Tag Archives: spoken word

I got weird in public, yet again.

In case you missed it:

My blast of weirdness from the Ghost Parachute reading the other week.

Lighting was a challenge, but I can’t control everything, golblammit.

And the drunk in the other room doesn’t help, but it was at a bar so there’s no fighting that.



I Performed in a Tattoo Shop.

tom-lucas tatshow
Recently I performed at a tattoo shop with several other talented writers.
Here is the evidence. Enjoy.

A recent live reading.

Last week I was honored to read along with the other finalists (and winner) of the There Will Be Words 2015 series.

I hope you have time to check it out!





A hammer to a nail.
A fist to a door.
The finger to a trigger.


The guy overheard at the bar.
Sharing his last conquest.
Banged her, he says.

Bravado, ego, the art of bragging.
I’ve little time for this nonsense.
I’m in the corner booth.
A little off. A bit fuzzy.
Busy analyzing what’s wrong with the world
And the people in it.



One to bookend the first.
The slam of a fucking huge meteor
Somewhere in the South Pacific
Following by a cleansing wash of sea water
Across it all creation
Drowning us and freeing nature of our tyranny.


Save me from having to hear another word
From the douchebag
Holding court
Five yards away.

Photo Credit: fpsurgeon via Compfight cc

Family History

It’s my understanding that
I have one hell of a family history
That’s not too difficult to believe
Probably true for most.

From all over Europe
Viking North
Mediterranian South
And many stops in between.

There’s been much love
Conducted across the water
and that love trickled down
from Duke to Lord to whatnot.

There’s a Von in there somewhere
And someone who worked
For the Hapsburgs
And some other sketchy types as well.

I once asked
If we’re descended from such greats
Have you heard of the Great Depression?

My father loved to regale
Such histories and myths
Your grand so-and-so knew Jesus!
Now that’s hyperbole.

The Greek line has been
The most frustrating
From Sparta, I was told
Fierce. Warrior. Blood.

Oh, how I loved that
A cult of manly men
Brutal with sword and spear
I could almost feel the DNA.

That little chestnut
Kept me going for years.
No matter the beast
I could slay it. Spartan.

Then I learned
It wasn’t Sparta but
Crete called home.
Asterion, my brother.

Not nearly as much
Fun a boast
But there’s that labyrinth
And the bullhead.

As are most things
Less impressive and shiny when
Scrubbed down by truth
But useful nevertheless.

If you are ever lost
Keep making right turns
Eventually you’ll find
The way out of the maze.

I learned that in Crete.

An Exquisite Toxicity


Acid enhancement
Alcohol fueled inspiration
Sweating out

Reality unconfirmed
Reality deniable
Catalysts force action
Not action unforced

These things bring Evil
These things bring Good
An ego conflagration

Judgment individual
A mirror to one’s self
The court of the soul
The stains of sin
The sport of cleansing
The doing
The duty

This chemical attack might
Bring wisdom
Most likely bring injury
Maybe scars
And certainly

Beautiful corpses
Under disco balls
Smoke machines

This fog is profit
Experience births fury
A trip to remember
A vacation to fear
The torture
Of personal rebellion.

So bring the attack
Attempt control
This sheep will not be shamed
This one will not yield
This world is my world
And beyond your law
Your judgment

Beyond thought
Beyond custom
Beyond religion
Beyond the filth
Beyond the gods

In the ruins of the taboo
With pounding music
In the deep dark

I live.

Photo Credit: Lotus Carroll via Compfight cc

The Hamster Wheel of Obsession

Sometimes I think

This is as good as it will ever get
I talk too much
I don’t listen
I am not worthy
I am underappreciated
I could lose some weight
I look just fine
I am not smart enough
I am not talented enough
I am wasting everyone’s time
People secretly feel sorry for me
That I am a terrible friend
I am a lousy husband
I am lacking the tools
I am successful
I am not successful at all

Sometimes I think

I don’t get it
My genius is lost in a sea of screaming voices
I will never learn
I have made a serious of bad choices
I have painted myself into a corner
It will never get any easier
I will never fill the hole
I will always want what I can’t have
I want too much
I want too little
I don’t work hard
I’m not reaching my potential

Sometimes I think
I should have done more
I should have said more
It’s too late
I am tired
I missed the boat
Or bus or train or whatever
It could end today and that would be fine
There’s more to do than I have time for
I’m broken
I’m damaged freight
It’s time to suck it up
It’s time to grow up
Victims create their situation
It’s beyond my control
That my list of worries will only grow


Sometimes I think

I think too much