There’s a few specific energy types that draw me to people. A spark that’s rooted in authenticity and openness. I absolutely love being around those people who are genuinely open-minded. You know the ones who accept differences that aren’t choices or are choices and are not harmful. They meet diversity with curiosity, not judgment. These are people see the world through many lenses and let everyone coexist without needing to change them.
Real Recognize Real
I gravitate toward those who are real, who don’t hide behind polished masks or social expectations. They stand by what they believe, share what they do when they wish, and show who they are without pretense. There’s honesty in their humor, humility in their successes, and integrity in their failures.
Courageous
The kind of person who is unafraid to defend others and stands up for what’s right always catch my attention. They choose justice over popularity and empathy over convenience. They always say something when silence would be easier, and their courage is quietly inspiring.
Life Experiences
I admire those with life experience, not just in years, but in lessons learned. Emotional depth, mental health awareness, self-care practices, education, and navigating trials that shape resilience all are traits that call me to someone. These people carry wisdom, not arrogance, and offer insight without judgment.
Judgement Free
Non-judgmental energy is magnetic. People who allow others to live freely, without imposing their own limitations or biases, and create space for connection. Always promoting others freedom to be themselves. These are all rare and beautiful gifts in friendship.
Creativity
Creative minds who wish to share, network, collaborate, and uplift one another. These people are the lifeblood of indie communities. They are the people who dream together, build together, and celebrate each other’s successes without envy.
Adventurers
I adore others who wander into the wild, the hikers and campers who use the outdoors not as escape but as a reset. Others like me who embrace spontaneous trips, respect nature and practice Leave No Trace. Finding joy in shared adventures. They provide a calmness and honesty while navigating trails with patience and respect for the earth.
Finally, last but not least those who share my rockhounding, crystal, witchy, and spiritual interests. Whether we’re combing riverbeds for stones, meditating under trees, or trading ritual tips, these connections are grounded, playful, and meaningful.
Why These People Matter
Being around people like this is grounding and expansive at once. They challenge, teach, inspire, and nurture. They bring a balance of adventure and depth, creativity and wisdom, acceptance and courage. They make life feel like something to explore fully, not just endure.
When I step into their presence, I feel safe, seen, and energized. These are the people who make ordinary days feel like discoveries, who turn the mundane into magic, and who remind me why connection, respect, and authenticity matter more than anything else.
If you’re a person who possesses any of the traits above our discord server for artists, readers, authors, poets, and all other respectful creatives and creators we would love to have you!
There is always one task on my to-do list that survives every day intact. It migrates from planner to planner, untouched but never forgotten. It is not writing, creating, or even finishing the work itself. Marketing is a monster that haunts me. Photographing products. Writing sales captions. Uploading physical items to my digital storefronts. Prompting people to look, buy, or choose my work.
For a creative business built on handmade objects, poetry, and intention, this resistance is not accidental. It is structural. It lives at the intersection of vulnerability, capitalism, and self-worth. This post is an honest look at why marketing is the task that never gets done. And why that does not mean failure.
The Work I Can Do vs the Work That Stops Me
I can make things.
I can hike for hours to find stones, clean them, shape them, and polish them. Then I can turn them into objects meant to be held.
I can write fifty poems in less days. I can design books, zines, rituals, and tools for reflection.
But when it is time to: • post photos, videos, or content
• adjust pitches
• write product descriptions
• decide pricing
• post sale content
• upload or update listings
My brain locks.
This is not because I do not believe in the work. It is because marketing requires a different kind of exposure. Creation asks me to speak. Marketing asks me to persuade.
Why Marketing Feels So Much Harder for Creatives
Marketing your own work collapses the distance between who you are and what you are selling. There is no buffer. No corporate logo to hide behind. No separate sales department. It is just you, asking strangers to exchange money for something that came from your hands, your time, your inner world.
For many creatives, especially indie makers and minority voices, this triggers several pressures at once:
• Fear of being seen as self-promotional instead of sincere
• Fear of pricing work honestly and being judged
• Fear of rejection that feels personal, not professional
• Exhaustion from learning platforms designed for volume, not care
The system rewards loudness and speed. Handmade work is slow. Poetry is quiet. Marketing does not respect that by default.
The Photography Problem No One Talks About
Photographing physical items sounds simple until you do it.
Light matters. Backgrounds matter. Consistency matters. Algorithms reward polish. Handmade objects resist uniformity. Every stone is different. Every piece has its own shape, reflection, and mood.
By the time the camera comes out, I have already done the hardest part, the making. The photography feels like a second unpaid job layered on top of the first. When the images are not perfect, my brain whispers that the work itself is not enough.
That whisper is a lie, but it is loud.
Uploading Is Emotional Labor
Uploading a product is not just clicking buttons.
It is choosing categories that do not quite fit.
It is compressing meaning into bullet points.
It is deciding how much your time is worth in a field that consistently undervalues creative labor.
Each listing becomes a small act of self-advocacy. Doing that repeatedly, especially while managing chronic stress, neurodivergence, or limited energy, turns a simple task into an emotional drain.
This Is Not Procrastination, It Is Friction
Calling this procrastination misses the truth.
