May 21

Jail Writing

The glow of the lamplight illuminated her face
As she worked diligently on her essay.
Not small minded
But small
She scratched away with her pencil 
Leaving traces
On the paper.
Her face lit up with excitement.
The girl put down her lined piece of paper,
That looked like a jail for words.
She took out
A piece of blank paper
And began to write.
"The glow of the lamplight illuminated her face..." 
May 13

Alacrity - Spoken Word

Here is another video I created using WeVideo!
Written, read, created, and mostly filmed by me
Song: "You're Somebody Else" Instrumental by Flora Cash 

There is sunshine this morning. 
It warps the frost on the window,
melts frozen feathers into my palm, 
dampens the folded cuff of my coat. 
I'm not waiting for anyone. 

This morning there is music resonating
down the hallway at school. 
Someone stands in the center of a room to my right,
mouth open,
dancing with words,
smiling only half as wide as me. 

There's ink on my wrist,
blued from writing late into the night 
when my bare feet refused to walk
in the solitary dark to the cold sink down the hall, 
wash my hands
with frothy soap under endless water. 
May 10


Make myself a new messiah,
"Trust me," I say- they know I'm a liar;
some good old-fashioned bloodletting,
you take it back- I'm not forgetting
that time they told me I was dirty-
Little birdie,
far too wordy,
                      quite upsetting.
It wasn't long before it worsened,
hateful, pithy little person-
can't explain why my shows are all booked;
you say they're mad- I say they're hooked
and maybe just a little crazy-
Slightly lazy,
eyes are hazy
                      since I first looked.
Burn this copy; new revision-
tripping on my tunnel vision;
dark and gritty, avant-garde,
cannot swallow- much too hard
if you've ever stopped to listen-
Twisted vixen,
pavement glistens
                              with glass shards.
The shades are drawn; the light is darkened
Audio download:
May 06

Trashcan Man

It was a matter of fact
Something Trashy didn't have 
All he had was a matter of time 
That was running out
Always something of flame
We knew Trashy was to blame 
I guess we never really understood
What he was about 

But his name
Became a game
I remember how we would shout

Come to get rid of the mess of the human race?
Soon you're gonna burn away the town
Are you gonna burn the whole damn world down?"
Young Trashy, Trashy was our clown

"Hey, Trashman
Don't you think it's best you burned off your face?
'Cause we're sick and tired of looking at you cry"
And to this day, I wonder why we felt so big 
When we saw our words leaking out of Trashy's eyes 

It was a matter of love
Something Trashy didn't know
Have I told you all the words we would call him? 
He was a matter of flame
Always hating at the rain 
Audio download:
Trashcan Man.m4a
Apr 08

I Will Stick Out

They put me in a system that my people can’t escape
Just because my people don’t blend in, just because of their skin
They say “ make America great again”
It’s tough because they can’t see it through a black lens
They give us commercials to wear the latest trends
When they wear it it’s lit, but when we wear it it’s ghetto
But when a black person gets shot they lay low
They don’t want to think that a person that looks like them would do that
So they lie to everyone and say that we were strapped
They ask us questions about the shooting that are irrelevant
To make us look like the bad guy, well, that’s how the message is sent
Poor white guys are too ignorant to see the apparent
They’re put in a system, too, just with a lighter sentence
So I got a question, why is February the only time I learn about my heredity
While we lie to kids and teach them about good white guys like Santa and the tooth fairy
Apr 04

I Remember

I remember a time when I thought the world was a beautiful place.

I remember thinking about villains in stories and movies and laughing because everyone nowadays is so nice. How could anybody be that cruel? It didn’t make sense.

I remember history lessons, and the way we learned about war, discrimination, hatred. It seemed so far away, as if they were fairy tales told to scare us. The deaths, the victims, all of that was just numbers to us. An annoyance to fit so many zeros onto that one line we set aside for statistics.

