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  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    You ever have a song come on that you just aren’t prepared to hear again? You haven’t heard it in almost a year and things were so different the last time and it reminds you of people and nights you wish you could go back to. A feeling you wish you could have again, that you tried so hard to not...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You dance like a sparkler at dusk on the 4th of July. You move like freedom at my fingertips. You are my permission slip to forget that we are not infinite. You are a prayer I never thought would be answered. You are here holding my hand reminding me to breathe....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Shift over, apron tossed over empty barstool, she sways, carefree, eyes fixed on guitar strings- the brightest star in the darkest corner, the center of a universe no one else seems to notice....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    1. Do not settle for less. Not from anyone. Not for anyone. You deserve more than you know. 2. Always describe your feelings with complete honesty. Even those closest to you are capable of disregarding feelings they do not know exist. 3. Leave nothing unsaid. Doing otherwise will lead to regr...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    His face- masked in white paint smeared from streams of sweat, shaded by a wide-brimmed hat with feathers and flowers and gray as the smoke rising from his cigarette, years removed from fervent adoration- is unfamiliar. The last remnants of his past incarnation- his eyes, piercing some woul...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Sometimes I feel like my nerves are guitar strings being plucked open by someone desperately trying to find the right chords They never do. It's as if they're playing with blocked ears, not bothering to listen to what their songs do to me. I know what chaos sounds like and blinding anxiety. ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    On nights like this, crisp and clear, a few impressive stars outshine the dull lights of the city and the moon is a brilliant crystal above our heads. We hear cars streaming down 65, rapid tires meeting highway pavement, stray horns of graveyard-shift trucks, their endless headlights flashi...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Sometimes, when I see the face of our president on TV, I can’t stop my thoughts from wandering to Jim Crow. I think about a white man hiding behind a white hood and a Confederate flag, lynching the souls of an entire race with each strung-up black body. I hope this man is rolling in his grav...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I’m smiling, slightly out of focus, the lens seemingly as intoxicated as the woman looking through it. My face is lit by the sun beginning to show itself beyond the highway and a few dimly glowing streetlights. Yellow flowers picked from the side of the road rest over my left ear. My eyeli...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The world is a blank canvas begging to become something beautiful, a challenge to discover the artist within, the masterpiece that lingers on our fingertips....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The blood spilled from their chests like the love they tried so hard to hide, but finally let out of the closet. Their names flew by on the news, a thirty second sound bite, two more victims of a silent genocide this country tries so hard to hide. “At this point,” the police say, “ther...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I can’t remember the last time a kiss felt weightless. The way you see it in the movies. The way it is when you’re 15, when you can’t imagine wanting any girl but the one you’re with. When her lips are still lighter than feathers and both of your hearts float like balloons. These d...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My eyes followed the smoke on its pathway through the black sky, meeting the midnight moon wrapped in the arms of thin clouds. I thought about how beautiful nothing can be. Darkness can be stunning with only a hint of a light beam, a white moon shrouded in gray, a silhouette in the middl...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am a poet. Like a man that sold his soul at the crossroads to gain devilish skill on guitar, to earn the badge of a bluesman, I sold my soul to the angels of poetry the first time I heard truth put to rhyme, the first moment I realized that beauty could appear in lyrics and lines. I would ...

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