I was not born to be small, not carved from hush, not designed to disappear.   I will not acquiesce, or negotiate who I am with you.   I will not barter my skin, trade soft-spokeness for your comfort.   I will not reshape my words to fit your blueprint.   I will not shrink, smooth, hush, or squeeze into the closet of your design.   I will not silence myself, not for you, not for the world, not for the ghost in the mirror who once begged to be small.   I will not unbecome to make you whole, apologize for taking up air, for burning too bright, for loving too loud.   I will not dim my shine, soften my blaze, or make my survival a polite anecdote.   I am unapologetic, unbargained, beautifully broken, And untouched by your demands.

I let the sound wash over me Waves on the beach Moving me with their melodies My hips sway to the bass Pulsing through my core That purple feel gives me chills Serpentine movements flowing Harmony, peace, and love Things we can believe in Strawberries sweet and drippy To be someone is that better Than just being alive? Harsh realities set in Once that trombone stops But maybe, just maybe That music that connected us And the feelings it brought Will make these beliefs come to pass

(From his book: Silence in the Quiet of Peace) I remember being small, like a fish inside a bowl. The world outside was inaccessible; for all I knew it was just a vast land of nothingness. No rivers or lakes. No mountains  or hills. No life outside of my tiny bowl. That i what it feels like to be a child living in a war-torn country. Treading outside of my bowl meant certain death. If it was not from the shelling or the snipers, it was from land mines or collapsing infrastructure. During my infancy I did not know how the war came to be, and I was not mired in politics, either, so I had to assume that my parents always knew what was best. I did not know that my country was desperately vying to break free from communist rule. I did not know the difference between Serbs and Croats and Bosniaks. I did not know what “ethnic cleansing” meant. I did not know that while my parents struggled to keep me and my siblings alive, many parents in concentration camps were being provided weapons an...

 

these trials and  tribulations befalling so many nations all of them can be summed up with some simple vocabulary vanity gluttony and greed to have much more than you'll ever need these are the things that tear nations apart pitting each other against some fictitious other some unknown invisible enemy slowly invading your home yet all along while they sing this song they are slowly charming their way into your hearts and your minds subtly, secretly planting their mines waiting for the day when it all breaks loose so they can rob you of everything while you hang by their noose

  They say "slow and steady wins the race," But it’s awfully hard to lessen my pace While the rest of the world throws mud in my face With the ruts that they’ve made in this human rat race. We speed through life and never see The green grass nor the colored leaves. Why must I always be so slow It seems that I can never go To the places that I long to show My memory so it can grow Why do we always run so fast Leaving almost no time to relish the past? All we can see is straight ahead With no time left to keep our brains fed. We run and run and wear down the tread A foot race until the time we’re dead. But it seems that I don’t mind being slow Because in my mind I truly know, That in my    life I have only one foe: The hurried turtle has got to go! I’ll slow down my pace and take it all in Because surely I will be here again. In another time or another place I’ll rejoice in the fact that I slowed down my pace. Enjoying this visions in front of my face And learning from the ...

Make a list, darling  Of things you love I'll help you burn it In the backyard Here's a lighter What do your thoughts Look like in your head You know you have to Let them go If they're things You truly care about For whatever reason Arbitrary, but that's the rule Apparently it's proven So tell me dearest What are these things That are extensions of Your soul Hopes dreams desires The things that validate The person you are Flowers kitties seahorses Dreamcatchers and sundresses Books and fantasy tales You and me Let's burn it all Burn the world And like phoenixes Rise from the ashes and flames Whole, untouched, made new.

 

 

 Louis Toliver Jr. reads his poem, "Creativity" for the Louisiana Words Tour at Beausoleil Books in Lafayette, LA.

  Gabi Miller reads her poem, "Butterfly," for the Louisiana Words Tour at Beausoleil Books in Lafayette, LA.

    Gabi Miller reads her poem, "Starry Night," for the Louisiana Words Tour at Beausoleil Books in Lafayette, LA.

Louis Toliver Jr. reads his poem, "American Like Me," for the Louisiana Words Tour at Beausoleil Books in Lafayette, LA.

 

  Our future is but past lies I write these words in the dark  The dream of every child cries Our angels will never hark  I lost my due unto you  Your passion I shall sue Your heart drunk on gin We will never love again Suicide veins wonder:  Will I die from this ponder? Bending words is your task  You can take off hell's mask  Count backwards from ten Your heart I shall not win

  Remember me, the raven in your window A hardened stare into your eyes With lightening flashing to set you blind What you saw, no longer there Behold these images of native gods Your test so now begins Bringing a rush to shake your soul And leave you longing more Now fear sets in, it clouds you mind Severing all of your senses In one swift hit, brought to your knees What you were, no longer are

A peculiar fourth room has appeared in my three bedroom abode. High ceilings Higher than any ceiling in the house Perfectly pristine whitewashed gallery walls The largest window one can imagine Stretching from floor to ceiling  Wide as an ocean’s horizon  Revealing the  lushest  greenery and the bluest skies.  I am meant to show masterpieces here.   But in one of the corners  o f the perfectly pristine whitewashed gallery walls  i s an ugly patch of dirt. Dirt darker than charred coal.  And the dirt is crawling And multiplying.  With their spindly legs and dangly antennae  Vermin covered in filth and willingly ready to spread their germs Scuffing the perfectly pristine whitewashed gallery walls.   But I have to move on,  I have a gallery to exhibit. Smile and act as  if  nothing is wrong. Come.   Enjoy the show.   Enjoy the artwork hanging  Upon the perfectly pristine whitewashed gallery walls.

