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Category: Bad Poetry
There’s no help for it
I just want to be myself Completely myself, always Not pieces of myself I think about the women who barely smile in pictures Who never light their “fancy” candles Who always say no to seconds and dessert Who refuse to wear their real diamond earrings And never go swimming because of how they think their legs and butt look in a swimsuit How do you stand it? I grin so big my face hurts I never have fancy candles My dirty diamonds still sparkle My legs are chalk white and my hind end is fat But I won’t let that stop me I will always laugh too hard Too loudly Too long And probably snort and get myself started again I get BBQ sauce and powdered sugar all over everything I own and I don’t even care I will make cookies just for me And I will post ridiculous memes And bad poetry And I will text you inappropriate jokes all hours of the day and night Because sometimes I can’t sleep The moon knows there are things I’m not finished thinking about It has recently occurred to me That I deny myself nothing And why should I My happiness can come first And if I want to sing while I cook And dance while I brush my teeth And not mop my floors for two weeks It’s ok I can do that And if I had a tail I wouldn’t hide it It…
It is always easier To write a poem Than a story Because a poem can have several Interpretations And you can look as hard as you want to But still not find the true one Is it better to start the day off Like a dog With no expectations Of what the day will hold Or should we expect the very best scenario And then be disappointed when it’s everything but And then what Because that’s what typically happens But sometimes Just sometimes It’s even better…
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My hair was the wrong color So I dyed it And I felt much better I wouldn’t put up with it So I left And I took my horse And the cookie dough I couldn’t stand it And I told them so And they didn’t take me seriously So I left And I was happy For a time You were all I dreamed of But it was an illusion And I thought I could fight it But you wouldn’t stand beside me And so I sent you on your way Do you see the pattern I finally do I have a low tolerance for bullshit And I won’t put up with it Not for five minutes Not for forty years And I don’t trust any of you…
These old men Mountains Men of the mountains Mountains made these men The ground cold into May Wet till October And then the gold is abundant Don’t pan- just look up Salamanders scurry And squirrels scold And bear chew Lazy, arrogant Brides with wildflower halos And dulcimers on the porch Chicken and dumplins on Sunday After Bible thumpin’ amens Old baying dogs with black patches Flogging roosters Rusted tools hanging forgotten But don’t kill the black snake Didja hear about Shorty Gonna run ’em a cobbler Porch swing’s squeakin’ What to do with all this squash Yes ma’am And thank you Please don’t trouble yourself Prettiest quilt I ever laid eyes on There’s watermelon And sweet tea Cousins are all comin’ too Just wanna drop in this heat We’re headed to the lake To the funeral home Just want to set a spell All we do is run run run Rain’s on the way Mail’s late Kids comin’ in for Thanksgiving Can’t wait to get to the beach So green it’ll hurt your eyes So humid you can wring the water off of you So slow you think you’ll never get there And everybody’s talkin’ ’bout football Stay Southern, y’all Love from Appalachia, ~Amy…
I do not stop for him I will not even pause But if he gives chase I will give him a smile over my shoulder I will flip my hair And arch my eyebrow And maddeningly For both he and I I will pretend that he’s the one Even though I know better And he should, too But I trust my name in his mouth And I love when he tells me little things It’s like Drops of nectar from a honeysuckle flower Never enough But sweet all the same What I offer him Is myself Uncensored Honest Bare I don’t know why But I don’t need a reason…
Poets Poets are Poets are supposed to be clingy And thoughtful And introspective And in love Poets are dreamy And indecisive And flighty And flakey Poets speak softly Poets are heartbroken And have sad eyes And wear their solitude like a badge Poets are willowy And wispy And don’t eat much Poets are lyrical Poets can while away an afternoon Just sitting in one spot Looking at a blade of grass Poets are made of secrets and whispers and stardust Poets have a disheveled appearance So at least I’ve got the hair right…
Did you mean to break meOr just simply push Right up to the edgeCalculatingAnd you hold my wristWhile we sleepAnd you call my nameBut I swirland spinOut of your graspBecause I know betterAs to who is breaking whose heart…
I’m sorry I was lateI was taking pictures of the sunriseIt wasn’t that I meant to linger so longBut it was so beautiful It kind of took my breathAnd there was an incident With coffee spilledAnd it never failsWhen I’m short on time There’s someone out for a Sunday driveOn a Tuesday morningAt 7:30My apologies For not paying attentionBut I was watching the crowsAnd wondering what all the fuss was aboutMy mind constantly wandersAnd I compose poetryIn my headAbout beautyAnd graceBut most of all strength…and sometimes foodThere’s always loveI apologize for keeping you waitingBut I smudged my mascara When I sneezedAnd I want to appear perfectJust every now and thenI wish I could Make you understandWhy I want to drink you like waterAnd I just want you near all the timeBut until you feel that wayYou can never understandI think this has gone on long enoughGod pushes us togetherEvery time there’s a breakAnd you’ve noticed it, tooYou’ve driven me to distractionAt least a dozen times a dayI will you to keep me updatedOn all the little TinyInsignificant(To you)Things that make up your lifeNot because I’m boredBut I miss having a person To think aboutAnd pray for their happinessAnd I’m sorry I cry when I read this to youBut I can’t help itAnd there goes my mascara again…
