A Selection of Poems by Kristian Nammack

Here are some poems from Kristian Nammack!

                                   The Ends of Having
                        We all start and end in dirt.
                        I reach into the world with new breathe.
                        My mighty palms outstretched.
                        A light purple arm drawn out in every direction.
                        The sun has gifted me new life.
                        As has dancing in the rain.
                        A mosaic of every experience I’ve ever had.
                        It’s a work of art.                      
                        Grubby knuckles and sweat off my brow.
                        Washing away in the wind.
                          Laying tranquilly now in the river floating steadily along.
                        I give and I give, yet receive nothing.
                        Floating along
                        Wrapped in sticks and seaweed.
                        My mind has reached peace.
                        I feel the breath in my lungs come in and out.              
                        I can’t get enough.

                                   As I Lie Here

        As I lie here in the grassy field with my tortoise framed Ray-Bans blocking the reality of life.
        The easy fall wind dancing through my hair tells me
        Is nothing so perfect as this moment.
      
        Pure awe as I stare into the abstract underwater abyss
        This is the unknown
        this is your life and it’s ending every second of every day which swiftly passes.
        A black splurge of mystery.
        This sweet beauty will not last.
        Nothing ever does.      

        As I lie here in the frigid winter snow the harsh air tells me
        Are you just cracked, chipped off?
        Or shattered bits of glass?
        Trying to keep my face together like a puzzle missing pieces.
        Falling, piece by piece, sagging day by day.
        I am the shattering the decrepit and decayed.
        Useless rusty fragments of a former self.
        I try desperately to cling on to whatever piece of spontaneous persona I have left.
      
        As I lie here,
        dreaming of the day I charge into that blazing sunset
        and take on this intimidating world completely alone.
        No longer locked in a wooden chest, no longer slipping on complex stairs to nowhere.
        I know where I am and I’ve rightfully earned my place.
        Plant my left foot down, then rear the right around.
        One after another.
        Step by step.
        This long journey begins with one and my feet are bleeding.
        Bittersweet tears shower down my rosy cheeks.
        Well you did it, you got everything you wanted, now what.      
      
      
        As I lie here in my bed I tell myself.
        It’s alway darkest before the dawn.
        That melancholy feeling rips deep through my face this time.
         Guilt holes shred to make caverns of open dialogue with my conscious.
        Self-Reproach, self-condemnation, ashamed.
        A contrite look and anxiety stricken yelp whenever there near.
        The irredeemable deal you make with a mistake so bad.
        A lottery lost, the gamble I made finally stopped paying off.

        As I lie here in the sand looking through my tortoise framed Ray-Bans
        at the Miami sky I am truly happy.
        Sunny air on skin, ocean breeze blows away all sorrow.
        Dry tears from a numb heart.
        We all warm up eventually.
        Everything burns.
        There is woe and dejection.
        Pleasure and Euphoria
        The crash and burn and the ultimate up-liftment.
        This life the next life and all those billions of memories in between.
        Good and bad, black and white, this was my time all the same.
      
        As I lie here awaiting heavy impact.
        The only thoughts I have are for the exceptional memories I had on this planet.
        With them, with myself, and most importantly with her.
        I suppose one can only hope someone will miss me when I haven’t a trace left.
        I can see for miles and miles and miles now.
        Down the road to nowhere.
        The road now whispers,

        Where shall we go next?
        A hand with five fingers made up of millions of connections.
        This is it, and it’s ending slowly every day so make the most out of it.
        For the time being I can see just a few inches in front of me.
        However, I will always be surrounded by the thick fog.      

Happy National Poetry Month!

Guess what readers? (few though you may be) April is national poetry month and according to my calendar, it's April! So how will you be celebrating? My recommendation would be to find a quiet part of the day, go outside and write something! I for one have been extremely busy and stressed lately and have found that nothing is more cathartic than enjoying nature and ravenous gulps of fresh air while putting a couple thoughts onto paper. The best thing about poetry is that you, yes you, are in complete control. If you like rules, there's poetry as strict as the boy's dress code at formal dinner, if you like free form, there's poetry as free as the girl's dress code at formal dinner, you can write poems that are as long as a conversation with Mr. Leff, or poems short enough to be tweeted, you can write flowery sentences or simple prose. It's like a choose your own adventure novel but with infinite possibilities!
Over the course of the month, I will be attempting to put together some additional ways to celebrate. Some things to keep on the radar are Poem In Your Pocket Day on April 26, a possible literary publication by the end of the month, a poetry centric lunch (though probably not in the library like last year) and anything else anyone can think of.
As always, you are welcome and in fact encouraged to post your work to this blog either by emailing it to me or responding as a comment. In fact, you don't even have to post poetry! Post art, post a college essay, post your thoughts on this post, post your biology lab report, post song lyrics translated into Hungarian, post whatever your heart desires and your pen/handy-dandy-Gould-provided-computer-dictates. It will be fun I promise!

Also, check out this hilarious link to a blog on the Huffington Post about schools of poetry based on "unlikely modern poets" including the likes of Lady Gaga, Mitt Romney and Fidel Castro.  I found it rather amusing.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kathryn-petras/unlikely-modern-poets_b_1401217.html?ref=books

Happy National Poetry Month! And don't forget to POST POST POST!!!