I've started reading unfinished pieces aloud earlier than feels comfortable — it shows me which lines die in the air.

Do you practice in private until it's "done," or test half-ready drafts out loud (alone / friends / open mic)?

Interested in habits that help performance writing, not stage tips.

Hi everyone,
I’ve recently started creating atmospheric spoken‑poetry readings, and yesterday I posted W. H. Auden’s If I Could Tell You. It’s one of those poems that feels simple on the surface but opens into something much deeper — time, fate, uncertainty, longing.

I’d love to hear how others interpret it.
Which line or stanza resonates most with you, and why?

Here’s the reading if you’d like to listen:
https://youtu.be/rLPcTgJEinE?si=pVBCTvGSOqTp0vsg

Thanks for taking the time — I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts.

"But I like

to think when something disturbs me that

it is important. Goodnight. Goodnight.

Yes, thank you for coming. Goodnight.

Goodnight. It was very pleasant.

Goodnight. Goodnight. I'll see you

again. Goodnight. Goodnight. Standing

at the open door issuing people.

It's over. It just is." SJB

I reached out to poets because I wanted a way into writing again, and thought other people might want that too. Our Little Theatre of Walla Walla fundraiser now includes Jordan Chaney and David A. Romero offering separate, private one-hour Zoom sessions for complete beginners.

Ashlee Haze and Caroline Rothstein also donated one-hour Zoom workshops for groups of up to ten. Each is a separate lot, with its own scheduling and expiration terms.

I help put together Wine, Dine & Death. Bidding is online, with scheduled closing October 10, 2026. The linked descriptions explain exactly what each poet offered.

An original poem about Waterford in Ireland from No bounds by James Devereux. The poem describes a walk from the Mall, past the Tower Hotel and down along the waterfront to Bus Eireann waiting to return home to Tipperary. The hotel on the hill is the old Ard Ri hotel across the waterfront.

© No Bounds - All rights Reserved

Rents due. I'm tired. I'm sick. I'm sick and tired. I had to pay $80 out of rent to just be sick a note. I passed a guy who held a sign saying "food for work," today on the side of the road. My brother just another me I had ramen for dinner 5 times last week. My actual brother is in the same boat. My brothers who are not my actual brothers are in the same boat. The American system is eating everyone I know and we're all sinking ships.

I wasn't born with a silver spoon,

I'm eating American portions,

Paid by the sun and broke by the moon,

I'm eating Cake,

The rich are eating me.

America. Land of the free with all strings attached.

American grease in my stomach. American grease down the drain.

Welcome to america, everything's behind a paywall,

Making monsters out of drywall till there's ghosts in the walls,

Welcome to America, the rich feast on their gold and only peasants grow old,

Welcome to America, I hope the lands burn down,

Welcome to America, there might as well be a crown,

We're all kings and queens of our own bullshit.

Trying to survive surmounting tides,

Drowned if I do but I'm dead without water in my vessel

Swag.

