Poetry Anthology
By: Matt Kennedy
Introduction
Matt with his twin brothers, Gavin and Logan
Matt's gathering of his outstanding family.
Matt in his High School Baseball Uniform
Where I'm From
I am from golf clubs, from wooden bats
and the drive to hit a ball long and far.
I am from the open ends of a sports-held backyard
(Extant, authentic, the green grass is candy to visitors' eyes.)
I am from the steep-cut grass, the athlete's favorite bed,
in how they stand on it, jumping joyfully various times,
and how they get put on the grass somehow, never wanting
to get back up on their own.
I am from laughter and minium, from Troy and Hardman to Kennedy.
I am from the flow-goers and entertainers,
from doing what we are told and always keepin' a smile.
I am from: "God grant me the serenity,
to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change what I can,
and wisdom to know the difference"; referring back to my mom's
necklace every time I forget, until I finally have it by memory.
I'm from southern North Carolina and generations of
top athletes, rare steaks, and homemade pasta. From the greatest
of a grandfather who survived through poverty, dying to get something to
eat everyday growing up,
then the way he brought the tradition of sports and
Navy service into the family.
I am from the moments of putting for par,
making a 3,
scoring a touchdown,
and even hitting a home-run, setting a new success to more generations
that come in the pedigree.
9/11 Narrative
I am a young twelve-year-old boy
and I am always willing to show my joy.
I am a young boy who on that very day,
I had a mind of a man.
That very day was September 11th,
the sun was shinin' and babies were cryin',
on my way to school seemed alright while walking through the city.
And then, I saw a passenger plane roaming right over me,
its engines were roarin' and looked,
as if somebody crazy was flyin' it,
and one who wanted to kill a lot of people in that ol' plane above me.
I knew it, I knew it would've crashed somehow.
It had sadly hit one of those identical towers that I see everyday.
Goodbye tower.
After the enormous crash I noticed, with my common sense, that
debris was flyin' everywhere from the tower.
Big amounts of smoke and everything!
Then at the very next moment, 3 fine women were standing in fear,
waiting for their lives to come to an end.
But it was not my job to "just watch", my mother always said.
So then I attempted with all my might and fight, to pull these 3 women out of harm's way.
I did.
As of what I remember that very day,
I saved 3 women who were twice my age, and twice my size as well.
Even though I was in ragin' pain with blood
gushing between the insides of my two legs.
And now, the mind of a man I had that day,
would probably last me a legacy!
I am a boy who on that very day,
I had a mind of a man.
The Ode of a Baseball's Affairs
A baseball's affairs,
looking at you with glare
its looks of downward eyebrows,
and frowns in its sealed-closed mouth
waiting for its favorite time.
Strikeouts, errors, hard-grinded play,
you name it, a baseball knows what to say
to a batter, with its mouth sealed,
being held by its best friend: the pitcher,
waiting for failure and violence to come.
To a shortstop, earning most action
where errors are made and embarrassments are played
by folks and fans, who are customed to hate.
A baseball affairs by its own physics,
hit-batsmen, the worst feeling in all of it.
Fights, strikes, might, made of hard rock, isn't it right?
If I were you, I would look out,
a baseball is always looking for its route
to grind with pain, agony, and pityness of effects,
toward its most favorite time.
The Structure of the Tree
Trees
our first-to see
friends, who provide
so much, for the mobile species.
Houses for animals, shelters from
the cold and rain, oxygen,
shade from the sizzling hot.
How could you not say?
Trees, our first-to-see friends.
So big, yet so alive.
Love Sonnet
You were made as of elements from life at its reality,
you look as of what I see everyday as I awake,
in what makes my day, everyday.
You most certainly tell the story.
Your wide eyes, so open it gives off the heat
as of the powerful sun would.
Your tight-tone skin, it's as smooth as the roads
we always wish to get to drive on everywhere we go.
Then of the peaceful night, I watch over the moon, and
your bright of white teeth show from a smile of a
goodnight wish, then a kiss,
that puts me to a lovely sleep.
Before sleep has come, we do our tradition of the
eskimo kiss.
I rub against your broad, prominent, button-like nose
in what reminds me of the bumps and blockades I encounter
everyday, but I always take the time to look back in
your luminous eyes,
in how my days truly get started.
In whatever way,
you make my day, everyday.
Just keep telling the story.