Long Appalachia Poems

It was here,
On the heart of Appalachia
Where the moon and stars shimmer
Across the blue gray ridges,
Where the sunlight reflects the whisper
Echoing through the pines and laurels
Struggling to be heard through the stillness
Darkening the whimsical thoughts
Quieting...

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Resting In These Tennessee Hills

Lazy mornings in these Tennessee hills
Horned owl in tree behind house hoots all night
Sometimes annoys but often gifts a thrill
As country-fired moon sends us brighter light!

Mellow breeze, waltz morn rays with...

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Black market product truckload ... 
illegal cargo of tax-free merchandise,
and plenty boxed liquor of trouble
Leather clad tattooed dirty violet blonde
riding shotgun,
with a Rambo knife hugging her thigh
In the cab backseat
sit two mountain men beastie boys
strapped...

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Perhaps it was a bit of old moral Navy nostalgia misting from Dad's brow as he taught us moral just rule.
At times in my life, honoring my father and mother; one of the ten commandments--...

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It’s in the rows of old oaks
                the pothole that was never filled,
       ...

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It was after the defeat at Camden,
in the fall of 1780,
British Major Patrick Ferguson
sought to exploit Britain’s victory.

To secure South Carolina’s countryside,
he marched his loyalist forces forward,
threatened the men beyond Appalachia,
said he would lay waste...

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Memories in Appalachia reveals a piece of the past that will forever be chiseled on my soul, a reminder of the treasure I had within my grasp as a child.

God's Kind of Poetry...

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"The Folk Dance"
On the backs of well formed muscular miners 
Working hard in the trenches on a daily basis
For the men who need coal, fat cats and such
Dirty, sweaty and tireless toil try to wear...

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Take that road down yonder, she said
Toward the signpost that reads, lickskillet
Turn right up thar and then left after that
To a highfulootin road that’s paved in black

After you see the red store building by the...

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Sarah earned her salt in the Carolina hills
The year was 1800, they mined to pay the bills
The ground was hard and rocky, the winters were bone chilling
The Cherokee were a mixed lot, some friendly some...

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The Appalachia World Championship Genre
is a newly researchable entity that along
with the collaborations of many people look
to meet the concerns of millions by developing
a community that will expand from the
American South East into South Eastern...

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Words I’ve heard my whole life
Poor old David, poor old Michael, poor old daddy

If you’re from the heart of Appalachia, these are…
Words that mean the person is down on their luck,
Lost in the faded breathe...

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City born Northerners,
Kiss the last rays of sunlight,
With pampered lips
While those of us born and raised 
In the south, Appalachian –

We dust off the melting sun
With a laugh that sheds the heat
From our pores and...

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Sometimes when shadows fall across the ridges
Spirits conjure up images from the foggy valleys
Rapidly fading memories of mountain life yesterday.
Majestic crests still whisper hidden secrets of the past--

Escapes from Trails of Tears, wretched poverty,
Melungeon peoples...

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In the heart of Appalachia 
are a people
Stigmatized and down trodden 
honestly forgotten
they will invite you over for Sunday dinner
Their hospitality unrivaled
they will tell you this history of their people
From the great rivalries to its...

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Blue is the color of the sky and the sea on a sunny day
Blue skies are skies that are ripe for sailors and for sailing, and
we all wonder what's at the bottom of the beautiful...

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At my age you trickle the tap less 
to keep down the cost.  You do things 
like that, and you 

quote, work for a living, end quote.

I know things.  I know the price...

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L Milton Hankins loved by all here on Poetry Soup
He kept true to himself and to us with authenticity
Daily poems intimate, inciting, true to the group         ...

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The Bible sits on the coffee table
The center of the home
As it should be, naturally,
The heart of God’s word

The Bible makes its mark on me
And every family
That has lived in this rural place
We call Appalachia

The...

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The Bible sits on the coffee table
The center of the home
As it should be, naturally,
The heart of God’s word

The Bible makes its mark on me
And every family
That has lived in this rural place
We call Appalachia

The...

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My weary soul returns to mourn in Appalachia,
A place were Sam built well my burial chamber.
Now, drunken slumber translates my long held grief,
And no boundless peace gives me relief.
Sorrow begets tears.

Can life name now one...

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A sensation with ratings so high
Donald lulls the press who stand by
Even gods cower
In front of Trump Tower
Which will be our future Versailles



Author's note:  We know that he really cares about all of us...

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Written September 4, 2016


So tired of all this stress
The hours I've put in this desk
Sending and receiving
Never truly reading
A glaze has covered my eyes

I've known it all too well
The pain of walking the line
Toeing the...

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Every morning at close to four
She made the coffee, percolated
Poured it into cups with saucers
And they each would have a cup
Pouring the potent black liquid
Into the saucers before drinking
The cooling solution from them

This was only...

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Expertly I sit down,
the recliner jumps to my command.
The friends of George Washington are here
they come bearing paw paw and cloud berries.
I am a native morning in Appalachia,
there, where all is fair,
peace tailspins out
as two...

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