"selby" poems
Out in the middle of nowhere
Or that's what people will say
What they don't see
Is what stays unknown
The beauty that only those who seek it
It's nothing but high winds farms and livestock
But to those who live here it's more
To look out your window and see the sun
In the summer to look out and watch the birds fly
To walk down the street and say “Hi” to everyone
Drive and see water as blue as the sky
Watching a rodeo when it comes through
That is the beauty outsiders seek
That is the beauty that can be seen
Of course there are no Atlanta, no San Francisco, no New York
Only Mobridge, Selby, Glennon, Java
Peaceful places in which to live
This is the western plains cities
In northern South Dakota
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC
orange soda, fizzy tongue,
creamsicle smiles.
we lived in sync, there,
with an ocean breathing
between us.
*i would have swallowed
the sun if it could have
helped cool you down*
but i wanted to burn
god, how i wanted to burn.
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 2:36 AM UTC
Death without warning embraced my brother.
Now silently, painfully stealing another.
For now it's my dad, not long for this earth
So clear in his eyes how he questions his worth.
Creatures of habit as we humans are,
Death and dying seems to be so afar
Why don't we stop,
hold our loved ones so tight,
Not believing that death
will come creeping one night,
Because we feel so invincible
That time is just a clock on the wall.
Everything put off, due to love, due to hate.
Whatever the reason time does not wait.
I may not be the first to say this
I certainly won't be the last,
"Please make time for your family, don't wait till they pass"
For death without warning will appear in your night
Embracing your loved one into the light.
Laurel Selby
12/8/24
Nov 26, 2024
Nov 26, 2024 at 6:41 AM UTC
The void of emptiness
The black of night
The sound of silence
My soul takes flight
The questions asked
The fights re-lived
The fact I'm broken
My soul takes flight
The love that's lost
The time unshared
The signs of stress
My soul takes flight
The tiresome thoughts
The preempt plans
The truth of loneliness
My soul takes flight
Foretold is a saying that holds the control
They say when in trauma your soul just knows
To stop all the thoughts running round in your head,
To protect oneself mentally so you don't wind up dead.
Your soul chooses for you fight or flight as they say,
So I sit and I wait for the choice of the day.
For so many years the choice was to fight,
Leaving me tired and empty all day and all night.
My soul wears the scars so deep yet so clear,
Fight or flight brings me loneliness,
My one deepest fear.
Laurel Selby
01/01/2025
Jan 1, 2025
Jan 1, 2025 at 6:44 PM UTC
If I were a real poet,
I’d be second-cousin
to Charles Bukowski.
If I were a musician,
I’d be a nephew of Tom Waits.
I think that it’s
a pretty safe bet to say
that the best tracks
on any album are track
#3, #7, and #9.
The best one of those three
is always #7.
Fall is the best time
to listen to jazz
and drink coffee
laced with bourbon.
It’ll get you drunk,
but you’ll be wide awake
at closing time.
My step-daddy
should be Hubert Selby Jr.
I can never sleep past 6am,
even if I go to bed at 2.
Sometimes baby,
the only thing better
than biscuits and gravy,
is you.
***
-JBClawell
© P&ZPublications; 2015
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
Sitting in Cash black,
Pondering Selby concrete--
I sell Brooklyn Bridge.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 11:29 PM UTC