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"appalachians" poems
Warning: The seagull flying over the Appalachians could not possibly be amused by the puzzles of an illegitimate composer and the skyscrapers climbed. 1. The skyscrapers were played by tall rocks a girl climbed when she couldn't remember if the cape she wore was made from steel or newspaper. 11. The newspaper they all read together that morning (girl, boy, king, etc) promised nothing but a fifty percent chance of dandelions terrorizing the bus stop. 2. The bus stop had since become a dealer corner and the sunset behind the mountains was blocked by the flipping hair of a lost boy. 7. The boy bought a toy for cheap -- it had a built-in laser, so she stole it to blast a whole hole in that guilt-ridden quilt hung over the four dollar love seat. 6. The love seat, she bought the day he went to maple -- the soap dispenser was broken, but she couldn't find anything new (that she knew) to wash her hands with. 5. The hands that handed her a hammer were covered in promotions, so she stole the motorcycle when they were watching the scarecrow going through electric-shock, disco therapy. 8. The therapy that she received from the parrot-king and his troupe of square roots was enough to make her not forget not regret the boy with feathers in his ears. 10. The ears she woke up with one morning were different in shape than before and the black fur she knew was growing before her eyes. 3. The eyes of the boy were wider than the nightly news station promised, and there wasn't really a difference between caves and boxes in a town that small. 4.   The town she arrived in didn't have a carpool lane or derby, so she had to take her pet goldfish to the river for his depressive state. 9. The river wasn't as flooded after a couple weeks of changing the tune on the jukebox she found way before the departure of her white gold pearls. 12. The pearls she wore for her coming-of-age were buried beneath a dirt mound when she promised herself to always insist on herself.
0
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 10:49 AM UTC
Seagull Schmeagull
Warning: The seagull flying over the Appalachians could not possibly be amused by the puzzles of an illegitimate composer and the skyscrapers climbed. 1. The skyscrapers were played by tall rocks a girl climbed when she couldn't remember if the cape she wore was made from steel or newspaper. 11. The newspaper they all read together that morning (girl, boy, king, etc) promised nothing but a fifty percent chance of dandelions terrorizing the bus stop. 2. The bus stop had since become a dealer corner and the sunset behind the mountains was blocked by the flipping hair of a lost boy. 7. The boy bought a toy for cheap -- it had a built-in laser, so she stole it to blast a whole hole in that guilt-ridden quilt hung over the four dollar love seat. 6. The love seat, she bought the day he went to maple -- the soap dispenser was broken, but she couldn't find anything new (that she knew) to wash her hands with. 5. The hands that handed her a hammer were covered in promotions, so she stole the motorcycle when they were watching the scarecrow going through electric-shock, disco therapy. 8. The therapy that she received from the parrot-king and his troupe of square roots was enough to make her not forget not regret the boy with feathers in his ears. 10. The ears she woke up with one morning were different in shape than before and the black fur she knew was growing before her eyes. 3. The eyes of the boy were wider than the nightly news station promised, and there wasn't really a difference between caves and boxes in a town that small. 4.   The town she arrived in didn't have a carpool lane or derby, so she had to take her pet goldfish to the river for his depressive state. 9. The river wasn't as flooded after a couple weeks of changing the tune on the jukebox she found way before the departure of her white gold pearls. 12. The pearls she wore for her coming-of-age were buried beneath a dirt mound when she promised herself to always insist on herself.
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65
THE MOUTH of this man is a gaunt strong mouth. The head of this man is a gaunt strong head. The jaws of this man are bone of the Rocky Mountains, the Appalachians. The eyes of this man are chlorine of two sobbing oceans, Foam, salt, green, wind, the changing unknown. The neck of this man is pith of buffalo prairie, old longing and new beckoning of corn belt or cotton belt, Either a proud Sequoia trunk of the wilderness Or huddling lumber of a sawmill waiting to be a roof. Brother mystery to man and mob mystery, Brother cryptic to lifted cryptic hands, He is night and abyss, he is white sky of sun, he is the head of the people. The heart of him the red drops of the people, The wish of him the steady gray-eagle crag-hunting flights of the people. Humble dust of a wheel-worn road, Slashed sod under the iron-shining plow, These of service in him, these and many cities, many borders, many wrangles between Alaska and the Isthmus, between the Isthmus and the Horn, and east and west of Omaha, and east and west of Paris, Berlin, Petrograd. The blood in his right wrist and the blood in his left wrist run with the right wrist wisdom of the many and the left wrist wisdom of the many. It is the many he knows, the gaunt strong hunger of the many.
