Buddy Wakefield Quotes
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We were never tragedies. We were emergencies. You go ahead, call 9-1-1. Tell them I'm havin' a fantastic time.
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If we were created in God’s image, then when God was a child he smushed fire ants with his fingertips and avoided tough questions.
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Every moment is a brand new baby, Baby. Every vow is a brave new voice.
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Stop inviting walls into wide open spaces.
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A trajectory of misery – at this point – seems intentional. We have all the information we need to see clearly. We are no longer unaware toddlers on the landscape of consciousness. It is no longer cute to crap ourselves.
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Hearts don't break, y'all. They bruise and get better.
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I would fall in love with you if you would beat these people out of me.
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If we really do get what we give then I give up, so I can get up.
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How honest is it that we drink until we are dehydrated?
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Everybody knows that smiling is for little girls, the gays and certain kinds of fish who are smiling by accident.
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Everything is out there. That's why they call it everything.
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...all these kids you can't seem to make sense of would stop holding you so far off the edge of your seats if you'd start holding yourselves to the promises you make. We know you're not perfect, because we're not. And I know I'm not perfect, but I believe I was meant to be.
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What paper planes and empty seats most have in common is that they are best made by children still learning how to ride things out.
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Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.
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I choose to politely ask myself to step aside if I am in my own way. If I do not get out of my way, I choose to call a friend who will have me removed.
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Knowing me is easy. You can still twist your hair and feel silly. Look up the word tacky and have a salad. But when we're together you pull bread apart with your fingers into bites sometimes so small I gotta remind you, Peach, it is okay to be hungry.
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You're a free-standing landing pad held together by choir claps.
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There is a point when tears don't work to wash things away anymore. Grabbing for breath has now broken my fingers.
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But I still show up for gentleman practice in the company of lead dancers, hoping their grace will get stuck in my shoes.
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I am standing like shoe polish on an overstocked shelf hoping that one day someone will pick me to make things better.
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You're not the only piece of patchwork birds can pull worms from.
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The best songs are the ones about Georgia, even though I've never been there. It's the only place I still believe in Jesus.
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There was a typewriter buried alive in that horse, the one I road to get out of the flood.
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Even good hearts know how to turn bad touch and genocide into clichés just to make room for more comfort.
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What children and the landing of a plane most have in common is that they are best made by a line drive of pilot lights guided through a single tambourine across the day we met in a field of wet metal hands on The Gospel of Lightning.
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If you've never been rocked back by the presence of purpose this poem is too soon for you. Return to your mediocrity, plug it into an amplifier and rethink yourself.
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Pretend – inside your skin – you've got a friend, who's willing to give you everything you ever wanted in exchange for all you've ever been.
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...others, with halos shaped like rollercoasters you'd stand in line to ride twice.
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Love makes no mistakes.
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I'm ready to kill something. I'll probably only get as far as my brain cells, but I am going to kill them.
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