"knoxville" poems
The cop asked me for my license to which
I replied what the hell is that.
Officer Tillman I belive i met your wife in a restroom
down at the laundrymat.
She didnt do ya justice.
Cause you arent all that ugly
but you are kinda fat.
No my last name isnt Knoxville but I
sure had some fun in Tennessee.
Met darlin that left a burnin feelin behind just for me.
My life is like a tweenty four hour cartoon.
A wreckless wonder.
If ya wanna ride along theres always room.
Gotta babydoll I often reffer to as Tinker.
She's my favorite semi insane funsize drinker.
Got a amigo or two.
Some fake ID's cause some people just happen to be looking
for me.
I thought you already knew.
Some people like to hate.
Clive. Forrest. Ian.
Dont be jelouse your still living togather in the same basement
no hope ever having none inflatable
date.
Iv'e taken some pretty hard licks.
Put my mind in a blender .
Now all im left with is becon bits.
Im the Jackass of poetry alone I hold the crown.
Some might call me a village idoit.
But I would say im most fun fella in town.
And if ya read this work and still cant see.
You can go to hell.
And thats one thing apon me my imaginary friends
and my little badass tinker agree.
Oct 18, 2009
Oct 18, 2009 at 11:55 AM UTC
Deep in the backwoods of the Knoxville antique,
The black marble sky growls,
A panther,
To outsiders—those inside city limits—
The vanishing streetlights and,
Absence of neighbors,
May put them on extra alert but,
Here,
The panther’s like a friend
Watching over us
All day long me and my cousins,
Waited,
For the whispers of night to cover us,
In the last few hours before Independence Day drifted
Off for another year,
We broke out the rockets:
Nine-packs,
Missiles,
Roman Candles,
Sparklers,
Big and small,
The show was about to begin
Darting away,
From explosives right before launch,
Cracking up till
Our lungs hurt,
Bouncing on,
The backyard trampoline—
(I think I got punched in the eye that night
by accident)—
Playing with the border collie named Shadow,
We were frozen in a dream,
No person could break up this night,
Running without legs from parents’ rules,
And from mysterious police,
Hoping that Shadow wouldn’t go
Nuts,
Hurt someone
We were all—parents and cousins—
Drinking
In the elixir of freedom,
Caught in the secret
Between
The night and the countryside
Sep 17, 2021
Sep 17, 2021 at 12:16 PM UTC
The children would be packed and ready days in advance.
At first, we packed for them, but as the years passed,
They were experts at rolling clothes for twice the space,
Using laundry baskets rather than luggage tripled our carriage.
We'd leave early Saturday morning, almost night,
Departing from the Ontario weather like a bad odour.
Kathleen was away at school.
Mags and Andrea were in their teens now.
Ten years of March madness was terminating.
Herself would sit shotgun with Triptik and thermos.
The kids would awaken south of the Ohio,
Hungry, grumpy, and eager.
She had it all planned out.
Crosswords, colouring, wordfinds, books, Gameboys, lace,
Sandwiches, juice boxes, treats of all sorts,
For another twenty hours on the road.
I invariably imagined our Mini in the return lane
As we crossed the Bluewater Bridge into Michigan;
Trip over, kids exhausted, us, quiet, subdued,
Just wanting our own bed.
But twenty hours on the I-75 lay ahead,
Turn left at Knoxville
For Myrtle Beach, sun, tennis, seafood,
Separation.
I found no peace in our final escape.
Conversation with her had halted.
A round-trip of dialogue in my head.
She'd said, I bought a house.
Words wrapped like an egg-salad sandwich.
It was our March break.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
my first-ever valentine
walks on pebbles soaked in limes
****** out rinds and empty shot glasses
street lights sparkle as our taxi passes knoxville’s twisting highways of black
your voice, wailing, raking, sent shivers down my back
a million voices are singing your songs,
but one less than a million are singing them wrong
a million aching empty eyes glaring,
five hundred thousand pairs are staring off into space, all stuck in the past
I’m sitting here wondering how the **** my glass got empty again,
so toss me a lime, and pass me the bottle before I notice the time
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
Chill baby, it's the all acoustic set. Going home for the holidays.