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2.3k
A Tall Man
What a night! – Them boys been frenzied! Mouths all a'watterin' over sea cows in a wattering hole! I guess I didn't know what it was. Knew 'twas a gorgeous schism! This is some iced-to-the-bone antebellum romanticism, and how– Ba-loo! Sing it, fleur de lis! Remember that these things never really happened. Them manatees happen'd upon shined-out appalachians. And I tell you– And I wonder... I wonder quite a lot these days. These days gettin' longer yet, the sun's yet to rise.
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Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 6:41 AM UTC
Sea Cows
The witches and waitresses of the Appalachians follow only one God. I have seen her on occasion carving midnight embers from her spine illuminating a divine magic found only in the season of the Gemini. She hunts by moonlight chasing the sweetest perfume of the mountains indulging in the whims of the lilacs. In my dreams she spins with the moon dancing circles ‘round my room. The dirt of which woman is made will be sifted in the hands of the Appalachian Woman God. And in my sleep I witness the creation of Wild Woman - a divine prophet setting the countryside ablaze in a rebellion of foxfire.
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Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 5:21 PM UTC
The Woman God of Appalachia
advance floorplay that's how these fourplay money, power, respect, thats my forte lifes a ***** that's what my dog say. i walk the talk- don't listen to Beyond-says karma busy gettin that foreplay while finishing first, . seems to be my forte. life goes around, and it **** around, been waiting all day. i expect the same around fourty these dudes don't measure up my spit game slicker than WD-40 turn a grown man to a shorty i'm even first in 1st class, the view is excellant serving these fools, I'm a lyrical savant if i'm talking about the keys, i could be trippin I frequent flyer miles, so i must be trippin i'm frequently flyer, now that's advertising! And they still won't give a nikka credit, how surprising! took it like a grain of salt, now the steaks is meszmerizing sipping Moet over the rocks, appalachians me myself and my iphone uniting nations they just hope its Opuss, with your hokus pukas you can point fingers, just don't poke us I fear no one, cause life ain't a fear they still criticize god, so I'm fair ground speak it into to manifest, let got then handle the rest, with fanase and since i got a heart of gold, all i do is treasure chest.
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
styles Freestyles
I have been Friendzoned, Many a time. It is a common experience Among both geneders, For it is truly The best way Do deal With that issue. But now, Now let me tell you Of a far greater pain And longing. For I have been Timezoned. For my love, She is across the country, Our great country, Our far too expansive country. She is over hills and mountains, Rivers and valleys, Plains and forests. She is over the Appalachians, Past the Blue Ridge Around the myriad waterfalls Of Western North Carolina, All sparkling in their magnificence As the light crests over the hill, Spilling into their deep pools And flowing drops, Yet they all, All of them, Pale in comparison to her, To her golden skin, Her flashing eyes, Her smile That beams down upon you And radiates with Joy and happiness, And her hair, So-called ***** blonde, But to me, There is no purer, For it flows More freely Than the waterfalls And looks Even more gorgeous As the sunlight hits. For she is more beautiful Than a Sunset Upon the lake Where she lives. She is over the great Mississippi, Which flows from Canada All the way to the Gulf of Mexico, Streaming across our country As a boarder Twixt east And west. The only thing Even larger That I know Is her kindness And compassion, For those are Without end. She lies Past the cornfields of Nebraska And past the plains Of the olden tribes. My love lies beyond them, And of all things She alone Could make those miles of wheat Joyous To drive through. She lies over the Rockies, Past the Tetons, And around the great apple orchards Of her state. For her I would climb The Rockies, Tunnel through The Tetons, And harvest Every apple In the state. But alas, That would help me No more Than hacking off a limb. To be timezoned then, Is to end What barely began Not because Anyone wants to But because Simple geography And age Makes it impossible. It feels far worse Knowing that, If you were there, If you lived within A three-hour drive, You would be With her. But alas, I am not. I live Forty-five hours Of non-stop driving To the east And south. A seventy-hour long bus ride, And a 6 hour long flight. And yet I know That if I were there I would be with her. But I am not, And so someone else Is. What hurts More than rejection Is acceptance And then having The cruel fates Swoop down And stop What would have been Amazing. What could have been Perfection. But what was instead That Which barely Happened.