The task does not get done because it contains too many invisible costs. Emotional exposure. Decision fatigue. Platform literacy. Self-doubt. Capitalist pressure wrapped in friendly UX.
When the cost outweighs the available energy, the task stays on the list.
And I do eventually get the background noise and tasks completed. Just not at the rate that I wish to or, honestly, that I need to.
Reframing the Unfinished Task
The problem is not that I am bad at marketing.
The problem is that marketing was never designed for people who build slowly, feel deeply, and create with intention.
Instead of forcing productivity shame, I am learning to: • batch marketing when energy allows • reuse content across platforms • accept imperfect photos • write descriptions like letters, not ads • let the store grow at a human pace
Progress does not have to look aggressive to be real.
The to-do list item that never gets done is not a personal failure. It is a signal. It points to where systems clash with values, where creativity meets commerce without a translator.
I am still making the work. I am still building the archive. I am still here.
Marketing will happen, slowly, imperfectly, in ways that respect my capacity. And that is enough to keep going.
Email submissions to our Quarterly to Poeaxtryspoetryprism@gmail.com I am ALWAYS taking submissions for the next issue!
What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?
When people ask what I enjoy doing most in my leisure time, the simple answer sounds scattered. I hike. I rockhound, craft with what I find. Practice spirituality, and write poetry or even stories. I randomly game, I smoke mad weed. On paper, those can look unrelated, yet in practice, they are all deeply connected. Each one feeds the others. Each one works a different part of my mind, body, and spirit. Together, they form a balanced creative ecosystem.
This is not about killing time. It is about how I choose to live inside it.
Hiking, Movement, and Listening to Land
Hiking is the foundation. Especially in Ohio and the surrounding Appalachian foothills, the land holds quiet complexity. Short trails, long trails, winter hikes, summer heat, all of it teaches presence. Hiking gives my body something honest to do. One foot forward. Breath in rhythm. Attention outward.
On trail, my thoughts slow down without being forced. The noise drops away naturally. I notice rock layers, creek cuts, moss lines, erosion patterns. Hiking is where curiosity wakes up first. It is also where respect for land is reinforced. You cannot rush a trail and expect to receive anything back.
Rockhounding, Touching Deep Time
Rockhounding grows directly out of hiking. It is not about collecting endlessly. It is about noticing what the land reveals. Ohio is rich with flint, chert, fossils, and glacial remnants, each piece a fragment of deep time.
Holding stone changes perspective. Rocks do not care about urgency. They teach patience, scale, and restraint. Ethical rockhounding matters to me, knowing where collection is allowed, taking only what is appropriate, and leaving protected sites untouched. This practice sharpens awareness and reinforces accountability.
Crafting with Foraged Finds, Making Meaning Tangible
Crafting with my foraged finds is where movement and observation turn into creation. Stone that sat quietly for millions of years becomes something carried, worn, or used with intention. I cut, polish, drill, wire wrap, or leave pieces raw depending on what they ask for.
This kind of crafting is slow. It is tactile. It demands attention. Each piece holds memory, the hike it came from, the weather that day, the moment it caught my eye. Making something with my hands grounds me in ways digital work never fully can.
Spiritual Practice, Intuition, and Ritual
My spirituality is not separate from the land or the craft. It grows out of them. Walking, stone, water, fire, all of these are already spiritual teachers if you listen. My practice is personal, grounded, and experiential rather than performative.
Rituals, tarot, pendulum work, and intention setting are tools for reflection, not escape. They help me process emotion, clarify direction, and stay aligned with values. Spirituality gives language to things that logic alone cannot hold.
Writing Poetry and Stories, Translating Experience
Writing is where everything comes together. Hiking provides the images, stone – metaphor, spiritual practice – themes, crafting – texture, and poetry or stories translate lived experience into something shareable.
I write because it is how I make sense of the world. Poetry allows compression, intensity, and emotional truth. Stories allow expansion, narrative, and exploration. Both are necessary. Writing is not a hobby I turn on and off. It is a way of processing existence.
Gaming, Focused Escape and Pattern Recognition
Gaming serves a different purpose. It is structured escape. Clear rules. Immediate feedback. Achievable goals. After long creative or emotional output, gaming lets my brain rest without going numb.
Games sharpen pattern recognition, decision making, and problem solving. They offer worlds where effort is rewarded predictably, which is not always the case in creative work. This balance matters.
Weed, Slowing Down and Sensory Reset
Smoking weed is part of my leisure time, not as avoidance, but as intentional slowing. It softens edges. It deepens sensory awareness. Music hits differently. Thoughts wander productively. Physical tension releases.
Used responsibly, it supports reflection and creativity. It pairs naturally with writing, crafting, or quiet gaming sessions. It is another tool, not a crutch.
How It All Connects
None of these exist in isolation. Writing drains energy. Gaming restores it. Weed smooths transitions between states.
This is how I stay balanced. This is how I stay creative. Leisure, for me, is not passive consumption. It is active relationship, with land, with material, with imagination, and with self.
What I enjoy most in my leisure time is not any single activity. It is the way they weave together into a life that feels intentional. Each one reminds me to slow down, pay attention, and create something honest out of what I am given.
Time is not something to kill. It is something to inhabit.
