kenneth-lee-averiett - Hello Poetry

Matters of the heart should not be handled with your head I don't care what my mother says You're trouble, and you make my head hurt But I love you, and your absence is worse Your body left an ache in my throat I'm attempting to choke it out I come to you for help Because I secretly hate myself

0

Dec 30, 2015

Dec 30, 2015 at 8:28 AM UTC

Untitled

Matters of the heart should not be handled with your head I don't care what my mother says You're trouble, and you make my head hurt But I love you, and your absence is worse Your body left an ache in my throat I'm attempting to choke it out I come to you for help Because I secretly hate myself

8

Don't be afraid It's only love & this is only a guideline & this is only me placing my emotional worth on the line I mean, no big deal, right? What does it say about someone who places such high value on short term happiness? That's dangerous & it's a danger, to us I remember speeding through those traffic lights Pulling those same stunts So familiar & warm & fun & dangerous This is a danger, to us.

0

Aug 1, 2014

Aug 1, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC

Pridex

Don't be afraid It's only love & this is only a guideline & this is only me placing my emotional worth on the line I mean, no big deal, right? What does it say about someone who places such high value on short term happiness? That's dangerous & it's a danger, to us I remember speeding through those traffic lights Pulling those same stunts So familiar & warm & fun & dangerous This is a danger, to us.

16

I seem to recall the timid response I inflicted upon our social value When I would hazard eye contact With you In the food aisle. It was that smile & it was lodged in my throat I couldn't brave a manly voice Struck stupid, & young Love struck, & dumb Thus, it was a wild stroke of luck That we are laying in bed Tucked in & Naked

0

Jul 30, 2014

Jul 30, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC

Dumb Luckx

I seem to recall the timid response I inflicted upon our social value When I would hazard eye contact With you In the food aisle. It was that smile & it was lodged in my throat I couldn't brave a manly voice Struck stupid, & young Love struck, & dumb Thus, it was a wild stroke of luck That we are laying in bed Tucked in & Naked

