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Kelsey Seagle Poem
Imagine juicy diamonds on our fingers the size of nickels
and old polaroids on ourselves, hungry for some fresh film
for capturing moments like the ones we have down by the river
and in our backyard where we grow mammoth sunflowers
and bowling ball melons. Think of walking through enchanted
woods and discovering a creek abundant with golden
nuggets and sapphires the color of our son's eyes. Shush -
no hollering, those eyes are always watching us so let's
dance in the living room to Elvis Presley and Johny Cash while
the puppies bite at our ankles. I'll vow to always kill every
red wasp that flies into our home uninvited and to never leave
the stove eyes glowing cherry red, and even if the creek
out back rises and floods the garden out I will not shed a
single tear but only run out into the storm to dig trenches
around it to guide it away. Imagine picking our own bouquets
of aster flowes and bachelor's buttons and arranging them
in glass pitchers along the mantle next to the geode collection
so the waxy petals will contrast with the vibrant jewels and
we can adore them both together on bad days when money
runs dry like a cloudless afternoon. Imagine there is a
Heaven and discovering we will not dare go without one
another so maybe God will spare our little life's for his grand
eternity someday over the translucent rainbows and glistening
oceans and whispering meadows and hovering clouds.
Copyright © Kelsey Seagle | Year Posted 2023
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Kelsey Seagle Poem
We sit on the wet pavement of the 7/11 at 4 AM,
smoking camels beneath the eerie glow of the
gas station lights. This is the hour of nostalgia.
You're all bubble gum day dreams and heart
shaped sunglasses with a bad attitude.
I'm all liquid depression and over sized
hoodies with a drinking problem.
We watch as the morning cracks the sky
open like an egg as the world slowly wakes
and the darkness of a highway becomes
speckled with the orbs of headlights.
We flick our cigarette butts towards the gas
pumps because we know it's a bad idea.
In a book bag there is a bottle of jager -
I take a good drag and pass it to you -
a toast to this hour of nostalgia.
-kelsey jade
Copyright © Kelsey Seagle | Year Posted 2023
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Kelsey Seagle Poem
menthol cigarettes / messy journals / propane torches / unfinished poems /
broken promises / black bandana / clock rings /
thrift shops / candle wax / stolen books / peach nehi /
poison ivy / nicotine gum / ripped overalls /
leyland cypresses / junkyard blues / gutted cigarellos / abandoned houses /
tin foil flowers / gatorade / starburst / diabetic insulin syringes /
toy boats / vix vapor rub / red nose pitbull / lemon balm /
cutflowers / river stones / wooden crosses / cluttered bookstores /
broken pocket watches / bad behavior / birdsong / bantam chickens /
spare tires / cartoon band aids / unread voicemails / black ink /
ripped dollar bills / friendship bracelets / dirty laundry / vinyl /
chopped firewood / inferno / 70's model trucks / heart locket /
fave pen / soda slushies / free verse poetry / lana del rey / god jesus /
Copyright © Kelsey Seagle | Year Posted 2023
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Kelsey Seagle Poem
Take me back to the dime bag days
when we were hotel hippies,
thirsty for trouble and stuck in a state
of delirium.
Our souls were scattered messes
among the unbent hills -
dreaming of rebellion and freedom,
pockets empty, heart's empty
Having no sense of direction and
craving toxicity like it is a
natural remedy. We were walking
disasters, baddie two shoes.
Copyright © Kelsey Seagle | Year Posted 2023
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Kelsey Seagle Poem
Dusty and distraught the afternoon laid out
like a sun-shaped jewel ahead of us.
Our marble eyes will fill up with salty tears
and the rivers will swell until they drown
the glittering meadows in madness.
Our screen door summers will be like
shattered blue china and so we will trudge
through the day lilies and clementines
alongside the infinite stretches of powerlines
that run the hillsides.
We are the late bloomers and the daydreamers.
The ding dong ditchers and the hide and
seekers. The hopscotchers and leap froggers.
Living among the star magnolias and mimosas.
Our sun drenched world was full of fragrant
bursts of flowers and pink clusters of fluff.
Spongy moss and delicate wisps of grass
served as our place to nap, right there below
the copper stained sunsets.
Take me back to the days we poured cherry
soda over our vanilla ice cream and crunched
on crushed ice. The evenings we gathered
sticks to burn as defense against the insects
and mosquitoes. There was never an issue
with illness and that was all thanks to the
tablespoon of apple cider vinegar we consumed
daily. The best stories were told while sitting
in rocking chairs on the front porch. We chased
chicken hawks like wild hyenas and made up
our own special calls whenever we lost each
other in the woods.
It seems we all lost track of time during all
those fights and parties and birthdays and
graduations and baby showers and weddings.
It seems all we have left of those days are
photographs and scars. Maybe even a little
heartache. But one thing is for sure,
we left our mark.
Copyright © Kelsey Seagle | Year Posted 2023
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Kelsey Seagle Poem
I live for that feeling of complete
weightlessness, when we speed
down back roads lined with corn
fields and rolling grasslands that
stretch all the way to the foot of
the mountains.
I would tighten my arms around
his waist as the speedometer
touched 140mph. We zoomed
through the darkness like
screaming demons on two wheels.
The sky peeled away like a
panoramic screen unraveling
past us.
I drank up the crisp air, I
saturated myself in adrenaline
like a junkie. It was just the
two of us, phantoms of the
night, spirits of the asphalt,
our souls aligning with the
road beneath us.
No one could possibly catch us.
Dedicated to the ride, locking
pinky promises with the highways
and interstates, always swearing
to return, to meet again with the
meditative route.
To me this is much more than a
form of transportation, it's a
lifestyle, a way to soak up your
pure bliss, a form of peace and
harmony. It's being born to ride.
Copyright © Kelsey Seagle | Year Posted 2023
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