I barely remember 
your kiss.

I spend the night
in this dream,
waiting for you to leave.

Journey’s Across the Poetry Community: allpoetry

Happy labor day!

Lately, I’ve made virtual ventures to a wonderful site called All Poetry (AP). I’ve enjoyed my shallow experience there so far, and wanted to leave a review for anyone who’s interest gets piqued. All Poetry features a few perks that make it an exceptional platform for writers and poetry connoisseurs alike.

All Poetry hosts a large community of friendly and welcoming writers. The fellow readers and writers have opened themselves to me as a newcomer. They even have special greeters to make you feel at home. From there, you have options.

Join A Contest

Similar to r/OCpoetry, AP allows writers to submit to contests after providing 2 comments to other posts in the same contest. Some of these contests provide monetary incentives and some are just plain fun. The contests range from the open-free-verse to the hyperspecific. I found this one particularly clever.

Join A Group

Like so many other online platforms, AP allows members to create and join groups. The multitude of those available appears as diverse as the people who reside there. The communities are welcoming and extremely responsive. You can hang in the back or expose yourself to a lot of helpful feedback.

The Technicals

Navigating through the site has been a breeze. Switching from comments, to contests, to your own profile is a cinch and the performance of the site overall feels powerful.
Once you’ve got your bearings, you’re ready to write. The platform offers a simple interface, but has a lot of pre-coded options for fonts and formatting. This interface lends itself to the poet especially as you explore some of the editing options.

That’s all for now!

Of course, you can find yours truly on AP if you’re interested, but I’d be just as happy if you meander over for your own indulgence.

I hope you enjoy your weekend.


Lemonade day breeze

more on my tiktok and twitter


I listen.

It’s my job not to pay attention, but I listen.
I like to hear them laugh
and enjoy each other.
I love their stories and their snores through
a well-earned nap.

I like to hear their families say,
“Jacob turns eight this year.”
that’s Carl you’re thinking of,
but that’s okay.

I weep inside for
their breakup’s, their hard times,
their mom’s sick.
They piece my heart back together
when they ask their
if they’ve eaten. They called
just to ask that and if
they could pick anything up.

No Shows

Nah that’s cool,
shrugging lazily
and only half joking. 
Several seconds pass,
many long-winded
metaphors, and
eight god damn
whiskey sours later....

Like eating grapes 
off the vine. It
tastes less enjoyable, 
but overwhelmingly
Like a coke dealer on 
a netflix binge:
three days with no sale,
in love with the 80’s,
pass the ice. 

I spent that time
for someone to yell,
Dispassionately poised
for an assault on
my character
to my back
and everything else 
to my face. 
Nothing happened,
but dammit beg,
for the question you
already know:
the fleeing happiness,
asking instead
for accomplishment
and society’s benefit.