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 

Do you Mind?


Would you mind 

If I laid my head back, 

shed my skin from my bones to create new skin , 

closed my eyes… 

and dreamed? 

Would you mind it if it meant that the first thought I head upon awakening was of me instead of you? (Rest assured thoughts were always of you)

Would you mind if I was selfish for a little while, carving out a place in the sand for my own little ocean to pour into every inch of me that feels exhausted, tired, wasted, and abused? 

Would you mind? 

I hope to God that you mind… 

Our conversations were always a monologue of you

Scratch that, I hope you don’t mind at all, because if you do it’s still about you and all my rose-tinted psychedelic excuses will mean nothing. Nothing. Nothing. 

Do you mind…

Do you care… 

Did you ever care… 

Nevermind, it’s all too f***ing bad 

I’m grabbing my time, my paintbrush and dipping it into the paint of my self-worth. I’m going to paint some beautiful pictures. I’m going to do it all, new paint streaming from the determination of my own selfish care.. you are no longer invited.. lest the paint be dried out and vacuumed away into the shrivel of your second-rate air. 

Thank you all for reading! I don’t know why I almost feel apologetic for all the poetry lately, but it’s something that is healing for me and I need to get it out especially during the times I’m feeling low. Do you Mind is probably one of the most angst filled pieces I’ve written and it’s due to the fact that I am feeling so entirely tired lately. I am in a weird place in time and this is one of the things that helps me on the journey through. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this poem! Let me know your thoughts down in the comments. 

-Till next time!

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! 

Passage 

Tiptoe across creaking stepping stones 

Quiet is a privilege for the wicked 

Taking the hidden route between empty walls

To meet the one with the ticket 

Gone with no light to brighten the path

Nothing to help the young flee 

To see the love the other half 

Of a woman who had never been free

What gossip would ensue if others knew 

Of the two lovers little rendezvous 

Gone would be their hideaway

But no pensive worry would come to pass

When all that matters is a love that would last 

In a time of medieval gain
Thank you all for reading! Let me know you thoughts in the comments.

-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!

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!

National Poetry Month: Poem Prompt Challenge 


I have created a poetry prompt that I will attempt to write a poem for and one that I challenge you to do as well! Thanks to a class I’m taking I’ve taken an interest in some experimental poetry and this prompt is designed to create just that something different via random thought generation. 

Here what you do. Open up 3 different books at random, close your eyes and put your finger on a random word. The three words you find have to find there way in the poem. *Bonus for writing whatever comes to your mind without thinking about it too much* 

Experimental poems form their own intrinsic meaning that will not be understood right away, but that’s ok, and probably a good thing! Let your mind flow! 

The books I choose: Impulse by Ellen Hopkins, Frozen by Melissa De La Cruz, The Dead House by Dawn Kurtagich

The words: Brink, moment, crap

Give me a moment I am on the Brink of Finding someone to listen to my song 

It worries me how it all can flip on it’s head going right and hurrying along

There is something good about misconceptional crap

A turn of the dial and your walking into a room of carpeted glass 

I’m on my way to somewhere, grossly clean wall from here to there. A piece of my flesh gone fading 

The wind always whispers somewhere

Fragments of everything dance across stagnant air

I’ve gone to hear the gossipers ears open to the caviate born from watered error 

Thanks for reading! This is officially one of the weirdest poems I ever wrote, but as unusal as it felt it was a lot of fun. I hope to see some of you participating in this! I know it’s a little strange but that is the point of it. I really want to see how weird things can come out as being. 

-Till next time! 

An Ode To Reading


Turning pages

 to another world

Of pretty and distorted faces 

That you yourself become
Living thousands of lives 

To see a thousand truths 

Sobbing for those who aren’t even real
Running, dancing, and romancing

As someone else 

Cause reality is nothing compared

To the strength of an imagined self
Forever hoping some of its real

That magic truly exists 

Cause anything is possible

Between those infinite pages 
I read on day and night

Because nothing makes me happier 

Then to get to know someone’s mind 

And fall in love a thousand times
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed a poem for one of the greatest joys of my life. Let me know your thoughts in the comments! 

What is your favorite part about reading?

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-Till next time!