A few laughs with Pops,
And never mind the drumsticks, her comes the *******
Here comes weeping
In a Shiite village,
400 dead in Sadr City,
And pass me the yams.
Did you see that interception?
Here comes the 3rd and long.
Here the sun falls away
In the twilight of winter.
I dream the Electro Light Fantastic. I'll see ghosts in
The mirror when I'm dreaming. None the wiser,
I saw it in fits and starts.
Better than waking on
New Year's morning in jail with the crazy lady 2 cells over yelling for a cigarette
Every twenty minutes
" Officer, can I have a cigarette?" I want to tell her
To shut up, Instead I ask
Her to get me one too.
And then I knew it's all come round.
Young and Stupid reporting for duty.
Not that it's my rag mag
Sad rag, nothing doing while
I try these new wings on for size. Its just the all acoustic set in a world of static.
Hazy cigarette voices
In trebelo. Though I threw
It out with the cookbook,
I have it all hanging on my sleeve. I thought it was all the rage. Later I found it was
Taxing on my soul.
This all acoustic set, away from the city lights and cyberspace. Left to one's devices, one sinks further into the page. What do you
Expect when candlelight
Falls across the flickering wall?
Two league below, a U Boat
Swims the Atlantic, Lost
In possibilities. Some mind
When I'm tongue tied like a lizard.
Kinda brings up Helsinki,
And she comes in all bells
And whistles. Me, I'm
All acoustic, something like a blank face, Low on cash
And overdrawn on character.
And the sun lights before
Columbus dragging up the rear. Man these ghosts
Linger in the hallway,
But it's better than crashing
The car into the statue
One Thanksgiving Eve.
The all acoustic set says
Death is a bore, Especially
After the ride in From France
I gave up meat some time ago, I gave up on you after
I got to the moon.
Well, it gets me out of the sun awhile. We'll get better when
The world catches up.
Sorry I changed the end around, but I thought it
Was the only out of Knoxville
Never mind The sage gravy,
I've got to tighten the lug nuts. A tither, but nothing on the rent.
And Hitchcock does the math,
While I corkscrew around the truth. While others weep
I dream of women laying in the sun. I guess it's better than ice cream in the rai n.
Who said pumpkin pie?
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 10:14 PM UTC
Couldn't find her in the States
US or those I was in
From Maine up to Mania
From Hypo down to Sin
I scoured the Vol State
She wasn't even there
Remember the one I spoke of
I was choking on her hair
So I tramped out to Texas
Sandbags were all I found
Drove up to Collyrado
Crusted Butte, Drunk Unsound
The wrong color Orange caught me
Where the Gators turn blue
Didn't make No ****** sense
So I left abused without truth
Up to recovery
From the Damage that I've done
I lost my fears in Knoxville
Even though I still have some
Couldn't find her in the Ivy League
Nor at Oxford, UK
Caught my Baby down in Nashville
She has the Stones to Swing away
Pyreneaic granite told me
That French was the Langue
Even though I speak Spanish and Italian
I think I've found the true Romantic tongue
**** what a woman
What a spirit indeed
I'm gonna shed my last coat
Forever cause she's my Queen
I found my higher power
Linguistics it used to be
I might drop off this continent
Because Saving's what I need
Chirping like a som'bitch
Is that Aviary Queen
of my globe/world/universe
My Archaeoloverix, Baby
Kisses Hugs Baby Bird
i can hear her coo at me
I'm gonna quit my scribbling
And call her heart to me
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
i and i wept
by the waters of Knoxville
remembering Zion
repatriation, what a notion
slowly, we came to our senses
the brave new world
closing in around us
we sought our refuge
at the doors of perception
timothy leary and
Marcus Garvey
were on a bad trip
together one day
when it began to snow outside
like grace
from heaven, falling
i was there with them
the angel of death
my thanatalivity
is all i know now
i will make it
to the end
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 4:14 PM UTC
Little Audrey is lunatic , clutching an album , a photo of her Mother , in Knoxville , excited and free she said ! .Audrey is falling again , without friend or flying high enough , encircled by vultures that portend her future , a downward spiral , catatonia that paralyzed her little wings ! Poor Audrey is gone now , closed doors , back on the spoon , peanut butter in her veins , borealis visions made her cry , to be the apple in Mom or anyones eye !!
