Quote

The first time my town saw the sky it sucker-punched us in the throat, left us breathless, said, I'm gonna keep you awake some nights without touching you. You'll make it up, the pain, you always do.

Buddy Wakefield

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Buddy Wakefield
Age: 50
Born: 1974
Born: June 4
Poet
Shreveport
Louisiana
Keep
Awake
Night
Town
Firsts
Towns
Punched
Without
Sky
Breathless
First
Gonna
Sucker
Make
Saws
Nights
Always
Pain
Touching
Time
Left
Throat

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There is a point when tears don't work to wash things away anymore. Grabbing for breath has now broken my fingers.
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Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.
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The truth is that this universe is gassy and unpredictable. It still has not said excuse me for The Big Bang. Sometimes we expect too much instead of practicing enough or receiving in us just the right answer. You, the Staggering Answer
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A trajectory of misery – at this point – seems intentional. We have all the information we need to see clearly. We are no longer unaware toddlers on the landscape of consciousness. It is no longer cute to crap ourselves.
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The future gets no say in who we are.
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Stop congregating in the valley just because an echo sounds good when it agrees with itself.
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Knowing me is easy. You can still twist your hair and feel silly. Look up the word tacky and have a salad. But when we're together you pull bread apart with your fingers into bites sometimes so small I gotta remind you, Peach, it is okay to be hungry.
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I choose to politely ask myself to step aside if I am in my own way. If I do not get out of my way, I choose to call a friend who will have me removed.
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Stop inviting walls into wide open spaces.
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Everything is out there. That's why they call it everything.
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You're a free-standing landing pad held together by choir claps.
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But I still show up for gentleman practice in the company of lead dancers, hoping their grace will get stuck in my shoes.
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If you've never been rocked back by the presence of purpose this poem is too soon for you. Return to your mediocrity, plug it into an amplifier and rethink yourself.
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How honest is it that we drink until we are dehydrated?
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I would fall in love with you if you would beat these people out of me.
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If I didn't have so much of this life all wrong I would have gotten it right by now.
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I don't care to be good, Sheriff. I care to be whole.
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Pretend – inside your skin – you've got a friend, who's willing to give you everything you ever wanted in exchange for all you've ever been.
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I'm ready to kill something. I'll probably only get as far as my brain cells, but I am going to kill them.
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What children and the landing of a plane most have in common is that they are best made by a line drive of pilot lights guided through a single tambourine across the day we met in a field of wet metal hands on The Gospel of Lightning.
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