This is absolutely crazy The night is for sleeping But this is so fun! I cannot sleep Until my work is done! Writing my imagination Fleeing reality Just for 24 hours Is absolutely insane but at the same time I love it It’s like playing…

A major portion of people’s life is spent in communting if the distance between their home and workplace is considerable What they do during this time depends on their mode of travel In local trains, the aim is to manage to reach your destination In…

Others are not doing what I am not doing but sure wish that I was… (Or do I?) As I sit here and write all a~scribbly and quibbly I hear from above all the humping and pumping, the screeches and screams Of more kittens soon…

unless you count rap spoken word spoken word greeting cards middle schoolers writing haiku people who actually make their livings teaching poetry Open mic and online poets and the family of those who “are a poet and didn’t know it.”

In the dark sound moves like a murmuration of starlings, or dust spiraling far enough away to wonder if it’s a person, the thin, spinning column until it collapses and you know nothing was there but sand reaching up. You imagined it. Kevin swaying inside that…

they all sleep or read their books work on laptops and play on tablets they order more coffee or more mineral water i keep looking on the window watching the clouds go by

The problem with living in the city is there’s always someone doing what you are doing. There’s traffic all through the night and you are never the only one up or out.   Well, maybe once. In treacherous wind-chills, my visiting brother and I trudged…

It’s five in the morning, I should be alone, the only one up in this house, as I finish what I started twenty-four hours ago, this poetry marathon, a sleepless creative hell of my own making, only because I have to work in two hours…

I journeyed into the wood Searching for myself, As high up as the trees, And as low as the rivers flowing freely. And everywhere I turned I found no man, But in the great spirit of nature, I found my soul reflected instead.

Darkness slips silent, tight to the ground On velvet paws A cat Is absorbed into the shadows Of an ebony hedge Which rustles And is loosed Into the dark air In rough-winged flight A crow Rises Where Murky clouds cluster In a brutish sky Darkness…