Hello My Pen, A Poem About Writers Block

Hello my pen, My long lost friend. I put you in your cup months ago, or was it years? You’re all I have now. These hands have toiled. This heart was broken. These eyes have cried. But still, my pen has ink. The hand that toiled Now wants that toil on the page, The heartContinue reading “Hello My Pen, A Poem About Writers Block”

Writers Block, A Poem

No ideas, but all the motivation. All the reasons to do it yet no reason at all. Like a marathon, hitting a wall. Just spit it out, Put it on the page! Put it on the Page! Forget if it makes sense, forget the grammar and spell checks. Fuck making sense. Just put it onContinue reading “Writers Block, A Poem”

Reading A Book Alone In The Redwood Forrest, a poem

Reading a book alone in the Redwood Forrest On the observational scale, I do sit here in the redwoods in lotus pose, with a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance on a stack of logs next to me. What is the catch? Is that but the paranoid disillusionment of the redneck hippiesContinue reading “Reading A Book Alone In The Redwood Forrest, a poem”

Sonnet 18 Revisited, a poem

A remix/sequel to Shakespeare’s classic.

It’s Wrong When It Stops Being Fun, A Poem

A wise man once said “It’s wrong when it stops being fun.” Well, I have to ask myself, has it? Has pining over the right word and cadence lost its spark? What, except the dark cloud that seeps its invisible cloak on my psyche, Keeps me from putting all for the gods and earthly kindContinue reading “It’s Wrong When It Stops Being Fun, A Poem”

What is Socialist Art?

Despite being written a century ago, Leon Trotsky’s Literature and Revolution offers us insight as to how we can incorporate art into a socialist culture.

Poetry’s Place in the Revolution: The Rant of a Socialist Poet

God fucking cock sucking mother fucking damnit! Quite a poetic opening am I right? Yes a bit blunt but to be honest I am in a foul mood. I started off the year strong by getting published twice in one month, but ever since June it has been a series of pitches and rejection letters.Continue reading “Poetry’s Place in the Revolution: The Rant of a Socialist Poet”

Three Napkins I Scribbled My Soul On

Recently as I was filing my chaotic pile of notes that clog my writing desk I came across three napkins with sporadic red sharpie on it. I remembered that last summer I was at a huge party to see a friend’s band. In a fit of something I have yet been able to describe withContinue reading “Three Napkins I Scribbled My Soul On”

My Recent Car Wreck; Trauma Will Not Win

Like many young writers who play the professional game I picked up a part time job for some extra cash and experience to keep my resume flowing while I still look for the door to kick in and put my foot. I started canvassing for rent control in the city of Sacramento and felt wonderfulContinue reading “My Recent Car Wreck; Trauma Will Not Win”