stand up
stare down
step out
like when you opened
their book
their jar
their box
and released
their words
their poison
their power.
the diffused truth
stilled tongues
stalled spaces
sat asses on stools
and you
your handhold 
on a comet.
your planted heels,
your leaned back 
and pitch forward,
your allowance of
oxygen meet flame,
you watched 
head consume tail,
and you
the clay 
of your core,
not man made,
of mother earth
and her hope 
in your grip.

march art crawl

March Art Crawl is an invitation to create, collaborate, and dialogue about creativity with new collaborators.

Creatives will exchange creative pieces during the month of March and co-choose their delivery method, online or off.

Creatives will be matched up randomly by @chrisjcluff and can share whatever medium they wish to explore.

Please contact chrisjcluff@gmail.com for further details.

You can sign up to participate on this form.


noticing deep coiled feels
pent up behind words made
almost real as waking steals
my attention. no sun rising or
bird song teasing will ease
the feelings that my art is
moving winding grooving in a 
mind not yet lit up. in 
and away from a spark in the 
falling dark thoughts are
dualling fueling pens and 
calling in a surprisingly
silent direction. my actions
of detection spring from
nothing noting herding
grabbing new wording that
preceded my thoughts - gotta
write something.


i used to write poems on
paper believing that
space to be safer than
leaving words, undefended, 
out in the wide open,
naively thinking and hoping
that locking my thoughts in a 
journal is better than painting
wall murals.
to stand before my words, 
take steps back, and to still not
see my source forces me 
to accept that I am also
someone standing beside someone
who also is wondering where
my words had begun.