mortar

keep building your walls, but know that one day they will fall

far as your childhood
long as the future
quiet as a photograph
angry as a hail storm
brief as a compliment

and no one will notice

why the top 5 sucks

Just because my voice is the oldest, doesn’t mean it’s the clearest. I don’t know everything. You keep waiting to get noticed, but I don’t see everything. I’ve had these contacts in for too long.

Listen to your own heart, listen to your own heart

Quit eavesdropping on everyone else’s.

My heart has a lisp anyway

And most people’s hearts have nothing to say because they're too busy just trying to stay alive

Punch the clock, punch the clock

Don’t worry about where you sit during lunch, just eat

And punch the clock, because your shift started a month ago, and it’s never gonna end

Destroy the clock

Break all the mirrors

and it doesn’t matter if they call it likes or favorites - they’ll never bring peace to your stomach

I know the panic is real

but it’s tough to compare yourself to others if your eyes are closed

so close your eyes

know that nobody’s ever seen the inside of your eyelids quite like you

even when I tell my oldest son he’s smart and my youngest son he’s funny, my youngest son wants to know why he’s not smart and my oldest son wants to know why he’s not funny

you’ll never measure up with a 12-inch ruler

you’ll never make it to the end of the rainbow before it disappears

and nobody can keep their eyes open during a sneeze. nobody.

so be smart AND funny and ignore your father because even though he says he used to be in your shoes, you’re only half him

and his shoes haven’t come back in style just yet

into the woods

I'd rather be anywhere else.

I know that sounds harsh. I'm not a negative person, I'm not a negative person. (Yes I am.)

Like Kanye once said, nothing but positive energy.
That's where I want to be.

Call it Paris, call it yesterday, call it home. The blinds are open, the sun is shining, and my ringer is off. I have nowhere to be, I have everywhere to go. I want to go into the woods.

Where the trees don't know me, nothing but positive energy. I want to make things and live forever. I want to be alone, I want to be in front of the world. I want everyone to see me, I want to be invisible. Into the woods, into the woods.

Where Thoreau writes poetry and girls get murdered. Nothing but positive energy, positive energy.

Two roads diverged in the yellow wood and I turned around and walked home. I logged into Netflix and kicked the Lazyboy all the way back. I told my wife I loved her and asked the kids if they wanted popcorn.

yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

Nothing but positive energy.

old journals and goodbyes and holy crap

Let's call this a goodbye letter.

I'm not talking about break-ups or suicides or death or even graduation. It's January and we'll always have the rest of our lives. I'm just trying to say goodbye. 

Goodbye 2015. Holy crap. I still remember when I used to party like it was 1999 and I remember Y2K and it's like every year I just get older. I was born in the '70s and I wonder if you even know what that means.

Goodbye sophomores. All I teach is seniors now. And a couple of juniors who, if we were playing little league baseball, I'm sure someone would ask to see their birth certificate. #compliment

Goodbye my continually receding hairline.

Goodbye football. You broke my heart too many times this year. #LonePeak #sicTackticians #Utes #Vikings

(This next section is for me, not for you...don't bother reading it)
Some excerpts from my personal journal:

Saturday, 9/15/15: "It's movie night! We're watching Edge of Tomorrow. PG-13. None of our kids are 13 yet, btw. ... Things are going really well right now. Maybe I should knock on wood or something. ... THIS IS WHAT HAPPINESS FEELS LIKE."

Saturday, 10/17/15: "Holy crap. Varsity is undefeated (9-0). ... and the Utah game (they're undefeated too, and ranked #4 in the country). ... My fantasy football team is also undefeated, HOLY CRAP - is this the best year ever and I just don't know it yet?"

My fantasy football team lost in the playoffs on a Monday night when Ben Watson caught a last minute touchdown, and Blair Walsh just missed a 27-yard game-winning FG for the Vikings today, and I'm not even going to mention Lone Peak...

Who knows, maybe this was the best year ever. 

Football is just a game. And school is just a game. And creative writing is just a game. And love is just a game. And everything's just a game when you think about it. All that really matters is that my kids want to watch Once Upon a Time tonight, so I need to finish this letter soon.