I remember watching the news with my father half-heartedly. I didn’t understand what the person on the screen was talking about, and I didn’t really want to. I just wanted the person to stop talking about whatever he was going on about so we could switch back to Disney Channel.
Audio download:
I Remember.m4a
Feb 20
audio 0 comments challenge: Song

Lily By Alan Walker, Summary By PandaStoriez

This is not my song, this is Lily by Alan Walker

Lily was little girl
Afraid of the big, wide world
She grew up
Within her castle walls

Uh oh~

Now and then she tried to run
And then on the night with the setting sun
She went in the woods away
So afraid,
All alone

They warned her,
"Don't go there!" 
"Theres creatures, who are hiding in the dark!"
Then something
Came creeping 
It warned her,

Don't you worry just,
Follow everywhere I go
Top over the mountains and valley low
Give you everything you've been dreaming of
Just let me in


Everything you wantin' gotta be the magic story you've been told
And you'll safe under my control
Just let me in


Just let me in


She knew she was hypnotized
And walking on cold, thin ice
Then it broke,
Feb 03


One moment
One oppertunitity
A simple eye connection
And secret looks at the ground
A bag spilling with coins
Faces glaring up at us
Screaming take me.
But this money comes with a price
We both know that.
Take the money 
Pay the price
And you're filthy rich.
In money anyway.
Our hands touch on the bag
A thick canvas sack
Rough under our fingertips
Take the money
In that moment our eyes meet
A train whistles
We stand up and walk away.
Our heel clicks fading into the distance, 
Leaving behind an undesirable canvas sack

Feb 03


They say that
He was the water
And she was the fire
But his riptides overcame her
And buried her flame.
She was caught in his wild storms
And tossed around like a rag doll.
She used to be fierce 
But now she is soggy
And flexible like a rubber band.
He scattered her ashes
Like seed to a starving bird,
His dark eyes flashing with a thousand storms.
He was the water
And she was the fire
But then she grabbed hold of the wind
And whisked him away.

Dec 23

Forgotten Friendship

A charcoal sketch of long ago
Our footprints faded in the snow.
The smell of honey always stays
A reminder of the far off days,
When we liked each other
Sister from another mother.
Music you played I can't delete
It continues on in my heartbeat.
I know I should say adieu
And start letting go of you,
But I can't bear to break your heart of glass
So I guess this lie will forever last.
We are doomed to be together I suppose
Just like the thorn and wild rose.
Someday I'll tell you how I feel
Our movie reaching the end of its reel.
But untill that time
Though our friendship is sublime
I"ll look into your starry eyes
And hope the rain will leave the skies.

Dec 18

And I Breathe (SONG)

And as we grasp the burning fire
Our lungs are exhaled into sparks as we drift higher
The poison burning from our lips
Struggling for a bitter grip
And I breathe
And I breathe
You are the mother of my wounds
You are the lover of my accusations
You take the ripples from my life
And put the ripples in this poison patience
And I breathe 
And I breathe
Push through the caverns with a lighter
That evermore will bring me dark
If I keep looking
We will fall into the binding 
The forest crumbles from my spark
And I breathe 
And I breathe
You are the mother of my wounds
You are the lover of my accusations
You take the ripples from my life
And put the ripples in this poison patience
And we breathe
And we breathe
And we breathe

Dec 12

A day in the Life of a drop.

Our story begins in the bare forests of Vermont, with me. One water molecule among hundreds of others, formed together as a snowflake that is lighter than a feather. It is a wind forsaken day, and the leaf I sit upon doesn’t stir, though it is dipped low to the ground with the weight of many others like myself. Snow covers the landscape in a never ending blanket. And then slowly, as if in a dream, we watch as white turns to green, bringing with it the melty warmth of spring. The nearby river swells with runoff, and as I drop to the ground, now unfrozen and swift, I feel certain I will be joining it soon. But wait! In front of me.. Something white.. I’m stuck to its sides and become slowly absorbed. Roots. As I travel through the plant, other collected molecules beside me are turned into nutrients, but I find my way to the pores at the top of the leaf, and begin transpiring to the sky above.
Audio download:
Dec 11

A moment of quiet in the locker room

One shoe off
then the other.

Quiet besides the
rhythmic replacement of clothing
fabric against my skin.
The lights don’t buzz
the sink doesn’t drip
for once
my day is quiet as
nights on Inis Mor
I the only one awake
Good Will Hunting was over
and we in our corner room were tucked in.
Me, climbing out of bed
socked feet padding
to the window
and the breeze was
Cape Cod
my grandmother
my childhood
cookies from boxed mix
and books from eight cousins.