14

I imagine, this is what I’ll trademark The impossibly early morning commute I’m still drunk It’s 6AM And I’m still wearing my shoes My phone sings with an urgency It ferries the exhausting burden of responsibility It’s 6AM I’ll keep reminding you Or myself Because I have to sigh **** I have to make The Commute 6am My body hangs from my brain In a disjointed way A detached manner Like a consciousness manifesting through a coma If I could forge the willpower Gather some strength in my arm To push my phone off of the desk And silence the alarm I’ll regret it in some way Not even a second thought considered It wasn’t even a hard decision 7:20am As I inhale, and sigh For maybe the seventh time I’m suddenly aware That in this very moment, I’m being held prisoner I’m being forced to make a choice I’m being forced to consider My mind is awash in the buzz of last night And the fade of this morning Austere Varying shades of whites & greys Ohio in December Ohio, the way I’ll remember This is bleak Wearing all of my previous evening Inside and out I feel like sandpaper I smell like 3am Friday night Saturday morning It’s Monday morning And its a dreary 7:30 7:32am I’m wearing this to work This is how well I wear exhaustion I’ll flaunt it in a professional setting In a professional manner A white collar show & tell I’ll groom the bare minimum But I MUST shave my face Just to save face So it doesn’t look like I have a drinking problem Because I don’t I just like to party I treat my body like a machine It’s regarded like a car I can’t afford to keep gas in But I can afford to drive to New York at night and explore A special kind of neglect 7:35 am A single apple A bowl of cereal A bag of chips Some energy to pursue The Commute Literally, running on fumes Literally, every morning Between 6am to 1pm Literally, running late Everyday Responsible living escapes me 7:41am GO! GO! GO! I hit the basement I braced my knees I covered my hands Adjusted to bike the streets Covered in gear Drunk and exhausted The idea of just staying here Is so attractive and real I can taste my doggedness I can still taste the air in my bedroom While I’m in the basement I can also taste….unemployment So, I go. 7:45am Bleak Varying shades of whites & greys Ohio in January Ohio, all the time really Atleast it has the feeling Biking in the elements The air I breath stings something awful In my chest Ice cubes In my breath Snowflakes The blue collar effort Two feet of snow And its still coming This workout//THE COMMUTE For a white collar job Dealing with billing disputes The upkeep of my finacial cause I’m a pest The snow is deep Almost up to my knees I’m a menace I’m an obstacle among perpetual obstacles And we’re all just trying to avoid each other MARKET//MAIN ST. As I start to pick up speed My body begins to adjust My senses waken up And narrowly avoid This, assaulting Mack truck Speeding on a 10speed Down the wrong side of the street Whoops. I’ve got no choice really I can’t see or hear what’s behind me Behind my own panting And Kendrick Lamar’s ranting So down the opposite side of the road I go Around Mack truck smoke & mounds of snow I reach the edge of the street And depending on the day of the week And how generous those patrons are, of St V I could exercise the sidewalk No such luck, So, **** it I’ll fight traffic I’ll keep to the streets And dogde the fleets This is the real challenge This is the adventure… Side to side with traffic Hand in hand with danger Car horns & headlights This lifestyle might really **** me 7:42am Oh, hey look Another middle finger Middle aged driver Righteous anger Righteous motorist STOP! It was on Old Main St. At 7:47am I was almost on the news This is a stanza of dediction to the man in the grey Toyota I’ve developed wonderful instincts I almost died This man sped through the incorrect traffic light So I stopped! Or else I would’ve been on the news At roughly 8:38am Vehicular manslaughter would probably be the charge Probably a hit and run I would not have stopped either I’m this ******* in the middle of the street On a bike I’m an early morning, urban menace I hit the pavement Desolate Varying shades of whites & greys Ohio in February Ohio all the time really Atleast it has the feeling Sprawled, laying in the elements My mind is awash in the buzz of the night Before And the fade of this morning ********* I’m shouting now On the ground, at the sky In the snow, to the ice At these ******* motorists, at my ******* bike A special kind of entitlement I was born in the wrong state, in the wrong place I hit the pavement I skinned my knees And scraped my hands Numb & exhausted The idea of just laying here & giving up is so attractive and real But I can’t…because bill$ I treat my body like a machine I regard it like a toy I can’t put down Even if I choose If afforded the chance, I wouldn’t know what to do Dreary Varying shades of whites and greys Ohio in March I won’t even ******* start 8:01am I show up to work Half drunk and overworked Sleet and snowy down my side And rehearse this white collar ritual After my blue collar effort I’m so ******* tired Living on the edge has this embrace Like something most people couldn’t stomach Most people aren’t built for it Most people aren’t meant to Don’t take this as a challenge, gentle tweeter Or take it as one I’m not saying it can’t be done I accomplish this, twice a day, four in a row, and roughly an odd fifth one.