For me fun is a way of breathing, a way of lighting up and grounding down. It’s where the ground meets breath and I feel small.
These five things are my ways of playing, dreaming, and just being alive in this wild world that keeps pulling me back into wonder. I do them where I am, Ohio mostly, but I carry them into every place I rest my pack.
I’ll take you to see why these matter to me, why they might speak right into your own understanding of joy.
1. Hiking Ohio Parks and Beyond Nature Is My Church
Hiking isn’t a checklist it’s church. It’s the quiet place where my steps speak prayers and the wind becomes a kind of hymn. I spend most of my trails in Appalachia, the ancient ridges and hollows that hold stories beneath moss and stone. From Hocking Hills to the places tucked close to home like Piatt Gorge and little forgotten hollers you pull up on with a shaky signal. The perfect quiet, each park feels like a teacher.
I pay attention to sustainability and my carbon footprint while I go. That isn’t some Instagram line. Before I hit a path I do my research. Then I pack water, snacks, a bag for trash, dog care, a med kit, and I learn the trail conditions because respect for land means knowing what it needs from me. Hiking grounds me in my own body, gives my heart room to slow, and every leaf and cliff edge reminds me why I love this breathing world.
Most trails I wander are close to Ohio Indiana, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Kentucky, and North Carolina. As well as the spaces in between when I travel. Mostly this year though is for Ohio trails first unless the road calls me to loved ones far off.
2. Rockhounding Finding Stones with Stories
Rockhounding is play with purpose. I drive gravel roads look at creek beds and run my hands over banks until something whispers like a buried story. Raw stones, fossils, flint and quartz hidden with sun baked secrets in their fractures, they pull me in every time. When I hold a piece that once lived underground or in some ancient sea bed my worries become small, and my imagination gets loud in the best possible way.
Crystals and stones aren’t just things to me, they’re little time capsules of heat and pressure, of being shaped into something timeless and beautiful. I find peace in the chase and gratitude in every piece that makes me stop and say yes, this feels like something.
3. Witchcraft and Spiritual Creativity
Witchcraft for me isn’t theatrics its creation and alignment. I make spells, tools ritual pieces, wands, and more because that crafting is prayer in motion. I love grounding my intentions into objects made by hand, tuning materials to purpose and watching them hum with meaning. That’s fun and that’s healing and it’s something that keeps me steady when the world feels too loud or too empty.
I also love to teach my craft. I share to help others learn because I know what it’s like to want language and structure for this spiritual play. It’s honest and it’s real and it’s part of bringing more wonder and respect to every day. These tools aren’t props they’re companions, they’re ways to bring intention into living.
4. Making Things From What I Love
Making jewelry charms witchy goods and objects that feel alive under fingertips is where fun and work become the same lovely loop. I take what I find rocks, bone, feathers, metal bits, or bits of wonder and put them together until they feel like something someone else might also like.
This act of creation is rooted in love for material and moment, it’s about giving the raw world form and function, and it’s about connecting with whoever ends up loving these pieces too. When you make something you connect, and that connection is why making things is fun for me. It’s about transformation and meaning and care all rolled together like a stone in the palm that suddenly feels like belonging.
5. Xbox Unwind and Chill Recharge Sessions
Then there’s the alone but together world of Xbox and unwinding. I love a good game, something to sink into when the music in my head needs outside rhythm. Sometimes I add a bit of weed to soften the edges and let the world blur into color and sound, sometimes it’s just me and a controller and a story that feels like living another life for a little while.
I also love a good book, real pages or a screen that feels like touch. Both ground me because fun isn’t always high energy sometimes it’s recharge and release, play, and presence without pressure. It’s the quiet joy of story and challenge and that world you can slip into after a long day on real trails or at your bench turning rock into talisman.
Take a breath right now and think about your own fun. What pulls your shoulders down from your ears and makes your eyes soften? Whatever it is jot it down, revisit it soon when the world whirls loud again. Fun isn’t frivolous it’s fuel, it’s what keeps you moving and rooted all at once.
These five things: hiking, rockhounding, witchcraft and spiritual creation, making art from earth and unwind sessions, are my ways of living out loud. Here I am grounded in nature and creativity. They are the places I find meaning, play, fill my lungs, and quiet my mind. Maybe some of them echo in your own life, maybe they inspire you to try something new.
If this felt like something you recognize in yourself or in someone you know share it with them, let them read about joy that feels rooted and real not flashy or sold.
Before you go!
Tell me what you do for fun and how it feels in your body. What pulls your breath into wonder? Yes, even if it’s nothing like mine. I want to know what lights you up as much as what grounds you.
Check out Poeaxtry’s Links for all things Poeaxtry. Stores and socials, follow along for real life fun, creative habits, and hikes that feel like holy ground.
Or if you want to explore more… Visit Poeaxtry and the Prism’s Archive Cheat Sheet. Discover all post categories, with a blurb and link to full post archive for each. Then find every post in that category in chronological order.
I guide every word I write and every project I create with a few simple questions. Who needs to read this? Who needs to feel it? Why am I crafting this? My mission is creative, communal, personal, and radically inclusive.