I existed in many places suddenly
in the picture frame on my mantle
in the surf at the bay
in that quiet little room
in my sister’s heart
in the empty locker room after class
in my memories
as I unmade 
and then
myself again
taking off one version to
be another. 

One shoe
then the other.
Dec 07
Dubz's picture

light finder

I traveled
deep into the earth
foraging my way
to the devils hearth
on the gravely stones 
taking in the faded bones
in that hellish place I saw 
an unholy,
demons maw 
and as I looked
down that yellowish throat

I found the light inside myself
Nov 24

The Winter Painters

The brushes of the winter wind
Whisk across the cottage windows.
Only in the darkness do they paint
For they are shy
And work best in the night.
When the world is fast asleep
They come
They come across the freezing moor
Peering in the windows of all the houses
Riding the tendrils of clouds
Carried along by the gusts of chilly wind.
They come to each window
And dip their brushes in the frosty air.
Then they create 
They paint small spirals and designs all over the glass.
They dance through the winter air and dab at their canvas.
When each window is a masterpiece
They retreat back to the sky.
In the morning,
The children wake up and gasp in surprise at the painters' work.
They use their fingers to add their own touches to the frosty art.
Soon the sun
Melts away their work 
Clearing the canvas
So the winter painters can cover them once more.
Nov 24


The snow swirls around me
Covering up my footprints,
Leaving me stranded in the colorless blizzard.
The cold bites at my bare skin
Turning it to a rosy red.
Trying to take me over,
But my heart stays beating like drums
To a wild rhythm,
The wind whistles like flutes
A mini orchestra sings in my ears.
Keeping me walking
Keeping me alive.
My journey continues
My fight persists
My destination?
For all of the world to take in.
Nov 10
audio 0 comments challenge: General
Layjmo's picture

I'm Sorry, But...

I'm Sorry, But...

I’m sorry, but...
What are we teaching the kids these days?
Are we teaching them to go along with whatever the most dominant person says?
Don’t have opinions, just move on, avoid distress.

I’m sorry, but…
That’s not going to work for me.
Why is it considered bad when someone states they have a side?
When they want to do or be one thing over another?
Saying “I don’t care,” “whatever,” “it doesn’t matter to me...”
Makes you a better person, the desired person, more so than the one who actually knows what they want?

I’m sorry, but …
That just doesn’t seem right to me.
Why is it good not to have a preference?
I’m always told that I care too much.
I always try not to care.

I’m sorry, but...
Remind me again why I don’t want to care?
Why is that wrong, and bad, and strange, and different?
Oct 26

20/20 Vision / The Sun Will Die

The year I turn eighteen,
our atmosphere will release
the last particle of helium
Into space.

I was born in the
Year of the
On the 20th

and the 2nd atomic element
will leave our planet in 2020,
2 years from now.

If the universe is made up of math,
all algebra
glimmering with geometry,
tinted in trig
and cradled in calculus,
Then tell me,

Is 18 an equation where if
1 is singularity
and 8 is upright infinity,
then 18= adulthood?

But of course no mathematician will answer me
till I solve for that constant,
find the double of fear,
the square root of censure
round to significance -

To 18
to having
rights a
Vote a
To be a Person.

A person
That  forgets anyone with less than
2 digits painted under their eyes,
Oct 19
Kittykatruff's picture

The Dream Lives On

I wrote this song awhile ago, for the Martin Luther King Day of 2018.
As I was looking through files on my computer, I found it again and listened.
I thought about how we need more people like MLK in our world today, and how we need to realize this more often
instead of on just one day of the year. 
This is why I'm sharing this song now. 

The lyrics are below, and there's also a recording above (the recording at the bottom is the same; please disregard it). I'm the singer, and my former English teacher played the guitar.
The song is titled "The Dream Lives On".

One night I woke up                      
Wishing I’d stayed asleep,                   
Walking into a world                        
Different in my dream.                 

Such terrible suffering around me,              
When will humans solve the inequality?