Posts for June 15, 2021 (page 2)

I did not go to Nashville looking for you.
Why I went there is not important.
Where I went is not important.
When I got there has nothing to do
with my poem.

On my way back from Nashville,
you were in my head.
I could not shake you out
like apples from the trees
outside my grandparents’ house.

It was so long ago
that I helped my grandfather
rob the bees.
How thick and sweet that honey was
and the bees did not sting.

Distracted driving kills,
but I was not distracted.
On the way back from Nashville,
I was looking for you in my head.
I heard your voice.

It was as plain as it was
the last time you said goodbye.

Tinted from both the fading
Sunlight & it’s natural color,
A field of grass (slightly
Sloping upwards) is colored yellow

Cows slowly graze, & I think
About how marvelous it would be
To prance across that field
With the most lovely of people

Hearing steps on the hard wooden
Floor
The stairwell
Was loud
The stove pipe went through the upstairs
And in the winter
Don’t you dare accidentally lean on it
Stories Of red devils and bourbon were told
And at night you could smell the musk
Great grandpa’s
Drunk slumbers
Running from the horned guy of fiery righteousness
Running upstairs
Crawling
Terrified
The slightest minute alone up there
Was fear
I found it oddly comforting
To sit there
And wait for things to happen
For doors to pop open
With no wind
For old women to pace
For electronics to turn off and on
And for footsteps to be heard with no one there
To feel the presence of someone else in the next room
When no one was there
I was weird

They are so delicate, yet so strong.
They either hide, or they stand out loud.
Don’t be the hider.
Cry when it hurts.
Yell when you’re  mad. 

Smile when you’re happy.
Be the person who doesn’t hide,
be the person who is not afraid to keep it inside.

Little Trees hang on the rear view

Next to an old dream catcher

Stickers cover up the back glass

Of all the places your tires have trekked

Long winding roads following a line of trees

The sun beats down on the water

Reflecting the prettiest baby blue,

Mountain peaks reach as high as the clouds

The fresh air seeps through the car

A smell that reminds us of childhood

Sometimes all you need is to get lost in the adventure

the kind of evening
cool yet not breezy
kids’ voices carrying as they play past sunset
the type of nighttime which follows a day of puffy white clouds
now clear sky on clear sky 
a peacefulness while the world morphs on
tomorrow soon to be here
above, the darkest of blues
while my mood is yellow
no wishes to come true tonight
but hope rests with dreams

When I look at photos of myself taken before I met you,
I realize that I am also looking at pictures taken before I met me. 
You gave me the safety and security I’d been seeking, and allowed me to explore places I had been afraid existed.
You cheered me on as I challenged my own thoughts, and experimented with expression. 
Never once have you batted an eye, or asked me to reel it in,
And I am so thankful that you have gifted us both with the best version of myself. 

Maybe the Beach Will Be Good For You

In the Grand Scheme of Things…

“No One Will Know” 

Ghost Words Uttered From

A Story

Of You

A Story

I held as

True

When Your Ex Lover Cried

On the Phone
Telling Me
My Worst Fears
Were
True

Now and Then
Now and
Again

I remember that

Perfect Reflection of Us
Standing on the Street captured by You
Framed
In
My
Heart

Blood Brother?
Close Enough

Was the You I loved
Even
Real

?

Or
Just
A
Lie

?

When did the Clown
Come Out?
And Hide the Good
Things
Reveal the
Real Horror?

Joker

You Joker

I wish it wasn’t real
But it Is
And
I
Hate
You
For
It

Enjoi the Sun
Monster
I hope
It
Tears
Way
Your
Flesh
Your
Meat
Your
Bone
Your
Soul

I hope Your Mom
Has a Big Hug for You

I hope they
Will
Forgive
You

Cause I wont
Be
Able

It
Stands
Against
Who
I am
Or
Is it
Who I Be
Came

Twelve Years
Past
Like Ticks on a Clock

Every Moment
Questioned
Wish it Was
Real

Sea of What
Always Shifting

Growing Up
Is
Even
Harder

Death is Easier
Than the Truth

A lie 
To get by 

The Truth is
The Death of You

The You 
I thought I 
Knew

My heart cries
Though my eyes are dry

“I’ll see you in the Desert” was what I said

After I cried 
When I hugged You 
Goodbye

there are the greats, the goods, and the duds. 
this triptych differentiated, edited *infintaneously, in this macrocosm, quiet.
where man meets self and self meets journey, the mind a floating invisible thing.
never to be touched by self.
only to be unfolded where the glossary reads, “all that you are is temporary.”

my peonies are blooming, but my trash bin stays at the end of my driveway still.
my record collection outgrows its magazine rack, but I still can’t whistle.
my bedside trunk stays strapped above ground, unlike the mysterious woman who owned it before me. 
is there a word for holding all the pieces of yourself and in agony, wanting someone else to hold some too?
if I had to choose one, quiet.

*infintaneously: a cross between infinite and instantaneously. I enjoy making the reader question their own grammatical morals as much as I enjoy making my own rules.

Two willows weeping
ancient arching canopy
roots seeking water