Outlaw Poets is an inclusive electronic publication produced by Studio Appalachia and features poetry and art by the Outlaw Poets Group. Contact studioappal@gmail.com for more information.
Sunday, October 24, 2021
Strange News from another Star
Wednesday, October 20, 2021
Back Roads
I wish the past was
like the cars and trucks
I see in my rearview
calculating speed and distance
to catch up. I look ahead, look
up, they’re gone.
Who has not wished for
some things to be utterly
redeemed beyond the lessons learned?
Usually it’s on two-lane roads
where passing is marked
by broken lines, where double
lines say, “Do Not Cross,”
and speed is dictated by road
surface, curves, hills, other traffic
these feelings and thoughts appear.
I am coming and going – the one
thing about being on the road
that doesn’t change: some
place is left, some place
awaiting my arrival.
It matters how I drive.
It matters what I learn.
It matters that the past
can’t be redeemed –
just so curious I keep
wishing it could be.
-Byron Hoot
Friday, October 1, 2021
THE BITTER BARANG
Overwhelmed
Hello, Old Maple Tree!
Dark Shadows
THE MALLEABLE ONE
Adrift in a Dream
I go back to you and me
And how things used to be
But now I'm like a ship lost at sea
Adrift in a Dream
And yes we still do
But I'm just not the same without you
I include you in my prayers
Guess I've grown used to the fact I'll always love you
Drifting with the tide
Dreaming of when you were by my side
But I know my actions caused our divide
I am Adrift in a Dream
Hoping somehow you will come back to me
Not wanting to ever let you go
guess I'd rather be alone than find someone new
I'm on my way to safety
To be there with you
And I still pray this dream comes true.
Always thinking of you.
Life
The Day The Laughter Died
Communion
The Arrow’s Paradox Or Hitting the Mark
The Barn Swallows fly across my porch, before my kitchen door and I catch the curve of their flight trying to recall if I’ve seen one fly ...
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The prayers of wind and rain and the cold incense on which they’re carried this New Year’s eve are prophecies of what is not to come again a...
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The cardinal flew across the road in front of me, a blur of red but precise in its flight as I added meaning to the moment, something ab...
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The dream felt memorable. Then I awoke and it was gone. I thought how in hunting the moment has to be just right to make the shot and...