I love my job. I love creative writing. When I see former students and they invariably ask me "How's creative writing" I say "Good" and I mean it. I'm not just saying good like when people ask me in the hall how are you and I say good and I'm not really good but I just say good so we can keep on walking our separate ways. I ACTUALLY MEAN IT.

This isn't a poem, this is a letter.

I'm sorry for not teaching you how to write. I just taught you to write. There's a difference. I don't know how to write. But I know how to write. You know what I'm saying? I know how to sit in front of a blank screen and type how I feel. I know how to write a screenplay. A play. A poem. I know how to write the first draft of a novel that I may never finish. I know how to write a blog post. A Master's Thesis. A business e-mail. I'm sorry if I didn't give you the cheat codes to whatever you wanted to write this semester. I promise they're everywhere if you look for them. You'll find them in college. You'll find them on the internet. You'll find them in the library.

I hope you discovered magic this semester. I hope you felt inspired. I hope you tried not to be a tourist. I hope you'll try to keep figuring it all out.

And so will I.

Sincerely,
Kyle Nelson

Discontent

It's been too long
But if I don't say something soon I'm afraid I might lose my voice

39 days since I last wrote something and I wonder where the time went
How many TV shows have I watched?
How many hours have I logged online?
How many books have I read?
How many games have I played with my daughter?

Sometimes life gets in the way of writing
Sometimes writing gets in the way of life

My son thinks he deserves a medal because he went a whole day without playing the playstation
Someone tell him life gets harder than that
Or does it

I'm writing this on my phone because it's too intimidating to sit at the computer
Listening to Drake instead of Coldplay
I can't even hear myself think

There's snow everywhere and I'm just trying to stay warm

I have a feeling it's going to be a long winter.

Open Windows // The Pen Name Anthem

Maybe Andrea Gibson wrote my favorite poem of all time
or maybe it was just the song playing in the background

We write behind pen names like hide and go seek games
you're it, you're it
Just trying to get English credit and you're it

Can you feel the gravity
as young people are letting down their guards
and we all just keep falling

I've never had to tell everyone who I really was,
so I don't know what you're going through
I don't know

Paris was always only a symbol and Harold was always only a failure
I am an open book,

I don't know if I chose Harold or if Harold chose me
I am an open book,

I am a book written in another language

I don't know which poems I've already read in front of the class
and which ones I've only read to my wife
I've been trying to recognize my own voice for decades

This is me trying to open the windows in my classroom

This is me making a list of things to read while he sits in his prison cell
Because we're all doing time
and all we have is time
and all we can give is time
and all we need is time

Sometimes when students write poems dedicated to Paris, I think they're talking to me
and they say things like "I've always loved you"
it makes me feel weird

Maybe I was never Paris
Maybe all of us were
Maybe we still are
Maybe we can still be

Harold Miner means as much to me as Kyle Nelson ever did
and I don't know which one is the real me

I once asked a girl named Kenzie how her older sister Kat was doing
and she looked at me like I was crazy.
Cause see, Kat Stratford was just a pen name of one of my favorite writers
and sometimes I get the virtual world confused with the real world
and I wonder if I even remember that girl's real name
I'm sorry

But you will always be your pen name to me
I'm sorry

We keep changing the greetings on our phones because our voices don't sound right
they never will
even deaf people sometimes cover their ears

even seniors in high school still get excited for school
you keep looking for credit, I promise I'll give you all that you ever needed
no you can not use the hall pass
I'm about to change everything you thought you knew about yourself
sit down

and tomorrow when I call you by your pen name
you probably won't even look

how to fool everyone

step one: become a teacher

step two: sell writing to unsuspecting teenagers

step three: tell them how much they need it, how much you love it, how much they'll love it, how easy it is, how important it is, assign them posts every week, and journal prompts every other day, including five they must do on their own, inspire them, inspire them, inspire them

step four: don't write yourself because you're too busy

step five: remind them how important it is for them to write, even if they're busy

step six: call the busiest ones tourists

step seven: watch netflix instead of write

step eight: read instead of write

step nine: fantasy football instead of write

step ten: join a november novel writing website and pretend you'll stick with it

step eleven: repeat every semester and see how long your heart lasts