog. Powerful! A veritable force of nature reading the world the riot act!

Brave & Reckless

strong-warrior-woman

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

voiceless

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

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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Penny wise…pound foolish

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Imagine..if you will

A razor sharp melon baller 

Glowing white with heat

And you scoop a perfect little ball

From the inside of your thigh

The wound cauterized instantly

The smell of bacon permeating the air

The admin, at your place of work

Holds the jar’s lid open for you to deposit 

That perfect little ball-of-you

The price you pay for your paycheck 

But you continue on

Filling your tech pocket

With an iPhone X

Wrist covered in a 2nd gen iPhone watch

All so you look less like a golf ball 

And more like, well…everyone else

Now we could certainly discuss

The scoop value of your gaming PC

The loss of blood was so great

Getting that goddamn Lexus 

You had to pay in installments 

But we give of ourselves in many ways 

When your partner drags you out

To the company clambake 

And you’d rather just read a book

The decision to compromise 

Is certainly worth a scoop

Don’t you think?

The day you threw away 

That copy of US News and World Report’s

Ranking of the best colleges 

Your fingers worn smooth

Running across Iowa’s Writers Workshop 

So you could sign mortgage documents 

Sliding five little you-spheres

(The first of many)

Across the mahogany desk

The banker immediately fashions into

One of those kinetic desk sculptures 

He pulls two orbs-o’-you back

They swing, hitting with a soft

Wet

Sound

But the middle ovoid sits still

The fourth and fifth spheroids 

Taking up the trajectory 

You suddenly realize

That all these times

You’d given up

Parts of you

You’d given up

Mass and subsequently 

Force and inertia

Soon there’ll be

No more

Pushing

Back

At

All

love letter and a dime.

LOVE LETTER AND A DIME by Ra’ahe at fallenalone. I feel as though I’d just awoken from a dream and I’m trying desperately to remember the details so I’ll know why I’m crying. Beautiful.

Fallen Alone

i have loved you long for longer years, in stories of myth and death and pain, throughout histories of broken tales, and premonitions of mirrors bleeding upon a poem i would, and perhaps should carve out of the chambers beating breathlessly in my heart- a heart that you could quite literally feel dying an asphyxiated death beneath the hollowness of the ribcages you spent your nights painting with. somedays, when the rain is no less than a painless substitution for the ink i fill my copperplate nibs with, i can hear you wordlessly walk the short few steps from the window to the bed, in search of a moonless dusk we both lost somewhere along the way from one year to the next, as the guitar strings and the violin blades tangled away from our skeletal ankles, predilecting pulse in lieu of a coffin coldness.

ossification was just one of…

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A folding of forms

A folding of forms by Oldepunk at ramjetpoetry. A quiet sense of desolation conveyed in beautiful imagery and tone.

RamJet Poetry

folding

There is blood in the indecision

Ineffectual in effigy

The loss stains the water

mayhem comes before

form of thought and action

corals and pale blues

finger upon cold lips

a radiance too dark

finds history in the current

life just below the surface

a glamour of perspective

honesty is brutal

rippling the reflection

waves carry the secret

until encountering break

red droplets of regression

palette silver anguish of green

cut to the knowing

of living in-between

image courtesy of Pinterest

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I Had An Image-Lois Linkens

I Had An Image by Lois Linkens at Sudden Denouement. Beautiful and elegant language that contrasts wonderfully with such a weighty subject.

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

unnamed.jpgAnd then it was a misted eye, a thought.

A passing glimpse, a shadowed hall upon

A shadowed hill. I would my peace were brought

In Years, but I am just as restless further on.

I have purple skin for those Knocks that came

As birds do knock. Yellow beaks and plumage bright –

Woe betide my jealous heart, for shame!

I would to get away for just one night.

I look towards the Clouds and sink inside –

There is a firmer future at their feet

Than this curled life that joys to send me weak.

Where is this hallowed Hope of which they speak?

I would its lips would kiss me as its Bride –

Its hands would lift me to that image sweet.


[ Lois describes herself as a “confused english student,” though one quickly finds a polished, charming poet in her work. She has an elegant…

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Play Dead – Introducing Kristiana Reed

Play Dead — Introducing Kristiana Reed at Sudden Denouement. Wonderfully dark and insidious at inhabiting the dark corners of your mind!

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Monster is living inside of me

behind my ribcage,

she curls herself around my spine

draws her fingers to my throat

to stroke my collarbone,

to deliver raspy breath to my ear

repeating the words

on which I always choke –

my name, my wants, my needs,

my apologies, my fury –

and the dust from the bones

she’s grinding with a gummy jaw.

Sometimes she sinks down

to bask in the darkness of my womb,

recline in my pelvis

and drag her nails up my thighs

and down my calves, towards my feet

where she binds me with manacles,

shrieking maniacally

words garbled with my sins –

breathing, praying, hoping,

talking, waiting –

for this torture to end,

for Monster living in my head

and the hollows of my heart,

to vanish and leave me

to play dead.


Kristiana Reed day dreams, people watches in coffee shops, teaches English…

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Meditation- Kindra M. Austin

Meditation by Kindra M. Austin at Sudden Denouement. I would forgo a synthetic heart just to revel in the resonance of this poem!

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Shall I ascend to solitude,
eagle high
enough to spy
myself?
Put my metal parts to practice, and
train my reason to speak in
comprehensive sentences?

I presently think in blinks of
tainted photographs
flicking—
our lives a fucking flip-book filled with phony animation, as
though we’ve never been anything more than a
pair of paper dolls pretending to breathe.

The surgeon lied. I am not bionic;
should’ve demanded a synthetic heart
instead.
Mine is afflicted with fissures, and
I feel the blood leaching like so many earthworms
smothering my organs.

My body is not a temple, but a churchyard—
your burial ground, and there’s no space reserved for
me. So ascend I shall,
eagle high
enough…


Kindra M. Austin is an indie author (her books can be found here), a founding member of Indie Blu(e), and a writer/managing editor at Sudden Denouement, Blood Into Ink, and Whisper and the…

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