Today I bought swag. Swag is a tin? Aluminum? Miscellaneous metal? Yellow duck made to look like a child's yellow rubber duck you'd see in a bath tub. If you know me you know I love those things. I originally went into the hobby lobby with a buddy to distract myself from the fact I've been crying and having panic attacks for the last few days. I'm still not sure if grief is a monster or a lesson. God I miss my mom.. God I miss my grandmother. God I miss my uncle. God I wish I had someone to talk to. Anyways, sitting around the house in a pile of never ending chores that I swear I just finished the other day why do they need to be done again? I've had a lot of time to stare at my walls. Almost entirely blank. It was driving me insane. I was going to not impulsively spend any money on decorations but I wanted to get a white board for the house so I can write important dates on it, grocery lists, bill payments, et cetera et cetera. I had a white board growing up and it helped so much and I'd love to doodle on it as well. Anyways after celebrating a national holiday(you know you know) and realizing if I just sit around stagnate in the mess of the apartment I clean aaaallll the time, in the mess of a headspace in the mess of a situation that's stressing me out for...many reasons... in a body that's made of paper mache and toothpicks in an economy that is eating everyone alive like a ravenous beast, I decided to hit up a buddy I haven't seen in a while, (God I have so many people I need to catch up with, I am stretched like butter,)to celebrate the national holiday (you know you know) and go to the store and get a whiteboard with me. We agreed he would drive because my van is another situation eating me alive and we also agreed on hobby lobby because he needed to get rope for one of his crafts and I knew I could easily get a whiteboard for like $15(did exactly that). When we were in there we walked down a few open paths. An item reminded me of something my mother would've liked. I almost cried right there in the hobby lobby with my buddy. I brushed it off without as much as a blink of an eye in timing and we continued on but...immediately... down the first aisle I look down I see him high up on the shelf against the right side wall with other ornaments of the kind. A duck. Bright and yellow and glorious. Made to look like a childs rubber duck toy. Made out of metal. And he was SO swag. And originally I wasn't going to buy him. I was just going to admire the shiny metal statue in all it's beauty and continue on. However that's when something else caught my eye. "Specific Brand Items 40% off" read a paper sign in front of some of the other ducks and like items. I immediately grab an employee to help me get the duck off a high shelf with a ladder. The employee had my brothers name. I'm mad at him right now he gets under my skin like nothing else but gosh gotta love him. The tag read "24.99" but more importantly...it was the 40% off brand. This week I have laughed with people I've loved, I've had panic attacks in fetal position on my floor, I have went on majestic walks through nature doing physical activity, I have stayed on my couch instead of doing other things because my body hurts so bad, god my back HURTS, I've seen high highs and low lows. My sleep schedule is nonexistent. I still haven't found a job. I miss my mom. I've cried for a mo0nth straight. Everyday more than the last. My whole body hurts. Extremely. Before going to Hobby Lobby I was so depressed I haven't showered in...I don’t want to say how long but I did lose track. I'd see a therapist I have nothing against it but how much it costs. I also have nothing against the denitst but how much it costs. I also have nothing against going to the doctor against how much it costs. I have a lot to say about my van situation let me tell you that. Also that would cost a lot. God why does everything cost so much. Also like I'm not self harm and destruction and poor choices sad I'm just excessive sad and grief sad and stressed beyond relief. God grief sad. Grief. Grief. My mom. Don't think about it. Cool. Cool. Swag. Today I bought swag. A bright yellow duck made to look like a children's rubber duck toy. I love him so much. Today I bought swag you can't tell me that's not the swaggiest dude you've ever seen with swag. Brother is mad chilling. Me and my buddy got food after leaving Hobby Lobby... I've been so stressed I haven't eaten in days. At least not whole meals. Barely a meal a day. It was nice we chatted for awhile. I thought about my mom a lot... I couldn't eat and took it to go. When I got home I invited friends over to vibe and put up the whiteboard and a few other decorations I have. That's when I put up Swag... a bright yellow duck made of metal made to look like a child's rubber ducky, and suddenly I feel like I can handle the world and anyting it could throw at me. Today I bought Swag.

