Apr 2, 2018

30 Poems in 30 days a.k.a April is the cruelest month.

4/1/18 (1/30)

What is the word for not dead but also not living?
See: Inanimate

I am merely furniture in your continuous feng shui, so convenient and comfortable until there is company coming then you've gotta make more room in your world so you can appear more open. I'm the best kind of furniture because I move myself according to your plans.

What is the word for objectifying yourself for the sake of others?
See: Self Harm
See also: Scapegoat

Personification is a powerful resource for humanizing and animating the parts of our lives we let stagnate because they really must. The opposite of personification is the complete destruction of your own personality in order to stagnate and become just a small part of your own life. Taking the observer perspective on your own existence is beautiful and insightful in small doses where you don't lose sight of the fact that you are still the first person view in this story.

What is the word for feeling what will happen before it happens but trying to change the outcome?
See: Delusion

4/2/18 (2/30)

Often times I take putting myself in someone else's shoes far too literally, 
will prance around in anything that fits on my feet and pretend that the feeling suits me. 
A vagabond bazar gifted me a new to me pair of sneakers with all the right scuff marks 
and only one insole and I said hot damn I've got enough soul to fill the void, hey thanks man. 
At a certain point it is not the shoes that define the journey it's the dance moves you perform. 
but I still understand what you mean when you say, walk a mile in my shoes. 
Just don't look so confused when I rip them off your feet slap them into mine 
and start running as fast as I can away from you. 
I wanna know you, smelly feet and worn down rubber and all 
and I know a mile will never truly be enough, 
maybe we should come up with a longer sighted metaphor.

4/3/18 (3/30)

My heart is empty so you all can fit.
Once this was an invitation only affair,
now free to the public, my heart,

Come one come all, my heart is empty,
said to be so big and bright but
can you hear the echoes carry?

All at once:

An auditorium full of strangers,
no tickets in hand,
all here for the same stupid reasons,
ambitions in ruins and nothing left to lose.
The show must go on.
You take your seats and your impact
vibrates through me in beats.

I am the ring leader.
I stand in the middle of myself on a stage
yelling into my dimly lit disappointment,

"If you can hear me
clap your hands."

4/4/30 (4/30)

The lonesome feeling comes on in waves;

I am laying on the beach allowing the ocean
to feel my process, to be my chalk outline,
it laps at my skin like a kindred creature.

I keep my hands to myself these days
unless I am playing in the sand,
building myself impermanent.

My hands are paddles to carry me
through this storm and should not
be used to gather hearts.

The waves of lonesome knock
at the doors of my glass castle,
it crumbles back to ocean easily
I stand at the center
watching the water drain
the pain out from my feet.

I speak only when the words come knocking
like salty breezes and bouts of self reliance...
and the story comes together on a damp page.

When it settles I tell it to you in a life lesson,
all shiny and begging brilliance.

You're not as alone as you thought.

4/5/18 (5/30)

You are walking along the road
headed somewhere familiar
when you come to a fork.

The pleasant backdrop falls away
and there is nothing stopping you
from making your choice.

You're standing in your own way
with one foot headed to either place and
the road is blocked in both directions.

A stampede of doubt and emotions
comes pouring at you like ocean waves.
High tide brings with it all of your fears.

You can not see what lies
down either path.

You are swimming
against the current now
and the road is washed out.

You give in, go limp
and let float
the body
that houses
that brilliant


Only moments later

You wash up on the shore
of your own ambitions,
shaken and surprised to
find yourself right back
in the same position.

Coughing up salty scapegoats
and pretending the demons own you.

Either choice you make will likely
lead to another fork, a dead end maybe.

With a sigh

You choose to measure
your life in distance,
you say fuck it and go left,
just because it feels right.

4/6/18 (6/30)

Can you ever really belong
to someone who doesn't love you?


I'll just be here torturing myself
with the sound of your voice mail recording
it blends so well with my tunnel vision,
hasn't changed a bit since we met.

