#louisville - Hello Poetry

Two sluggers emerged From Louisville; One fashioned from ash, One molded from Clay. One is The Greatest. Ali.

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Jun 4, 2016

Jun 4, 2016 at 8:29 AM UTC

francie-lynch

The Greatest: Ali

Two sluggers emerged From Louisville; One fashioned from ash, One molded from Clay. One is The Greatest. Ali.

6

Driving through Louisville in a driving rain storm at dusk

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Jul 4, 2015

Jul 4, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC

cori-macnaughton

Harrowing 10w

Driving through Louisville in a driving rain storm at dusk

3

There is a fork in the road where I veered left to merge onto I-65, and I spotted the same bilboard I look up at every day on my commute to work, but now it was at eye level, and I thought to myself, *well, I guess that's what we call perspective.*

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Feb 17, 2015

Feb 17, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC

megb42290

Perspective

There is a fork in the road where I veered left to merge onto I-65, and I spotted the same bilboard I look up at every day on my commute to work, but now it was at eye level, and I thought to myself, *well, I guess that's what we call perspective.*

10

I don't always like (the taste of) bourbon but **** do I like the way it can make me feel; that sting of warmth as it slithers down your esophagus, and suddenly you know all the best dance moves, your voice hits smooth on all the tunes, your jeans hug ya just right, and somehow the night has become yours. Too many bourbons and **** I might get a little mean, but just one or two and I'm the most proud-to-be-from-Louisville- Kentucky girl you've ever seen.

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Dec 26, 2014

Dec 26, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC

megb42290

Bourbon

I don't always like (the taste of) bourbon but **** do I like the way it can make me feel; that sting of warmth as it slithers down your esophagus, and suddenly you know all the best dance moves, your voice hits smooth on all the tunes, your jeans hug ya just right, and somehow the night has become yours. Too many bourbons and **** I might get a little mean, but just one or two and I'm the most proud-to-be-from-Louisville- Kentucky girl you've ever seen.

23

The forest green of the trees contrasts so greatly against the soft pastels in the sky; Did someone paint this neighborhood? The odors of garlic & parsley wafting from across the charcoal street. Hums of today's news, all the latest gossip, ooh'ing and ah'ing; endless snippets of candlelight chatter. Occasional dollops of light peering up from sedans passing by. Sounds of zooms blocked out by the steady pulsating of white earbuds. Dogs yipping, sometimes a real bark. Neighbors come and go, reciprocating cordial hello's. Street lights slowly coming alive, for at 8:37, the sun has begun its transition to slumber. They always say, TGIF, thank god it's Friday. As day slips to nigh', the crackles and pops of vinyl come alive behind a slightly rusted window pane. Tonight's secrets not yet revealed, a couple strolls by holding hands, sipping coffees, decaffeinated. A man drunk with regret and a 40 in his belly, he breathes a clumsy, "Hey." Malted liquor questions, their smell & sound, unmistakable gurgling. Street lights now fully illuminated, glances exchanged from passer-byers. He opens the car door for her, and into the dusk they drive. Vehicles come by in even greater numbers, and still searches the young man for $9, a toothbrush, and a shower, even cold. Just another night of just another day, in just another city, in just another neighborhood on just another street. Silence, loud, ominous silence, filtering the senses, the stories, the magic; Isn't ordinary extraordinary?

0

Apr 19, 2014

Apr 19, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC

megb42290

(EXTRA)Ordinary Old Lou

The forest green of the trees contrasts so greatly against the soft pastels in the sky; Did someone paint this neighborhood? The odors of garlic & parsley wafting from across the charcoal street. Hums of today's news, all the latest gossip, ooh'ing and ah'ing; endless snippets of candlelight chatter. Occasional dollops of light peering up from sedans passing by. Sounds of zooms blocked out by the steady pulsating of white earbuds. Dogs yipping, sometimes a real bark. Neighbors come and go, reciprocating cordial hello's. Street lights slowly coming alive, for at 8:37, the sun has begun its transition to slumber. They always say, TGIF, thank god it's Friday. As day slips to nigh', the crackles and pops of vinyl come alive behind a slightly rusted window pane. Tonight's secrets not yet revealed, a couple strolls by holding hands, sipping coffees, decaffeinated. A man drunk with regret and a 40 in his belly, he breathes a clumsy, "Hey." Malted liquor questions, their smell & sound, unmistakable gurgling. Street lights now fully illuminated, glances exchanged from passer-byers. He opens the car door for her, and into the dusk they drive. Vehicles come by in even greater numbers, and still searches the young man for $9, a toothbrush, and a shower, even cold. Just another night of just another day, in just another city, in just another neighborhood on just another street. Silence, loud, ominous silence, filtering the senses, the stories, the magic; Isn't ordinary extraordinary?

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