 

 

 

When I was in college a barely adult youth, strange men a circular ellipse around me placed their heavy hands on my temple and prayed in twisted tongues like at the Tower of Babel Casting out the  Demon of Homosexuality.  I like to think on that day,  the Demon was free’d.  And he formed this  gayer than gay version of me.  Maybe he escaped the Bible Belt  and found himself in  New York or San Francisco. Free from being Oppressed.  Repressed.  Dogmatized.  Free from the thoughts of  self harm.  Free from trying so hard to be  someone they’re not meant to be.  While I mourn for my youth,  it started over when I escaped the spiritual enclave the cult.  Doesn’t make me an atheist. Because that in itself is a religion. But I no longer converse with the Creator. Or walk in the Holy Spirit.   I have embraced my demons And that brings me peace.  God loves all of His children except you.

It feels like we’re going solo at the world doesn’t it? Marching like ants for the queen. What does  she do, but give birth to more drones? Is that all I am? Just a drone? But I have a soul. And  maybe an ant does too. But I am capable of marching out of this colony and into the big world. I roam in America solo. Chasing my dreams. That’s most any of us really have. But still we are all  solo. We think we can come together on the outside without coming together on the inside.   That’s where we all spend most of our time, on the inside.  I dance in Louisiana solo. I know I’m smarter than the things I hear, but still I dance. I know ignorance means me no harm. It is here where my life is connected but I know there a big, big world out there. I know.  Louisiana lives in the United States solo. It’s full of food, culture, & soul. Just a foot that the rest of the country stands on though. But still, I want to be solo like Louisiana because I want to dan...

Once upon a time there was a kid named Jimmy, and he was just an average kid. When he was seven, his mom took him to the carnival and insisted he go on the roller coaster with her. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes and whispered, "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can," but he couldn't because he was afraid of heights, and his mom understood, and she let him be.  When he was nine, he fell in love with a girl named Alice, and he asked her for a kiss, and she allowed it. He closed his eyes, pursed his lips and whispered, "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can," but he couldn't because he was too nervous, and Alice understood and smiled because she thought it was cute. She kissed him on the cheek and let him be.  When he was ten he had to recite a speech in front of the whole class. He prepared his notes, approached the podium and took a deeр breath, whispering, "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can," but he was frozen with ...

  The Fall 2025 season of Louisiana Words starts Sunday, October 26th! Get ready for new content, several live readings from the Louisiana Words Tour, & the announcement of Louisiana Words Allstars 2025! Stay tuned and please visit LouisianaWords.com! 

  We are grateful for the wonderful time we had for the Louisiana Words Tour (Lafayette - Baton Rouge - New Orleans)! Look for the showcase of all these writers this Fall 2025 season on Louisiana Words!

Saturday, August 30th: Baton Rouge - George’s Place @ 5:30pm Meet the cast of Louisiana Words - Baton Rouge: Lance Wise,  Nick Perere, & Sinisa Jancan.

 

 

The Louisiana Words Tour is hosted by Louis and Michael! They will be joined by 9 writers featured across 3 Louisiana cities: Lafayette, Baton Rouge, & New Orleans (in that order) for 3 live shows! Each show is one hour including open mic opportunities.  Yes! That means even if you are not a featured writer for these shows, you can still contact us or just show up to read! Each show is recorded so you will be able to show your friends and family! So, come join a supportive community and help make history with us! Here’s our schedule for the Louisiana Words Tour: Friday, August 29th, we are in Lafayette at Cavalier House Books @ 6:30pm. The cast of Louisiana Words Live: Lafayette is Madison Elizabeth Holland, Gabi Miller, & Ted A. Richard. Saturday, August 30th, we are in Baton Rouge at George’s Place @ 5:30pm. The cast of Louisiana Words Live: Baton Rouge is Lance Wise, Nick Perere, & Sinisa Jancan! Sunday, August 31st, we are in New Orleans at Allways Lounge & Caba...

 

  My father's silence spoke volumes to me. It never mattered what we did when I was with him, just that I was with him.  Over the years, she who spawned me would shout at me in a curse, "You'll be just like your father!!" Well, she was right in so many ways. I didn't/don't put up with her bullshit. In fact, I haven't seen or spoken to her since my step-father's funeral, 10+ years ago. I don't plan on speaking to her ever again, much less attend HER funeral. Fuck paying for it. Yes, I am like my father. However, in 2 things I am different. I will not die at 58, by my son "adjusting" my morphine drip, because I don't have the strength to take care of it myself. In fact, I plan to live to twice that age, that I might "erase" those things which she adulterated.  I held my father as he died. I told him all of the things that he "couldn't" say to me. I told him how much I had and will ALWAYS love...

Burning from within, My sin Is rubbing out on you; Twisting coils That scratch desire, My eyes Are haunting you beneath My caressing lust; My savage soul tears away Your inhibition; Come to me my sadist, Lick my pain And free my thirst; I kneel for you to take for good My innocence.

  Tone it down   for a minute.   I don't want to lose   me in your love.   Too much sap   is bad for the blood.   So much of you   has me soaring above.   I can't figure   you out. If you are Gelato   or White Widow.   I don't need to talk   when I'm with you. Just lay on your chest   like my favorite pillow.     Before I float away,   keep me grounded.   Before I lose my way,   keep your arms surrounded.    What more can I say? Not ready for a love unbounded.     One piece of   brick crumbled.   Give me   space to breathe. Just want to soak in this moment   and peer at you before your love   has me wreathed.     I enjoy gushers,   every leaking morsel. You have me gushing wide open,   I must admit. I’m cautious and skittery, but you-...