"carseat" poems
awakened by the
offsprings cry,
baby powdered
morning dew
showers the room,
coffee stained smiles
shine about
cheerio blanketed
kitchens,
so worrisome
for office tardiness,
the carseat won't lock
into place,
tire marks on
fresh paved driveways,
to daycare tears dry not
she's on time,
fatigued she plants
her seed to the office seat
to grow even less
awaiting to see the smile
of her child and say
her prayers before
falling asleep
-
awaked by the
offsprings cry,
gun powered
morning dew
showeres the village,
rotted teeth smile
amongst the
body-blanketed township,
so worrisome of finding
a slain mother
sister
brother
just like father,
the gun won't lock
into place,
they never will,
tattered couches
paved with the
***** of
slaughtered buildings,
mother's dead
tears dry not,
fatigued,
hands of
grungy drainpipes
plant beside,
holding stagnant
a somber sibling,
tremors ripple
crimson tides,
planted to
grow even less
awaiting to see
the smile of
his mother
his father
his sister
and say his prayers
with brother
before laying down
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
i've had a high pain tolerance ever since i was a little girl
my mom likes to tell this story:
i was about 3 years old
sitting in my carseat
sticking my fingers out the window
to feel the fresh air
my dad
oblivious as ever
closes the rear window on my tiny baby fingers
i didn't cry a single tear
not when it happened
not when i was raced to the emergency room
not when the doctor removed my fingernail
i've had a high pain tolerance ever since i was a little girl
correction
i've had a high
physical
pain tolerance ever since i was a little girl
emotionally?
i can drizzle
i can pour
i can calm
i can storm
i can rattle
i can shatter
i can tie
i can split
i can echo
i can scream
i can claim
i can plea
i can want
i can need
i can't explain
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 5:29 PM UTC
He throws the booster seat on the carseat
and I squeeze in among all the crap.
I close the door and he floors it.
squealing through the grocery store parking lot
blaring tech n9ne.
he almost speeds into the blackberry bushes
but jerks the wheel to the right at the last second
and makes it feel like we're gonna flip end over end at every speed bump.
he take another quick turn, a left, at the end of the lot.
we turn left again at the four way, without stopping.
he speeds up more when goin up 7th
and the car starts smoking around the trailer park.
we reach my house and he burns out in the short stub of driveway.
I get out smiling,thank him, and fall into the ditch.
The can of monster falls out of my inner pocket, so I put it back,
dig myself out, close the door, which I hadn't successfully done
and walk toward the door.
they back out, almost hitting the apartment fence
and speed off toward his house.
this is a rare moment in my life,
my dad being who he is,
stupid thrills like this are few and far between
so I treasure each and every one of em
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
When God created Dads
He made mine quite queer
He made mine with a big belly
Maybe from drinking too much non alcoholic beer
He made my dad love bananas
More than words can say
He’ll go out at midnight buying bananas
There’s no stopping him, come what may
He made him a little stubborn
He eats whatever makes him drool
Mutton beef or pork
He loves to break the rules
His eyebrows are way too long
bushy and way too thick
sometimes i think he needs to cut them
Even mowing them would do the trick
Daddy loves to get up
at the crack of dawn
Disturb everybody too
Early in the morn
To run off to one of his adventures
He’ll drag me out of bed
“lets go see the mountains today!” he says
Even though my eyes are still red
He won’t take no for an answer
and tries to bribe me with a treat
“But we can go have your favourite breakfast” he says
and then I’m rushing to buckle myself in the carseat
Being around daddy
is always so much fun
we keep roaming and roaming around
until the day is done
Daddy wears only one colour
It’s his usual shade of brown
Nothing else picks his fancy
He ends up looking like a clown
His pants are always too short
and always show his socks
He wears them with his iron shoes
which thud around when he walks
When daddy is at a buffet
or at an office event with free food
He steals me cakes in his pockets
To brighten up my mood
God made my daddy
ever so generous and so sweet
My daddy is my hero
the nicest person I could ever meet
God made daddy perfect
so we girls would know
What to look for in a man
and how his goodness would show
God sent daddies
to come into the world
For where God couldn’t physically walk among us
Daddy would be protecting God’s little girls
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 5:58 AM UTC
I havent spoken of you
Since the day you died
My baby sister
Ripped way
I couldnt save you
I should have saved you
You counted on me
I was your big brother.
