What is a writer to do when he wants to write everything!?
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”
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”
President Trump Got a big bump on his wittle head. =( And so his combover Is bound to blow over, oh fuck this I wish he was dead.
Each page draws me closer to check and falling sprout of surpassed suppression. I give no heart to pain and I ignore its friend prejudice, It has no beacon of warmth, No fix that is real or help. There is one, and its only an idea. Only, as if that made it any less powerfulContinue reading “Surpassed Supression”
Error in Judgement, Judgment and decay no more, but an ecstasy wind. What limited realm is the i.d. of our very realm itself? Does not your realm breathe of the ecstasy wind and of ecstasy’s wind. What Apollo gods rule this earth to maker her so cruel? Why Athena have you forsaken us? 6/9/14
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”
Chapter 6 Then I had another dream. I was talking to her, telling her everything about myself. Confessing every single pathetic detail of my infatuation with her. But suddenly she changed. Suddenly I wasn’t taking to her, but the girl whom I struck whilst pummeling her boyfriend. But what I was saying wasn’t changingContinue reading “The Burden of Empathy : Chapter 6”
Chapter 5 “I’ve just had 18 straight whiskies, I think that’s the record” Dylan Thomas’s last words. That night, I had a dream. The dream was about her. We fucked in my dream, we fucked in the hottest most passionate of ways, totally naked, arms and legs wrapped around each other and locked inContinue reading “The Burden of Empathy : Chapter 5 “I’ve just had 18 straight whiskies, I think that’s the record” Dylan Thomas’s last words.”
Radio production of a hallucination and hallucinogenic splendor and fun while the estute minds of an aborted playground progress. There minds swell, and die yet live and thrive. Some think dubstep has taken over the world, others smoke the bong and preach but have no idea who Cornel West is. Preach on to the sweetContinue reading “When the Mind Goes Free”
Forgotten pages and souls wonder and wander wondering what could have been? Instead what is gets swept under the ugly rug of a family skeleton closet. Cradles never rocked. Spanish language poems fill the hallways of a once empty mind, and Gil Scot Heron is not forgotten. Who says a white man can’t jump orContinue reading “Forgotten Pages and Souls Wander”