The Blue Angel started as an event at the Phoenix Spa back in 2005 but it wasn’t until 2006 that it had its own dedicated space where there were beer stains on the floor and posters peeling off the wall.

For twenty years we have been proud to showcase and encourage and develop the writing of so many talented SL residents and visitors. Some were published elsewhere in many different and surprising ways: volumes of erotic literature, sermons, recipes books and memoirs as well as poetry. The co-editor for BAL Volumes I and II had even written an episode of Star Trek the Next Generation!*

We have produced RL/hybrid events in Brooklyn/Second Life, San Francisco/Second Life and Harlem/ Second Life or rather been part of the team that put these events together. Two featured popup galleries and shared the theme between poetry and artwork. Pushcart Poetry Winner BJ Ward was a featured reader at one of these alongside our own Second Life poets.

Over these 20 years we have had three hosts and four bouncer/sidekicks including me, Grail, Merry, Devon, Mariner, Phaecops and Shadow. I’d like to express deep gratitude to these people for carrying the torch. Also thanks to Second Life which funded the land for the first Blue Angel, to Kolorfall who hosted the BA in its second build and to the Chelsea Hotel for hosting us to this day.

Most of all I’d like to thank the poets of the Blue Angel and other writers and artists here in second life who contribute to the artistic and emotional growth and well-being of our community.

Now off to the dive bar to host another Sunday at the Blue Angel Poets’ Dive.

Yours with deepest gratitude,
Persephone Phoenix also known as Debra Rymer


* Hypatia Pickens invented the character of Reginald Barclay, who was the first flawed Star Trek crew member who was troubled by a holodeck addiction. This is Huck’s favorite character of all time, it turns out.


It was an honour and a privilege to be asked to co-edit Volume III of Blue Angel Landing, sixteen years after the publication of Volume I. BAL does not publish often, but each time we put our minds to this, a thing of beauty emerges.

We need to be reminded of angels right now. Angels are often portrayed as guardians, as protectors, and when we experience some form of narrow escape we offer silent thanks to our guardian angel, wanting to believe that we were special enough to warrant saving in some way. I don’t believe that’s how the universe works.

I once came extremely close to death. A freak accident sent a sickle circling through the air at speed towards my head. The blade nicked the bottom of my chin and, for a moment, I thought a fly had hit me. Then I saw the white face of the over-enthusiastic grass cutter whose hand it had just left, and I realised what had happened. But I don’t believe a guardian angel stepped in to save me. Why would a universe with purpose offer special favours to some but not to others? I just got lucky that day.

But angels are also portrayed as guides, and guides are plentiful. Guides think about things. Guides have studied. Guides have insight from the experiences they’ve had and the reflection they’ve invested in those experiences. Guides teach. Guides express their understanding, and in a multitude of ways. Guides are kind (even the harsh ones). Guides try to help.

Of course, I’m still talking about people here, and one could argue that there are plenty of people who fulfil the guardian function of angels. I agree. But, whilst we see and give thanks to our protectors (and rightly so) it’s the guides who get ignored. We live in a time in which the guides are scorned, targeted, demonised. Because guides are a threat to the enemies of truth.

But the guides are still here: still working; still thinking; still expressing, where they’re able to. We are still surrounded by angels. These angels don’t need your thanks; they just need to be learned from.

I hope you enjoy this third volume from The Blue Angel: Second Life’s longest established poetry event, 20 years old in 2026. Perhaps you will find a new guide within it.

Huckleberry Hax