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late nights

midnight snacks
as they conspire
in the pantry

sleep

You are frequent with that baby swiss cheese man in the moon. Coming only when the earliest bird's begin to wake. You are always perfectly on queue. A time where I stir alive and feel I've been loving you the whole damned night. But by nine, I'll have no clue. Swiped clean with a hazy razor. I'll go throughout my day, feeling light on my feet. A lover's high from yesterday's me.

green feet

i am not being too honest with myself these days.
it's all forks and knives off the straightaway
taking my sweet old time
from point a to point b

beating around every bush
in my brain
teetering on the slack
of todays performance
i should let myself tip
and touch the earth
get some green
onto the bottoms
of my feet
dirty myself
let everyone see me
and my stained skin
let them gape at a monster from the pines

is skin and bone
the incline

the night is still.
not a gust nor breeze
to dance with me
just the right amount of brisk
to make all my hairs stand tall.
so quiet that i can hear
the crackle of my cigarette
burning away.
the electric highways
tower above me
the slight hum
blends in
with the ambience.
a mouse tip toes
across a thin wire
a dangerous act
for nothing to see.
a light creeps up
through the trees
a rumble shakes
the ground
bells chime
singing a song
of warning
a train rolls by
silently
playing a game
of routine
to entertain me.
to my left
nothing but the wisps
of my old friends
one. two. three. four. five.
we're all here
in my head
having a grand old time again.
but no
it's just me
and my cigarette

speak

all this speak
and is it worth anything at all
all this speak
and is it you
or is it me
all this speak
and what is loud enough
for us to hear
is this push on my soul - you?
all this speak
and i cant help to think
that each word
is just repeat.

The Artists:

Annie / Ashley / Avery / Brittany / Chris / Christina / Dario / Derek / Elise / Erin / Harrison / John / Jono / Kate / Mary / Pam / Shannon / Suzan / Trevor / Will

NekoCreative

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I was inspired by some spoken word poets and typography masters.

Here is one poem of many.