In these days of certain madness and uncertain escape, here’s to getting away—getting away from it, with it, in spite of it. And, sometimes, just staying and fighting it. My poem is at Vox Populi today (thanks, Michael Simms!) wp.me/p4xqzG-qBP

What started as a trip to hear two #poet friends read, ended up encompassing so much more - but oh the joy in hearing @josefpadua.bsky.social & Heather Davis read in-person! Great space. Great host. Great night. Standing room only! heatherlynnedavis.com/poetry/ josepadua.com #poetry

In Lancaster, tonight! Two, not one-but TWO awesome poets! @josefpadua.bsky.social I’ll be in attendance & would love to see you there!! (And what a great place for a reading!)

POETRY READING with Heather Davis and Jose Padua This Thursday September 18 at 7pm, Heather and I are reading for the Turning Wheel series at the Fescue Gallery, 140 N. Prince St. in Lancaster. There will be an open mic afterwards.

The struggle to be real is slowly losing its traditional grammar. A new language will have to emerge if we are to have any chance at survival.

I have a poem up at Vox Populi today. Thanks, Michael Simms! wp.me/p4xqzG-qBF

Next week, September 18, Heather and I will be reading for the Turning Wheel series. 7pm at the Fescue Gallery, 140 N. Prince ST, Lancaster, PA.

At this point, as a poet, I'm not speaking truth to power, I am simply trying to get revenge.

Arrested for filming it. And look how excited they all are to get some *action*. 🇺🇸 Watch fascism work.

I avoid those who have no empathy, but I flee from those who have no sense of irony because they're the ones more likely to be sociopaths.

In contemporary society, most of the tools necessary for any sort of pragmatic approach to learning and problem solving have been corrupted, thus paving the way for the large scale smash and grab thievery being practiced by the current regime.

It has always been easier to look for villains and heroes rather than examine the broken and corrupt systems that enable the rise of said villains in the first place, thus leading us to seek comfort in the concept of heroes rather than creating opposing systems.

Yesterday it rained hard AF for almost an hour here. And then, for almost another hour, it rained as hard as the meatloaf scene in Chantal Akerman's Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles.

In capitalism what is disposable is of more value to the system than that which perseveres or persists; thus, a better future depends on us being a perpetual pain in the ass. In other words, teach your children well.

A poem for summer and those days when the air struggles to move.

the absolute best scene in all of cinema... "i am your king!" "i didnt vote for you!" monty python THE HOLY GRAIL youtu.be/Nku7kdol5GY?...

One more Electric Sonnet for National Poetry Month, which was back in April, I know, but here it is now because fuck the capitalist patriarchy.

On the 4th of July, freaked with acid, freaked with jazz. Another of the Electric Sonnets.

"[Trump's] fascism can no longer hide behind empty rhetoric, decorum, ritual. His authoritarian convulsions have revealed how easily checks and balances crumble. His shameless heartlessness is his brand...." www.truthdig.com/articles/mig...

From the sonnets: F the BBB and the rest of you fascists.

Having lived my life as a foreign object, I feel somewhat prepared for what we now face--which, of course, doesn't make it any more pleasant.

Another one of the Electric Sonnets for the new month.

Another from my Electric Sonnets series.

A poem

POETRY IS GIVING Poetry is giving the finger to the biggest guy in the room just to see what happens. -Jose Padua

From the Land of the Super-Sized Big Gulp We are bombs and terrible things happen outside of bombs. -Jose Padua (Inspired by one of Dean Young's lines about clouds)

A poem for the day wp.me/p4xqzG-2VM

Happy to be included in the Best American Poetry for 2025 among poets whose work I have admired for a long time (Bob Hicok, Sharon Olds, David Trinidad, etc), a poet helped make my work more widely known (Billy Collins, who chose me for the 2019 Miller Williams Prize) and more....

Another poem from our years in the country.

For all those standing up against the regime

A poem from about ten years ago, for Sly Stone today.

Another poem, first published in The Canary, #7

A poem for today. The photograph was taken sometime in the 1930s in the Philippines. On the left is Cosme T. Padua and on the right is a friend of his—or perhaps yet another relative I never got to know.

3/6/92 my last day of work at the marketing company. Then I was off to read @ Nuyorican when a crew from Good Morning America was filming. If I'd played my cards right I could have ended up doing Kelly Ripa's job--"Live! with Regis and Jose." And some people think things couldn't possibly be worse.

A poem I wrote back in Front Royal as presented on a broadside by Sami Miranda at the American Poetry Museum.

If I still smoked I'd be smoking a lot these days; if I still bought lottery tickets I'd be buying a lot of lottery tickets, too; and if I were the Prince of Darkness I'd be licking my lips like a demon cat ready to drink it all down, yeah, drink it all down.

A poem for Mother's Day

For today, a poem first published in The Northwest Review (thanks, Michael McGriff)

At times I contemplate the mindless leisure time of the American bourgeoisie in pursuit of what I gather will one day be used as evidence.

Now this is one Marvel movie I may actually look forward to.

From my sonnets, a poem about my branding efforts.

A poem is like a billionaire in space in that you wish it would just go all the way out there and not come back.

A poem first published in Fledgling Rag.

Today's poem and snake forecast....

I suspect that as the years go by they will try to make it so there are less places you'll want to go and more ways for them to make money when you go only to those places where they want you to go through I guess this has actually been happening for a long long time.

One two three four....

A poem for today www.instagram.com/p/DHG2KTEuqk...

A poem about work and remembering.

The world immediately changes whenever I think of cigarettes.