Category: suicide

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

https://youtu.be/eg2Kw1jIXOw

Tags #protests, #rock, #roevwade, #science #heaven, #scotus, #society #afterlife, #villainny, 1984, 1995 Japanese subway gas attack, 2012, 2013 World Series, 21st century girls, 4th of July, 5th Avenue, 80's children, A & P, a good bending over, A Midsummer Night's Dream, A Wrinkle in Time, AA, abnormal psychology, Abortion, Abraham Lincoln, Abraham Maslow, absence, Absurdity, academia, accents, acceptance, accordions, activism, Addiction, adultery, advocating, affection, Afghanistan, Afterlife, aftermath, agriculture, air mail, Airplane, airports, Akron, Alcoholism, Alfred Hitchcock, Alice B. Toklas, Alicia in Wonderland, Alicia Young, Allen Ginsberg, alternative rock, Altoid Mints, American Culture, american history, American Indians, Americana, Amtrak, amulets, Anatomy, Ancestry, ancient history, and more fucking, Andy Warhol, Andy Warhol Bridge, anemia, angels, Animals, Anne Boleyn, anniversaries, anthologies, anti-social personality disorder, antibodies, Antigua, antiques, antiseptic ointment, apartments, apocalypse, apologies, Appalachia, Apples, April, arachnids, Aralee Strange, arbor day, Archery, architecture, Argentina, Arkansas, armageddon, Belief, death, humanity, Music, Punk, Society

Americana analysis behavior bibliophilia books cemeteries childhood death destruction physics poetry Southern Gothic suicide Uncategorized

a leaf that lingered brown

Post author By aayoung
Post date June 28, 2020
3 Comments on a leaf that lingered brown

i blame robert frost
his cold methodology
his need to fill disused graveyards with
death’s dazzling white snow glamour
a slow creep crystalline across
an already shattered windshield

i blame robert frost
as i cannot blame
my father
my friend
or an absent god
for them forgetting
they had promises to keep

Tags cold, death, family, poetry, Robert Frost, Snow, Suicide, Winter

affectation Americana analysis biology cemeteries childhood death family funerals geneology parenting psychology rituals self-care Southern Gothic suicide

you can’t get there from here

Post author By aayoung
Post date June 21, 2020
No Comments on you can’t get there from here

happy Father’s Day, dad

you were

Tags acceptance, fathers day, Suicide

Americana cinema civility coffee comfort dance death desserts destruction divinity domestic violence ecology electoral process English fairy tales family forensics fucking funerals geneology government and a lack thereof horror human behavior humanity humor iconography infidelity insects Jazz journalism kindness kinetics life literature local color love love poetry medicine mindfulness mortuary science mourning non-fiction ornithology painting pandemics parenthood Paris performance photography physics poetic theory poetry pop culture psychology publishing punk reading relationship studies rituals romance science science writing 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 theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice waste weddings womens studies words writing

Paris in the rain

a woman’s life

is too tenuous

delicate

billowy

spider web

close call on I-75

in preterm labor

on the way to the

Paris airport

in the rain

fragile

beautiful

precious

sacrosanct

finite

for bad friends

bad family

bad coffee

bad shoes

bad mattresses

bad jobs

bad husbands

bad debt

and bad dick

learn this by 30 for maximum

enjoyment

future

female

conquerors

of a dying planet

analysis behavior cemeteries childhood death destruction life love poetry Southern Gothic suicide writing

father death

my father didn’t leave

a suicide note

but his abrupt departure

condemned me

to write thousands of them

in my head

Tags Appalachia, death, Dysfunction, Pain, poetry

art behavior books civility Europe happiness history literature love mortuary sciences nature non-fiction poetry psychology punk sociology suicide thanatology Uncategorized writing

Nietzsche wasn’t so peachy, but this woman…

Post author By aayoung
Post date January 24, 2015
No Comments on Nietzsche wasn’t so peachy, but this woman…

Janne Teller,

a Danish novelist

of Austrian-German background,

wrote the line,

“From the moment we are born,

we begin to die.”