0
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 12:56 AM UTC
Timezoned
I have been Friendzoned, Many a time. It is a common experience Among both geneders, For it is truly The best way Do deal With that issue. But now, Now let me tell you Of a far greater pain And longing. For I have been Timezoned. For my love, She is across the country, Our great country, Our far too expansive country. She is over hills and mountains, Rivers and valleys, Plains and forests. She is over the Appalachians, Past the Blue Ridge Around the myriad waterfalls Of Western North Carolina, All sparkling in their magnificence As the light crests over the hill, Spilling into their deep pools And flowing drops, Yet they all, All of them, Pale in comparison to her, To her golden skin, Her flashing eyes, Her smile That beams down upon you And radiates with Joy and happiness, And her hair, So-called ***** blonde, But to me, There is no purer, For it flows More freely Than the waterfalls And looks Even more gorgeous As the sunlight hits. For she is more beautiful Than a Sunset Upon the lake Where she lives. She is over the great Mississippi, Which flows from Canada All the way to the Gulf of Mexico, Streaming across our country As a boarder Twixt east And west. The only thing Even larger That I know Is her kindness And compassion, For those are Without end. She lies Past the cornfields of Nebraska And past the plains Of the olden tribes. My love lies beyond them, And of all things She alone Could make those miles of wheat Joyous To drive through. She lies over the Rockies, Past the Tetons, And around the great apple orchards Of her state. For her I would climb The Rockies, Tunnel through The Tetons, And harvest Every apple In the state. But alas, That would help me No more Than hacking off a limb. To be timezoned then, Is to end What barely began Not because Anyone wants to But because Simple geography And age Makes it impossible. It feels far worse Knowing that, If you were there, If you lived within A three-hour drive, You would be With her. But alas, I am not. I live Forty-five hours Of non-stop driving To the east And south. A seventy-hour long bus ride, And a 6 hour long flight. And yet I know That if I were there I would be with her. But I am not, And so someone else Is. What hurts More than rejection Is acceptance And then having The cruel fates Swoop down And stop What would have been Amazing. What could have been Perfection. But what was instead That Which barely Happened.
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138
I traveled almost everywhere, growing up. It took years. The landscapes, flora and fauna, the art, music, cuisines and curse words all seem to blend together in my mind. Mount Fuji, the Rhine, the Himalayas, the Chattahoochee, Shenzhen, Washington DC, the Alps, and Appalachians, Moscow, Beijing, Dublin, Portland, Paris, Atlanta, London, St. Petersburg, Tokyo, Rome, Wuhan, Berlin, the Yangtze, the Mississippi, Saint-Tropez and LA - are all jumbled up in my brain, like old, wrinkled maps in a glove compartment. My mom has total recall - she can remember every day of her life since her mama handed her a faded yellow and blue rattle when she was 6 months old - God gave me the glove compartment. Still, some things are unforgettable, like an electrical storm breaking around Mt Everest, the lights of New York City, at night, from a helicopter, glittering on the horizon like a queen’s crown. The Danube, from a riverboat under a too-bright moon and the elegant poverty of Italy. In some ways, I grew up like an exile because we moved every couple of years and I’d have to start my social life all over again - usually in a different language. Every place we left seemed a lost paradise, and each new place seemed cold and harsh. Speaking of home to harsh transitions, November recess is over and we’re back in New Haven - with two weeks before final exams. Welcome to exhaustion week (weeks). This morning I started going through my syllabuses, and after a week of holidaying - they seemed like indecipherable relics from a different world, a world of papers, tests and stingy-fun. I’ve so many things to wrap-up, my brain can’t seem to contain them all, I’m a gadget that’s out of memory. I used to take my books on vacation, to remain in the ‘game’ mentally and stay ahead of the grind. Not this time. Hey, growing up, I’ve had my moments of ‘developmentally appropriate’ rebellion - in this case - I wanted memories to hoard, like inoculations against the coming work and loneliness cycles.
