Louis Toliver Jr. reads his short story, “Betsy Ross, the American Flag, & Me,” for the Louisiana Words Tour 2025 at George's Place in Baton Rouge, LA.

  Nick Perere reads his poem, “The Harvest,” for the Louisiana Words Tour 2025 at George's Place in Baton Rouge, LA.

Noah Tapper reads his poem, “Link in Bio” for the Louisiana Words Tour 2025 at Allways Lounge & Cabaret in New Orleans, LA.  

 

It's cloudy outside. The world is delineated in every detail. Every little shadow and line is accented sharply by the ominous thunder rumbling across the belly of the sky. The bits of color in the flowers reach but cannot leave much of a mark on the pervading gloom. The inside of the house is warm and well-lit, peaceful and serene. The laughter of carefree children echoes down through the centuries of its wooden frame. Hospitable, smelling of a home-cooked meal, one gazes through the glowing panes of glass and can only conjure memories of rustling skirts covered by wide aprons, full-chested mothers sweeping and elbow-deep in dough, scolding their children and wiping away their tears. The house now stands abandoned and empty, only dust and cobwebs covering the windows. Long ago and far away, I recognized the nostalgia of the times that came before as I look down the neon street, the first drops starting to hurtle down from the dark heavens above.

  I had a rough night. I don’t have a friend nor family in sight. I’m driving home, tank almost empty. I feeling pretty low, but I’m a little high. I come behind an ambulance, a woman is on a stretcher inside. She looks like she is barely holding on. Oxygen mask. Low breathing. Paramedics in panic. My heart cries for her and envies her. Tonight, one of us is going to hell and one of is not. I should have just driven around the ambulance, it was a four-lane. But, I just wanted to cruise behind at speed that pulled along like an umbilical cord. Attached. Because, in that moment me and that woman, both, were on our way home.

 

 

  Let's express ourselves! Literacy helps free the mind! Literacy helps build community! Our voices matter more then ever! LouisianaWords.com is the home of Louisiana's LGBTQIA+ writers and our allies! We help market new and seasoned writers for FREE! Just submit your work and we’ll get you into our content rotation! You may submit your content to louisianawords@gmail.com or you may contact us through social media! Our Spring 2026 season of new Louisiana Words content started Sunday, April 26th! As of January 2025, Louisiana Words has officially become a nonprofit organization! So, we are looking to share the good news with a few live shows across the state of Louisiana. We are planning a Louisiana Words tour to showcase local LGBTQIA+ writers and spread the word about Louisiana Words, LLC . The show is free! The dates will be Friday, July 3rd – Sunday, July 5th. We will be visiting Lafayette, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans in that order.   Friday, July 3rd: Lafayette - Ca...

  How did I get here? When I look at the blackness behind my eyes I am brought to a different place. The blackness and the color of my present perception are equally familiar. It is as if I am made up of three oscillating moments Playing the music of a life that is mine and others. The blackness keeps the time of my most beautiful and colorful moments So vivid in the blackness The current moment is filled with color and question It is the most real moment But the most uncertain It is the most confusing moment.... How did I get there? A more comforting moment rests in the future It flows to whatever rhythm I desire It is driven by the two moments of blackness and reality All three moments working together make up the movement of the mind.

In between the world and my sanctuary I get stuck in traffic. Just want to hear you call me baby. Just want to know you still exist and that nothing has come between you and me in the last couple of hours… but space and time. Nothing else can separate us. I don’t like to make things too simple. I don’t tend to ignore the more symbolic emotions. Nothing is taken lightly. You are more to me than a lover. I want a full heart from you…a full mind filled with ideas and poetry and art and arguments and understanding. With you. In between the world and my sanctuary I get lonely. Mostly because I forget that I’m not alone. I listen and sing along with my poets on disk. Sit there and remember where I was and recognize where I am. What I had and what I have. And I have to smile. Even with tears in my eyes. In between the world and my sanctuary, I am compelled to make myself available and open for people who have no sanctuary of their own. It complicates life, but gives me a purpose. I’m not just...

 

 

 

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

  Louis Toliver Jr. reads his fiction piece, "Two Virgins Don't Make a Right," for the Louisiana Words Tour at Cavalier House Books in Lafayette, LA.

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

  Louis Toliver Jr. reads his flash fiction, "Perfect," for the Louisiana Words Tour at Cavalier House Books in Lafayette, LA.

Our family needs you The country too Stop running away  Please do stay  Take responsibility  For our simplicity  I'm your little boy crying Holding in my pain dying  Papa love us strong  Don't make us wait too long  Papa please do preach  Let your heart teach 

“Why we gots to read this old stuff? The way they talks is stupid.” Teaching Shakespeare is quite an endeavor Especially, to students who read hardly ever But breaking down the fear of Shakespeare Is only possible if students persevere And once they realize they can connect They are enchanted by Romeo and Juliet Immortal words cast a spell And their interest I cannot quell They are miffed by how much they delight In one of literature’s greatest plights Slowly, they begin to see literature’s mission Which is to communicate the human condition After each day’s reading, they begin to understand The power of words written by hand I look forward to each day’s tomorrow Because students would say, “Parting is such sweet sorrow” I observe how the student who said, “The way they talks is stupid” Now departs the class and into the herd And he walks with a new respect for the power of a word.