The Crash
The car flipping
Once
Twice
Three times
Four
Mom and dad
dead before
we hit the cliff's
floor
I was only Six
you a mere three
You cried out for me
sitting in your carseat
BUT I COULDNT GET TO YOU
my little arms could not ******* reach
I failed you
I failed you
I'm so sorry Olivia
I will never forgive myself
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 9:45 AM UTC
No I never said her name aloud, or around you
Fainted collections by the bedside
Never known from the emotions felt
Prayers
Things families kept
My west side bedroom
And you didn't understand
Just how much it hurt you
The night time shell
You remained
Faded in my image
Turned away
Burnt out in shadows
Clothes in the closet
I wept the whole way home
Designed by the day
By the pain we realized
Prior to twisted agony
Never feeling how the road sways
I'll still be losing blood
Deep ocean drowning
Kick
Losing breaths
Looking from the lights of the aftermath
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
Inhaling the smoke,
my ****** *** imagined
it being tattooed under
my skin.
I thought if I cut my wrist
clouds of THC would flow
out instead.
I leaned against her, cold,
thinking I'd fall into the
street and have it engulf
me. I swam in the gravel
until she moved and I
snapped back into my body.
Accelerating too fast, I fall
into myself in the carseat
and flying forward with
the break and I was out
of my head again.
And I'm thinking about you
now as the music flies by so
fast it slides over
my ears.
How the last time you grabbed
me like you needed me
was when you ****** me on
a picnic table, ****** in a park
around midnight.
And I remember why I didn't
need *** when I was with you.
You alone gave me short term
memory, made everything feel
smooth. I didn't need a
drug to make the sunrise
beautiful. Not when I could wake
up and turn around in bed
and have your arms to fall into.
Sounds moving to me like
clouds fogging my eyesight.
Pulling me like you did.
Deep vibrations crawling into
my spinal cord.
Shrieking pricking my finger
tips to see me bleed.
Poisoning my body to say
I've lived.
I still feel my skin
crawling from those
extended release beads.
Throat burning from
the pack I smoked just
last night.
The burns on my arm from
when I was too wiped out
to notice my melting flesh.
My skin still remains
liquid. Smoke leaking
through and I have
become a crater.
I have become paper.
Maybe I am on fire
and that's why my head
is still full of smoke
Why I can feel everything.
Why I can see every particle of
dust just as lost as me.
Maybe I am just
air, and that's why
I'm afraid of you touching me.
Your hand will go through my
stomach, touch my spine.
But you will find I have
no backbone.
Just these titanium bars
That tried to straighten
me, make me stand taller.
Tried to fix me.
I learned to grow like a vine.
Like poison ivy I am
smoke creeping through your veins
being tattooed into your DNA.
I learned to grow like a ****
Wild flowers are weeds aren't they?
Maybe that's why they call me one.
Explains why everything around
me is now dead.
Wildfires are disastrous
but I've heard I shine like one.
Maybe I am harvesting
Everyone's life to make mine
better and longer.
They see beauty in my thinning
addicted body.
Maybe that's why when I was
high, I prayed to God as
the sun lit the road on fire.
I said I didn't think I'd ever seen
anything die so
gracefully.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 2:59 AM UTC
As a small child, the straps
that held me in my carseat
were the worst torture
imaginable. I remember straining
against them with all the might
in my tiny body, knowing
it was hopeless. Your silences
have become the car-seat-straps
of my life now. From the outside
they waited, beckoning in sheer
inevitability, and from the inside
I can see no way out
without ripping you in two.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
The drive was a little over four hours. Halfway there I could tell she was getting tired.
"Are you ready to go see your daddy Jay?" "Yes!" She replied, wearing a big smile. Next thing I know she's passed out.
The rest of the drive wore thin and I was nervous. We made it into town right around the time I said we would.
Looking for his house i was confused a little by the numbers on the houses but I found it soon enough. Pulling into the driveway my stomach turned over. I put the car in park and just sat there for a little while. Unsure if anyone was home I put it in reverse to leave and come back later. As I started to drive forward there he was standing at the door. I parked in front of the house then and said, "look jay, there's your daddy." She exclaimed, "Daddy!"
He came and picked her up out of her carseat, carrying her back up to the house. Unfortunately for me, I was parked in a no parking zone and needed to move my car so I missed the look his face had made. I wonder if he smiled or if he cringed. I'll never know.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:48 PM UTC
pictures
before and after
of nothing.
morality ****
brushstroke, breast, blackmail.
a dressing down
of ******
beings.
when set, the alarm
disappears.
dear kid, not twice
did I lose
myself
during.
dear ****** it was hardest
to keep
with me
the word
degenerative.
she once sent a car
for her son’s
carseat. the car
was so
mad.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
They say that after the Big Bang
It was a myriad of collisions that began to form our universe.
Masses of gasses hurling into each other,
not to explode and dissipate
but to violently combine and form
the entirety of existence.