Whether through poetry, essays, articles, fictional storytelling, or poetic narrative. My writing exists to reach people on an emotional level. This work aims to resonate, provoke reflection, and inspire action. But it isn’t just about words. It’s about building a movement. This movement revolves around how creativity is shared, judged, and celebrated. This is a care centered creative community.
Growing and Expanding Creative Expression
I aim to expand beyond non-fiction poetry into:
Fictional poetry, narrative storytelling through poetic storylines or short stories, personal essays, reflective articles and other works of imaginative fiction.
Each fictional piece is crafted to connect in an entertaining way. It serves as a bridge to my other more emotional and non-fictional creations.
This expansion aligns with the growing importance growth as a creative individual and brand
Building a Creative Community for All
I am committed to redefining community in the arts.
Safety and care:
Crafting creative spaces where voices are protected, valued, and nurtured.
Growth and advocacy:
Through mentorship, resources, and collaboration that prioritize minority voices.
Artistic freedom:
Things like no paywalls, no educational barriers, no judgment based on perspective, identity, or credentials for minority creative people.
Doing this we:
Are actively dismantling the traditional publishing model that favors privilege and exclusivity. Every artist, poet, and writer, regardless of degree, background, or experience, can be published, shared, and spotlighted here.
Community Collaboration
Through free-to-read digital quarterlies, we spotlight minority creatives and welcoming allies. Contributors gain visibility without financial barriers. Our community thrives through care.
Free submission opportunities for literature and visual art. Virtual and local open mic nights. Spotlight features for creatives, small businesses, and advocacy projects. Publishing, formatting, and editing minority manuscripts. As well as sharing tools, resources, and knowledge without gatekeeping the opportunities for others.
These initiatives are designed to amplify voices that might otherwise go unheard. They also create a community centered on care and creativity.
Consider this:
Can you recall the last time you saw a creative space built to prioritize care over commerce?
A space where emotion, expression, and truth are valued more than reputation or money?
If you’ve experienced that before, please comment below. Tell me what inclusion and advocacy in creativity mean to you.
Personal Mission:
Live Loud, Love Fully
Be loud, Love more, live more, and make more memories. Embrace sustainable, healthy, intentional living. While taking action for change, instead of just talking about it. I want to be someone I would have looked up to when I was six. While I live a life I will be proud of when I’m sixty-six.
Every choice in my life, and every word on the page, aims to create real impact in the communities I occupy. This impact reaches both online and offline.
Anti-Capitalist Values
Living fully also means fighting for fairness and equity in the arts and society.
Being anti-capitalist isn’t just an idea, it’s a way of living. I support independent creators and small businesses, trade, and barter, or exchange art, tools, services, and skills whenever possible. I dive into hobbies that are cheap, sustainable, and meaningful. Support shop local over corporate whenever I can. While I prioritize community connection over consumption. Each choice I make, from swapping a poem for a painting to lending my time to help another creative mind grow, is a stand against a system. This system profits off gatekeeping, exclusion, and unnecessary spending. Living this way keeps me rooted in action, not just rhetoric. While I ensure my life and creative work reflect the world I want to see.
Being the Change, Not Just Talking About It
I’m done waiting for others to make the world better while everyone just talks about wanting change. My mission is to actively create the change I want to see, starting with every word I write. Closely followed by every space I build.
This looks like :
Being the change for me means living loud, refusing to conform, and turning ideals into action every single day. It’s calling and writing my representatives, showing up at protests, lobbying for policies that protect marginalized communities. Creating art that doubles as advocacy, and document or challenge injustice. Community building and spaces where care, creativity, and equality are central. Safely sharing knowledge about laws, rallies, and initiatives so others can act, too. Then I spread the word, amplify minority voices, practice mutual aid, and actively support movements instead of waiting for someone else to lead. Every thing I do, I do in a manner that acts as a step toward justice, visibility, and collective empowerment. This is about more than saying we want change; it’s creating, showing up, sharing, teaching, and living the change.
Day by day.
Word by word.
Act by act.
Change isn’t abstract. It’s tangible. Every action. This is how I transform ideals into practice, how I make “wanting change” equal actual change.
If this mission resonates, share this post with a poet, artist, or creative minority or ally. Especially if they need to see that art can be inclusive. Let’s show others art and literature can be accessible, without boundaries.
Share it with anyone who you think would like to submit to community collaborations. Or anyone who might benefit from resources. If they could thrive in this community in any way or benefit, they are welcomed.
Poeaxtry and the Prism is more than publishing. It’s an entire movement of community liberation in creativity.
Submit your poetry, photography, art, or prose, and essays for inclusion in our digital quarterlies. Submit for free by form or by emailing poeaxtryspoetryprism@gmail.com
Join a creative community and get involved in contests, critics, or virtual open mic nights. As well as curating your own collaborative content or joining in on others!
Our spaces are for minorities, supportive allies, and anyone who believes in artistic freedom without judgment. Creatives, critics, silent readers, tech bros, and hype men all welcome. DiscordTwitch Mod Form
Influence isn’t just who inspires you when things are going well.
It’s who shaped your voice, your spine, your boundaries, and your refusal to shrink.
Some influences teach you how to speak.
Some teach you how to survive.
Some teach you exactly what paths you will never follow.
This is a living map.