 

 

 

  As the light shunned upon my face, The blessings of my life unveiled upon my brain. My soul began to ache with love from above, His mercy ever so abundantly given to me, Shed upon my twenty years on Earth, His grace stretched with his loving Arms of protection. I thought nothing about the world, but Rather being closer to Him, For the things of this world will inevitably Pass away, like a dream that one can’t Recall in the morning, you are left With nothing. There was no need for me to procrastinate, No angst or fear, except the fear of Him In thy soul, He will and has delivered Me from anguish, and destruction of my soul. Do not worry or dwindle your thumbs about The ending of your self-centered lives, but I urge you to take a step back and listen to God. He’s speaking, you should listen, Open your ears, the trumpets will soon Sound through the nations, open your ears, Your hearts, don’t worry about the End, Just listen to his voice, He is here, Prepare yourselves for Eternity, ...

Sadness; Emptiness; A path of destruction. Tiredness; Sickness; A cloud of delusion. Ignorance; Laughter; Patching up the whole. Happiness; Joy; The strength of every goal.

 

 

Noah Tapper reads his poem, "Designer" for the Louisiana Words Tour at Allways Lounge & Cabaret in New Orleans, LA.

    Paige McRae reads her creative fiction, "Liminality" for the Louisiana Words Tour at Allways Lounge & Cabaret in New Orleans, LA.

Touch my words Each consonant is bliss You must have heard  My vowels are a kiss The sound of my voice Turns you on There is no choice All inhibitions are gone Undress my syllables  Don't be shy  We aren't criminals My passion makes us fly Hang on to every verse A trance behind my eyes This isn't a curse My words tell no lies

We live in effortless echo chambers Plagued by the Algorithm Almighty Vacant and void of our pious prayers The Pendulum of Hate is swinging free. And it’s tipped by the clouded Clementine Right in front of our alert open eyes. I wish we could push past this wretched time While they’re ignoring the Unwanteds’ cries. Let’s wear the disguise of racist rich men. Walk amongst them like we are fucking free. While they’re not scared of our pigmented skin, Let’s gossip gaily and spill the spoiled tea. Just or unjust, we’re dealt a cruel fate. Write freely now, for it may be too late.

    Let's express ourselves! Literacy helps free the mind! Literacy helps build community! Our voices matter more then ever! LouisianaWords.com is the home of Louisiana's LGBTQIA+ writers and our allies! We help market new and seasoned writers for FREE! Just submit your work and we’ll get you into our content rotation! You may submit your content to louisianawords@gmail.com or you may contact us through social media! Our Spring 2026 season of new Louisiana Words content starts Sunday, April 19th! As of January 2025, Louisiana Words has officially become a nonprofit organization! So, we are looking to share the good news with a few live shows across the state of Louisiana. We are planning a Louisiana Words tour to showcase local LGBTQIA+ writers and spread the word about  Louisiana Words, LLC . The show is free! The dates will be Friday, July 3rd – Sunday, July 5th. We will be visiting Lafayette, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans in that order.   Friday, Jul...

Louisiana Words will return with new content on Sunday, April 26th, 2026! Please enjoy going through our collection of writing and live readings on LouisianaWords.com!

 

 

  J. Michael Norris reads his creative nonfiction, "Unspoken History," for the Louisiana Words Tour at George's Place in Baton Rouge, LA.

  Siniša Junčan reads from his book, Silence in the Quiet of Peace, for the Louisiana Words Tour at George's Place in Baton Rouge, LA.

  She Struggles She goes back and forth In and out of emotions Awake one minute Dreaming away the day In the next A paroxysm one moment Rocking steady in the next Its all crap one minute And then the world Is beautiful again She struggles but At least she's not afraid To say what she feels When she feels it It may be all crap today But tomorrow she will be okay

  Everything has a beginning and an end. It is one of the very first lessons that we are taught as chil- dren, especially when our parents needed an excuse to deprive us of TV time. The beginning of the war goes as far back as 1989, when the nationalist parties started rising and competing for dominance. “There were always three,” my father told me one day. “Two parties against one. It was always the second aligning with the strongest party to fight the third.” After the death of Tito, Slobodan Milošević ascended to Serbian presidency and attempted to consolidate power by centralizing the state, but many of the republics moved against him to loosen his grip. After many disagreements among delegates, four of the six republics sought to gain independence, Slovenia being the first of them. Backed by Germany and the Vatican, Slovenia strategi- cally prepared for Yugoslavia’s ineluctable retaliation. From June 27, 1991, throughout July 7, 1991, Slovenia skirmished with the Yugoslav Peop...

 

 

 

Grandmother visited me in a dream last night Wearing a pink jump suit and a curious smile Driving a pink Cadillac convertible Her sweatband accented her beehive do She drove by in slow soundless motion Her words were inaudible But I heard her She said, “Relax…” A pink jump suit Clouds and a Cadillac Taking it easy Happy to know she likes her new place.

  (From his book: Silence in the Quiet of Peace ) Nights are different during the war. Without the power to light the street lamps everything is darker. People are mere silhouettes sifting about under the moonlight. They move erratically for fear of snipers, whose line of sight is obscured by the darkness—a saving grace for those foraging for food. The buildings come alive with flickering lights from candles and lanterns. You can see the shadows of children playing, adults cooking whatever they could scrounge up during the daylight over a dying flame, and sometimes you can see people reading. These small things brought some normalcy to an otherwise abnormal situation. Occasionally there would be a scream in the distance or nearby. Someone was killed or injured by a sniper, or a shell, and then the lights recede, and the peoples’ silhou- ettes disappear into the absolute darkness that held an unwavering grip on the city. There’s something about staring at a burning flame in the midd...