The GGP Collective: Fall Quarterly 2023

Fall Quarterly, 2023: Issue 7

The GGP Collective

Glass Gates Publishing, 2023

“When a soul is saved, raised up out of the black abyss of despair, it never means as much to anyone else as it does to the one rescued.”

Richelle E. Goodrich

Acknowledgments A very special thank you to all of our contributing writers. Without the courage to share your words and work with others, our little publication could not exist.

Please find our contributors and follow their pages on social media for more!

Follow @glassgatespublishing on Instagram for more announcements and future calls for submissions

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Christian Ward Adam Brooks Oliver Ashcroft RN Figaro John Dennis David Keane Brad White Eshitha Rao

Table of Contents ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Redemption Prayer deathbed confessional X happiness Redemption’s Grace Not Another Sacrifice In Contrition The Cape Wrath of Love

Redemption Prayer I once ran down alleys filled with concrete roses, shifty-eyed foxes, and the city looking down on me as I struggled to find a path.

You sang to me through the darkness.

Offered me your hand and a way out of the uncertainty.

I pray for you daily, praise your name echoing in everyone and everything.

Christian Ward

Bio: Christian Ward is a UK-based writer who can be recently found in Wild Court, Scapegoat Review, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, The Selkie, Rappahannock Review, South Florida Poetry Journal and Double Speak. He can be found on Instagram at @fighting_cancer_with_poetry

deathbed confessional X happiness

head in the clouds, heart on a string, feet on the ground talk to me about dreams, and the things that we hope no one knows about screaming out the songs that haunt me with more energy than I could possess it is not my job to slay your demons but I will stand back-to-back with you while we bleed together oh, how I long for redemption!!! the tranquility of a hummingbird wing at rest the surrender of a falling leaf in October the silence of Lady Death’s cold embrace and the Earth’s strength bestowed upon a newly formed diamond i shall gladly rest in the deepest part of your heart and show you that I’m not afraid of the dark

Adam Brooks

Redemption’s Grace

The pain I’ve caused hits me at night, My deep soul yearns to make things right.

Peace and happiness is what I desire, That’s impossible with this guilt fuelled fire.

My redemption will come, I will make amends, No more enemies, I need my friends.

I must be judged on my actions, My mind is focussed, no distractions.

All I ask for is a fresh start, So I can repair the break in your heart.

My redemption begins, my voice you’ll hear, My regret and remorse, powerfully sincere.

I constantly falter, but I will never fall, When I’m sad, it’s your name I call.

You’re never there, only myself to blame, My reflection, I can’t look at the same.

A pain inside, I’m the reason you cried, Numb to my mistakes, I feel no pride.

The person I am is not the same as back then, Redemption means I can be loved again.

Oliver Ashcroft

Bio: Oliver has been a poet from a young age. However, he only began sharing his work earlier this year and is currently working on his first collection.

Instagram: @OliverAshcroftPoet

Not Another Sacrifice

She was a pretty woman And like many women before her That was her downfall In a town that was too small For people not to know About her father’s sticky fingers That made her bleed Where no true father would.

Yet, ever the dutiful daughter, She was sold to a man, Who beat her everyday To expand her father’s ego Until she finally escaped Only to find a crueler fate Of marrying a man, Whose whole existence was a lie.

My father was the ultimate leech, Who bled her dry.

He was determined To suck the life out of her soul With every new affair Because he never cared for her But just for how she looked on his arm.

My mother, the eternal optimist, loved him until she died.

And when she died, he came for me To try to bleed me dry, As it was his right he said.

Daughters were created to blindly obey Whatever horrible thing a father might say.

I still laugh when I think of his surprise That I had no intentions of living my mother’s life, As another daughter sacrifice.

I simply went my own way.

RN Figaro

Bio: RN Figaro (Cherraine Figaro) studied literature and writing at Texas A&M State University. She actively shares her poetry, prose, uplifting short thoughts, and fiction on Instagram. You can find her at RNFigaro-Writing on Instagram and Facebook.

In Contrition Pate bowed In reverence Heart befouled With sin Invocations are whispered John Dennis David Keane

Bio: John is a poet and playwright. Born and raised in The Bronx, currently residing in Westchester County, New York. He has written several short, one act plays that have been performed in Manhattan and online. Was the corecipient of the inaugural, Mark Plesent commission from Working Theater in N.Y.C, in 2021. He had a public reading of that play, ‘An Irish Echo’ in Manhattan in 2022.

You can find John on Instagram @Jkay____

The Cape As a child I recalled my world was full of mystery and joy, by many accounts I was considered a happy boy.

You see, from my view I didn’t see the struggles mom went through, and I thought dad had superpowers.

But it didn’t take long before I stopped believing he was just working long hours.

He had a new, funny sort of smell…And bottles along the floor I hadn’t seen before as well.

I’d learn about syringes sooner than any child should.

I know mom did everything she could.

There was yelling, and crying, and I felt the blame.

If I maybe just tried harder? Did better? You’d come to my baseball game.

But at what age do we stop seeing the cape?

My new reality was a truth even a child couldn’t escape.

There’s a blessing in the innocent ignorance of youth, You hadn’t done any damage from which you couldn’t recoup.

I held out hope for you, you were still a worn here in my eye.

But there came a day when you never said your goodbye.

But don’t spend your free time thinking of me now.

I’m a grown man and a proud parent…

Besides, I’m sure your recollection of my childhood is incoherent.

There’s a lesson here I was smart enough to see.

I learned a perfect example of who a man is not supposed to be.

Brad White

Wrath of Love Brutus stares down the body of Caesar, The blood stains his hands for eternity, fooled into believing it was for the best.

Brutus, Created solely to betray the one he loves the most.

His purpose was laid out before him.

He was born a traitor; he died a traitor.

Brutus was the last to stab Caesar, Looking away from the knife deep within his teacher.

He sits in the 9th circle of hell, bones eternally crushed in Lucifer's mouth, Judas and Cassius by his side.

He is to be remembered among the greatest sinners in history.

His envy was given to him by God; God punished him for it.

God loved Brutus, but he will not save him.

Eshitha Rao