Let’s Talk


Talk to the lady at the right of you 

She will tell you what you need to know 

I’m not joking seriously talk to her…. 

maybe you would learn something for once

Hearing and listening are two very different things 

Everyone hears mostly everything 

But it’s easy to set your mode to basic where 

time and vibration weave in and out

So listen to me and to talk to the woman on your right side

Really talk 

Nothing’s worse then small talk 

How’s the weather today? Isn’t wonderful… it’s 100 degrees we are both drenched, but isn’t it beautiful? How are you? I’m fine. Nice to meet you. Nice to meet you too. Bye bye. 

No. The weather outside is not nice.  I am not feeling ok. Nice to meet you? I don’t know you… I don’t know what to think about you and I never will with all this machine pleasent talk. Bye? 

Let’s get real with each other. Let’s make it ok to be open. Let’s not feel shame about our hardship, because I can guarantee everyone has or going through something. Let our connection twine deeper. Don’t let ok just be ok. 

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little poem. It was a fun little thing to write. Let me know your thoughts down in the comments. 

-Till next time!

Bone Dice 


Bone Dice 
Pushed from behind a girl falls into the streets. Her cheeks stained brown she gets up and turns left stepping into the murky puddles along the way. She comes upon a narrow path leading up to an empty store. Curious she steps inside to find it is empty no more. For once you go to someplace empty you occupy its space and with your presence the environment changes cobwebs breaking and dust unsettled from your breathe. Further inside the walls she went, till she came upon a curtain of red. Pulling it aside she comes across a thing sick and disfigured and dead. It turned to look at her and smiled flaking skin pulling around destroyed teeth. “Would you like a gamble my dear it asked.” The girl could only shriek. “Now Now my dear, that’s just enough all you have to do is hold out your hand. No harm shall befall you if your luck does stand and all that should be will come to pass.” She lifted up her shaking hand and held it out to the thin of filth. “You are a gambler my dear, let’s play a game take these dice and see what will come.” 
She took the dice. 
She rolled them in her hands. 
The monster disappeared. 
As they leaped within the air. 
From the snake eyes she screamed. 
And two years past till the snake came to take her bones.
There once was a girl who trusted a friend. 

Thanks for reading! This is just a weird little poem I wrote a long while back that I wanted to share with you all. Let me know what you think of it down in the comments. 

-Till next time!

My Strange Addiction


I breathe in your colors, the stars that create the constellation of your soul

Then I exhale you in a smoky mixture that intwines the essence of me with the essence of you 

A single touch collides changing us both until we can learn to coincide 

My eyes do not see how our jagged edges cut and tear one another apart 

To me your a sugar candy melting poison on my toungue 

but as I lay dying I’m high off of your sweet decaying plum

If I could stay on that blissful ignorant cloud of you all my life I would 

The not knowing is perfect cause then I see you perfect and there’s no reason for me to want to leave you cause that would be putting my needs before my wants and ohh how I want you 

So I sit here and breathe you in and exhale you and breathe you in again just to taste your licorice heroine scent that keeps me in my bliss my bliss my bliss

Thank you for reading! I had a lot of fun with this poem. I honestly have no idea where this burst from, but I like it so I had to share it! Let me know your thoughts down in the comments!

-Tiana Wolfe 

Stupid Flowers by Brice Maiurro: A Review 

Stupid Flowers by Brice Maiurro 


My Rating: 4/5 stars

Publisher: Punch Drunk Press 

Published: 2017

Recieved: Ecopy from the author in exchange for an honest review. 

Poetry. Brice Maiurro is a poet out of Denver, Colorado who performs regularly at events throughout the front range. His poems have previously been featured in various places including the Denver Post, Birdy Magazine and Suspect Press. In his first collection, Brice Maiurro takes us poem by poem through different life experiences ranging from the mundane to the divine, the funny and the dark. 

Musings: 

So much of this poetry book is absolutely gorgeous, but not in any way that could be remotely considered typical. The poems that resonated most with me were the ones I could never possibly expect and there were many of those. 

I will share with you one of my favorites. 


I don’t know why Bird #2 felt so powerful to me. I think that maybe I was thinking of a person taking the time to play a jazz song in the middle of nowhere for a cow and realizing that the song being played was from a bird. I also think it was from thinking how beautiful it must be that birds sing mindlessly everywhere all the time and most definitely at one time or another for a cow. The thought of a cow approciateing the birds song made me smile and made me hope that somewhere out there a cow is mooing to its family about the bird that sang him or her the most beautiful jazz song they’ve ever heard. 

It was so the stuff like this that made me feel like this book was absolutely genius. Poetry is hard sometimes because it really can be a hit or miss and to keep coming up with a line of amazing poetry is difficult, but Brice certainly did his job. 

Then there were poems like Date With a Beautiful Woman (Where I Turn Into a Were wolf) that really made me go wow. This poem in particular felt like a surreleast and Freudian piece that mixed reality and a dreamlike state to create something that shed light into the figurative mind of a man on a date. Which I completely adored! 