I'm a temper tantrum
made entirely of tree limbs
trying to tear themselves to bits
but don't have a tight enough grip
I am a changing season.

You're not the longest lie I've lived through,
but you have been my favorite, lover,
long live the ever backsliding romance,
being alone in a crowded room.

4/7/18 (7/30)

4/8/18 (8/30)

behind closed eyes
can not disguise
the self to itself
can not surprise
the future by telling
bad jokes about the past,
so just relax,
and visualize the rise
and fall of your breath
of peace and unity,
beautifully they materialize,
you manifest reality
hypnotize yourself happy
and laughing
gap toothed
grinning for
all the world
to see.

4/9/18 (9/30)

Sound it out
in round about
brain spouts
shout it out
in big crowds
and wear the crown
of sounds
be the king or bring
the kingdom down
bury the thrown
beneath the ground
and build a mound
above with which
you'll view the town
watch the clouds
drown out the frowns
not a sound
sound it out
turn around and
float out of focus
the joke is that
if you don't
open up wide
you just might choke.

4/10/18 (10/30)

Mar 28, 2018

Writing Exercises


I'm leading a local community writers group called Writer's Block in Boulder tonight and thought I'd make my prompts and exercises available on the web so that those who can't make it tonight might still participate and so anyone can see how I approach exercising our minds in poetry.

The group is meant to spur ideas and give us tools to reach deeper into ourselves to pull the words out. Please feel free to utilize these in your own writing spaces, to alter the prompts to your liking for your uses and to reply with pieces that were inspired by these exercises! Thank you!

Speed Metaphor -
Take 1 minute on each and create a metaphor for each word off the top of your head.
Share your favorite with the group or in the comments below!

Word Bank:


Other Words:


Returning is a silent film on rewind in the basement of your mothers old house, we drink local beer and act like no time has passed. Returning is an empty smile from a well intentioned stranger walking through the ghost town in morning fog. Returning to you is the goosebumps on the backs of my arm that rise only when truth is being spoken.

Silence, a snowstorm that slows for no man’s shivers
Silence waits for the perfect moment to fold me into itself like dough.
Silence is the moment after the sirens finally fade.

Growth is nothing more than an anthology on a shelf, a cold pat on the back for never burning out, half hearted apologies for someone you can no longer own up to, someone you don’t see in the mirror, Growth is the vines that crawl up the side of these bricks you’ve been hiding behind for years, waiting for your escape, while they await an opportunity to hook vine to flesh and leave behind seeds.

The Difference:
Take 2 minutes each or make up your own comparisons.
Share your favorite one with the group or in the comments below!


*between memories and regrets
*between love and lust
*between mind and soul
*between you and me
*between pain and pleasure


The difference between love and lust is as stark as the contrast of belly laughs and teeth in bare skin. Though both may satisfy that which hopes to watch us float away from this ground, we fly off the handle for different reasons every time, do I need the parts of you I can see, or the parts I can’t?

Rhyme it out:
Take two minutes to choose one or more of the words below and write a short rhyme either about this word or using this word. Try to keep a rhyme scheme as long as you can or choose an A/B/A/B format. Perform the rhyme or rap it to a beat if you can.

Choose a word to start:



My conviction absolute
your observations are astute
but don't try to be cute
or dilute my pursuit.

I'm feeling like the fruit
growing ripe enough to loot
hug the soil they pollute
I'm just aching for my roots

Imagine: (4 minutes each or choose one)
Try to create vivid images of what the scene would look like.


*How the forest looks from the perspective of the tree

*How homelessness would look for you right now

*What does it mean to be “free” and “brave” in America?

*What does it look like when you are content...?


(Pine describes the forest to the human)

As day breaks the light passes through us in thin beams to reach the earth,
and I stretch my branches out in the wind, to greet the warmth, feel the constant
vibration of my family passing nutrients beneath the soil, lifting each other up.

Just because we are stationary does not mean we are stagnant
this motion, barely detectable feeds all life on this planet, and we know it.
We have been moving in slow motion for longer than linear time has been applicable.
You can feel this energy flow beneath your feet, tiny human.