Creative Influences, Where the Art Found Me First
Before I ever understood craft or branding or audience, I understood feeling.
These artists didn’t just make music. They made permission.
Hobo Johnson, Poetry Wearing a Hoodie
Hobo Johnson’s work feels like overhearing someone tell the truth in a grocery store aisle.
His lyrics read like spoken word wrapped in everyday chaos, anxiety, longing, humor, and self awareness.
He takes ordinary moments and pulls the emotional thread until it hums.
That taught me something crucial, you don’t need spectacle to be powerful.
You need honesty and timing.
That influence shows up in my work when I write about small moments that carry heavy weight, the quiet details that hit harder than a scream.
NF, Naming the Darkness Without Letting It Win
NF’s influence is about how to talk about pain.
He never glamorizes struggle, he dissects it.
Mental health isn’t aesthetic in his music, it’s work, confrontation, accountability, growth.
He shows that vulnerability and strength can occupy the same body.
That mattered to me.
Especially in spaces where pain is often exploited instead of processed.
Snailmate, Experimentation as Survival
Snailmate taught me that you don’t have to choose between chaos and intention.
Their sound is loud, fast, sharp, playful, and deeply self aware.
Genre lines collapse. Identity is fluid. Lyrics cut and dance at the same time.
That influence lives in my refusal to make my work palatable for comfort.
Art is allowed to be strange.
It’s allowed to be fun.
It’s allowed to be unclassifiable.
Mayday Parade, Raw Emotion Without Apology
Mayday Parade doesn’t flinch from emotional exposure. Mayday parade is an emotion.
Heartbreak, longing, grief, regret, hope, all of it laid bare without irony.
That sincerity taught me that earnestness isn’t weakness.
Sometimes the bravest thing is to say, this hurt me, and I’m still here.
Moral Integrity, Learned Early and Reinforced Daily
Some of the deepest influences aren’t artists.
They’re examples.
My Mom, Teaching Me Who Deserves Respect
My mom taught me integrity by living it.
She didn’t make speeches. She modeled it.
She worked in the IDD community and brought me with her.
I learned early that difference is not deficiency.
She had a lesbian best friend when that still made people uncomfortable in the early 70s and through her entire life.
She defended people others dismissed.
She showed up for the underdog because someone always needs to.
That shaped how I see people, how I refuse hierarchy based on identity, and why I don’t negotiate on dignity.
The Elders Who Helped Me Become Myself
When I came out, it wasn’t a clean or singular moment.
It was a series of brave, terrifying steps.
Queer elders stepped in where systems didn’t.
They helped me cut my hair when I was shedding an old version of myself and stepping into my next identity: Lesbianism.
They helped me rebuild a wardrobe that felt like home in my skin masculine clothes and hair way back then. When I didn’t understand I could become a man, and I thought that was the only option. So I made it fit.
The next group of elders taught me about binders, safety, autonomy, and peer groups.
They connected me to doctors, surgeons, information, and access when I moved to Vegas and after.
They didn’t just help me transition.
They helped me survive transition.
They showed me what chosen family looks like when it’s rooted in care. They taught me that the people from before who didn’t accept me now never were really my friends.
Comment and share what influenced your creativity, your morals, or who not to be?
Do you have influences elsewhere in your life you’d like to mention? Those are fine too. We appreciate your input and conversation.
The Influences I Learned From by Rejection
Not all influence pulls you forward.
Some pushes you away from becoming something you refuse to be.
My Father, Absence as a Lesson
My dad had enough to give more and chose not to.
That absence was instructive.
Not in bitterness, but in clarity.
It taught me that providing isn’t just financial.
It’s presence, responsibility, and showing up when it’s inconvenient.
I learned what abandonment looks like.
And I learned that I will never replicate it.
Political Power That Chooses Harm
Watching the Republican political party in power push policies that strip rights from immigrants, migrants, people of color, disabled people, LGBTQ people, and start wars for wages. Then they ignore or enabling actual predators which is not abstract.
It’s personal.
It’s dangerous.
That contradiction taught me vigilance.
It taught me to question authority, to read policy, to listen to who is harmed and who is protected.
It shaped my refusal to separate politics from lived reality.
Because people live inside laws.
Influence doesn’t end with what shaped us.
It continues with what we pass on.
I carry poetry, music, elders, integrity, and hard lessons into my work because someone else might need that map.
Someone else might be standing where I once stood, looking for permission, language, or a way through.
We don’t get to choose all our influences.
But we do choose what we become because of them.
If this piece made you think of:
A queer kid who needs proof they won’t be alone, An artist struggling to trust their voice, Someone unpacking family, faith, or politics with honesty, or Anyone learning how to build themselves from what they were given.
Share this with them to remind them they’re allowed to exist fully, loudly, and with intention.
Where you will find real people, unfiltered language, and rough-edged art. Submit to the next Poeaxtry Prism quarterly by form or email Poeaxtryspoetryprism@gmail.com
Political beliefs do not usually explode overnight. They seep. They shift. They crack quietly, then all at once you notice the entire thing shifted. The same thing usually goes when we notice any change. Mine did exactly that.
