#illustrans

Sitting on the night dark
Front steps of AA,
He reflects on
What brought him here.
Drinking career
Starting at 13,
Need to escape
Showed him
The bottom of
A bottle
Way too many times.
He wants change;
He wasn’t ready,
Last time.
Sick of
Oblivion, Andy.

~A.G. 11/21/19

The ushers still
Call him by nickname;
He’s a familiar face now
And she’s gotta know more.
Cocoa cup conversation
Reveals his past
And his predicament.
He is searching,
But not quite sure
What for.
This pothole sucks but
Keeps him safe from
The traffic overhead.
If he moves,
He’s sure to be knocked
Further down,
Amongst the
Disappointment,
Guilt,
Anxiety,
Depression,
And fear.
He asks why not more.

~A.G. 11/20/19

An instantaneous mist gathers
At a glance through glass door.
In dim artificial candlelight
A vulnerable figure kneels.
Conversing deeply yet silently
With evident devotion.
The moment feels too intimate
To witness from carpet-rooted stance.
This lobby is too close
And too far at once.
A role-model servant
Exuding authentic but gentle masculinity.
The feeling of choking and peace
Is caused by this stolen sight.

~A.G. 11/19/19

Muffin wrappers lit on fire
Iced tea bottles in pieces,
The enigma of a person’s change,
A source of constant frustration.

There’s much I don’t like about myself,
There’s much I’ve fought to change.
Progress has been made
Just as much as hasn’t.

The inconvenience of a self-preservation
That activates traits most hated,
Tests progress thought to be made,
And limits the challenge of identity.

It seems change is a result of pain,
Whatever form that be,
But certain traits remain inherent,
A default that will stay.

You can discern the response
But can’t help the initial reaction,
Redirection of recourse,
But not the source of clash.

So yes I’ve changed
And I’m still changing,
But recognize the things that bother you,
Torment me far more.

Struggles with the self
Are rarely pleasant,
Reminiscent of the implications
Of knife fights with God.

~A.G. 11/18/19

Casseroles,
All over,
Green bean,
Pineapple,
Sweet potato,
And noodle.
Silt-murky rivers,
Reddish clay ground,
Work your own land
And help out your
Neighbors.
Chainsaws, axes,
And ride-on mowers.
A handgun on every
Bed-side table,
And a shotgun on the
Mantle,
Let the dogs go,
They know their way home.
Aberdeen, Mississippi.

~A.G. 11/17/19

500 track,
Massive 2 floor
Convention center.
Abstract art Torch
And chipmunk squirrel
Crossbreeds
In parks spaced between
Towering buildings and
The longest city streets.
Indianapolis, Indiana.

~A.G. 11/16/19

Personality bigger than her,
She’s not afraid to speak
Love and Truth.
She works hard,
Laughs hard,
Plays hard.
A goofball
And a listener,
A Tumblr girl
And a writer.
Protective,
Loyal,
Compassionate,
My best friend.
And I’m lucky
To know her.

~A.G. 11/15/19

Using chalk
Sparingly
And wearing the
World’s Cutest Shoes
(Ever).
I’ve been told
Humans weren’t
Built to be
Mountain Goats
Or bats,
But that won’t
Stop me
From trying.

~A.G. 11/14/19

thegirlwhocriedcow:

& the thing to understand

while being white

is not that

whiteness is evil,

as guilt and the devil

would whisper to us.

its also not that whiteness

is superior,

as skinheads and the devil

would shout at us.

the thing to understand –

that somehow slippery concept –

is that being white

is just

not the only experience.

it is, however,

the only experience

we’ll ever understand,

if we’re too afraid to listen.

caolark:

“Healing Prayer”

Words by @girlwithtomatoes. 
Illustrations by @caolark

Thank you so much for letting me bring another of your beautiful poems to visual life, Sallie! You are amazing ❤️

Thanks@caolark for illustrating another of my poems! I love what you did with it! Yay collaboration!

walking home from favorite cafe:

a small boy rides a two-wheeler,

smoothly, but for the clomping up-downs

of the uneven panes of sidewalk cement,

lifted skyward by tree roots.

these same sidewalks

have hurt my biking butt

many a time. i always

try to bike on the road.

but a kid can’t do that.

his dad trails behind, jogging.

“you’re doing a great job buddy!”

the boy says: 

“no i’m not!”

they leave me in their wake,

thinking, why am i so

often like the small

biking boy,

the chastising voice

in the midst of encouragement?

why does he talk to himself

that way?

why do i?

sallie mccann

Although my heart was damaged, your love became the bandage. The scars left cannot vanish, but you help the pain disappear.

J.c.A

She is poetry, but not of words. Of subtleties. The empty spaces. Her breath. The gaps. Those in-betweens. How her voice breaks or her soft smile cracks. Even her simplicities speak to me.

J.c.A

Take all of these words and tie them together. Tug and find them attached to my heartstrings. A knot never broken. From me to you.

J.c.A

Buried there within my chest, you could find yourself a home. Built for you, with room only for you, it sits beneath your nuzzled nose.

J.c.A

As I made my way through the dark, you lightened the load I carried. You being there was enough.

J.c.A

You placed your hand in my hand as we wore our hearts on our sleeves. The moment they touched; that must be love.

J.c.A

And so I will paint a picture of the sun for you with all the colors you’ve warmed in my heart.

J.c.A

You are the whisper that floats on the wind.Even when you’re not here, I feel you.

J.c.AQ

Being lost in the time while lost in our space, in those moments with you I most find myself.

J.c.A

Each night I look up to the stars and wish we could be in the same space to love them together.

J.c.A

Perhaps my heart was blind to love until I put it in your hands and felt the braille.

J.c.A

I attract what I fear. You come with all your love. But the moment you hold my hand, I feel my heart open up.

J.c.A

My heart was a broken canvas and your love still painted a masterpiece.

J.c.A

My two cents on our matter is I never want us to change. Here’s a penny for your thoughts. Perhaps the other is lucky, and you feel the same.

J.c.A.

The open sky seeks the sun. The ocean tides thirst for the moon. Of the stars? They long for nothing. They exist to shine for you.

J.c.A

This heart is constant. These feeling won’t change. Still things have different. Distant. Please let me loveknowyouagain.

J.c.A

Call it falling in love or just pieces falling in place. You were here now, and the picture had never been so clear.

J.c.A

Perhaps it was the angle, but I saw a halo at hello. She must be an angel. This love must come from up above.

J.c.A

Like the way the moon controls the tides or the sun centers the skies, your love has got a hold on me.

J.c.A

Tonight, memories make a mirror of a bedroom window. I sit and reflect of a time with me and you under the moon. She will always shine for you.

J.c.A