thepianofarm:

Tonight I am in Canberra Australia & I was watching the end of the first half of tonight’s show, when I saw a man walk across the room that looked like someone out of my memory. He looked familiar, I couldn’t place him, & my thoughts moved on. He then walked up to me and put this pen in my hand. The Hotel Blue. “For you,” he said. “Do you remember?” I didn’t. “That’s from the National Poetry Slam in ABQ, the year you won.” I remembered. At the 2005 Nat’l Slam Hotel Blue was the official hotel (& one where the hotel manager won the Spirit of the Slam award for his overreaching hospitality, which incidentally also lost him his job). The man was Daniel Farrar, who was one of my bout managers :) He was planning to attend my show tonight and randomly came across his pen in a toiletries bag earlier today. Was quite special to be handed a piece out of my past, a small & gentle reminder that one’s life is built out of more than just where one currently is.

thepianofarm:

Tonight I am in Canberra Australia & I was watching the end of the first half of tonight’s show, when I saw a man walk across the room that looked like someone out of my memory. He looked familiar, I couldn’t place him, & my thoughts moved on. He then walked up to me and put this pen in my hand. The Hotel Blue. “For you,” he said. “Do you remember?” I didn’t. “That’s from the National Poetry Slam in ABQ, the year you won.” I remembered. At the 2005 Nat’l Slam Hotel Blue was the official hotel (& one where the hotel manager won the Spirit of the Slam award for his overreaching hospitality, which incidentally also lost him his job). The man was Daniel Farrar, who was one of my bout managers :) He was planning to attend my show tonight and randomly came across his pen in a toiletries bag earlier today. Was quite special to be handed a piece out of my past, a small & gentle reminder that one’s life is built out of more than just where one currently is.

30 notes 

Check out my ebay selling guide that I posted on how to sell your guitar online.
ebay influenster.

*This post is part if a contest to win a prize.

thepianofarm:

The commissioned poem I did for The Music Bed ? Well the video they used it for is done! They’re using it to launch their contest/campaign Project Film Supply, where filmmakers submit their story idea and the winner will be backed. It’s a pretty awesome contest, and I think the video came out pretty tasty too. I don’t enjoy watching or hearing myself but in spite of that, I think there’s a lot of lovely in the above. Get all the low down on the contest here.

132 notes 

She’s great

She’s great

silver-afternoons:

I’m throwing away my apologies and planning my goodbyes
this is a change in location not a change in lucidity
I am a mountain with the same mindset and miles away
I am still a poet
I am just breathing in new air

I still write about you
but in a different light

I was a fool to think you could…

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My latest guitar wiring theorem. If it works, I shall be content.

My latest guitar wiring theorem. If it works, I shall be content.

The poet
never wrote of
his love for me,
which is how
I am certain it
was never there.

276 notes 

young hearts’ poison

michaellottner:

somehow i know
that if i cut
my hair, dye it
yellow- pierce my tongue
introduce my taste buds
to other women
i will still be your prisoner

so i leave my hair as is
and leave you on my tongue
and wear the same
cologne

after all, why would i
want to be anything other
than the young kid
you fell in love with?
.

208 notes 

Do you ever feel
Like you’re the trigger
And everything else is moving quicker
Than a house of cards
Falling down

On the pier
Don’t we appear like little stars
Just watching the waves laugh
Hoping that the moon will bring them back again

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The humid air flowing through the screen door, breathing it in
Left to find a meaning South of shreveport, leaving again

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Snippet 3c

It’s funny
How a life can change in the moment
You open up your heart the second hers closes

Jay Brannan and me after his show in Boston. Wish I could open for this guy one day!

Jay Brannan and me after his show in Boston. Wish I could open for this guy one day!

3 notes 

Snippet 2a

Another cold November sets again
Another old friend to lie to
Never told me that she was leaving
Just said she was never coming back

I thought I won,
But I lost the war that pokes
Found out my gun was always my finger and thumb
Pointing towards yours
Love leaves no casualties
Only formalities
How have you been?
Good. Good!
Cause I’ve been a wreck
Good. I still haven’t loved you yet.

Drenched in absinthe, he picks up a matchstick
“One more hit” he says
There’s no sense in sensing abstinence
Anaemic, froze so cold
And so he puts on an old coat
And slips up his bandages
Ravaged and ravenous
Offensive stench on a bench
And a mindset of savages
He said ‘bring it’
But he’s talking to no one
Everyone left
If they didn’t already disown him

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Random Rhyme

Got a rhyme on the table think I’ll save it for later
My mind is alphabetic I try to numb it with paper
I’ve written things that put a cross between me and my maker
Once I quit going to church Jesus looked at me greater