Goodbye U.S. Hello SU! ~ #3CupsOfJoe Show: Episode 1


Intrinsic Instinct

Intrinsic Instinct by Joe Reid Kirby III

Light …
Like running on the ocean floor,
Deep …
Like the wounds fossilized by blood & gore,
Reap …
Giving so much to the world,
It’s striking you sore,
Because it keeps asking for more,
But you consciously know what you’re doing this for,
Even if you’re the only one that knows …
& where there is less speech,
True intentions,
Being action,
Shows …
For eyes that have been in the darkness for so long,
Once you climb out of the hole,
Everything glows …
Where there is nature,
Allowed to nurture,
Everything grows …
Only after you’ve listened to the body,
& trained the brain,
Can the soul do what it already actually knows.

~ Joe Reid Kirby III 2/10/17


© 2017 3CupsOfJoe. All rights reserved.

So Many Questions …

So Many Questions … by Joe Reid Kirby III

Everyone wants to be seen. All want to be heard. It is human instinct to desire the often brief connection with our existence. Do you really exist if no one sees you? Are you even on the same planet as everyone else if no one hears you? The sight of your beauty blends in to the crowd. The sound of your voice only adds to the noise.

Even surrounded by people, you’re somehow still lost. Everybody is so busy worrying about their next task, that they walk right past you. If you were to fall to the ground, they’d still walk over you, as if you’re an obstacle to their travel to nowhere; and don’t stay down for too long, or they just might walk all over you. You’ve been trampled a few times haven’t you? The stampede towards greed holds out no hand; other than to help one’s self to grabbing what you or anyone else has to offer freely.

Can’t you see your dot, on this black and white screen? Do your ears not hurt from all the noise? Can your eyes take looking at it for more than 8 seconds, before you’re annoyed? Anger stems from the anxiety deployed. It’s becoming harder every day to simply imagine a life overjoyed.

Throw a hundred dollar bills out and watch the frenzy. Reveal your art to the busy streets and hear the silence. Have the ears not been trained well enough to notice those crying out through violence? Are the most ill-behaved children not those whom are traded attention for things? How are we then expected to realize the value in other beings? After all, things do what you want them to … most of the time. Beings, on the other hand, are out of control. Brains tend to spill over in a cereal bowl. The mind can’t be fed with an inanimate spoon. Your role in this life parallels that of an animate toon.

Rulers of the masses measure just how far we haven’t come. You’ve been deemed too dumb — for being responsible for yourself and your environment. Have you not given any thought to the fact that you were only taught how to work within this system until retirement? What are beyond these walls you have yet to breach? Did the greatest teachers of all time need to pay for a certificate to teach? Just how far can your voice really reach?

You didn’t pay enough attention in science class to understand this intrinsic frequency I speak of, did you? Why should you have to pay anyway? Is attention not our birthright? Should inner love not be our only worksite?

Can you not see the webs they’ve spun on your sight? And now you’re running around blinded, anxious, and scared; afraid that you’re about to die. Before you go though, have you even given life a full try? I see you. Now, play the instruments — you’ve been gifted talents for — louder; so that all around the world may listen and explore.

© 2017 3CupsOfJoe. All rights reserved.

YOU are YOU. I Am ME. WE are WE.

YOU are YOU. I Am ME. WE are WE. by Joe Reid Kirby III

YOU are YOU.

I Am ME.

WE are WE.

Free to be,

All you see,


Over reality,

And practicality,

Creating our own actuality,

Choosing quality,

Be equality,

The wealth found in poverty,

Spiritual sovereignty,

The beings’ entirety,

You are not society,

YOU are YOU. I Am ME. WE are WE.
Listen to this Spoken Word Poetry on YouTube:


© 2017 3CupsOfJoe. All rights reserved.

