The ants crawl across my skin in uniform,
allowing me to trace
the patterns of their platoons
and hear their screeching war cry
as they stomp and scrape
their six feet across the length of my skin,
leaving scratches invisible to the human eye,
so that not even the doctors
can decipher the cause of my pain.
Bring back my mountain tops
Bring back my evergreens
Bring back my sea turtles unbloated stomachs
Bring back my beaches clear of debris
And my pastures of flowers and rabbit warrens
Remind me of how the grass sashayed in the breeze
And how the birds once had lungs that let them sing
So bring back my mountain streams and my prairie lands
Bring back my plunging gorges
Bring back my rolling hills
Bring back the untouched land, the virgin soil, the pure places you never touched
Because oh how I miss them
I was once told I had the hands of a pianist
But my fingers are composed
Of twigs that have been stepped on
By hunters tracking doe through the forest
And cracked wood can’t be used for much of anything.
Check out my new poem “Under your eyes” at Dead Snakes! Some of you may recognize it as a later draft of “9-16-15”
Darling, I hate the color pink,
but I love the reddening of your cheeks
and, baby, I hate the smell of turtles,
but I’d clean your turtles’ cage
for the first time in three weeks
if it meant that I could
see your smile
in the morning
as we’re trying to share the mirror
while we brush our teeth
and, sweetheart, I hate
getting caught in the early winter rain,
but I would stand outside your window
while the sky grows into a waterfall,
just so that I could sing you
the songs I would put on your mixtape
if I had a tape with which to make one
I absolutely abhor mixtapes.
Hey y’all could I beg a favor of you?
So, I’m attempting to apply for this scholarship. School is expensive. I’m not going to lie. The cost just got even more now that I’ve decided to apply for graduate school to get my MAT.
I want to be a teacher. I want to teach this next generation how to write. This summer, I worked with a group of gifted middle schoolers who really changed my view on the current state of education in regards to writing.
These kids aren’t told they can write poetry. They aren’t told they can express themselves. I had a moment, where I told them they were going to write bad poetry and that’s okay because that’s how they got better. They stared back at me and said, “No one has ever told me that before.” It was as if a light had gone on in their eyes. Suddenly, they wanted to write. They enjoyed writing. It became something they liked. That’s what I want to do. I want to make kids like writing. I want to help them learn how to express themselves. I want them to help them fall in love with writing like I have.
I cannot do that without getting my teaching certification. I need more degrees before I can start teaching. I haven’t even finished my undergraduate degree yet, but I’m getting close. Unfortunately the cost of my undergrad is going up every year. I’m scared to think about how much grad school is going to cost. In order to offset these costs, I’m working. I’m always working, as anyone who knows me has seen. I’ve also been applying to tons of scholarships.
One of them, the one I’ve linked below, requires votes. I need people to support me to move on to the next step, so I would appreciate it greatly if you would click the link and vote for me. I only need, as of right now, 15 more votes. It will only take a few seconds of your time, and I will appreciate it ever so much more than you will ever realize.
Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a wonderful, phenomenal day.