"zach" poems
*Lydia, Lydia,
There are broken angels
beneath your skin.
Your face is stone,
and white as snow,
where the color should have been.
Your husband is by your side,
middle school passion left undead.
Your sister over your right shoulder,
smiling like the day you wed.
You don't hear Zach's talk of cereals,
but a tight smile shows on your face.
The greif streaked grime of tears and salt
rims your neck like wedding lace.
Tomorrow you will rise
and pour milk into your bowl.
Look across the table,
just to feel your crushing soul.
To not see the eyes
that were there for twenty years.
To share no more secrets,
or confide her sisterly fears.
You both spent your life devoted
to three hundred sixty-five words
of repiticious hope.
Only to wake up with the flipping of a page,
to find a car bent in ash and smoke.
This hollow eyed shell I saw in the store
clenched her teeth up tight,
to suffer along like the people of The Book,
and hold Faith to Father of Light.
You made me shed tears for you,
Madison,
because you made me come to see
I would never leave my little sister
By any of my own means.
I felt cheated for you,
so joyous in your Word.
To spread the light of God
to every part of Earth.
But now you are away,
taking flight,
still this young.
I go home with knotted throat,
and my eyes felling as if theyd been stung.
I've been thinking of you both,
Sisters,
by blood and faith.
I'm so sorry for your loss,
the unknowing,
all the rage.
I weep for you, dear Madison.
You lived only in a blink.
But I weep for you still more, Lydia.
And I pray that you won't sink.*
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
Dear Nike,
No better felling then when I get that new shoe smell
Fresher than a spring breeze
Like a wizard making a new spell
I reach out and grab my Nikes
Pull them on my feet
They are
Comfy as a the softest cloud
Smooth as the purest silk
Magnificent as a majestic eagle spreading its wings to fly off into a deep red sunset
They make me feel relaxed as sitting in the shade on a warm summer day
When I wear you
I feel as strong as the Rock lifting a thousand pounds
faster than Usain Bolt shattering a world record and hearing fans cream his name
All the pressure off
It's just my Nikes and I
I'm a blur with my nikes
Fast as a cheetah sprinting after a desperately bounding antelope
Can't even see me
People try to keep up
All they do is trip up
When they glance up from the cold hard ground thick mud covering their face
All they see are my beautiful piercing green Nikes
Running down the court
Legs pumping
Muscles flexing
So much sweat pouring off my face its like a raging river
I taste the sourness of salt in my mouth
Next thing you know
It's all over
The buzzer roars
Everyones jumps on their feet
All eyes locked on the ball flying through the air
Fans screaming like angry banshees so loud it could make you deaf
Swoosh
And it's all over
There's a reason Nike means victory
It's because no one can even compete
Before the battle is started they've already been beat
People who don't wear them
Just haven't realized
that the shoes they wear are inferior
Do their shoes give them the power to jump one thousand feet
Sprint at the speed of light
Make exery shot they take
No
On the torn up field
On the scuffed up court
It doesn't matter
When I wear my Nikes
They make me fly
Around the world
Through white wispy clouds surrounded by beautiful baby blue sky
Across the endless oceans full of green and turquoise churning water and silver jumping fish
Through fields full of long dark green grass
Feeling the wind blow through my face like an angry hurricane
Its like I'm in the flashing streets Hong kong
Nike shoe game is just too strong
Love, Zach
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
thank you
for introducing me
to good music
whenever i listen
to ernest greene
i think of you
and it's not sad,
it's not me missing you
or wishing things
were like they used to be
the thoughts
that are attached
to those songs
are happy
because i'm happy
i met you
even if now
we only speak
from time to time
you'll always be
a happy memory
and those are rare
to come by
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
Stepping on a rusty nail
Showing the baby sitter the back yard
Went straight through my Ninja Turtle Flip-Flops
I looked up at the sky last night
I think I saw a woman
Walking out back to the tree with the vines
Dogs barkin' and mesquitos bite
Don't tell mom if I fall
I looked up at the sky last night
I think I saw a woman
Walking down the street to the church
Meeting up with Zach for a smoke
Got it stashed in a lock box behind
I looked up at the sky last night
I think I saw a women
Life is funny, well peculiar I guess
You think I got it all figured out
Then why am I such a ******* wreck
I looked up at the sky last night
I think I saw a woman
An abandoned mine shaft
On the top of a blown up mountain
Throwing myself into traps
I looked up at the sky last night
I think I saw a woman
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 9:39 PM UTC
You held me in your loving arms as i wept
So sure i had found my way home after my long journey in through frozen land.
Now i'm turning to ash because i stubbornly refused to see that the warmth i thought i needed had left me on fire.
Then you threw me in a coffin,
Nailed it shut with your grin and covered it with the dirt of your promises.
Do you remember way back when?