On one of the floating specks
Formed from those chemical crashes
I exist
Constantly searching
for something
anything
with which to collide.
Dark, warm bed
After bed
After bed,
Ingenuine, primal ******
after ******
after ******
and I return to my cluttered mind
More unsatisfied and lost than before each orchestrated clash.
My biggest fear has always been car crashes.
Stories of dead families strewn across a ****** highway have haunted my nightmares since I could strap in my own carseat.
But they also say fear is love
and now at twenty,
I embody
Shards of broken glass
more than a walking soul shell
that mistaken minds call a body.
And as I lay touched and swollen,
with the taste of too many someones' in my mouth,
I think I might crash a car into a star and see if maybe then
instead of aching as a million pieces I become violently whole.
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 5:01 AM UTC
“What is the devil doing over there?”
the little girl asked.
”That’s not the devil, darling.” And the father strapped her in her carseat.
“But he’s smoking, while drinking water from a small cup. He’s wearing sunglasses; his shirt is unbuttoned—he must be burning up.”
I checked the mail and gave the neighbor a wave as they drove off.
“His beard is so long it touched his nipple—and sooo red. Long hair and unshaven—his shirt is unbuttoned—you can see his ‘V’ and treasure trail. Wonder what he has in his glass.”
Said the wife.
I checked the car for loose change and gave her a brief wave and wry grin as she closed the garage door.
“Do you ever see him leave the house? Nothing but a druggie—a drunk—should get that police officer down the road to check him out.””
Said the father.
I checked on the baby—threw away the diaper, made a bottle, and tucked her away.
“How is the devil doing?” asked the little girl.
”That’s not the devil, darling,” said the mother.
I had a cigarette and a long pull out of the bottle before entering the church.
“He has such beautiful curls; clean-cut, smells okay—why are his eyes barely slit? Talks well; not a lot, but great voice—why though?
They asked.
I went outside to do the same as they filled their coffers.
All pure white clothing, perfect hair, and a mint in my mouth.
“Mommy, is that Jesus?” the little boy asked.
“No, that’s not Jesus,” she responded.
But…
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
imagine.
you are a 14 year old boy
and one day
a strange, 45 year old woman
that you have never met
comes running at you
full speed while you
are walking home from school.
she knocks you to the ground
and kicks you in the stomach.
drags you to her car.
she pulls a screaming baby
out of a carseat and
forces it into your arms.
tells you it's yours now.
it's registered in your name.
while you stand there in
shock and disbelief
blood dripping down your face
she warns you that if you
ever tell anyone about
what just happened she
will ****** your entire family.
she gets in her car
speeds off and
you never see her again.
you go home with a
hysterical baby and
tell your parents what happened.
they just shake their heads at you.
you must have done something
to make this happen.
and so sorry,
but you have to keep that baby.
there is no other option.
you are only 14.
still, you are responsible for
making sure that baby doesn't die.
you have to figure out with your 6th grade
education how to
feed your new baby.
and get it healthcare.
and an education.
no more football games for you, son.
you don't matter anymore.
you shouldn't have been walking home
by yourself with a red shirt on.
you plead for help.
your parents don't care.
your friends can't help you.
you can't go to school anymore.
you can't pay for childcare.
and your government wants
to punish YOU.
can you imagine?
because i can.
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 1:02 AM UTC
a man goes unmolested into the knowledge of his body. has one hand had no choice. puts a doll in a carseat. makes his boy watch. a man recoils mid-dream
from a caterpillar. I am
what I’m
again.
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 9:58 AM UTC
i want to nurture the little girl inside of me
the one that held my mothers hand when she crossed the road
and asked for my aunt to play katy perry from the back carseat
i come from a family of women
who fed me girlhood on a silver spoon
sometimes it was hard to swallow
sometimes it was bitter to the taste
but i clenched my fist and allowed myself to bathe in the flavor
i watched my grandmother smile, and i could still see the little girl inside of her peering out through her kind eyes
girlhood has not destroyed her,
girlhood has made her strong.
i hope i age just as beautifully as her,
and that the skin lines around my mouth tell stories to my children about all of my laughter throughout the years,
that they can see how many times that my palms have been held,
that they can see the endurance of womanhood through my body just as kindly as they see the endurance of girlhood
i hope they can see that the little girl inside of me still looks out into the world with innocence and purity, rather than with anger and resentment
i watch her, and i welcome age with a sweaty palm, for hope that when my years have passed, i will glance into my vanity
and see a resemblance of her
and a resemblance of all of the strong women that i come from
for womanhood and girlhood are one in the same, and i open my palm to reach for the silver spoon.
Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 9:37 PM UTC