Childhood Beliefs
As a kid, I was patriotic in the way kids are taught to be patriotic. Loud. Certain. Clean. I stood for the Pledge of Allegiance without thinking twice. I believed the United States was the best country in the world because that was the only option I was ever given. I supported the war in Iraq because the adults around me did, because the news said we were protecting freedom, because flags were everywhere and fear was louder than nuance. I sang patriotic songs from people like Toby Keith.
Young Adulthood
I wanted to join the Air Force. I wanted structure, purpose, a uniform that meant something. Later, I even thought I wanted to be a cop. I studied criminal justice. I believed in law, order, and the idea that justice was something you could train into people if you followed the rules hard enough. Which actually lead me to believe even more radicalized than I already was as a young transgender man. I thought I could graduate with a degree become a cop and change the entire system. Me just one man. I had big dreams I still do. Just not those ones.
Adulthood
As an adult life gained nuance and truth with experience. I now understand propaganda. More importantly I understand power and who typically had it. Through learning all of this I understand myself more and my wants more.
This is not a redemption arc. This is a record of unlearning.
Growing Up Patriotic, On Purpose
My early political worldview was not accidental. It was engineered.
Schools taught compliance before curiosity. Stand up. Hand on your heart. Repeat the words. Do not ask why. Bow or curtsy. Television framed war like a necessary sacrifice, not a calculated decision. The soldiers were heroes, the enemy was faceless, and the reasons were always simplified into good versus evil.
As a child, I absorbed that without resistance. I supported the war in Iraq because I did not know what imperialism was. I did not know how oil shaped foreign policy. I did not know how easily fear can be weaponized when wrapped in red, white, and blue. Now I notice blending these colors forms a bruise kind of like we leave every where we go.
I believed service equaled morality. I believed uniforms meant integrity. I believed authority existed to protect.
Those beliefs did not come from critical thinking. They came from repetition.
Wanting to Serve, Wanting to Belong
The desire to join the Air Force was not just about patriotism. It was about belonging. About being part of something bigger. About having a role that came pre-approved, pre-valued, and pre-respected.
Later, when that shifted into wanting to be a police officer, the logic stayed the same. I wanted to help. I wanted to keep people safe. I believed the system worked because I had not yet seen how selectively it worked.
Studying criminal justice cracked that illusion faster than anything else. This was the same time the murder of George Floyd was happing so my own lived experiences were ripping apart the seams of what I thought was true.
The deeper I went into the material, the harder it became to ignore patterns. Who gets arrested. Who gets sentenced. Who gets believed. Who gets forgiven. The answers were not random. They were structural. My lived experiences at this time were echoing this. The story’s from my friends, the stories in the news they echoed the same thing the books did.
I walked away from the career.
Not because I was lazy. I was paying attention.
Education Did Not Radicalize Me, Reality Did
There is a popular myth that education brainwashes people into being critical of the state. That is backwards.
Learning exposed the contradictions that were already there. While lived experiences showed the full truth.
I learned how laws are written, who they benefit, and who they harm. I learned how policing evolved, not as a neutral force, but as a tool of control. I learned how prisons function less as rehabilitation and more as warehouses for poverty, mental illness, and systemic neglect.
Once you see that, you cannot unsee it.
I could not reconcile the version of justice I was promised as a kid with the version I was studying as an adult.
So I stopped pretending they were the same thing.
If you were raised to believe something politically that later fell apart, what was the first crack for you? Was it education, identity, loss, or seeing the system up close? Comment with the moment that made you stop and rethink everything.
Understanding Propaganda for What It Is
Propaganda is most effective when you do not know it is propaganda.
It taught me that war was necessary, not profitable. That American violence abroad was defensive, not strategic. That questioning authority was ungrateful. That loyalty mattered more than truth.
Now I understand war as business. Oil. Resources. Influence. Power disguised as protection. I understand that young people are recruited through patriotism because it is cheaper than honesty.
I do not romanticize service anymore. I do not confuse sacrifice with morality. I do not believe harm becomes noble just because it wears a uniform.
That shift was not cynical. It was clarifying.
Queer, Not Just LGBT, If You Know You Know
Coming into my queerness reshaped everything.
Not the sanitized, corporate version of LGBT that gets rolled out during Pride Month. Queer, as in disruptive. Queer, as in refusing neat categories. Queer, as in living outside the narratives that were built to control bodies, families, and futures.
Being queer taught me that the system was never built with me in mind. That my safety was conditional. That my acceptance depended on how quiet, palatable, and profitable I could be. Coming out as trans really opened up my eyes to this.
You do not grow up queer and still believe the state loves you unconditionally.
Once you realize your existence is political by default, you stop pretending politics are abstract.
Why I No Longer Believe in “The Best Country” Myth
Believing you live in the best country in the world requires comparison, honesty, and accountability. I was taught the phrase without any of those things.
Now I understand that calling a country “the best” while ignoring its violence, inequality, and exported harm is not pride. It is denial.
I can acknowledge where I live without worshipping it. I can critique systems without hating people. I can want better without pretending we are already there.
Patriotism that cannot survive criticism is not loyalty. It is fragility.
Walking Away From Uniforms and Authority
I no longer want to join the military. I no longer want to be a cop. I no longer believe authority automatically equals protection.