I still remember the hotel room where I sat.
Fleeing the hand that gripped you.
I gave you words,
they were inadequate. Couldn't admit that I
abandoned you.
My fear grew, ever stronger. My delusion cast about me, a blanket to my conscious mind.
Remember further back when we were all smiles, blind to reality?
I sat with eyes closed for awhile. As if days don't turn to months to years.
Except, I forgot it ends like this.
Blue veins, cracked upon a pale surface.
That's me.
Seeing me.
And you.
For what you are.
For the first time.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 6:19 AM UTC
Upon seeing the new dining room chair;
that is the one reserved for me,
I am seized by a lordly desire
to one day sell it
so that later no one would say
"see, that was his chair"
or "these scratches and stains, are from
a time before,
this emptiness, from a time after."
I want it to be sold or
given away, before it's an alteh zach
or before I'm an a.k.
afraid that someday someone will say
"all he does is sit and stare all day....
Nebech."
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 9:46 PM UTC
people are always going to decide things about you.
what you need to do
is decide things FIRST.
decide that you are not going to put up with their ****
make the executive decision to be a majestic ************
remind them of the existence of zach galifianakis
and that one huge hideous fish thing in the depth of the sea
that eats lil ***** like you not only for breakfast
but for second ******* breakfast
because you're a ******* nerd
and that's how you like it.
decide to work your flaws into a masterpiece
some artists look at mistakes in paintings
do whole studies on them
and then decide they're genius
don't let a flaw get you down
it's what makes you human
it's what makes those other *******
not...
decide to be decisive.
decide that decisions are the same as choices
and choices are what define you...
they cracked you open before you were finished maturing
tried to change the outcome
like the ***** *** hoes that they are
but you...
you can choose,
decide,
force
your way into your own skin again...
finish growing up
then let the ************* have a go.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
When I laugh like a 65-year-old smoker,
when I fill in the lines of her face with my fingertips,
when my thoughts crash,
when I don't return my mother's calls,
when I apologize for stepping on your new shoes,
when I read Wolfe instead of socialize with the priests,
when I stare into open caskets,
when I microwave popcorn for all my friends,
when I throw nickels at Vietnam veterans' feet,
when I drink almond milk,
when I swear celibacy,
when I break oaths,
when I decide to write an epic poem that rips off "Howl",
when I browbeat idiot roommates,
when I buy books I never read,
when I hit on summer girls through text messaging,
when I wake up beside myself,
when I sleep on the tile by the toilet,
when I **** off the neighbors
when I hear someone say New Journalism died,
when I say they lied,
when I break my fourth finger against a wall,
when I listen to The Silver Jews during a heinous fog,
when I get to the table on time,
when I talk to Shorty about Waits,
to Zach about Springsteen and Ryan Adams,
when I'm surprised my friends actually listen to me,
when I straddle roadkill,
when I rock the proverbial boat,
when I lie with good intentions,
when I hook,
when I line,
when I sinker,
when I shift,
when I falter,
when I fix,
when I fake,
when I take the bait---
it's involuntary.
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 11:24 AM UTC
Took a trip on the Belafonte,
Bound with Cuba to forgotten Sanz.
Dinning on tin canned Del Monte,
A glass of Suntory always in hands.
Lloyd Faversham gifted salacious devices by John Cleese.
Used as props in Mike’s next gin stained showpiece.
The drum-line seemed irksome to J. Jonah.
He’d heard Zach Hill before.
Given limited time, despite the persona.
Interstellar fault found in a **** metaphor.
A swift change to an even more marketable sound.
Sparks didn’t fly when trying to appear profound.
Tiny teen dreams tending to tiny skirts.
Fidgeting with the hem-line.
Their just unintelligible flirts.
Stripping to avoid the breadline.
Dystopian fiction led to dissolution of fact
Can’t seem to see their world isn’t intact.
Atwood to Collins, Collins to a stupid ******* maze.
Alternate choice being a criminal thrill.
Simplistic fantasy whose only benefit is praise.
Popular opinion seems to be well over the hill.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
It is not pretty anymore
I have no pasture
no sweet annie
or cider apples
I miss the nights on Myrtle Ave
always wine/music/friends
and Arlo’s playing guitar
and Brendan’s picking his mandolin
Zach’s holding my hand, we were crying in my bed earlier
but you
had wool and gold draped all over
drinking Italian prosecco
eating berries off your fingers
curled your hands over like a rabbit
tiptoed toward me
"drunk hands and sneaky feet”
Hey, that's just a memory now
Tonight there are no more
gimlets/dumpster food/hand carved spoons
it is cold toes/empty bed/hollow stare
I would trade this safety
for that love, wholeheartedly
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 1:59 AM UTC
As the spirit wanes
the form appears.
Well bukowski said it, i never met him.