Mirror Minded (Classic Poem)

Mirror Minded by Joe Reid Kirby III

People please look into yourself,
Look at your lifestyle,
Look at how your surroundings have affected you,
Infected you,
No longer you,
Your mind infested with unproductive thoughts,
I say “your,”
But I am too in the same boat,
However I admit my being lost from the shores of myself,
I swore up and down I didn’t need help,
But I wasn’t myself,
And after 20 years on this planet I have just realized,
Just now opened my eyes,
I looked in the mirror,
I didn’t see myself,
I saw what this world wanted me to be,
And what my environment made me out to be,
I have began to look for myself,
And along my trail of not back-tracking,
But researching my history,
I have found the pieces of me that have weathered away over the years,
I still find new pieces day by day,
For I am far from a perfect man,
And trying to find these pieces in a world of sand,
Makes it even harder to see my plan,
Yeah I was the truth,
But now I am real,
Yeah I didn’t change for anyone,
But now I don’t even have to claim not having to,
Yeah I knew everything,
But after finding out I knew a small bit of nothing,
I search for answers to what I don’t know or have questions about,
If only the world,
This world,
Were filled with people whom truly know themselves,
No front would have to be put on for anyone,
There would be no need to fit in,
No one would be lost,
Because we’d all be found,
Within ourselves,
Behind those eyelids,
And under that skin,
Who are you?
How can you find you?
What is your purpose here?
Where will you go when you expire from here?
When will you find the truth, your truth, your being?
All questions we should ask ourselves on a daily basis,
And live by,
For if you are not living,
Then you are dying,
And if you are dying,
How long will you be living?
Live each day like your last,
Don’t be afraid of your past,
Use it and your knowledge to head for your brightest future at full blast!

~ Joe Reid Kirby III 5/7/10


If you like my vibe, please SUBSCRIBE.

© 2017 3CupsOfJoe. All rights reserved.

My Demise

My Demise by Joe Reid Kirby III

Dreams of my demise used to shake me up,
But fear has been more frightened of me ever since life decided to wake me up,
A dark room I dwelled in for so long illuminated my mind,
Jail or prison has nothing on this bondage called time,
As these beads of sand rain in this hour glass we live within,
I see so many walking around in life just to pretend,
Never knowing when or where to start their journey before it abruptly ends,
& most don’t make it to find it out because time is all they spend,
Staring at this white wall though I’ve found I have no such time,
I can’t afford to sit around & read every line,
For it’s times like this I feel like a poor man when it comes to time,
& my insecurities & doubts often invite me out to dine,
Watching the hands on the clock won’t make my hands move any faster,
& the numbers I study in numerology won’t protect me from disaster,
I live wrapped up in all I want,
Buried by my desires,
& time slips further & further away as tonight I plan for an early retire,
Lay my head upon this plush bed & dream of my demise,
Only to awake to another day,
Another chance to live, love, laugh, & be the expression of life’s surprise.

~ Joe Reid Kirby III ~ 1/24/13


(Ownership of artwork is unknown.)

P.S. If you like my vibe, please SUBSCRIBE.

© 2017 3CupsOfJoe. All rights reserved.

Thumbs Up! The Power of the Infamous LIKE Button

Thumbs Up! The Power of the Infamous LIKE Button by Joe Reid Kirby III

Whether you’ve witnessed that guy purposely making a complete fool of himself; or the butt-naked girl revealing it all for her followers, one thing is for sure: “likes” are incredibly powerful — and their power only seems to be increasing by the day.

So what will become of this new form of money? It looks as though likes have grown to a similar value as the almighty dollar. Everyone seems to desire a massive amount of likes, almost equal to their lust of monetary gain. So much so, that they’re even willing to exchange their morality for that instant gratification of notifications.

I can recall when the ‘thumbs up’ variation of sign language translated into something as simple as, “that’s cool.” Today though, that same form of innocent symbolism has become synonymous with a wide array of impure inclinations, including, but not limited to: “If I don’t get at least a hundred likes, I’m obviously a failure at life.” “I’d love to tap that, so let me double-tap this.” “How many thumbs does it take to talk to this ultra-popular person I’ve never met & likely never will?” (& my personal favorite …) “Heads down, thumbs up, let’s play WTF!”

No really, what in the world is going on with society? Has our reliance on technology completely deadened the nerve endings connecting our thought-process to our physical actions? Give me a thumbs up, for a “hell yeah!”


On a more serious note, it seems the likes of these likes have been affecting us on a much deeper, psychological level. We’ve grown (or should I say, devolved) to the point of which our confidence in self is anchored upon the gravity of one’s popularity in the social media world. In other words, likes release ample amounts of dopamine into your bloodstream and cause you to feel good about yourself; while the lack thereof, boomerangs an individuals’ insecurities and causes them to think poorly of themselves. While this may be great for the developers profiting off of this ingenious scheme, it could be detrimental to the mental health of these social media site abusers … I mean users.