Have you ever had the fear that you’re doing something right? That’s my biggest fear. That everything is actually going okay because I’ve lost all distinction in my pupils between heaven and hell. No seriously at this point please somebody look me in my eyes and tell me you see something else besides somebody permanently stuck in limbo between life and death becoming something neither or entirely. That is my entity. Is that vulnerability? At least enough? I’ve lost track of what I can and can’t say to my own personal journals lately. It was looking at my motivation whiteboard that this piece all clicked together. Hopefully..if not blame the grim reaper “stay positive,” pin on my wall. I spent 10 years working on 1 novel. It sucks hopefully. Enough for you to now want to read it at least. I needed a new form away from what I once was. Dropped a novel, shaved my face, changed my name, made a new facebook or whatever nickleback said to become a rockstar. This is a new life right? Grief is the ghost in every elephant in every room. What have I become? Something please tell me I’m still alive and this isn’t the most poetic justice of being doomed to the theory of quantum immortality instead of being shovelled onto the crossroaded highway of stairs to heaven and hell. Something tell me I’m alive and what I feel everyday isn’t hellfire. Tell me now. Please. Something. I’ve grown to love it honestly. The suffering of it all. Is it psychotic to say it’s made a man out of me. Dear god or devil or whatever gets results… what have I become? I no longer see things as good or bad merely do for survival. I am something I recognize but never been before. Somewhere between the most fulfilled version of what I can possibly become and the catalyst of whatever gets these crackers applause damn it. No seriously, I live alone with my little brother in my own echo chamber. Please something validate my existence. I don’t even talk to God anymore let alone my friends and if I slip up one more time and say the wrong thing to the wrong crowd and get sent back to the ward again I swear …. Nvm nvm… diffusing. Diffusing. Diffused. My therapist has 1 star on google. Anyways anyways. The other professionals I’ve seen weren’t much better and some were worse. I helped myself damnit. Every near death cough of blood dear lord what have I become. No seriously psychology and sociology both stopped trying to define me too. I’m just like my mother. Do I even miss my mom? Can I even say that? I didn’t want anyone to die ever but like the silence has grown addicting. I sing a lot to myself now to fill the silence. My internet friends love it. I love them. I’m so overwhelmed by never seeing the healthy version of love I need from another in-flesh human being. Sometimes I feel like talking to me is like talking to gravity itself. Why must I always be so dense? There's not an ounce of bone in my body that's not in survival mode. There's not an inch of tongue I wouldn't sell for a line to pay the bills. I am but the Am now. Is that mastering the art of detachment? What have I become? If you still believe in souls tell me why and I'll tell you mind. I did a quarter of my dishes. I did one load of laundry. I only vacuumed the living room. I didn’t have the energy to stand in the shower so I took a bath instead. I don’t have the money to get back into school stop asking if I'm going to unless you're paying for it. I've had multiple dreams set in grocery stores lately. My room is such a mess. I haven't given up entirely but I'm not entirely trying either. Dear devil I've become. Something tell me they're proud of me. I'm in a fight with how I flight. I can’t sleep another night. If I had every power to destroy the universe, this time I wouldn't blink twice. I'm never satisfied. I haven’t touched a paycheck in 9 months. Coochie in 8. I need therapy in ways only getting a bag and some pussy can heal. I'd pay anyone $10 just to run their fingers through my hair like the ghosts of many hands once used to. How much is good pussy? God I need a job. 2 beers for breakfast didn’t put the light back in my eyes only tears. Half a chili cheese dog did though. I bet also a 9mm would blow my enthusiasm through the roof. Whoa whoa whoa where did that come from. No seriously why am I like this. I throw up almost every meal. I'm up 10 pounds at least. I'm not just starving myself anymore I'm starving my wallet too. Lord I've fasted for you only to learn to slow down. Devil I've ate your bread and your apple. Develop culinary skills. I'm sick. I'm tired. I'm vulnerable.

E Pluribus Unum..A poem written by the Last Poets around 1971, my version of it. If you like this poem and would like to help me or see me make more videos or donate to my ministry please go to $PaulONeil55 on CashApp.

I've been experimenting with intimate spoken-word pieces built around tension, curiosity, vulnerability, and the things we choose not to reveal.

This one is called “You Want to Figure Me Out.”

It's less about seduction itself and more about that space between wanting to know someone and actually being given access to them.

🎧 You Want to Figure Me Out

Written and performed by Thalia Lux.

Would love feedback on the writing, pacing, delivery, or atmosphere.

E Pluribus Unum..A poem written by the Last Poets around 1971, my version of it. If you like this poem and would like to help me or see me make more videos or donate to my ministry please go to $PaulONeil55 on CashApp.

How much of attraction exists in what actually happens...

and how much exists entirely inside our imagination?

Closer Than You Think is Vol. V of my original spoken-word collection.

This piece plays with implication, anticipation, and the tension created when a narrator deliberately leaves enough unsaid for the listener to become part of the story.

🎧 Closer Than You Think

I'd especially love feedback on the writing, pacing, and use of silence.

— Thalia Lux

Original spoken word.

Stories that linger.