So i wont capitalize his name.
I romanticized his stories when i was young.
Whatever young means.
Whatever romance means.
I am not writing a poem
I was taught not to use
I or We or You
In a poem.
This is Zach, this is unbiased
10/10 bass line.
This is you clicking back
because you didnt know Hank either
or you didnt believe me.
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 9:54 AM UTC
"Secrets" by One Republic
I need another story
Something to get off my chest
My life gets kinda boring
Need something that I can confess
'Til all my sleeves are stained red
From all the truth that I've said
Come by it honestly I swear
Thought you saw me wink, no
I've been on the brink, so
Tell me what you want to hear
Something that'll light those ears
I'm sick of all the insincere
I'm gonna give all my secrets away
This time
Don't need another perfect lie
Don't care if critics ever jump in line
I'm gonna give all my secrets away
My God
Amazing how we got this far
It's like we're chasing all those stars
Who's driving shiny big black cars
And everyday I see the news, all the problems that we could solve
And when a situation rises, just write it into an album
Send it straight to gold
but I don't really like my flow, no so
Tell me what you want to hear
Something that'll light those ears
I'm sick of all the insincere
I'm gonna give all my secrets away
This time
Don't need another perfect lie
Don't care if critics ever jump in line
I'm gonna give all my secrets away
Oh, got no reason, got no shame
Got no family I can blame
Just don't let me disappear
I'm gonna tell you everything
So tell me what you want to hear
Something that'll light those ears
I'm sick of all the insincere
I'm gonna give all my secrets away
This time
Don't need another perfect lie
Don't care if critics ever jump in line
I'm gonna give all my secrets away
So tell me what you want to hear
Something that will light those ears
I'm sick of all the insincere
So I'm gonna give all my secrets away
This time
Don't need another perfect lie
Don't care if critics ever jump in line
I'm gonna give all my secrets away
All my secrets away
All my secrets away
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
We should have gone outside instead of watching one
of the sillier, senseless, meaningless movies it is possible
to rent or buy. Winter or not the fields and woods
are at least real, commensal and understandable if
you know the genus and species. Know the genome
and biome. Learn the physics and music.
But this much reality requires an escape, hence
bad movie. A bad book is better than a bad movie.
A good movie trumps a bad book, but a good book is best
and a great poem trumps all. Will my son Zach be one
who applies the scientific method? Can Aaron explain
God's intentions to the people? Their mother and I will wait.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 4:59 PM UTC
timid, not anymore
bold, always
peaceful, there’s also chaos
quiet, some days
i, zach, we’d both be in love with art and life if we knew truth
i think we do
small steps will get you there
but the master knows that large leaps have their purpose, too
time is an illusion
small thoughts can enlighten you
but the master knows that large minds have their purpose, too
thought is an illusion
the match of the century : absence versus thin air
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 5:52 PM UTC
At dinner, Zach asks
about our nation's history, wars.
I say We're taking on everyone, one at a time.
First Britain, then Britain again: "He was the surly English pluck, and
there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be."
Next Mexico: "Death is indifferent to what hide he tans; life crushes
men like flies."
The War Between the States: "Well done, Mr. Cromartie. Time now
for rest."
Most of Latin America: "Not only humans longed for liberation. All
ecology groaned for it too. The revolution is also one of lakes,
rivers, trees, animals."
Then Southeast Asia: "The slight bump the mortars make as they kiss
the tube goodbye. Then the furious rain, a fist driving home the
message: Boy, you don't belong here."
Now the Middle East: "A land to be admired like all lands. Harsh
mountains and deserts, indigenous plants and people, adapted
ungulates, carnivorous mammals."
Can't forget the Krauts & Nips: "Then I heard the bomber call me in:
Little Friend, Little Friend, I got two engines on fire. Can you see
me, Little Friend?"
Nor the Commies: "You mixed up farewell to an epoch with the
beginning of a new one. I put this book here for you, who once
lived, so that you should visit us no more."
The original indigenous people say: "In time we'll become prosperous,
or else we'll become martyrs. The force that placed us here cannot
be trusted."
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
Simple words wrapped around stagnant constitutions
written for half *** revolution.
There will be no more Zach and Sineigh.
No more Signature graveyards.
No more Percocet 30.
A real lose, lose.
Shame in what I miss most.
Square one.
Basic education
on top
middle class foundation.
Teased by a girl
eating off China.
Rules enforced
by the best case scenario.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
It's a sing-a-long,
to some sacred, long-forgotten song.
It's a late night discussion over dark beers
about all the love that eluded,
and all the albums that we wasted.
It's a counter-culture night,
playing Dylan's Highway 61
on vinyl amidst ribbons of incense,
and blankets our grandmas made for us.