0
Nov 25, 2023
Nov 25, 2023 at 9:07 PM UTC
traveled
I traveled almost everywhere, growing up. It took years. The landscapes, flora and fauna, the art, music, cuisines and curse words all seem to blend together in my mind. Mount Fuji, the Rhine, the Himalayas, the Chattahoochee, Shenzhen, Washington DC, the Alps, and Appalachians, Moscow, Beijing, Dublin, Portland, Paris, Atlanta, London, St. Petersburg, Tokyo, Rome, Wuhan, Berlin, the Yangtze, the Mississippi, Saint-Tropez and LA - are all jumbled up in my brain, like old, wrinkled maps in a glove compartment. My mom has total recall - she can remember every day of her life since her mama handed her a faded yellow and blue rattle when she was 6 months old - God gave me the glove compartment. Still, some things are unforgettable, like an electrical storm breaking around Mt Everest, the lights of New York City, at night, from a helicopter, glittering on the horizon like a queen’s crown. The Danube, from a riverboat under a too-bright moon and the elegant poverty of Italy. In some ways, I grew up like an exile because we moved every couple of years and I’d have to start my social life all over again - usually in a different language. Every place we left seemed a lost paradise, and each new place seemed cold and harsh. Speaking of home to harsh transitions, November recess is over and we’re back in New Haven - with two weeks before final exams. Welcome to exhaustion week (weeks). This morning I started going through my syllabuses, and after a week of holidaying - they seemed like indecipherable relics from a different world, a world of papers, tests and stingy-fun. I’ve so many things to wrap-up, my brain can’t seem to contain them all, I’m a gadget that’s out of memory. I used to take my books on vacation, to remain in the ‘game’ mentally and stay ahead of the grind. Not this time. Hey, growing up, I’ve had my moments of ‘developmentally appropriate’ rebellion - in this case - I wanted memories to hoard, like inoculations against the coming work and loneliness cycles.
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8
Wide eyed and open in astonishment I watch Those long and curving red nailed fingers Close around me in the evening, Sun setting in the windows of the Hudson Shenandoah or St. Augustine. You gather yourself down And hurl your graceful throat against me. Wide eyed and open in astonishment you rise Toward long slow strokes My hands above you in the morning, Daylight in the windows of New Jersey Rhinebeck or the Appalachians. Your belly rises in my hand My fingers splay inside your shivering. There have been many places; fields and orchards Tombs and cenotaphs, Anthems and arias, Airports, winter moons and summer winds. Gasping at some place just newly touched. Quite often in the night I find I have reached up and out And wondered why there is no weight above my empty hands. Then, open and astonished, I feel that you have come to rest within them. Close my curving hands around you, Remember other moons.
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 10:09 AM UTC
The River After
there is an endless sea of clouds below me and this crazy city quickly is drifting away I’ll miss the raucous jazz, the smell of coffee and Thai on every corner, the hustle of taxis and subway stations, even the absurdity of time ******* square. and Hobo Joe who says “god bless you,” It’s all far away now, as I drink Ginger ale—what else? on this plane. The Appalachians are below me now, Another world up here, Another world down there, Another world everywhere.
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Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 11:43 PM UTC
Another World
If I secretly wanted to explode Would you tell somebody? Pass center-left We're strangers now Happiness? Not really Contentment? Maybe. I can't help but feel we're better off No we... You Me Separate entities Backside volley To the side of the valley Favorite my tweet And I'll flip-flop my meat Meet me at the grocer's Five-dollar Tuesdays Make sure it's ****** Unapparent Appalachians I spelled it wrong initially Thought-o-sphere To drivel near. I got stuff to do. I got stuff to do. I got stuff to do. Just touch me, Somebody.
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Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 1:27 AM UTC
GPOY
What a fool to be afraid of falling Asking for reassurance as though I needed more than response, a hand held, a kiss planted drunken nights and sober days "If love is not passionate, do not participate" What a fool to not have trust in yourself a foot hovering above a pool or Pacing thoughts trying to ride a skateboard Trust yourself, but do not trust him just yet but what a fool To be say it is as though I haven't fallen already 18 flights of stairs, each individual bump From every single height we have watched the world from The cliffsides of the Appalachians The 1800s towers of Bowman the landscapes that connect beach to sea, wondering when we'll reach over there An abandoned building east of the city enamoured in fluorescent light A skytop birdsnest of an arboretum from the back of old Reggie staring onto pavement in warm summer rain I fall from such great heights clamored on each step, I do not know if there is a bottom but I surely hope not
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Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 1:26 AM UTC
Fool (Realism)
I could see Montana in your unopened eye lids Vast valleys in your chlorophyll Your fingertips dipped in rust And then you shook them to Dry I love your sky Colorado Split ends that could spilt Appalachians I would touch you if I had hands Rub our rust like tectonic plates My ridges are cold like Alaska New England Industry booms me out Like bullets But I found you near the Delaware again, Like I did back in the winter ‘76 Or maybe ‘74 I can’t remember I hated the combat but I loved the war Reminds me of yours Your crashing Colorado Runs down your spine The Mississippi would cut through yellow stone If it could But You are dying, I know that now Like everything else, like Vietnam I see your red and your white But where is your blue? I’ve seen the hands of America I’ve lost mine too.
0
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
The Coin and The Flower
I'm changing, This place has changed me
0
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
Appalachians