April/May Schedule


After shooting s few emails I now have most of my schedule confirmed.



Wednesday the 15th

Expression Session in Warsaw, Poland

link [link=https://m.facebook.com/?_rdr#!/events/1411919119115464?acontext=%7B%22ref%22%3A98%7D&aref=98&ref=bookmark]here[/link]

Wednesday the 22nd

Textstrom Poetry Slam in Vienna, Austria

Friday the 24th

Moabit Slam in Berlin, Germany



Friday the 1st (confirmed!)

Rosis in Berlin, Germany

Saturday the 2nd (confirmed!)

Tube Slam on Berlin, Germany

Sunday the 3rd

Karlshorster in Berlin, Germany

Friday the 8th

Slamffm in Frankfurt am Main, Germany

Saturday the 9th (not confirmed)

Gotec in Karlsruhe, Germany

Wednesday the 13th

Expression Session in Warsaw, Poland

Friday the 15th

Poetry Slam im Theater in Stuttgart, Germany

Thursday the 28th (not confirmed)

Festival in Lublin, Poland




I’ll make edits when appropriate!

via WordPress for Phone http://goo.gl/j6Fzhf

Another Currently Untitled Poem


I know it took me awhile

trying to figure out

what was worth my while

and what to write about

but now I have my style –

the excess I’ve tossed out –

so my sincerity adds clarity

to these weekly therapy



There’s no need to question

my preferred method of expression

as ideas blend and mix

to discover what sticks

so it can lay a brick on top of a brick

as we build a house.

Just be weary of those who want to kill the route,

so let’s detour to make sure

they can’t feel us out

these days I can’t see why I was filled with doubt.


Now I write to remind

myself of a time

where these various rhymes

were locked deep into the layers of this mind

desperately dying to break free.

They clawed and scratched at my anatomy

mad at me, damaging all mentality

driving me to kick and scream,

punching objects and fucking up my hand

all over a possible blessing I couldn’t understand.


Was it worth it?


I worry that I can’t work it,

I wonder if the ears

would truly hear

as my poems persevere

through the sneer and snide

remarks coming from the cowards who hide

their hearts and at the same time they tried

to take apart my struggles claiming I’ve lied

and deny every step that’s played a part

in the development to the realization

that I lacked the heart. But my revelation

forces their hesitation, giving me an advantage

as I grew to learn to control my savage

impulses and focus that energy into my poetry

so you know this is me, now, without fear

since a conversation I had back a few years,

did you wanna hear?

“Daedalus how do you stay awake?” Asked the engineer,

I put my finger to my chest and said “there’s an engine here.”

I Solemnly Swear…


1) The Expression Session was a great success. It even inspired people who wanted to just watch, to step on stage and read a story or some poems.

2) Italy was amazing! They were praising my poems and I will definitely “tour” the country and perform.

Back to the grind! I wrote 3 poems the past week. Here’s one:

The Pledge

Patience. Persistence.

I am beyond grateful for your existence

as I tumbled and stumbled

through a non-secured tunnel.

However, I suspect you of foul play.

That’s right, you’ve been caught, nothing to say?

I mean, what kind of love is this?

At first I thought I struck it rich

but it seems you always had a motive

and honestly, I don’t know if

it’s possible to forget or even forgive

due to the shock that has taken

over my being. It ain’t like you were fakin’

your feelings but I might’ve mistaken

your meanings for supporting me.

I’ve explained all possibilities

and it’s plain to see

that you’ve been using and possibly me

abusing the

connection that I unwittingly

established some years ago.


Now that I know,

I don’t care.

This two-person Voltron

we have goin’ on relies on

facing everything as one.

It’s created this calculating, insane

Poet tapping into countless brains

helping others gain

an understanding of what lies

beyond the 10 percent. All ties

to previous lives

will be severed and will never

be held, much less, contained, ever.

So please, I write to thee

continue to use me.

I pledge to forever be

Your willing vessel, dear Poetry.

Untitled Poem (or perhaps “Unlabeled”)

FIRST, an update:
1) Expression Session! For those who have my twitter, instagram, Facebook, or g+, you might have seen that I’m hosting an open mic event here in Warsaw, Wednesday, March 11th! Poetry, story telling, singing, music, it’s exciting.
2) I will be in Turin, Italy to perform (flying out March 12th) and I was trying to decide what poems to perform when this new “Untitled” Poem (actually as I type this, I might call it “Unlabeled”!) popped into my head. MAYBE?