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
When the soft Knoxville summer
Slips it’s way over the Smokies
Ghosts through Gatlinburg
And passes Pigeon Forge
We opened all the windows
And made love in the mist.
I jumped into a gorge
Naked and full of expectation
Washing the sweat that
Only conquering mountains
Can conjure.
I erupted from the water
New and fresh and clean.
While sullen hazel eyes
Watched water drops
Trace down my *******
A siren drying in the sun
On the rocks.
The trees were dying
White and blanched
In Everest emerald green
While the mountains cast shadows.
My love for you much the same
As the quick moving summer.
A lifetime turns into a blink.
Your body pulsates on a rock
Next to the wild Obed
And you are just as untamed.
You had a past you never mentioned
But always remembered
And a father who forgot you.
I collect stones from the riverside
And dream of you being happy.
I lay in a bed of purple honeysuckles
On a mountain bald
And share a bottle of bourbon
With a man hiking
the Appalachian trail.
He tells me he is
Almost famous
And I laugh at the word “almost.”
He plays the trumpet
And moves souls
With every utterance of his lungs.
He continues on the trail
And I never see him again.
We get late night ice cream
And my cotton shirt sticks to me
In overwhelming humidity
And suffocating heat
But I am laughing
And hanging out the car window
Through winding roads
and wild thorns
And summer has ended
And so have we.
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 3:02 AM UTC
Your leg was infected and the infection spread.
You had an abdominal aneurysm and you're dead.
The infection spread to your stomach and you hid your illness from all of us.
You didn't want to go to a hospital because doctors were people who you didn't trust.
If we'd known how sick you were, you would've seen a doctor immediately because we would've made you go.
When we found out how sick you were, you were too ill to put up a fight, you were too ill to be able to say no.
You were taken to Fort Sanders Hospital in Knoxville but sadly, it was too late.
You suffered tremendously before you died, you experienced a sad and tragic fate.
I woke up in the hospital and found you lying motionless in your bed.
When you had a deadly aneurysm, you would have no future ahead.
When I learned that you hid your illness from us, it made me feel pretty bad.
I love you Mom, you were the best mother that a person could've had.
Mar 6, 2020
Mar 6, 2020 at 2:26 PM UTC
i tell the hummingbirds in my belly
to keep track of all the places
they've started fluttering
a doorway in virginia
where you stopped and gave me that grin
and i heard your voice calling me "honeybun"
for weeks
a couch in memphis
pulled out and covered like a ghost
i felt transparent as you slept
and rolled over to me
but you curled around me like a flower petal
and that's a smoothness
i can still feel
a backseat in south carolina
an alternating current of whispers
about things we can't change now
and jokes about things we
wouldn't want to
a living room in knoxville
your assortment of alcohol was
displayed on your cheeks
rosy and pink and i wrote a poem
about it already, about how
i wanted a hand on my knee
but i was fine with little giggles
on the walk home
on a plane in california
you were thousands of miles away
but i needed you to tell me
that i'd make it home safely
and you did
a late night diner on melrose place
french fries and opinions
i told you something important
and i don't think you've forgotten it
four a.m. in the back of the library
talking about biology
and our favorite things in life
we'd laugh until nothing was funny
and then we'd just be honest
in a booth in the middle of a mcdonald's.
i had forgotten this one.
i had been wondering recently
when our friendship actually started.
what were we,
before honeybun?
before sharing a bed?
before car rides home?
before too much wine?
before i needed your steadiness?
before too much backstory?
before hours of biology i never even learned?
before that first time,
when our group of friends
said, "let's meet at mcdonald's"
and it turned into just me and you?
when did the hummingbirds start fluttering?
when will i learn
that they're not going to stop?
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 11:45 PM UTC