Everyone learns to fly In prison eventually 

Waiting for the cursor
To disappear
Staining the boot strap
There’s life
There’s living your life
It can happen to anyone
Exploring blindness
Money As A Weapon
Eyes over rated
Living the question

Spray painted shapes
On the sidewalk
Car after car
A lonely piece of fruit
On the break table
I’ve cleaned up after men
For most of my life
Beat up card tables
Multiple wall sockets
A folding chair
Flowers grow under us
all the beautiful colors of dirt
Everyone learns to fly
In prison eventually
Not sad
not borne sad

Love is the black paint

Reading and rotting 
The door is open 
Walking the road with no sidewalk 
Any place that you’re not free to leave
Becomes a prison 

Beer cans and buried cable 
Smashed plastic liquor bottles 
Monkey meat 
For all the cut hunters 

Heroes don’t need billboards 
Or special hats 
Statues of molded horses 
Broken phones and sneaky deals
Love is the black paint 

Stop trying to put a hat on it… Sun. Mar. 22 / Soundpony, Tulsa, OK #Schwervonpoetry

Schwervon show poem from Sunday in Tulsa.



Tell a story on your walls
Remove the weight from the balls

Beat your drum proudly
Your true loves will always dance
The advice of grilled cheese
Black swans and tired parrots

David Bowie is a cat I met in Fayetteville
And endless balls of yarn
Dangle from the clouds for him

Stop trying to put a hat on it
Googly eyes bullshit
Get sick of being cool
Stop trying to wrap a scarf
Around this town

Stop settling for room temperature
Heat things up
Beat your chest
With broccoli branches
Swiss chard

Love can bring things to a boil
Maybe you don’t deserve desert

But if there is one thing
On this brown planet
That no one can deny you of
It’s the warmth of love

No deeper shade of red
No paler shape of night
No paternal memory
No surreal exploding T-shirt slogan
Black boot or
Re-verb drenched…

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The scariest ones are the scarredest… Sat.March, 21 / JR’s Lightbulb, Fayetteville, AR, #Schwervonpoetry 

Schwervon! Show Poem from Fayetteville.


Fish in a fish tank
Fish on a plate
Fish in the bathtub
Swimming all around me
Playing by the crooked rules
No wires, no hooks,
And no digging straps
Documentary film making at it’s best
Sitting back
Riding the road
Taking the turns
Swinging from the trees
Not beating the shit out of things
Junk yard wrecking crew
Pull gently and push rigerously
The dogs are afraid of me
Until they get used to my scent
Everything feels so expensive
In chilly evenings
Things get colder
They’re more beautiful now
Connect the spots on the sidewalk
Follow the pathetic that
Reveals itself to you
Always remember
The scariest ones are the scarrdest
Sometimes the best
Conversations at parties
Are with the lampshade.
And the cat

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What goes on behind the backs Of those who write on blackboards…  Friday, March 20, Valley Of The Vapors Festival, Hot Springs,AR #SchwervonPoetry 

Show poem.


Let the spring rain fall on your brain
We don’t have time for the scenic route
We need the sleep more
We are on a mission
No time for cracker barrels
And good will stores
We are here to rock the people
What font is your nightmare?
No time for Mr. Hall’s boring
speech patterns and silly boots.
The reasons behind why we risk
Making fools of ourselves
What goes on behind the backs
Of those who write on blackboards
The art of vandalism
Of mixing paint with words.
The science behind friendship
And fearful speech patterns.
Pay no attention to
The rubber seals
On the side of the highway
The needles in my finger tips
We are here to rock the science
Of love
This may not be you best day
But it doesn’t have to be your worst

(This poem was recited for the first time on Friday…

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Translating the universe

image Twilight suburban stroll at 68 degrees
Sticker balls in the gutter 
Buried cable by the side of the road 
Spray painted grass 
Tons of tiny flags 
Why on earth would anyone 
Choose to walk in circles 
Cardboard campaign signs 
Mocking my desires 
The study of law 
Being happy, being correct
Translating the universe
Dust of this planet 
Excavation in process 

I’m starting to believe  The more expensive wine is better

Ground mouth.
I’m starting to believe 

The more expensive wine is better

The papers write themselves 

Numb pinkies

Wake up every morning 

And summon the assistants

Listen to the computer glitches 

Unsweetened dreams 

Dobro in the sun 

Alone time

Walking memories 

The best  ways to help 

Me overcoming Like 

Pictures other people take 

Mixing the wind of 

Tools to break and fix 

To reveal