Welcome to The Craft Room, where imagination runs wild and absolutely anything can become a poem.

The residents have a lot going on in their heads, and this is where they come to get it all out.

Some write to feel better, others seem to enjoy making themselves miserable. Some are looking for love, others just want someone to play with. And a few are simply here to show off.

There are no rules here. Words get twisted, meanings get manipulated, and the truth is sometimes buried beneath a whole lot of bullshit.

You’ll find everything from heartfelt confessions to completely ridiculous creations.

Grab a pen, make a mess.

We do some of our best work that way.

Meet a resident:

Anxious Alice

An anxious Alice marches to meet the madness with a methodical pocket full of poetry
pieces of paper layered lovely
hungry to take caterpillars from the oppressor’s possession and protect them
champion freedom in this atrium
cocoons, a butterfly’s womb
mushroom a cloud, KABOOM!
Ant Acid reigns, proclaims this domain
safe haven for the winged ones
only once upon a time can this ever be done
“Now beat drums and speak the words you have brought”
the populace applauds
Alice had practiced, she was prepared to deliver
opens her mouth and off her tongue comes a picture
a hologram or a hallucination?
doesn’t matter it’s her imagination seen in beautiful illumination
the crowd is in awe of her; there’s justified celebration
energized by their acceptance
the colors of her verses strengthen
vivid bold hues of blues and greens as she reads
describes her own feelings of depression
and envy of the ones who are happy
velvety red ropes wrap themselves around her wrists 
as she raises her fists
she speaks of sexual fantasy and a canopy of mirrors appears overhead
arms now suspended, audience is without breath
poem after poem recited with a guided tour
she had never felt so confident in herself, so secure
this is what she came for
what she had been born to do, stand proud in her experiences 
in front of all of you