That does not mean I reject responsibility or community care. It means I understand that safety does not come from domination. It comes from resources, equity, and accountability.
I refused to participate in systems I no longer believed were just.
That choice cost me the easy path.
It gave me integrity.
Where My Politics Live Now
My political views today are rooted in skepticism, compassion, and lived experience. I know the left and the right are two sides of the same system. I know when democrats get elected we pause and when republicans get elected they more shit more to the right. I am leftist scum. I am not a democrat. I am not a liberal. I am anti capitalist.
I question power. I center marginalized voices. I reject simple answers to complex harm. I understand that systems can be designed to fail certain people on purpose.
I believe liberation is collective, not individual. I believe survival should not require conformity. I believe queerness, art, and dissent are forms of resistance.
I am not neutral. I am informed.
My political views did not change because I was influenced by trends. They changed because the stories I was told as a child collapsed under the weight of reality.
I grew up pledging allegiance. I grew into asking questions. I grew out of believing violence equals virtue. I grew into understanding that propaganda thrives on silence and obedience.
This evolution is not something I regret. It is something I earned.
And I am still learning.
If this hit uncomfortably close, share it with someone who is still where you used to be, or someone who is unlearning alongside you. Not to argue. Not to convert. Just to remind them they are not broken for changing their mind, and neither are you.
Be seen, celebrated, and connected! All Free! Submit to Poeaxtry Spotlights today. By form or email Poeaxtry@gmail.com
With Poeaxtry and the Prism creations creativity is not a single act, it is a network of choices, practices, and systems that produce many works with multiple meanings. Works are over time, across forms, mediums, and or lived experiences. I create through many different types of poetry collections, digital magazines, short stories, multiple curated freebies, visual design, blogging, ritual, craft, indie publishing, and community building.
These practices all are used in a way that is reinforcing the others, each project designed for future forward thinking, accessibility, and connecting with others.
This post will document how I am creative in action, not theory, and then it shows how a multi-disciplinary practice generates advocacy, community care, and minority motivation through creativity.
Comment below the different ways you are creative or centered in community care! Let’s share and grow together!
Poetry
Poetry is the foundation of my creative practice, spanning themes like grief, politics, intimacy, survival, love, joy, and refusal,(just to name a few) across collections, digital freebies, quarterly zines, and ongoing work. I design every poem to function as a standalone piece, a thematic entry in a collection, or any spark of line that pops in my mind. I use observation, memory, emotional truth, and craft to transform experience into language, shaping rhythm, meaning, resonance, and reader reflection.
The digital free quarterly magazine is a curated, layered, intentional creative project. That may include poetry, short prose, essays, visuals, ads for indie creatives etc, contributor work, and more sequenced for rhythm, accessibility, and community care. This is designed in Canva Pro, hosted webpage, serving as both community collaboration and minority movement. All indie and minority inclusions free to build and include work.
Minority/ Marginalized community members may submit up to 10 poems, 10 art pieces (digital or photographic high definition), 2 prose, and or 2 essays . Allied creators with supportive works may submit 1/2 of the above cap. Submit by emailing poeaxtry@gmail.com or form.
Short Stories
Short stories one of the newer creative avenues in my experimental creative endeavors. These allow narrative exploration beyond poetry, experimenting with pacing, tension, voice, drafted, refined, and launched when the right format is finalized. Genres including horror-gore, splatter-punk, and or erotica layered together and creating space to confront fear, power, or boundary.
Refusal as Creative Act
Refusal in itself is a creative decision, choosing to publish, without willingness to conform. To continue holding space for deeper work, rejecting exploitative trends, building sustainable creative practices, preserving integrity, impact showing in project longevity, audience trust, and the ability to iterate without compromise, commas marking pause, consideration, deliberation.
Hiking and Observation as Source Material
Hiking and observation provide primary source material for different poems, blog posts, curated content, imagery, narrative inspiration, and more. Documentation through hiking journals, photos, videos, emotional reflections in authentic detail, and more.
Systems and Strategy as Creative Problem Solving
Systems and strategy turn scattered creative work into sustainable practice, organized collections, managing different free and paid offerings, streamlining digital publications, maintaining workflow across multiple platforms, ensuring creative output, and more
Visual Design as Storytelling
Visual design communicates narrative and tone, from digital magazine layouts, cover art, artistic spacing, typography, color, visually themed elements across collections, poem images (full poems or selected lines posted on socials/ website) . These things work to reinforce the emotional impact of literary work, and are designed in Canva Pro for consistency, readability, and aesthetic clarity.
Blog Writing as Living Documentation
Blog writing captures process, reflection, and documentation of ongoing creative practice, hikes, local outdoor historical or artistic places, calls for arc readers/ collabs/ street team and more, emotional journals, daily and random prompts, newsletters & small project memos, free indie spotlights, minority positivity, call outs of people in the media/ politics promoting bigotry, poems, and much more.
Community Building as Collaborative Art
Community building is creative labor, curating contributors, centering minority voices, hosting collaborations, structuring submissions, balancing recognition and visibility, creating interactive spaces, creative contests, giveaways, planning virtual and local open mic nights, and more.
