Cruelty can’t disguise itself as leadership for long.

Halos everywhere

The old guard in my town told me that I should move if I don’t like it here. So I immediately took their advice and I started dancing. Now, I dance on the cracked sidewalks, where the weeds don’t ask permission to be flowers.

art should roam untamed, not be led by tethered hands — who decides its path? art was never meant to march in straight lines, to salute patriotically, or to bow for its supper. it belongs to the wild ones, the question-askers, the dreamers who refuse to color inside tired lines.

This morning I was sent a pretty stinging message from a poet/writer whom I have never met, but whose work I really respect. They offered (not so kindly) that I am hurting the genre by writing in the way I do. Here was my response: open.substack.com/pub/johnroed...

our breath keeps our hearts from time traveling to the storms behind us or to the unwritten future. stay with me here in the present. there is so much wonder for you to witness. anchor yourself to the unfolding now with every single breath you take.

don’t let anyone tell you that empathy is weakness. having a heart for those less fortunate is a perpetual genesis. it transforms the cold dark universe. it creates new hope. it allows for growth. its sews us together. it’s an unbreakable circle of kindness. empathy is everything we came here for.

An open poem to the Wyoming Legislature that they will probably never read.

(an open poem to closed hearts) when you hate someone else because they are different than you you are unknowingly hating on the very Architect of Creation itself

Wait. I thought Wyoming was already the Greenland of America.

I wished on a falling star on New Year’s Eve that this 2025 is the year you become authentically yourself without a single hint of fear. Explore your heart. Find the beautiful weirdo inside of you and wake them up. This is the year of becoming who you’ve always been meant be.

Hope tastes just like gingerbread

let’s create a master schedule where we can take turns giving up on hope for a day so we all don’t do it at once and when it’s your day, just let me know what you need if you want, i can bring you a hot drink, the softest of blankets, and a funny movie we can watch

I want my skin wrinkling and warping because of wonderment and not worry. As I age, I don’t want to be remembered for how effortlessly I fretted over things I can’t control. I want my legacy to be how I learned to let go of all my dead leaves. Let me grey with a grateful heart.

Subscribe to my little Substack. Come for the poetry - stay for the *cake! (*there is no cake) open.substack.com/pub/johnroed...

Amazon’s AI review recap of my new book has entered the chat. At least I’m not floofy…

#poetry #art

Hello Bluesky. Let’s normalize human connection once more.