"Your pain may know you but it has no power over you."
Authorized Stewards of Children® Facilitator
Poet | Teaching Artist | Workshop Facilitator
C. Thomas proves to be no stranger to the world of arts. Beginning his career as a serial open mic attendee in 2004, he has been afforded opportunities to showcase his raw talent to the masses.
His work has appeared in Swerv Magazine, Reflections: Prince Georges Community College Fine Arts Magazine, Stoked Words: An Anthology of Queer Poetry from The Capturing Fire Slam and Summit, and Imagoes: A Queer Anthology along with several of his own publications: Moodz’ Ring, Voices Carry, Coloring Outside The Lines, and Bernard’s Bedroom.
Poet, host, author, orator, teaching artist, a Darkness to Light’s Authorized Stewards of Children® Facilitator, and 2019 Finalist for Poet Laureate of Alexandria, he remains an unapologetic voice for social change while challenging mindsets and commanding stages.
Ladies and gentlemen, C. Thomas.
Shouts and Praise
“C. Thomas is a multi-talented teacher, performer, poet, and friend. When he performs, his words fill the room, echoing long after he's left the stage. When he teaches, he lights a fire in the bellies of his students, allowing space for students' talent and ideas. He is savage, unapologetic, and vulnerable.”
-Kristen Zory King, Writer and Founder of MoonLit
"C. Thomas’ work in the world as an artist, facilitator, speaker, and organizer are necessary acts of love and resistance. His fearless and unwavering poems and performances offer salve for the pain of dehumanizing discrimination and harm. His poems – like all his artistic endeavors -- are a celebration of reclaimed power."
“From the Page to the Stage, Poet C. Thomas leaves no stone un-turned. His heartfelt poetry is a dialogue of compassion for Child Abuse Prevention Awareness. He presents poetry purposely for the LGBTQ community that he courageously wears. His poetry gives voice to Black Lives Matter and SGL (Same Gender Loving). He is a delight on stage with a message of love, relatability, and acceptance. His presentation of professionalism is a compelling attractiveness that charms and inspires his audience.To book him is to capture a piece of poetry, truthfulness, and spoken word that only he can give words, voice, and purpose to.”
-KaNikki Jakarta, Poet Laureate of Alexandria, Virginia
No Apologies. No regrets.
How to Gentrify Laundry
A toast to the man that made me possible-my dad.
You weren't the Antichrist, you were just Anti-Chris.
You made me your personal Armageddon
but left me to battle the four horsemen.
It was within your paradise I would never
roam, never would my feet touch the soil
that bared your fruit---I was the forbidden
fruit, the one you joyfully self-righteously
casted from your tree.
Thrown away because I wasn't ripe enough
for the picking but you cherry picked fruitful
memories that would bar me from the family
name and your life.
I learned you took in strays to shield your guilt
while ignoring the innocent---another
counterclockwise turn to the knife in my heart.
I suppose looking at one of your originals was
too much for you to bare so you settled for
xeroxed images because maybe it looked like
a real relationship. What did I do to make you
turn your back so quick and completely? I've
stumbled over my words and choked back
emotions so much because I couldn't find
answers to cure my pain.
The only thing you proved to be was the best
card shark ever known. In your house of cards,
the king had many diamonds but broke every
queen's heart. Keeping an ace up your sleeve,
trying not to reveal you were a fucking joker.
A crook, a con artist running scams. Embezzling
love as for fuck trophies---you walked away with
gold metals and no remorse.
Father: a man who exercises paternal care over
other persons; a paternal protector or provider.
That's how Webster defines you. You were nothing
more than 365 days of empty hellos that provided
cold heartbeats, and for years you were one of the
destroyers of my heaven and creators of my hell.
I've asked my demons to teach me how not to cry,
its something this angel needed to know.
So I raise my glass in honor to never becoming the
father you were. May my future children delight in
the joy of knowing what it is to be loved unconditionally
on purpose. May they never feel one is more of a
favorite than the other. And may they never question
their existence or appearance in hopes of getting
unwarranted attention from strangers to fill voids.
So cheers to the man that walked away and never
Here's to you dad.
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