Submit Collaboration proposal, manuscript, art book, etc for Publishing by emailing poeaxtryspoetryprism@gmail.com or form. Volunteer to Mod community spaces or curation etc for community collabs and more email poeaxtry@gmail.com or submit this form
Ritual and Spellwork as Intentional Design
Ritual and spellwork translate intention into structured action, combining symbolism, timing, materials, and purpose. This are made to impact both maker and recipient.
Handmade craft embeds creativity in the physical, tactile, and material, including rockhounding, tumbling, polishing, lapidary art, jewelry design and making, keychains, wands, wreaths, windchimes, natural sprays, tinctures, beanies, shirts, hybrid print pamphlets, small printable/ digital use zines, and much more. By creating functional objects from raw stone, bones, crystals, wood, herbs, and more, design reflects manifestation/emotion/ etc.
Indie publishing is the architecture that holds all creative output, from solo collections, poetry, collaborative projects, structuring, sequencing, designing, optimizing, and distributing work, ensuring longevity, discoverability, and accessibility.
I am creative through layered, intentional practice, through poetry, digital publications, short stories, hiking, visual design, blogging, rituals, craft, and indie publishing, each practice informing the others, each project structured for longevity, visibility, and impact, connection, the ongoing evolution of work, creativity as living, adaptive, functional. These are all deeply embedded in process and practice.
Send this post to a friend who you think would be interested in submitting to a no denial based on artistic taste submission.
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You get to build your perfect space for reading and writing. What’s it like?
Break The Rules
Everyone has a dream space that makes writing or reading feel effortless, immersive, like the world slows down just for your thoughts. I don’t just have one perfect idea…
I’ve got a few, each with its own vibe and rhythm. I’ve planned them with details that spark comfort, focus, and a little luxury for the senses.
The Ultimate Cozy Beanbag Retreat
Imagine a beanbag chair so big it could swallow me, my dog, and still leave space to sprawl. I’d choose a Luvsack-style one, extra soft and indulgent, it probably has a pocket. Or a few even.
Next to it, a small stand holding water, hot tea, and something caffeinated… because balance, obviously. Candles flicker around the room, scents like warm vanilla and honey. Or a seasonal smell. I do not want overwhelming, just sweet or soft scents. Plushy arm chairs and blankets cover empty spaces, squishy stuffed animals as well… perfect for sinking in.
Somewhere, a Bluetooth speaker plays string instrumentals, Lindsey Stirling, maybe, or someone in the same genre.
A mini-fridge hums quietly in the corner, a small cabinet of snacks within reach… a cocoon of comfort designed for hours of uninterrupted creation with seating options for collaboration or body doubling solo projects with others.
My Nomadic Tent Writing Retreat
Then there’s freedom. A 660-pound capacity tent on stilts, my partner’s anniversary gift to me that can go anywhere.
Well anywhere… flat. In the woods, near a lake, a field, in the backyard, anywhere that lets me exist for a few days at least. Inside, it’s just me, my thoughts, a sleeping mat, and comfort items . Oh luna too
A portable writer’s retreat where I can walk, write, think, and reset. The tent moves with me, flexible as my inspiration, bridging home comforts with the wild serenity of outdoors.
I want to hear your version… if you could design your perfect reading or writing space without limits, what would it include? Odd little details, big indulgences, scents, sounds anything else? Tell me everything you would do in the comments.
Hammock Spaces
Then last but not least simplicity and air. Anywhere a hammock can be strung, I can write or read as long as the weather allows, noise levels permitting but that goes for the tent too.
A Gentle sway, sunlight through leaves, a breeze against the skin, and the hum of quiet life outside… these moments are delicate, fleeting, perfect for capturing thoughts that demand stillness and clarity.
These spaces are my dream perfect sanctuaries. I designed for focus, creativity, and comfort. I enjoy quiet, nature, comfort, softness, and subtle things.
Share this post with someone who lives for writing or reading in immersive spaces, someone who’d love to dream up their own retreat… let’s plant seeds of creativity to bloom.
If things like honest work, real people, unfiltered language, and rough-edged art explain you or what you create…
Submit to the next Poeaxtry Prism issue by form or email Poeaxtryspoetryprism@gmail.com
I like to think I’m a good judge of character when it comes to someone’s vibe, their juju. You know the way they carry themselves… the energy they give off. Most of the time… then I look back at ex friendships and ex relationships and I wonder if I’m such a good judge why did I pick them?
Maybe it has to do with different personality traits, different perspectives, or even disorders. Maybe some people are just better at hiding their intentions until the right moment. That doesn’t always affect me, and sometimes it clearly does. so maybe when it doesn’t affect me it’s easier to spot.
When it does affect me, my sense of judgment feels obviously flawed… no matter how many vibes I try to feel out, no matter how much intuition I trust. It’s imperfect, and sometimes painfully obvious that my read on someone is off. Even if it isn’t always obvious to me.
So, yes… I can feel someone’s energy. I can sense vibes. But character is messy, layered, and occasionally hidden. My intuition is useful, but it’s not infallible.
Judging character is part instinct, part observation, and part luck. Even with a strong sense of vibes or juju, hidden intentions and context can make anyone’s judgment flawed. The key is knowing the limits of intuition and staying aware that human behavior isn’t always readable at first or one hundredth glance.