I, poet,

think to myself,

only a Danish novelist

of Austrian-German background

could possibly conceive of a line

that fucking morbid.

The following line should simply read,

“Why not avoid the protracted suffering

and slit your wrists, the proper way, now?”

Death was my business for many years,

Ms. Janne “I-Need-Zoloft” Teller.

I am pleased to inform you,

there is a prolonged period

between birth and death

which we warm blooded humans

refer to as, “life,”

and it is nothing short

of miraculous.

Tags Alicia Young, Ancestry, beauty, Birth, death, depression, Europe, humanity, Janne Teller, Life, light, Nietzsche, poetry

activism addiction Americana art behavior biology books childhood cinema comedy crime ecology family film government government and a lack thereof happiness history Jazz journalism Kentucky literature local color love Music nature non-fiction pandemics physics poetry politics produce psychology punk relationship studies religion religious studies rituals science Short Stories sociology Southern Gothic suicide thanatology the arts theatre travel Uncategorized war writing

you’re so much like daddy, be the death of me

Post author By aayoung
Post date November 17, 2014
No Comments on you’re so much like daddy, be the death of me

my father died in 1984

i haven’t been able to remember his voice since 1986

and the sound of a voice

is the most precious thing to me

but this morning

your twang brought back synapses who longed for three decades to remember

“Daddy loves you, Alicia, be a good girl”

(and i died a thousand deaths in the minutes still ringing after)

and how five minutes later

out the front door

would go all my mother’s clothing

and our Zenith console TV

thank you for that

saddle up, cowboy

give me immortality

you’re so much like daddy

be the death of me

Tags death, immortality, love, perfection

poetry sociology suicide

honorable mention

my father drove

through two kentucky counties

screaming

“It’s a girl!”

after twenty years

three wives

and four boys, one of which

he could not claim

just before the depression took hold

and dying by his own hand

became more appealing

than dying slowly

in front of me

“Do you think I want Alicia to see me like this?”

he screamed at her

while the garbage burned…

and she agreed

Tags death, depression, Fatherhood, Kentucky

addiction Americana art behavior cinema comedy crime domestic violence ecology education family film happiness history Jazz literature local color love Music pandemics physics poetry psychology punk relationship studies religious studies rituals science Short Stories sociology Southern Gothic suicide the arts travel Uncategorized Urban Legends war writing

our neighbors would hate us

Post author By aayoung
Post date January 19, 2013
2 Comments on our neighbors would hate us

it was the moment
i felt the weight of you

that come hither look in your eyes

a crashing instant
when i contemplated
what we would be

we would make antony and cleopatra seem uncommitted

a passion so profound

it would negate my need for panties

i made the decision
not to want you
or the responsibility of your happiness

chose never to be the person
who complains you’re never around

and when you’re home don’t lift a finger

i never want to be your freshest regret

what a perfect disaster we would be

our neighbors would hate us

we would go to home depot

and choose to paint the bathroom an almost puce shade of armageddon

we would watch fatal attraction together and immediately run to ikea

for more lamps and cutlery

scratching vinyl to a screeching stop

speakers and clothing flying

through rattling windows

we’d brawl over a bourbon bottle

some june night

and threaten to cut each other

with the jagged pieces

of a kenny rogers and the first edition album

perpetually polar

fucking or fighting
either way it would be noisy

we would drive the sidewalk to drink

all the pearls in the world
would fall from their strands

we would tire of crying

you would invalidate my every previous love poem

our car would eternally be waiting to plunge

from an icy bridge

in the deep south

midwinter

because i threatened to jump out and through the door open to puke

and you swerved trying to grab for my

drunk ass

because we’d love each other more than we had collective sense

there must be a heaven for that

Tags Bourbon, car crashes, death, friendship, Heaven, honor, Kenny Rogers, love, Music, Passion, poetry, southern gothic poetry, tragedy, writing

This is an example of a sitewide notice - you can change or remove this text in the Customizer under "Store Notice" Dismiss