So I looked at the mirror today
and I must say,
I’m pretty jealous of y’all,
you get to see this face every day.
While I do admire my handsome features,
I decided to look past my youth
and discovered something that doesn’t quite suit
me, still.
Sometimes, at will,
I carry the burden of countless decades of the
blood, sweat, and tears, that made it possible for me
to dive deep into the realms of poetry.
Other times, I try not to identify
with this; I don’t like to be marginalized.
When I happen to carry the weight,
I’m quickly reminded by the large rate
of jokes of my actual tone
followed by the implications of “not enough”.
But when I claim no association, it’s as if the rough
stares increase with frequent aggravation.
I’m not saying I change for the masses,
but it’s fucking confusing as each day passes
to be told the opposite of what I am.
It doesn’t matter if you don’t
see what’s different, it still won’t
deter the unnaturally suspicious figures
who figure that I am an embodiment
of whatever renders them completely impotent.
So, why you mad, bro?
Do you really feel
that I am here to steal
from you? I guess nothing I do will
ever appeal
to your compassion.
So this happens,
you try to take out your frustration
by labeling me as a thug despite my college education.
But that’s alright, do whatever you please.
I’m too busy and don’t care to appease
to your small view,
and who knew
that I would hear my words in Chinese?
I’ve accepted the fire that’s turned desire
to obsession pushing me to ascend higher
and making my coherent thoughts tighter.
Now there’s just one thing to make me a better climber;
I really need to stop flinching when my students mispronounce “Niger”.

Birth of The Poet


“Who dares disturb my slumber?”

The boom rattles me to my very core

as the thunderous rumble threatens to tear me asunder.

But, I refuse to reveal the fear that has bored

itself deep into my essence.


It seems that ever since

I began this bond with my pen,

I’ve been scraping and peeling

at this onion that the masses can’t comprehend,

and…it’s a shame, because I have a feeling

that after this encounter, staying the same


is what they’ll wish I did.

“It is I, a poet. DJ is the name,”

but something gives away that I haven’t ditched

every false aspect of me. I was still ashamed

of that which I can’t seem to hide


from this being. As I recognize the curious desire

of present company, its patience fades

and continues to withhold that I wish to acquire

due to my spurious claims.

It starts to thin and freeze the air.


“What do you fear?” I merely stared.

The all-knowing silence that follows

as I gulp and swallow was everything compared

to the legends told of this hallow


spirit. I tried not to feel it,

but a compulsion forces me to confess

or I’ll just stay in this mess due to the limits

I’ve established, encouraging an eventual regress-


ion in my development. “Fine,” I said, I lose my dreary

composure and admit, “my name is David.” An eerie

shiver runs down my spine

as this divine creature entwines


with me and, now, I can channel my misery

as it seeps into the delivery of my poetry

as long as I consume the leaves of these poet tress

carefully planted by my fusion with this Chaotic Entity.

Night Owl

Here’s one of the first times I ever hinted at “The Poet”.

The chirping has

long since silenced.

My eyes


the landscape,


Searching and waiting.

Minutes crawl by

with nary a whisper to


A patch of


welcomes me

as I remove my

equipment from

my pack and

begin the

all too familiar

ritual, and


The deepest nerves

buried in marrow

shiver. Focusing,

I force my spirit

to retain my


It guides

my friend as

it races

across the

pages. Spilling

secrets that none

will ever witness

as long as the sky glows

and the sheep

seek and peak

looking to

find my last

bit of sanctuary.


I debutted this poem at a slam last Thursday!

We have lived in a world where there is no ‘we’

and it’s partly because I’m a different me.

It’s crazy when you think on how you think it can be

that you clearly still have love for me.

You love me,

I loved him, you loved her,

we loved so much even when the love hurt.

I used to not sleep thinking about what could occur

and as time went on we both questioned our words.

Was it possible that we both still felt

the same as before? Can you please help?


I guess you couldn’t understand these things

you loved so much that it slowly turned to hate

you hated how much our moods would swing,

you hated every one of my ‘cute little things’,

you hated how you was way too late

to admit to me what it really was

you never understood that your action really does

have consequences on my personal health

I would stress, be depressed and plain hurt myself

you claim ‘love’ but please put that back on the shelf

because what’s love got to do with it when you don’t love yourself?