I was made of discarded peach pits that fall along the sides of garbage cans at gas stations,
made up of crying on the front door steps when I was 9 because my brother wasn't on the bus with me,
made up of the same swampy goo that creates the bogs and swamps and marshes I hope to spend the rest of my life,
made up or every **** moment I remember sleeping and waking up at 3 am and wondering why god.
this poem is about me
I used to hate waking up in the middle of the night,
the gentle glow of a snore resonating from two pipes,
would shake me as my eyes would close,
but now during the rest of the days, you know mon-thurs,
I find that my ears can't take it,
they are tired of being lonely,
scared of not being held by the gentle whisk of a growl,
sad that your half of the bed is being held up,
by 107 miles that separate my ears from you nose.
i am in a long distance relationship
I feel trees come out of the base of each spinal column,
When I creek in the morning a thousand nesting birds sing for my arrival,
my vascular cambium fillls its lungs with life and breathes it out too,
my only hope is that fire comes and clears the understory for my seeds.
its kinda weird. idk how I feel about this yet. at first it seems like I wanna make a poem about the missing piece of ecology in my region. but the more I think about it, it feels like I have been more privileged than I originally thought.
I'm tired of falling asleep with Bill Gates watching my every snore,
YouTube, Hulu, Netflix gluing my eyes open to often persistent demons,
to a constant glow where media seems to live and eminate.
I'm tired of dreaming of lebron James being as good as Michael Jordan,
of being shoved onto a train when my knees ache at the spokes of a bike wheel that I've had since I was was 18,
of being force fed Tyson when prairie chickens used to roam freely across Tennessee.
I used to dream at night,
the blue light filter nonexistant in the glow of a soft yellow,
to crawl next to next to my cats who sleep next to me,
my throat and wrists free of the wires that connect me to a gigabyte speed ethernet port,
I used to not be nauseous when I would wake up.
so I wrote this song because I have been spending too much time on YouTube. I have just been feeling like I need to take more responsibility for my uptake of information
I gear up every night at 2pm,
for years I would strap myself in,
to rockets and robots and spaceships taking us far away from.
a sleeping bag surrounds me,
like a submarine,
only to be cracked open,
every night at 2pm.
I'm new to poetry!
Anytime I go out for breakfast it makes me homesick,
nowhere I have lived, though,
Something that runs in my veins,
Tennessee just isn't wild enough for me.
We don't make gravy with Sausage,
My grandma didn't make it that way,
My mom didn't make it that way,
And me and brother don't either.
So when someone makes me biscuits and gravy,
I often don't like it,
It isn't anything wrong with the flour or fat or meat they put in,
oh wait, there is
Often times I get homesick, all it takes is 3 cups of milk to make that happen
Our blood has always ran black,
some say it's the coal,
or the gunpowder,
I know it's both
passion, helmets, caves,
helicopters, tanks, graves
I was born to set flowers at the graves of people who tried to be good men.
to plant flowers at the aging yards or clearcuts,
to set seed in the hearts of a lost appalachia,
to lay in empty creeks and cry for the sedge grasses that once covered me.
— The End —