It's blacking out from Zach's concoction of
*** coke, and lime, only to wake
to Rachel's black hair and amber eyes.
It's finding joy in philosophical discussions,
in coming up with novel terms for being drunk
off our *****
in trying to make God make sense,
in watching the sunrise at some breakfast diner.
It's holding a newborn nephew,
telling your sister you love her.
It's realizing the sweetness of time,
reminding yourself to stay alive,
sipping on co-bought wine,
developing love without clear rhyme.
It's a gift without a why.
It's a dream without an alarm clock.
It's a kindness to which you must ascribe.
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
Some people can make me happy but some people make me mad and so I'm in the middle and people don't understand when I say I'm mad to leave me alone for a little because I will snap on you and probably blackout but that's not good but there are people who make me happy like, Jadien, sometimes Zach, LORIE, Alexis, Alyssa
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
I once shared a room for a week with Jesus
He smoked Marlboros and enjoyed beef jerky
People called him Zach
But he was Jesus to me
He heard voices and paced the rug all day
He was hard on the rug
He was hard on me
When we smoked he would pace
back and forth in the snow making a path,
telling me that he was jesus
and that I had an evil laugh
He once told a girl to stop farting in his pacing space
I thought that was the funniest thing I ever heard
There were times that Jesus made me nervous
He would get an evil look on his face
and then he would smile
and tell me the world was going to end
He talked alot about the world ending
and what needed to be saved
I was on top of that list
I told him I didn't need to be saved
and that I didn't believe in God
It hurt him to know I didn't believe in his father
He was an interesting character
He had a drug problem and was schizophrenic
I have a drug and alcohol problem and I'm crazy
Together, we could save the world
He was a conservative and I, a liberal
Our politics clashed
but we didn't clash
Jesus and i got along just fine
I would tell him he was a fool
for blaming the worlds ills on liberals
He would smile and tell me I was the devil
Together we would laugh
We disagreed on most everything
We disagreed with smiles
One day I left in an ambulance
Jesus paced in his usual spot in the day room
I could see him smiling
As if to say "I told you so"
As if to say "Everything will be okay"
After a few days I was released from the hospital
I often spent time wandering the streets
One day I met a man out for a stroll with a cigarette
It was Jesus
He looked so glad to see me
He said hello and called me Mike
I said Hi and called him Zach
We must have been using code names
His secret was not yet known
As I passed him we both turned around and smiled
We both knew things had changed
We knew we had to go our separate ways
We did, but halfway down the block I turned
to catch one more look at the son of God
I still think of Jesus on a regular basis
I should have had more time for him
But I have a feeling he's doing just fine
And I smile when I think about Jesus,
somewhere out there saving the world
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 10:52 AM UTC
He was just an arrangement of 1s and 0s
which manifested itself into a body
on the other side of the planet
There were a three times
that he was right beside me
despite him not being there at all
First, he sat on the side of my bed
struck by a drunken haze
when he told me he loved me
Second, he came out of my closet
to keep me from crying
when I thought I lost him
And third, appeared right beside me
when I was walking back home
while the sun was wiping my tears.
I touched him on his shoulder
then he whispered
"I don't know who you are
We have never known each other."
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
You used to tug the skin on your neck
While you cleared your throat.
Dad said it was a nervous habit.
What were you nervous about?
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 6:57 PM UTC
When the first boy who leaves
goose bumps trailing your skin
plays your favorite Death Cab for Cutie
song on guitar--stop him.
With the notes wedged under
his fingernails, stuck
like they are in your head,
you'll never be able to listen again
without cringing.
It's 3AM when you're clawing
bones to hold yourself
together, you wonder:
"Is the memory of me a light
peppering his ceiling,
keeping him awake?"
"Love" should have stayed
a word, not a fight. Loneliness is a date
spent sniveling into the sleeve of a
different boy because Chili's played
your favorite Death Cab for Cutie song.
But if he comes back, asking
for a poem--don't write one.
It won't be any more appreciated
than you were two years ago.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 12:27 PM UTC
You always know what to say.
I was so lost, in the streets of the abandoned.
And then one day, you came my way,
You sat down beside me, took my hand and
said, "What I would give for another day."
I was left with a choice,
My heart no longer hell bound,
Feeing stuck.
I remember the day my heart drowned.
"It's okay," softly spoke Zach.
"I love you to the moon and back."
When I had said that, his eyes brightened.
He leaned in and kissed me, my throat tightened.
"You are unlike any other girl I've ever met. It's true."
I looked at him, why?
"Why? Just because you are you."
I felt like I could fly.
Tears slid in my eyes,
If I spoke, I would cry.
I felt so at peace.
This love we shared,
should never cease.
"I support you through every rough decision you have to make."
A smile grew on his face.
"And my heart is yours, in which only you can take."
Which ended with a hug, well embraced.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC