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Erin N. Buckley

Updated: Mon, 4 Mar 2019 05:48 pm

@83 River Rd.

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Here's the necessary things you need to understand about me as a poet. I am a writer who has immense difficulty revising my poetry into a wordplay-less, boring, non-descriptive, imagination-less without inciting vivid visions with my tongue and written poetry. I am a spoken word artist first. Second I am a poet. prose and lyric writer Third I am a free-style rapper who fucking hates practice. You can find me three seasons of the year in Boston, Quincy or Weymouth. Now I live in the boonies where I let the madness eat away at my psych-y to write. I have multiple poetic voices. I am a vicious activist and opinionated. You'll discover that as you get to know my artist and invest your time in my work; I am either a love bug or a vulgar and angry voice that cycles with my mania and depression. I like when the psychic visions and psychosis make a chemical and spiritual project baby and you can hear the deepest depth of my heartache and my undying belief in love. I drink to much caffeine and smoke too much nicotine. I have been an actress, a model, a journalist when I was in college, a tattoo shop girl, a photographer, a graffiti artist and I enjoy the kick push of the skateboard. I can shake my behind and I find freedom in dancing and when I sing. Above all I am a mother, a sister, the main deity of my coven since I was 11., and a friend who takes her relationships so seriously it will be the death of me for I love with ever atom in my body. I am a Mental Health Survivor and in Recovery from suicidal attempts and romanticism of the easy relief of giving up. I am and have always been a fighter especially, from my neighborhood. So I gave my mental health all of my fight and my clenched fists turned into peace signs. I am in the fight of my life and my poetry is what keeps me battling every fucking day and I have failed but I have tasted success and I'm addicted to the taste of doing what I love and getting the respect I deserve after being an 18 year long writer. My advice, if your gut, heart and brain are talking simultaneously follow the direction of your intuition. Every negative comment ever tarnishing your reputation; own the fucking shit out of what your haters say. They hate it when you smile. I have nothing yet, I am happy. To have air in your lungs and to have survived what I have is poetry lived. I am a masterpiece, I am art.


The Beginning: Cover me in blankets Am I cold or just trembling in your presence? I have fallen for your soul, Like a red Merlot. Love stains the heart and sings I wear your beat on my sleeve All I want to do is listen to it’s speak Curled up all day long A marathon of our song You’re everyone’s favorite masterpiece Once I fall in love I never fall out To blossom rather than wilt The wines been sipped and spilt Time remains still Wnd then I’m with you. -Good Morning. It's 8 am I haven't slept just stayed up all night and wrote but these early morning hours writing for 24 hours in mania next to my girl for years I learned to appreciate the little things To have her back in my family An empowered woman radiating that confidence in- my presence and I am blessed to say the least; I am very lucky My long time sister, actual decade-plus friendship and I'm drowning in gratitude for the breathe in my lungs and my supporting relationships I feel like I have so many down ass people I am swimming in old school and traditional love that is taking my pain and mending it kissing it away every time i witness them create alongside me and this coffee massaging my taste buds and adrenal glands My loyalty and love is unconditional fam un-wavered until, you harm the heart or body of someone I care about like blood see the family I chose rather than the one I was given is powerful even more so spiritual People I would die for, if i'm being real with you It's your clan and my job is to send in the ears that care and a voice with a message of remembrance, advice and forgiveness Living by example showing them how to hug yourself at night when your alone and terrified my life is the reason You people have learned this wisdom I slang lessons so you don't have to live them So here's my spell: Love On a snowy, bitter cold New England Day and I wouldn't have it any other way. Outside this window at my desk is a wicked view one I treasure and have nightmares of losing it forever Massachusetts, not for everyone For the strong and the ones who live by the motto I don't give a fuck. Breathe. No Drama Heal that trauma with the taste of your roots and sing the blues in or out of tune as long as your having fun I'm your fan I do it for yous and my daughter dreams I live in the struggle and I shine when the pressure is on and I have nothing not even a dime- in my pocket Whatever I got this My brothers and sisters live and I imagine them alive so i survive and I don't ask for much- having less I am fine My taste for the finer things in ilife are a sense of humour, good taste in music a lover and a fighter like my people whiskey on the rocks it used to be out of the bottle a fresh notebook and the people I love living their dreams inspiring me real talk

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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Jason Bayliss

Sun 3rd Mar 2019 00:36

Hi Erin, great sample, favourite line of many for me, "I wear your beat on my sleeve," love that. Look forward to reading more, but not right now because it's 12.35 am here.


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