Category: religious studies
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she kept her honor
so he took her like an animal
but my father’s ghost wept
so she went to the men
like a good American
good people don’t want to believe
in visionaries good or bad
especially when you have red clay mud
starved stabbed scabbed over and over
on your grandmother’s dress from being raped just like her
from ft. Sumter to Wounded Knee
he’d never seen that color red come out of a living fertility statue
my veil is torn
the dog is dead
the natives have resumed their drumbeat
Categories
Abelard and Heloise activism affectation Americana Anne Boleyn Art astrolabe astronomy atheism baseball writing battle beauty belief books California cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art digital photography divinity domestic violence ecology education electoral process English epicuriosity epidemeology Europe fairy tales feminism festivities film forensics fucking funerals furniture geneology geography girl stuff good reads government government and a lack thereof gratitude happiness health Hell history holidays horror human behavior humanity humor Hunter S. Thompson iconography infidelity insects Jazz journalism Kentucky kindness kinetics Lent life literature local color love love poetry mindfulness mortuary sciences mourning muse mythology nature nightmares non-fiction ornithology pandemics papyrus parenting Paris performance photography physics poetic theory poetry politics pop culture produce psychology public broadcasting publishing punk puppies reading red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies relationships religion religious studies reproductive rights rituals romance science science writing self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts The British Royal Crown theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war waste weddings womens studies words writing
Ha!! Me, too…
Categories
Abelard and Heloise activism Americana animals Anne Boleyn astrolabe astronomy baseball writing battle beauty belief bibliophilia biology books botany California cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections corsets crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art digital photography divinity domestic violence drawing ecology education electoral process English epicuriosity epidemeology Europe fairy tales family fashion fauna feminism festivities fiction film food forensics fucking funerals furniture geneology geography girl stuff good reads government government and a lack thereof gratitude Halloween happiness health Hell history holidays human behavior iconography Jazz journalism kindness kinetics Lent life literature local color love poetry medicine mindfulness mortuary sciences mourning muse museums Music mythology nature non-fiction Ohio ornithology painting pandemics papyrus parenthood parenting Paris performance photography physics poetic theory politics pop culture produce psychology public broadcasting publishing punk puppies reading red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies relationships religious studies reproductive rights rituals romance science science writing seasons self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology sociopathology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts The British Royal Crown theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war waste weddings women words writing
Poof* Take MY water
Categories
aphonic
you’re a thousand poems
I’ll never write
every night you were away
i sought you out
through blackberry bramble ether
from weeping constellations above dixmyth avenue
to jessamine county barns filled with horse hay
perpetually wrapping blue ribbon around my finger
whispering vespers
my plea to the particles of the universe
to hold you together
to bring you back from oblivion
as you had done for me
you are my chosen family
inextricably part
of my thunderous heart
to which you will always hold the latchkey
.
every word tumbled off
his biforcated tongue
was exaggeration
diminished reason
justification
grand delusion
half truths
folded gently
into lies
melted pretty please
bullshit buttered
sweet peas
conspiracy theories
baked into
blackbird pie
melodic compositions
leaving a dense fog
of fetid floating
musical notes
breath
Faustian
devil in the details
leading his trusting musician
to snap
an unwilling head
in revulsion
when the truth emerged bloody
before burning eyes
Perhaps God
is a temperamental visual artist,
who is perpetually
dissatisfied with his earthly work,
so he just keeps adding more
bloody paint,
shards of garbage,
and odd designs
to trash the damned thing?
.
Twin brothers
born of the 3rd century
in Cilcia, Turkey
.
The patron saints of
physicians and surgeons
and those suffering
with blood disease
.
kindly hear
my anemic prayer
.
Saints who gave up their lives
so that others
may have comfort and mercy
.
Saint Kosmas
and
Saint Damianos
speak in gently whispered prayer
to God for me
.
O Gladsome Light of the Heavens
I implore the holy spirit
to take away my ailments
and be of service to others
that they see
of thy
Glory
.
.
Categories
Americana art behavior books childhood civility ecology education family government government and a lack thereof happiness history Kentucky literature local color love Music nature non-fiction poetry punk religious studies rituals society sociology Southern Gothic traditions Uncategorized Urban Legends womens studies writing
50 year plan
keep my mother proud of me
give my sons braggin’ rights
love in their hearts
and wisdom in their minds
be the reason my father’s sooty
fallen angel wings
spread wide
closer to the throne of god
when i do something right
perform a poem
at the inauguration
of the first female president
allow my deeds to accomodate
sleeping well at night