Tag Archives: the

Show Poem: Just one conversation Can change the whole Mood of your poem… Saturday. May 30 / Warrensburg, MO / The Bay #Schwervonpoetry

UntitledI wallow just like
the rest of the wet piglets
Slipping and sloshing
Like a virgin trout in love
At the hatchery 

The mud
never touches my exquisite
cloven hooves 

On very little sleep
I eat badly 

all around
The entire city cheers
For what they get
With a lot of hard work
And very little effort 

Bombs exploding
One after another
Rapid succession
Compressed, quantized and equalized

And the fans go wild

Just one conversation
Can change the whole
Mood of your poem 

Pyro city in a water world
That’s my soul up there
Sun spots on the backs
Of our hands
More fireworks
Less drunken fish fight
Choreography

Let’s break a leg on it

We’ll make the stars dance
Like they dance on
Dancing with the stars

Baseball diamonds in the rough… Sat. April 11 / Kirby’s Beer Store / Wichita, Kansas #Schwervonpoetry


Paradise Lost virginity
In a church parking lot

I wasn’t worried about
Where to hide my gun

Baseball diamonds in the rough

Forgotten plots of genius
Dead things on the side of the road

Smoke through bullet holes
Snacks that don’t make you
Hate yourself

Golden hills burnt black
Billboard bushes
And fast food tumbleweeds

The birds returning
Bridge NO. 68.451

WHITEWATER RIVER
All caps, Helvetia, green background

Half of the sky is gray
And the other half is white

Beating things down
Blowing things up

At this moment
None hurt my head

(This poem was recited for the first time on Saturday, April 11, 2015 at Kirby’s Beer Store, in Wichita, KS)

We sit upon the broken eggs… Friday, March 14, 2015 #Schwervonpoetry 

IMG_5109Morning sun deliver me
From the tar pits
Fuel the day with
Woolly Mammoth tusk.
The picked over bones of writing.

Skin crumbs that chip and peal
from all the faces
That I love and dream

A day before the fire
Evading the battles
Over log cabins and hard cider
Birkenstock face lifts
Spray painted Cadillacs.
Mr. Potato head eye shadow

We learn to dance with
The broken bodies

We study the chickens in the yard
We learn from their moves
We sit upon the broken eggs
The imperfect yolks.

Broken free
We shine with glitter
Dripping from the corners
of our mouths

We smile rainbows
With each potato we peel
Each root we pull from the earth
Our dirt clod legs
Dangling in the sunlight
Pounding on the water trough.

Of this earth but no longer in it
Time to skip and dance
Time to feed others
With our passion packets of
Life force.
Feast on us.
Be filled to move.

(This poem was recited for the first time on Friday, March 13, 2015 at Vacant Farm in KC, KS)