Is it really the fault of the super-rich, whom create these susceptible ploys, which the unfortunate unconsciously latch onto? I think not. The grand issue hardly ever points to the creators to blame. The problem lies within the consumers; for it is them, and them alone, who’ve too often given overly-inflated value to what the creators create. Don’t like that theory? I’m not very fond of the thumb fetish anyway.

The truth may remind your tastebuds of unsalted leafy greens, but believe me when I say, “it’s good for you!” So open up, because here comes the sane train. Choo, choooo … Choose to gauge your intrinsic worth by means outside of the quantity of likes on your best-out-of-ten-takes selfie. There could be a number of annoying reasons why the nosey ‘friends’ you have little to no association with offline, lazily skipped over your meaningful content; and instead reserved your like for the semi-comical colon or publicly exposed vagina on their timeline. The world may never know.

Seek confirmation of who you are through yourself. No amount of likes is capable of making you any better or worse of a person than you already are. If you’re a good person at heart with only a few likes per post, you’re still a good person. If you’re a human asswipe with thousands of likes per post, you’re still an asswipe. It’s really that simple.

Look at likes, followers, and all of that other cliche’ crap as an adult numbers game: the persons with the highest scores have likely been playing the game a lot longer than you have, or simply have the cheat codes. Behind those seemingly astronomical numbers, you’ll find that your idols are just like you. Human.

On that note, there’s nothing more human than wanting to be somebody, with an important speaking role, on this crowded world stage. That feeling in itself is completely normal … but only if you’re being inspired by it and not consumed by it.

What a shame it would be for you to decide not to inspire one person, all because you’re not yet in the position to influence many. You’re already the main character to someone out there. Isn’t that what it’s all about anyway? Likes will never — emphasis on ever — be greater than LOVE.

© 2017 3CupsOfJoe. All rights reserved.

She is Art (Reader’s Favorite Love Poem)

She is Art by Joe Reid Kirby III

She is a butterfly,
Flying from her waist,
Off her hip,
And so very hard to catch,
Yet the beat of her brightly colored wings are strong,
As the way she moves is a song.

She is a tree,
A tree of life with no leaves,
Her fruits have fallen,
As she burst through the earth in February of ’91,
Not long before spring,
She is strong & robust,
Her roots are deep in the soil,
Penetrating the skin of the earth,
Yet she knows not how far her roots reach,
The rain from her tears,
Whether joyful or pain,
Soaks every layer of her rich lumber,
Birds find her branches comforting to sleep for a while,
However their true nature often takes them away,
Leaving her there alone in the night,
Finding more of her patience & strength within her slow growth.

She is a rose,
Fully blossomed & gleaming,
Admired by every eye,
The glitter on her petals,
From soaking up the sunlight,
Leaves her multitude of colors beaming,
A single rose,
On an entangled stem of thorns,
Seemingly begging to be held,
Yet insuring all are forewarned,
Bold enough to stand alone,
And unique enough to stand out in a dozen,
Leaves fall from her stem,
“He loves me or he loves me not,”
Is her personal poetic hymn.

She is a dandelion,
Ever affected by the wind,
Every seed blown away from her bud,
Is how she treats her sin,
She is fun,
And doesn’t mind letting go,
Hands are often in the air,
If you show interest in her peculiar ways,
The smallest pieces of her will make you happy for many days,
Yet she is nature,
And if you do not see or notice her she doesn’t care,
But to never witness the goodness she brings,
To any heart isn’t fair.

She is blue,
For to her, “To love a man is to sell your soul,”
And she’s fully sold her soul but twice,
Men to her are now like mice,
She makes them believe in the cheese,
Then their throats she’ll slice,
For she is blue,
Her heart has grown mighty cold too,
Winter days in Alaska’s February is how you could now describe her heat,
Lay your head on her breasts,
As within her you rest,
And you’d swear you heard not a beat,
For her last deal with the devil left her soul depressed,
And her public blues expresses her lack of love,
Though she’ll swear that true unconditional love is what she desires,
From the top of the heavens to the bottoms of her feet,
Yet when that very love comes knocking on that blue door,
She dismisses all feelings & emotion,
And only calls for the meat.