I could go on and on discussing specific poems and what meanings they revealed to me, but I genuinely hope for you to check out this book and see for yourselves how you feel about it. I will be the first to say Inloved this book and the poet in me is now itching for me to write. 

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed my review. If your interesting in reading and/or getting into poetry.. I 100% recommend you read Stupid Flowers. It is such a cool short poetry book. 

-Till next time!

What is Reality? 


“There is no such thing as originality.”

Gone is going towards the thing you’ve always wanted most.

Wind is the thing that feels best when your going against it.

Time is a ticking clock that is there but always forgotten.

Society is a word built and reinforced by a group of people with no individuals. 

A mug is the half-filled cup you sipped one night.  Made empty when my eyes opened and I turned alone in my bed and you were gone again.

Sucks that I was never the person you wanted most. 
Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts on this down in the comments! I don’t know why, but I’m really happy with myself for this one. I hope you enjoyed. 

-Till next time! 

National Poetry Month: Sonnet 130


Shakespeare intrigues me. He intrigues me in the way that if he was alive today I would befriend him and find that he is probably the mixture of a geek and a dork and I would love that. I say this because from my minimal experience of his work has lead me to that conclusion. He seems to lack a bit of tact though he is not without wit and he has a sense of humor about him. 

This Sonnet is the embodiment of who I believe Shakespeare to be. He teases his love in this peace and in no small way I adore him for it. The couples I love tend to tease one another in this sort of way and it feels so warm to me to think that Shakespeare acted in this way as well. 
Thank you all for reading! Let me know your thoughts in the comments. I know this is a bit of a weird post, but I’ve been thinking about mister Shakespeare quite a bit lately and this was one of the things I would think about most. 

Also I’m curious, what are your thoughts on Romeo and Juliet? I haven’t read it, but I’m on the fence about weather or not I should give it a chance. 

-Till next time! 

A Lovers Tale: National Poetry Month


In the veil

Of forgotten nights 

We find love 

In each other’s eyes 

We see our truths 

Past the shore 

Learning of forbidden lore 

Being who we truly are 

Soul to soul 

Heart to heart 

No secrets kept 

No tales untold 

Being together as one 

In the land of old
Thank you so much for reading! I’m feeling inspired by fantasy and dreams and hopes and wonder. I hope you enjoyed this poem! Let me know your thoughts in the comments. 

-Till next time!

An Atypical Mother


She lit herself on fire to give life to her new born babe. The babe cried out screeching in its ashy fate. The young one picked up its head and flew out into the mountain air. She was her mother and her mother was she and though young she knew what she had to do. She danced in the air her alabaster eyes shining embracing the sky about her. She was born to be strong. Born to survive hundreds of years out of sight. 

-Till next time!

National Poetry Month: One of my Favorite Poems


The Two-Headed Calf
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this

freak of nature, they will wrap his body

in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north

field with his mother. It is a perfect

summer evening: the moon rising over

the orchard, the wind in the grass. And

as he stares into the sky, there are

twice as many stars as usual.
Laura Gilpin 

This is a poem I was recently introduced to by a poet that came to my college creative writing class named Linda Dove. This poem captured an essence of something and is so incredibly sad but at the same time beautiful. 

I figured because it is National Poetry Month that I should share this with all of you. I hope it impacts you as it impacted me. 

I would love to hear what you think of it in the comments! 

-Tiana Wolfe

My Life 


The red bird sings at midnight 

Mourning for its beige counterpart 

I talked with my mom then she went silent 

She doesn’t mourn for me anymore 

Why must a woman be feathered in colors? 

Why must a gander be luminous? 

I went home to my bed and closed my eyes 

A good Christian opens the Latch of father’s door 

I don’t mind leaving it closed forever 
I had a mourning dove once 

It’s cooing called to me each days morning

But that cat a pet of my neighbors 

Hated to see life stay alive 

The head was lost from the body 

And I cried I cried I cried  
When I see a bird jump in on concrete I wonder if it wants to die 

It always looks mindless and stupid asking for something playing in a scattered mind 

I also wonder why my heart tightens for it 

Shouldn’t it get what it wants 

but then I think no, humanity must always be God 
I heard the call 

Coah Coo Coo Coo

It’s sharpness tethering me to a memory 

Coah Coo Coo Coo 

I saw a dove with black diamonds 

I stilled to hear its song

Coah Coo Coo Coo  

She stared at me before spiriting away

Somehow she still stays
Their soft drawn out calls sound like laments 

A man makes a phone call to his wife 

A child waits on the doorstep of his school

A stranger smiles 

The call is answered 

The stranger laughs he laughs he laughs
Thanks for reading! This is a bit of experimental poetry for you determine the meaning for yourself. Let me know what you think of it!

-Till next time!