Stabbing #yolo with the reincarnation cycle. #moon #poem #poetry #poet #poetsofinstagram #art #writing
Shooting the cats on your tablet
I Can’t Smash My Computer
don’t go train hopping with a tablet. you’ll get shanked
Spent years of work humping Google
Years writing shit and okay shit
Compiling manuscripts, sending submissions
Optimizing my blog
Publishing zines and anthologies
Promoting submission calls
Responding to tweets
Coordinating cross promotions
Hunting designers who’d work for free because I’m horrible at making your…
Reading poetry to lions
We need to read poetry to lions. We need to convince ourselves our creativity can change the world. Everyone does at least a little bit of that.
Anarchism is taking responsibility for who you are and what you believe in.
Your actions and memories are the composition of who you are.
Who you are is the constant aspects of you no matter the environment.
Spirituality is composed of your memories.
These are my personal voices
any may use them.
These are my personal songs
any may sing them.
Let’s get lost in the 100 acre wood
Make love without touching each other
touching ourselves in front of each other
feeling like pre-mature ejaculation
then shoving your tongue inside her because you don’t want to leave her unsatisfied.
We drive sun strained roads
watching Colorado rain wet open fields.
A beaten conversion van waiting to die
collaborates with Time for poems I’ll never write.
"My God could kill yours."
by Katie Hogan a priest with greasy fingers
shoving french fries
through his chapped lips,
smiling through his rotting teeth.
this is the body of christ.
and he laughs with his mouth
full, remnants of swept up
potatoes glued to his cheeks,
as his white collar grows tighter.
let us rejoice and give thanks.
he grabs his soda, lips eagerly
kissing the rim, chugging down
the ounces of…
Busted up ears
Punching my skull because I couldn’t draw blood with a knife
The woman sleeping next to me wakes up
She falls back a sleep
I aim for teeth
loosen the metaphor with something tangible
grab the horny by the dick
stab a needle in each goose bump
blood laden pimples
leak along arms
I can’t fucking write anymore I can’t fucking write anymore I’m whipping out my skeleton so I can…
Emails from the Stream
essay & poem by Bradley Coy
“Hey man! Thanks a lot for your help. Here’s a little essay type thing I wrote about the millennials and our context in the current world.
We are a little whimper.
Irrelevant in a haze of mediocrity. There is no more cultural or generational cohesion. We have been splintered and splintered and splintered into tinier bits and pieces and niches and obscure subcultures to…
When I grow up
When I grow up I want to be a poem
When I grow up I want to be a student
When I grow up I want to a teacher
When I grow up I want to be a river
When I grow up I want to be dead
When I grow up I’ll be growing
When I grow up I want to be graffiti
When I grow up I want to be a Naked Lunchable
When I grow up I want to be a new language
When I grow up I want to eat stop signs with my cereal
When I grow…
Pomegranates are petrified blood oranges
by Jesse Stewart
Juicy orange groves flood
as oceans crawl from the skies-
in a somber sheet.
Your goosebumps are New York City of wind and fire
by Ben Riddle
The wind whispers worthless words;
each biting as the cold of dusk,
piercing my ideas of self.
My eyes glaze, and I remember
other cold and worthless nights;
some familial, others intimate – all lonely.
I recall the reckless abandon
with which I chased storms
and winds and validation -
A perpetual quest for something inside,
for what gives me breath, and why;
why do the…
Creative brain juices of youth are worth fighting to maintain through age
by Zeena El Gindi,
Big clouds grey skies,
These are no lies.
Bakery store on your right,
A tram roaming all night.
Named after a color of white,
Filled with might,
The roads sometimes tight.
Blegrade the white city,
is cute just like a kitty.
Zeena El Gindi is a grade seven student and lives in Dubai. Her poem “Sudan’ about her first visit to her father’s homeland been…
#authority #you #humans #poetry #poem #poet #writing #creativity #art #freedom #government #advertising #vandalism
We are the Dolphins that kill Sharks. #poem #poetry #gatsbysabandonedchildren #poetsofinstagram #writing
A fist full of moon rocks
Sleeping with the Moon in my arms
I want to fall asleep holding you
I want to adventure with you in my dreams
I want to wake up next to you
I want to adventure with you awake.
Fold me safe inside of you
Fold you safe inside me
Feel each soft
before the funeral in my brain
does role call.
previously published in Fuck Art, Let’s Dance