She is art,
For her and the very essence of life is not far apart,
Angles and lines,
Shapes and shades,
Beauty is in the way her pencil behaves,
Color is what brings infinite time to the days,
Only a few special people can appreciate art,
Separating a meaning from a picture for most could seem tart,
For she is odd,
Yet her being makes perfect sense,
She is imperfect,
Yet her Creator sculpted her with perfection in mind,
She is ever changing,
For you can’t lock away a universal meaning of one creative souls thoughts,
She’s thought-provoking,
Ever mind choking,
And keeps people hoping,
Low key stimulating every sense,
Blood, sweat, and tears poured from every pore are nothing too immense,
A story that never ends,
An emotion splattered on a canvas then given a spin,
A feeling,
A thought,
A mind,
Or a heart,
A breath,
A fart,
A mark,
Or a spark,
The seen,
The blind,
A clock,
Or a space without time,
A love,
A hate,
A face,
Or the shadow of something erased,
And below,
And without,
And nothing,
She is art …
And art is life.

~ Joe Reid Kirby III 5/3/2014


© 2017 3CupsOfJoe. All rights reserved.

Life Catcher’s

Life Catcher’s by Joe Reid Kirby III

How worthless it is to run from life,
To shy away from understanding,
Unconscious to the teachings life has to offer,
& wisdom,
It is reaching out & personally handing,
Though catching lightning bolts could often times seem scary,
But imagine the pure sense of joy in catching one in your bare hands,
Wrapping it around your left ring finger,
& deciding that feeling to marry,
The thought alone is hard to carry …
Especially in a 3 pound brain,
Anxiety over committing to life …
Without envisioning ball & chain,
All an illusion boxing your mind,
Programming your character’s channels,
Handing over your remote control to others to handle,
& quite possibly scramble,
Instead of writing your own words on the land,
With every stride your legs make & location you stand,
Life Catcher’s …
Catching life by the hand,
Swinging with it in indigenous forests of fun,
Decorated with bioluminescent ornaments with heartbeats,
Those who can look up & see their own feet,
Or look down & see their head,
One with the middle-path of all living beings,
Awareness to the stories in every book,
Every body longing only to be read,
But you must be open to sharing your story,
You harness words that need to be said,
No one though will ever read your mind,
If you fail to plant it in Earth’s garden,
Where rare seeds & fertile soils bed,
& the slightly salted water borrowed from the wells of sadness & laughter,
Soften all that has hardened.

~ Joe Reid Kirby III 2/3/17


Be sure to check out my very first Spoken Poetry video, featuring this poem, on YouTube! If you like my vibe, please SUBSCRIBE.

© 2017 3CupsOfJoe. All rights reserved.


Pearls by Joe Reid Kirby III

Natural Pearls form when an irritant – usually a parasite and not the proverbial grain of sand – works its way into an oyster, mussel, or clam. As a defense mechanism, a fluid is used to coat the irritant. Layer upon layer of this coating, called ‘nacre’, is deposited until a lustrous pearl is formed.” —

Can’t allow thoughts of hate to consume my fate,
I kept myself too wide open and should have closed the gate,
A long while ago, but I could not wait,
And every hook thrown out, I jumped at the bait,
And the love had gravity gone, so I couldn’t feel the weight,
Returning to reality though, crashed on me pretty hard,
It’s unfortunate I once again opened up without a guard,
And who to blame, but ones self, when falling for deceit,
And who to cry for, but ones self, after meeting defeat,
This is a very familiar realm I’ve stood in though,
According to my memory, not long ago,
To know that I keep myself in this vicious cycle,
And ignorantly choose not to let go,
But how is one to drop one chamber of their heart?
Fearing that dropping one will make the whole heart fall apart,
Plenty of time to sit and think, as I gain the spoils of the world,
But fearful to give back, because I’ve once lost everything, except my boy and girl,
Drawing back my fear slowly, and preparing to show the world,
The only way to lose that pain is to the masses, I hurl,
My whole heart,
Hoping there’s someone out there who can fix it,
Before I expire from this immense pain, brought on by a pearl.

~ Joe Reid Kirby III 8/22/12



#3CupsOfJoe … Peace. LOVE. Understanding.

© 2017 3CupsOfJoe. All rights reserved.