Starting a new series, but it will only be available on patron. FIRST ONES FREE THOUGH KIDS 😉 https://www.patreon.com/posts/32659879
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 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”
A remix/sequel to Shakespeare’s classic.
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”
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.
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”
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”
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”
Jeff, for the love of god get high, And then we can say goodbye. You hate weed, But you need it indeed, Jeff Sessions please get high.
Charter schools are agents of the school to prison pipeline, their lack of regulations make it almost impossible to actually teach, and their treatment of teachers is inexcusable.
What? A question and an answer. Pour me my reward so that I can choke another humor. I love nothing but the beats and the rhythms and sorrows. Prophetic screams, Makeshift call, Vetoed votes pure balance, outward stance Scream of thought Scream of Idea Beacon and Call of All and Yet of None Yet ofContinue reading “Scream o Thought”
Chapter 7 I was so freaked out I couldn’t even get back to sleep. It was still dark, around 4:30am, but for some reason I felt like I had to get out of the hotel room, I felt suffocated and I couldn’t understand why. I knew I couldn’t go out the front door because I’dContinue reading “The Burden of Empathy : Chapter 7”