I can see the valley and canyon below booming with life and
spring growth as the last of the storm melts around my roots.
I hear the birds calling out that they are coming home and I
reach further toward the sky to catch them as they land, saying "nest here"

This unity is our purpose, to sway and burn as one,
to support the weakest branches or turn them back into earth.
The saplings and old growth help to keep the balance and levity 
stirring onward in attempts to keep you all breathing

Here I stand to serve this land
from near the tree line on this range,
so it was planned, I'd lend a hand
and bare witness to coming change.

Writers Block meets every Wednesday night at 9-10pm
at Block 1750 at 1750 30th st, Boulder CO

A different poet leads the group each week with
prompts and exercises to inspire participants.

Mar 17, 2018

Love Poem Featured on HowMuch.org

So honored to be a part of this badass project.
Check out Howmuch.org

Dec 7, 2017


in turn all eyes
turn inward and
find darkness.
What a clever disguise.
Discuss the quality of
the echo of your voice
off your empty ribcage
with other present tense
versions of yourself.

in turn all eyes make truth
from lies like truth is currency.
Discuss quietly the quality
of your infinite experience
with your atoms as your drift,
wait for your echoes to bounce.
What wisdom have you found
in all that seeking?

in turn all eyes go blind or
go blindly into the light.
How bright could it be?
Allow for the possibility
that you may never see yourself again.
Turn inward and find the glands
that retain your memories
at the center of it all.

You are not the center,
you are the universe.

Shut your eyes, human child,
you won't need sight where you're headed.

Nov 15, 2017

Uncomfortable Creatures

Leaning into our leisures
With increasingly creaky features
Joints stacked on rusted bleachers
Or Slumping over blown speakers
We all came to see the show 
The glow of humanity said to blow 
Our minds clean open 
Heard it spoken once or 
Twice before by poor unfortunate 
Creatures, distracted leeches 
Breaching lectures for lessons 
Compacted teachers keeping 
Levitation for themselves 
We Entertain ourselves into corners 
Bored of the incessant torment 
Looped through public forums 
Formerly I lay dormant 
A Formless doormat for those 
Hollow cored humans 
Swallowing the lumens I emit 
When I'm doing my shit 
And proving to fit 
The mold I created 
To hold my highly relatable 
Bones upright 
In spite of the future 
Brighter for the lucrative moocher 
Gleaming off the sutures 
I Used to elude to my retribution 
It's all a steaming illusion 
The creature still uncomfortable 
Mumbling something blunderful 
Into the undertow, 
I wonder though 
What doesn't the incumbent runner know, 
The fun of underestimating 
A summer sun that longs for snow 
We crumble under pressure fronts 
Low enough to make ear drums explode.

Dec 30, 2015


I allow myself to be whole
without strings inherently attached
allow the world to be my oyster
send all my energies to progress
manifest a life I can thrive in
keep my face aimed at the sun
let my inspirations flourish and
find the courage to run.

-C. Foster

Dec 6, 2015

If you believe with your whole being that the exterior world
is an extension, an expression of what is true within us
it is safe to assume that we collectively
create this reality around ourselves through our expression.
I have discovered recently that the key to believing this
is to rewire the dark thoughts I continue to have into...
something with a little more heart.
I think somewhere along the way I lost the knowledge
that I attract everything in my life to myself through
my energy and through my expression.
Some days I choose not to express at all and in doing so
I relinquish a small amount of control of what I attract.
I can't always regurgitate my thoughts in a logical order
because I have not made sense of them or because they are
too negative to be organized into manifesting beauty.
Often I can't decide if what comes out of me
is selfless or selfish or senseless in its delivery.
I am working on being articulate, speaking with conviction.
In the end, I'll have to make sure to say it all anyways
everything senseless and selfish and selfless alike
because most days it comes bursting out of me like a rocket
and I've heard that's the only way to do it right.
It is unimportant if or how this expression is received.
These words have served their purpose
just by existing within and without the writer.

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