0

Jul 29, 2014

Jul 29, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC

The Commute

I imagine, this is what I’ll trademark The impossibly early morning commute I’m still drunk It’s 6AM And I’m still wearing my shoes My phone sings with an urgency It ferries the exhausting burden of responsibility It’s 6AM I’ll keep reminding you Or myself Because I have to sigh **** I have to make The Commute 6am My body hangs from my brain In a disjointed way A detached manner Like a consciousness manifesting through a coma If I could forge the willpower Gather some strength in my arm To push my phone off of the desk And silence the alarm I’ll regret it in some way Not even a second thought considered It wasn’t even a hard decision 7:20am As I inhale, and sigh For maybe the seventh time I’m suddenly aware That in this very moment, I’m being held prisoner I’m being forced to make a choice I’m being forced to consider My mind is awash in the buzz of last night And the fade of this morning Austere Varying shades of whites & greys Ohio in December Ohio, the way I’ll remember This is bleak Wearing all of my previous evening Inside and out I feel like sandpaper I smell like 3am Friday night Saturday morning It’s Monday morning And its a dreary 7:30 7:32am I’m wearing this to work This is how well I wear exhaustion I’ll flaunt it in a professional setting In a professional manner A white collar show & tell I’ll groom the bare minimum But I MUST shave my face Just to save face So it doesn’t look like I have a drinking problem Because I don’t I just like to party I treat my body like a machine It’s regarded like a car I can’t afford to keep gas in But I can afford to drive to New York at night and explore A special kind of neglect 7:35 am A single apple A bowl of cereal A bag of chips Some energy to pursue The Commute Literally, running on fumes Literally, every morning Between 6am to 1pm Literally, running late Everyday Responsible living escapes me 7:41am GO! GO! GO! I hit the basement I braced my knees I covered my hands Adjusted to bike the streets Covered in gear Drunk and exhausted The idea of just staying here Is so attractive and real I can taste my doggedness I can still taste the air in my bedroom While I’m in the basement I can also taste….unemployment So, I go. 7:45am Bleak Varying shades of whites & greys Ohio in January Ohio, all the time really Atleast it has the feeling Biking in the elements The air I breath stings something awful In my chest Ice cubes In my breath Snowflakes The blue collar effort Two feet of snow And its still coming This workout//THE COMMUTE For a white collar job Dealing with billing disputes The upkeep of my finacial cause I’m a pest The snow is deep Almost up to my knees I’m a menace I’m an obstacle among perpetual obstacles And we’re all just trying to avoid each other MARKET//MAIN ST. As I start to pick up speed My body begins to adjust My senses waken up And narrowly avoid This, assaulting Mack truck Speeding on a 10speed Down the wrong side of the street Whoops. I’ve got no choice really I can’t see or hear what’s behind me Behind my own panting And Kendrick Lamar’s ranting So down the opposite side of the road I go Around Mack truck smoke & mounds of snow I reach the edge of the street And depending on the day of the week And how generous those patrons are, of St V I could exercise the sidewalk No such luck, So, **** it I’ll fight traffic I’ll keep to the streets And dogde the fleets This is the real challenge This is the adventure… Side to side with traffic Hand in hand with danger Car horns & headlights This lifestyle might really **** me 7:42am Oh, hey look Another middle finger Middle aged driver Righteous anger Righteous motorist STOP! It was on Old Main St. At 7:47am I was almost on the news This is a stanza of dediction to the man in the grey Toyota I’ve developed wonderful instincts I almost died This man sped through the incorrect traffic light So I stopped! Or else I would’ve been on the news At roughly 8:38am Vehicular manslaughter would probably be the charge Probably a hit and run I would not have stopped either I’m this ******* in the middle of the street On a bike I’m an early morning, urban menace I hit the pavement Desolate Varying shades of whites & greys Ohio in February Ohio all the time really Atleast it has the feeling Sprawled, laying in the elements My mind is awash in the buzz of the night Before And the fade of this morning ********* I’m shouting now On the ground, at the sky In the snow, to the ice At these ******* motorists, at my ******* bike A special kind of entitlement I was born in the wrong state, in the wrong place I hit the pavement I skinned my knees And scraped my hands Numb & exhausted The idea of just laying here & giving up is so attractive and real But I can’t…because bill$ I treat my body like a machine I regard it like a toy I can’t put down Even if I choose If afforded the chance, I wouldn’t know what to do Dreary Varying shades of whites and greys Ohio in March I won’t even ******* start 8:01am I show up to work Half drunk and overworked Sleet and snowy down my side And rehearse this white collar ritual After my blue collar effort I’m so ******* tired Living on the edge has this embrace Like something most people couldn’t stomach Most people aren’t built for it Most people aren’t meant to Don’t take this as a challenge, gentle tweeter Or take it as one I’m not saying it can’t be done I accomplish this, twice a day, four in a row, and roughly an odd fifth one.

214